We made it. The journey was smooth, but long. Scotland had a very harsh winter, and the late spring daffodils are still out in full bloom everywhere. The apple trees are budding, which splashes the countryside with various levels of green. The sun shimmers on the water. Today we drove to St. Andrews to shop for food. The bleachers are up in front of the 17th & 18th holes on the old course in anticipation of the British Open this summer.
Taking British Airways 4 p.m. plane to London TODAY, then connect to Edinburgh & drive to Fife. 
Suvan Geer's drawing, like Spencer Reece's poem MARGARET from the February 2010 issue of the Poetry Foundation's monthly magazine POETRY is one of those, when read, immediately asks to be read again. Because of copyrights, I cannot insert here, but can only say, like Suvan Geer's work of art, there is a whisper in it, and the silence inside the whisper stays with you and gives you something only poetry can. 
...is the new James Ivory picture that is not playing anywhere near here, so we watched SUNSET BLVD last night instead, and I got so into Gloria Swanson's rendering of Norma Desmond (we'll do another picture, and another picture) I forgot to blog. I forgot everything for the moment, like packing for Scotland where it's 60's and raining, like packing for my own Hollywood movie and my vision of 1930's Fred Astaire sets with quilted satin headboards, white walls and marabou, like packing the kitchen, the bedroom, the office. Oy, the office. There are at least 30 boxes of books, but that's ok. I'm taking them with me. I'm taking all of it with me, for the next installment in my movie. Cut. Print it. Next scene.
April 24, 2010 