Tuesday, November 25, 2008

i dream

...of mobility facilitated by the latest in style. Or should I say the most retro of styles?
First a passionate love for:
(think minus dorky drink-holder, and additions of spokey-dokes and handlebar streamers)

and now, due to the richness of its blood, a new love:

Try crossing fingers and toes.
And chanting "I DO believe in fairies"...

All together now!

Monday, November 24, 2008

language makes the heart grow fonder

It seems unlikely that anyone has failed to notice that my posts seem to have been coming in spurts, usually related to visual imagery - video clips, to be precise.

And that's probably appropriate, because it seems like my head has been working in video clips - shakin' the blues, zipping, and longings for the new and the old / vintage.

I could choose at this point to wax lyrical about longings for the pre-linguistic (particularly appropriate since discourse analysis as methodology is the current bane of my research existence), or the relative appropriateness of visual representations of emotional / affective response. But perhaps this sums it up best:

Monday, November 17, 2008


So I didn't want to talk about it till i had a hard copy in my hot little hands, but it is in fact true... Traffic contains an article in it from yours truly. Truly, truly. It's scrumptious.
At the risk of making this blog be more about my favourite visual stimuli, and less about my random musings...

This is love to me:

its how i love, and how i want to be loved.
Double or nothing.

life has been a little monochrome lately

So recently, my secret sin has been black and white movies.
The classics, of course.
And I keep falling in love again and again.

Ah, the bliss of the sheer talentless beauty of Eva Gardner as the statue of Venus come to life.
The toe-tapping intensity of Eleanor Powell in one of those blistering routines she makes look so effortless.
The starry-eyed crooning of yet another square-jawed singer.
The dreamy intensity of Ms Frances Gumm's baby-faced earlier efforts.

You see what I mean?

Musicals as utopic, Mr Richard Dyer? Yes, please.