A mug I bought at the Flannery O’Connor Childhood Home in Savannah:
Tea and Stories
The quote on the back of the mug reads:
“The writer operates at a peculiar crossroads where time and place and eternity somehow meet.”-Flannery O’Connor
I’ll be posting a review sometime in the next few weeks. Until then, you can check out Vickie’s lovely blog.
It’s In His Kiss by Vickie Lester accompanied me on my recent road trip to Savannah.
…and tired as hell. I have to catch up on sleep, writing, and emails, so A Small Press Life will be quiet for a few more days. Here’s a (peace-offering) preview of my travel photos:
Mary Flannery O’Connor’s Baby Pram
Path
Gravestones
A beautiful and provocative poster for Erich von Stroheim’s 1924 production of Greed, which was adapted from Frank Norris’ turn-of-the-century novel, McTeague:
Greed (1924)
The book was previously brought to the screen in 1916, under its original name. That version is lost. Von Stroheim’s famously beleaguered masterwork is the stuff of modern legend. His fight with MGM for control of the final product–particularly the editing–was painfully operatic. Although the film does not fully match the great auteur’s ambitious blue print, what we have been left with is brutally and strikingly epic.
Heading to Savannah (via Asheville) today!
“Travel brings power and love back into your life.”-Rumi
Hat Box=going on holiday!
Portrait of Edmond Duranty by Edgar Degas, 1879
Portrait of Edmond Duranty by Edgar Degas, 1879. The Burrell Collection.
Gustave Flaubert Quote
“One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.”-Antonio Porchia
To Absent Friends: This past Thursday, 5th June, would have been my father-in-law’s 87th birthday.
Oh, tea! You are my special chum. How I love thee in every possible cliched way. Is there a writer, alive or distantly dead, who has never savored your goodness? The ghosts of your famous lovers must be everywhere. Oh, tea! Piping, steaming, swirling with heat. Homey: a silent, sympathetic witness to innumerable sorrows and hopes. Out of dainty cups, chipped cups, disposable cups, any cups at hand. Sweet or plain. Oh, tea! You are always by my side as I write or read. This, this is adoration. Please bask in that love while I tell my patient readers a story.
Tea in the Bedsitter by Harold Gilman, 1916
Every time the blonde child walked into the kitchen, she asked, aloud, the same question. “Is there anything, world, more beautiful than a brightly coloured tea tin?” It was, to be sure, a frankly odd thing for a six-year-old to think about, but think about it she did. The answer, internal rather than vocal, always echoed from her heart with happy assurance: “No! No! No!”
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*I think this list is weird.
A Small Press Life: Books. Art. Writing. Life. Tea. 