Greetings from down under, not that fair land on the other side of the world, the one on the other side of heaven, my little house, Dante’s temporary inferno. Burn, baby, burn! I associate much joy and many wonderful times with my house, but it’s very hard to be here right now, with Bob so completely consumed by misery. I’m stuck on the couch, FOR 3 MORE MONTHS, with cute little Davide tucked away downstairs in my studio and Elin coming from Vinalhaven tonight staying in Bob’s office.
Please, someone, invite me to a pajama party.
I did see Bertolucci’s new film yesterday, and liked it. And I really hated it. But I can’t stop thinking about it. The opening credits were dynamite, and set a groovy tone for the film, and the first half hour or so was a rich and fun-to-watch romp through a film lover’s soft-porn psyche. Now I’m completely set on being seduced by a set of French twin Maoist cineastes! Oui, oui! The unbelievable and almost unwatchable parts of the film were made interesting by their significance in the underlying allegory, the parents representing some out-of-touch and absent authoritarian structure, the American boy the voice of reason, etc…
So no work this morning due to rain–off to the movies!