Twentysevennames, by Guy Coombes (via so much to tell you)
Lots of fall staples added to the store.
anjalouise / by: anjalouise
"It is nothing new or startling that Southerners do write—probably they must write. It is the way they are: born readers and reciters, great document holders, diary keepers, letter exchangers and savers, history tracers—and, outstaying the rest, great talkers. Emphasis in talk is on the narrative form and the verbatim conversation, for which time is needed. Children who grow up listening through rewarding stretches of unhurried time, reading in big lonely rooms, dwelling in the confidence of slow-changing places, are naturally more prone than other children to be entertained from the first by life and to feel free, encouraged, and then in no time compelled, to pass their pleasure on. They cannot help being impressed by a world around them where history has happened in the yard or come into the house, where all round the countryside big things happened and monuments stand to the memory of fiery deeds still to be heard from the lips of grandparents, the columns in the field or the familiar cedar avenue leading uphill to nothing, where such-and-such a house once stood. At least one version of an inextinguishable history of everybody and his grandfather is a community possession, not for a moment to be forgotten—just added to, with due care, mostly. “
From Place and Time: The Southern Writer’s Inheritance. (Eudora Welty makes me wish I’d been born southern …)
The book depresses me but I really want to see this movie … 1970s does 1930s Hollywood craziness, plus Karen Black.
silk-rayon / by: silk-rayon
Karen Black in “The Day of The Locust,” 1975
New store stuff up!