Mister Strange and I feel similarly about mornings…
Although for me, alcohol has very little, if anything, to do with the matter.
Today is exciting because I was able to watch the first episode of the TV adaption of one of my favourite books: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke. I can quite happily report that the adaptation is pretty much perfect.
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it previously, but I can’t recommend the book highly enough. It has been described as Dickens meets Austen but with a fairytale twist.
Here are some screencaps showing some of the key players…
‘Two magicians shall appear in England.
The name of one shall be Fearfulness, the name of the other, Arrogance.
The first shall fear me, the second shall long to behold me.
The first shall bury his heart in the dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel its ache.
The second shall see his dearest possession in his enemy’s hand.
Both will fail.
The nameless slave shall be a king in a strange land.
I will return.’
These are the words of the Raven King.
He had the house to himself, and probably for a couple of days. It was one of his favourite luxuries and he intended to make the most of it because it didn’t happen often. He started off by whipping up a loaf banana bread and boiling the kettle for a pot of earl grey. Whilst the loaf was in the oven he put his brand new sheets on the bed then ran himself a bath. Clouds of steam filled the bathroom, which was lit only by the flicker of several candles. He dropped a bar of sweet smelling goodness into the hot water and the scent of raspberries and vanilla mixed with the burnt caramel from one of the candles and the smell of banana-y goodness wafting in from the kitchen. He gingerly stepped into the tub, one foot at a time, and slowly lowered himself into the bubbles allowing his body to adjust to the heat. He could just hear the music playing from his bedroom at the far end of the house. He lay back and closed his eyes. He hadn’t allowed himself this pleasure in well over a month; he’d been giving his new tattoo, a dragon on his lower right abdomen, time to heal. He ran a hand over it and smiled to himself with satisfaction. His thoughts went to his bed. He’d be in there alone, as he had been for the past month or more. He wished things could be different, but they couldn’t. You can’t change people by wishing. Undateable. Sigh.
(It’s Smaug from The Hobbit, in case you were interested).
Kumiko the Treasure Hunter
A Zellner Bros. Adventure
“She’s on her own personal journey”
If, like me, you like films about depressive, disturbed individuals who are in no way in touch with reality then this is a film for you.
Nestled, curled, wrapped up in a sort of cocoon around the desk and the computer with the heater and lamp casting their warmth and light out into the late-autumn-ness he thought about things. He wasn’t doing anything. Just flailing around the internet, from one thing to the next and back to the first; tumblr, interview, youtube, facebook, wikipedia, netflix, website, website, website; round and round it went. It was his day off. He had nowhere to be. And so few other demands on his attention. Luxurious. The sound of cars passing back and forth on the wet road, snatches of passing conversations, phone calls, footsteps. Occasional rain. A tapping at the door. A vague inclination to socialise quickly rejected. He looked up at Mary with her arms spread welcoming supplicants into her loving embrace. She seemed so serene. She asked nothing and gave nothing. What was she whispering to him? Nothing. He pulled his childhood duvet close and examined the piney green of his freshly-painted nails. The music stopped. A shrill of Psycho strings and a wrong number. Read the rest of this entry »
Some things I really, really like:
I feel like this really taps into a certain Frances Ha-ness that I love.
And now for some prose:
The most important aspect of the trip was that I finally learned (relearned) how to knit. This is the first thing I have knitted since I was really quite young. It will eventually be a Slythenclaw scarf. (That’s a Harry Potter reference if you didn’t know).
We found this brownie shop. Unfortunately they didn’t have any of the salted caramel, but the turkish delight one I bought was excellent. Judging from the noises that Amber was emitting the jaffa one was pretty great. Caroline had the turkish delight also. She liked it. Also, they were all gluten free! Amazing! Not that that is a requirement that I have, but good for them.
This is from a Michael Parekowhai show that was also on. I strongly dislike Michael Parekowhai (and have done since I was at ELAM), but I do like random empty chairs. And pretty carpet. I like that also. It’s the same pattern as a rug that Amber gave me, but shades of blue instead of red. These pictures are completely out of context from how they were installed in the show, but I don’t care.
This is what I like to call “progress”. Caroline also attempted knitting things but kept making mistakes and having to unravel and start over. I just pretended my mistakes were intentional and kept going. I’m calling them “features and benefits”.
3 out of 10 for the dining experience (really bad run with the cafes). Those points are all for the brownies and also some musk flavoured fudge I bought at the Eat Street Markets.
7 out of 10 for coffee, what we had was pretty good.
8 out of 10 for weather. I like a bit of a change, and the storm bird delivered on its promise of rain.
Accommodation I would rate 9 out of 10. It loses a point for being so far from the city. (Amber I love your house! I would’ve taken more pictures of it but I was lazy and also out of the habit).
That was last week. Now we’re back in crisp and cool Melbourne enjoying Autumn how it’s meant to be.
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