Sunday, 8 April 2012

Let Us Always Meet Each Other With Smiles *

Good Morning My Dear Friends!

And so, it seems, it is Easter Sunday; all over the country people are celebrating the major event in the religious calendar of the most popular faith by eating chocolate for breakfast . . . being of buddhist (with a small b) leaning I am doing no such thing, although a bar of organic plain may get a bashing later on in the proceedings . . . So welcome, friends; make yourself at home and I'll see about rustling a spot of tea and toast for breakfast . . .

I hope you like the pic on todays offering; it is a print made by the very talented Seb West who is based at Towednack, on the outskirts of St Ives. Seb is one of the artists whose work I used to lust after when I visited the town I considered to be my spiritual second home; to my eternal shame and regret I never got to buy any of his work although, should Dame Fortune ever give me a second glance - much less smile on me -  that is a situation I would gladly rectify. By the way, I hope you will have noticed that I have recently started linking the people I mention in this blog to their websites by hyperlinks; this is a way of giving you a chance to learn more about them and also paying them back for their kindnesses to me whether known or unknown . . . so if you could click on the link - as in Seb's above - I would appreciate it. Talking of spiritual homes, another place that always felt that way to me and is similarly different is Deya, a wonderful village in the north of Mallorca that I visited once and with which I fell in love; my friend the poet and musician Daevid Allen lived there, next door to author Robert Graves and other authors and painters of note . . . an amazing collection of talents in that one small place.

So what plans are afoot today? Hmmm, a very good question; I should do some writing and possibly some reading - Virginia is tugging at my conscience and I have a book of short stories by Ian Rankin to review - not to mention my dear old K9 DomQuad currently snoring at the side of the desk  who will at some point wish to venture afield despite the predictably awful weather . . . but I have an urge simply to curl up and watch an old film, maybe Rebecca, with the lovely Joan Fontaine (see above) . . . she is in the film btw, not curled upon the sofa with Yours Truly! 
One aspect of the film that intrigues me is the fact that we never learn her character's name; we know that her husband is the wealthy and eligible Max De Winter, played with icy disdain by Laurence Olivier; and the name of his first wife, the eponymous Rebecca (who remains unseen) and even the exceptionally creepy housekeeper Mrs Danvers - played superbly by the fabulous Dame Judith Anderson - but Joan's character is only ever referred to as Mrs DeWinter, my dear etc.  She and Max meet when she is acting as companion to an annoying american woman named Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates) and accompanying her around the Riviera.  Mrs Van Hopper - a social climber - fauns to Max saying that "Most girls would give their eyes for a chance to See Monte [Carlo]" to which Max replies "Wouldn't that rather defeat the object?"  Lovely stuff! 

Anyhow, we shall see; plans are, like the dominant weather system, mainly fluid and subject to change without advanced warning! I can't see me being whisked away for unknown treats and delights which would, of course, be rather fun; so a quiet and secluded day seems on the books . . . which is fine because, after all, you can always pop in and visit whenever you choose. I suppose I could even get around to updating the long-neglected Myrtle House blog although that does seem a rather energetic and somewhat radical move - we shall see how the day progresses.

And with that thought I shall leave you to your Easter; I hope you enjoy the day and the Bank Holiday to follow and that love hops after you and multiplies like bunnies do


'til next time

Be Seeing You !





* Let us always meet each other with smiles; for the smile is the beginning of love ~ Mother Theresa

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