Book designs and books and new york memoirs
Just been reading Ruth Reichl's first memoir about how she got into food writing and she mentions her father designed the Ulysses cover, and I looked it up (1934, big U) and got it.
Everything seems synchronous. Decided NOT to go and see shite Sandra Bullock movie tomorrow night (originally chosen because of its convenient time slot and because I have an inexplicable crush on Thomas Haden Church) but to hold out for the 8:30pm session of Julie&Julia, because the thought of seeing Meryl Streep play a passionable fan of French cooking seemed too good to miss. After reading Ruth Reichl I double got it.
Then logged on and had email from fellow art student (same teacher), I'd lent her another one of my favourite New York Memoirs (Tongue First: Adventures in Physical Culture-Emily Jenkins) as research for a tattoo art exhibition she was helping organise, and she'd emailed back to invite me to the exhibition launch tonight.
Also finally properly realised that my other half has an intellectual crush on Leigh Sales, having read her blog I think it's a good choice and I like her too. I love it when intelligent well read people do analysis of pop culture. She put me onto the scrivener website writings by Avril Rolfe. Just as I was beginning to despair that the proliferation of twitter and new media and generated content meant that the public was saturated with writers and commentators, I realised that only a few writers shine through and this writer was one of them.
Went swimming again last night, the others were back from the Sydney Masters, one had won medals in her events (50m and 200m breaststroke, alright!). They wore swimming caps they'd swapped with athletes from other nations and were full of excitement about the beautiful bodies they'd seen on 30, 40 and 50 somethings; and how the Brazilians were practically naked. Having never before cottoned onto the beauty worship of Brazilians, A explained it later. How the country is melting pot of races, an example of Darwinian survival when the final result is physical beauty, fecundity, something that spans cultures.
Everything seems synchronous. Decided NOT to go and see shite Sandra Bullock movie tomorrow night (originally chosen because of its convenient time slot and because I have an inexplicable crush on Thomas Haden Church) but to hold out for the 8:30pm session of Julie&Julia, because the thought of seeing Meryl Streep play a passionable fan of French cooking seemed too good to miss. After reading Ruth Reichl I double got it.
Then logged on and had email from fellow art student (same teacher), I'd lent her another one of my favourite New York Memoirs (Tongue First: Adventures in Physical Culture-Emily Jenkins) as research for a tattoo art exhibition she was helping organise, and she'd emailed back to invite me to the exhibition launch tonight.
Also finally properly realised that my other half has an intellectual crush on Leigh Sales, having read her blog I think it's a good choice and I like her too. I love it when intelligent well read people do analysis of pop culture. She put me onto the scrivener website writings by Avril Rolfe. Just as I was beginning to despair that the proliferation of twitter and new media and generated content meant that the public was saturated with writers and commentators, I realised that only a few writers shine through and this writer was one of them.
Went swimming again last night, the others were back from the Sydney Masters, one had won medals in her events (50m and 200m breaststroke, alright!). They wore swimming caps they'd swapped with athletes from other nations and were full of excitement about the beautiful bodies they'd seen on 30, 40 and 50 somethings; and how the Brazilians were practically naked. Having never before cottoned onto the beauty worship of Brazilians, A explained it later. How the country is melting pot of races, an example of Darwinian survival when the final result is physical beauty, fecundity, something that spans cultures.
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