to drown a rose

• a found sketchbook

found among the things of someone who can’t tell me about it.
i guess she must have found it in turn; i don’t know when – no later than 2001, not sooner than 1997, i think – and i don’t know where: in england or wales, probably in london, but... forgotten on a bus? thrown away? among books in a charity shop?
i'm so curious because, in fact, i know whose this is. it’s a book of sketches and notes for the stage design of a theatre production, and inside the cover the designer wrote her address and the theatre’s.
maybe the luzern stadttheater production of the elixir of love is long gone – I couldn’t find it listed on the internet – maybe ms jacqueline gunn (hers are the lovely pictures below) doesn’t care anymore about having her sketchbook back.
but, i wonder: should the finder have sent it to the cover address? should i do so now? do i have the right to be here posting this?
(oh, if the author could read this and tell me! or maybe she could tell me: take it off your site, immediately, and burn it...)

 

• paris, les halles

having read about le ventre de paris yesterday at chocolate&zucchini, and having talked about film images of paris in a post of mine the day before, i thought i'd share a few 1960's images of les halles.

left, a frame (or set picture?) from one of my favourite paris-american comedies, irma la douce, next to a street scene from the neighbourhood (that's from maurice rué, paris des poètes, hachette 1965).
and, there's an online exhibit about the film's set designer, alexandre trauner, here (i didn't know he designed subway too).

below, click on the thumbnails for pictures scanned from qui parigi, touring club italiano, 1968 (sky views by alain perceval, photographs by giancarlo botti and monique valentin).

only at the end of 2003, the last time i've been to paris (where i've bought the gorgeous dress i'm wearing now, but i won't digress further), did i vist the interior of saint-eustache. i had been reading john berger's the shape of a pocket (sacche di resistenza, giano editore, varese 2003), and wanted to see raymond mason's sculpture: fruit and vegetables leaving paris, february 28, 1969. you can see it below, on a postcard bought on site and in a detail distorted by my husband's wicked eye.

of course i wanted to end on a catastrophic note showing something from ferreri's movie non toccare la donna bianca, shot in the canyon-like excavations made after the demolition of the old pavilions, but i couldn't find pictures online - i will have to search the books.

update, 14.06.04: tournage di ferreri e altre immagini cinematografiche delle halles sul sito dedicato ai progetti di riqualificazione (finalmente) dell’area.

update, 3.06.04: aggiungo qualche immagine dal dvd della mgm di irma la dolce.

• filastrocche come vengono

your pointy pink-black fingers
in search of snagging threads
will cause no hurtful blisters
they only drive me mad

• devastating elegance

You carefully weigh every word, because you know that confessions blurted out are often regretted, and can never be taken back. But just because you're restrained, doesn't mean that you're uptight. You'd just rather reveal yourself when the moment is right, because timing is everything, and giving everything away, right away, seems tacky. Which is why you'd never be caught dead flashing a thong in a pair of below-the-equator jeans. Nope, you much rather slay them with devastating elegance, followed with a slam-dunk of inspired surprises.
clever copy for a shopping site (and to sell a handbag, of all things): here's mighty flirt.
Now, instead of stopping losing my time like this, I decided to work on a theory explaining what might be behind a seemingly obsessive interest in clothing and accessories. more links, please. (to be continued)

• filastrocche come vengono

if snow could shed its light
upon my windowpane
through winter’s longest nights,
I’d shed my coat of pain.

• filastrocche come vengono

someone should have taken
a photograph of me
with cats asleep on either side
wrapped in a furry dream.

[nel titolo del post prima c’era un refuso: folastrocche.]

• filastrocche come vengono

I thought I’d found a way
of keeping it at bay
but ’twas the warmth of summer
that made it go away.

• filastrocche come vengono

boxes and spools all over your pockets
waiting for words to use them as lockets
singing the music you love to have near
looking for frames to keep your mind clear:

let them remind you your eyes have to rest
your fingers should sleep, drop every nonsense
the dreams you record on reels and by heart
can bring you the wings you’d want for a start