Just now wrapping up Margaret Pessels Night Films. The book is a vaguely creepy hunt for a reclusive and demonic director which is fantastic read. But as I get to the final pages I have a sense of regret and loss. Throughout the novel the characters describe and discuss the films of director Cordoba, films with titles like: All birds are black at night, scenes with props so compelling (a locked briefcase with a child’s bloody shirt inside.)
Reading the book makes me want to hole up for the weekend and watch every Cordoba film never made.
Last weekend we went to a 4th of July fireworks party in a lovely glen on the other side of Bovina. It was about a thousand people who we assume are our neighbors. Everybody brings a dish which is a pretty phenomenal thing to see when everybody is really everybody. I made my mothers biscuit chicken the dish she would always make for picnics. They we’re swept up in minutes so she did me well.
This weekend we practiced living in Bovina Center. In a small “schoolhouse” cottage in the middle of incredible rolling green hills. We cooked outside, hiked primarily in knee hi rubber boots, let the dog off the leash, sat barefoot in the sun and drank beer. All and all it felt totally liberating and totally free one of the most relaxing weekends in years. It’s funny because everyone we meet up in Delaware county seems to have dropped they’re day to day lives to live only this life in escape.
It feel possible there that one cold find oneself losing the plot line of your life. Or maybe finding one.
An interesting article In the NYT’s on how the Rijksmuseum has offered high resolution copies of its masterwork opens up some exciting ideas about the future of the museum space. http://nyti.ms/114jv8L
If you look at the sight it’s not just about getting the images but what you can do with them. It’s part Pinterest of old masters, with some design sponge DIY tips on how to make a Dutch still life tattoo.