Happy Solstice and Summertime Blues everyone. I've always had a like/hate thing with hot weather. I prefer it to cold, but still find it to be on the steamy side of assy. That said, there is a certain atmosphere, a certain weird gravitas to Summer days that I do enjoy. In other words, it's great for creativity and bad for the ole electric bill. The humidity will thrill you as much as it will clobber you.
This week has been long, but not bad. I finished the first part of my contribution to the upcoming William Castle blog-a-thon and am about to dip again into the waters of formerly-lost-films, as well as underrated dramas. Like the Magic 8 Ball says, more will be revealed.
Music wise, I've been revisiting my Lee Hazlewood kick, with “Sand,” “Jackson” and “Some Velvet Morning” becoming the biggest repeat offenders. There's such a lush weariness to Lee's voice and music that gets me every time I listen. There are some artists that you have to be in a specific mood to listen to and then there are those like Hazlewood, that just hit the sweet spot every single time.
Last night, the hubby and I went to a growing outdoors art event, which was fun. There were fabulous crepes to be had and there was one artist in particular, Robert Shinn, whose work really stood out. He had this one piece, involving an old nutcracker, that I became intensely smitten with. Naturally, it was way the heck out of my budget, but worth it if you've got it. While we were looking around and entered a small gallery, I was quickly annoyed by one of those classic, pretentious art conversations. You know, the talkers in question have a little glass of white wine (rarely red, for some reason, which is fine since that leaves more for me!) and a white-bred/upper-middle class sense of self-importance. I hate this kind of thing so much, especially since I think there is way you can have an intelligent and even fun conversation about art without it devolving into yuppie-styled wankery. Being an artist does not make you a better person than anyone, only being an honest, aware and a conscious person does.
On a happier note, the crepe was truly sterling.