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I feel I’ve been spending a lot of time in the Art House, but ’twas only a couple of days. I bumped into Jane again on Wednesday evening. She called me “dancing Rose, flowering beauty”, which I totally want on a t-shirt. And I spent yesterday’s volunteering shift seizing people’s monies, providing them with food & drink, not falling down the basement steps, and sprucing up the toilet. So perhaps the last part wasn’t exactly living Teh Dream, but I still heart it there, and I don’t like working shifts when there’s nothing to do, so, all in all, it was the toilet’s lucky day. And there was 1920s music playing. And Ziggy makes amazing cake. Nina, Miles & I divided up the leftover crumbs between us.
I was ridiculously tired earlier in the week, partly due to my misguidedly staying up late on Sunday night reorganising my writerly notes. Strangely enthralling. So I haven’t been as productive as I would have liked what with the naps & so forth. But I’ll get on it. I need to buy masks & flowers & wire & glue . . .
George Rodger
Angry negative people can be bad for your brain. And everything else, in fact. Scientists have not yet found a use for angry negative people.
I’d never heard of the Five Love Languages until I read this article. I like them all, personally.
Read Lewis Carroll’s advice on how to write a letter.
The Selvedge Yard has a piece on Vivienne Westwood. I think one of the Siouxsie Sioux photographs is by Philippe Carly.
Magnum Photos sent me a link to La Soirée.
I socked Trigger over at my vidding hideyhole but felt the need to sock it again. It was Tracy Wright’s last film, and as someone who’s only just discovered her work, I feel like I’ve really been missing out.
