Four weeks and now The Birds

Dear June,

Well it’s been four weeks since you rolled around and I’ve become nothing but a consumer. No purchases (I’m broke), living off rice and veggies (and the charity of friends and family). But still I consume. I’m all input and no output these days.  Day after day I sit (the stool, the bed, the sagging purple couch). I sit and I stare and I listen (words, images, noises). These are my life now – I am nothing but a sponge, soaking it in. Oh, I know it’s wrong, (but what else is there to do, darling?) And the words and the pictures are so pretty, so delightful. And the wind and the rain so cold outside this time of year. So much better to stay in.

And, oh! Did I tell you about The Birds? I ate Pizza in the dark and watched them attack again and again – the crows and the sparrows and the seagulls. And all the people running, in their pretty clothes. And the sets catching fire, the children with the blood on their faces. I drank it all in, yes, I did.

I almost forgot to tell you about her, Melanie Daniels (her real name’s Tippi Hedren, or maybe it’s not since the ‘Tippi’ was in quotations). All polished and bronzed, with those cornflower blue eyes and batting lashes. That’s the spectacle really, you see darling. Oh I know what Laura Mulvey says (don’t I know!), but how I wish sometimes I didn’t (because it’s so lovely just to look, darling). To watch her preen and strut and flutter, and to watch the man that watches her.

The last scene – (I must tell you!) I was breathless and waiting, waiting for Hitchcock‘s parting blow. There always is one, you see (a death, a revelation, a murder). And there it was – the blood again (this time her blood), and the pain and distress and horror. There was gasping and crying, as her hair came loose. Her face (oh yes!) that half-orgasm look of agony and ecstasy as they pecked at her flesh and flapped and thundered and scratched at her face. And those close-up shots (the lips parted, face tilted, her eyes half closed and half opening), my god, it was almost too much. Oh I know it’s nothing but pure sadism, darling – but (even if he is a misogynist), he really is a genius, isn’t he?

- Your faithful Hitchcock fan.

wonderful month ahead

  Ah, holidays!

Now that assessment is over and I can breathe again, I plan to get a bit better at blogging regularly (or for the next six weeks, at least)….

To start off, these are some collages I made out of the 1950s film star albums I got ages ago. This one didn’t work because of the wrong type of glue which made the paper bubble (boo) but with a bit of photoshopping, I thought it was worth posting anyway. 

The next one isn’t quite as pretty (perhaps it is the absence of Grace Kelly?) but so far I haven’t destroyed it with poor lacquering attempts.

My glorious holiday plans   include:

* Making more collages

* Attempting to alter numerous market/op-shop items on the sewing machine (hems, darts, pleats… I can totally do it!) 

 * Learning how to operate my lovely new Nikon SLR Camera (ditto)

* Getting a significant way through the epic movie list I have compiled with the help of Stuart, Jonathan, IMDB and various other recommendations. The list includes all of the films of Alfred Hitchcock and most of the films of David Lynch, plus a significant contribution from the action genre which I seem to have missed out on… much fun to be had! 

* Reading Lolita and The Sound and the Fury (I just finished A passage to India today, which I won’t comment on now because it deserves a whole post to itself…)

* The upcoming sibling holiday, which will include numerous games of Balderdash and probably much reminiscing, plus a trip to Canberra to see boyfriends friends (maybe my friends? hopefully). 

* A whole new level of domestic enquiry…  (just wait and see!)