The sun is shining right now but the clouds are mobbed by flying fat men in goggles and pillowy piles of cumulus overwhelming the wispy mares' tails that have devolved into seahorses and earthworms humping their cirrus ways across the skies. The view reminds a bit of Alejandro Jodorowsky.
I rented a documentary about his making of Frank Herbert's Dune and how the movie was only made as a storyboard book to get a studio to back it. American studios passed on the movie and David Lynch was chosen by the De Laurentiis production machine to make Dune. Jodorowsky was devastated by the choice, but the team he assembled to make his vision reality individually went on to do great things in cinema, art, and special effects. Jodorowsky's visions for his Dune were borrowed and used in many other science fiction and fantasy movies, and continue to used the seeds he planted in modern movies, like Prometheus, which is the prequel for Alien and its sequels.
I've seen worlds and beings in clouds since I was a child looking up at
the sky and dancing in the rain, but the worlds I saw through
Jodorowsky's eyes have also seeded my imagination. His vision of a
universal consciousness connected through the creative and spiritual
death of Paul Atreides lives on. Jodorowsky wanted his vision of Dune to
live and, although it didn't live in the movie he wanted to create, the
images and the consciousness of his Dune live on. At the end of his movie as Paul dies from Feyd Rautha's blade slicing through his throat, everyone says, "I
am Paul," so that everyone becomes Paul whose blood seeds the world and
spread throughout the universe. In the real world of Hollywood,
Jodorowsky's movie died before being made, but the blood of that movie,
his vision and his images, the blood of his Dune spread like
seeds throughout the industry to become part of the science fiction
landscape. Jodorowsky got what he wanted -- to change the movie business
-- and he did it image by image through the artists he changed and the
vision he offered Hollywood, a vision that clung to their minds and
their souls to become part of them and part of the future.
so the photo doesn't show the clouds, but the Kindle Fire was charging
and the cord didn't reach that far. That is, however, a picture of the
view from my chair as I write.
There will be rain again later as
there was yesterday and last night. There is always rain here, at least
for now, and it keeps the temperatures cooler than normal for the end of
August when the dog days should be in full force. I've had to turn on
the heat and sometimes use a space heater in my bedroom when the nights
dip toward the 40s.
This week has been busy with unpacking more
boxes and sorting things as they arrive. I still need to put together
the Strathmore chairs I bought for the back deck. The plastic fold
chairs were here when I moved in, as was the sun faded piece of carpet
that remains on the deck. Kevin still has not come over to measure for
the ramp for the back deck or to stain all the decks, which was supposed
to have been done before I moved in. Well, He did go to pieces over
Forrest being stolen and spirited away to Iowa, only to be returned in
the dead of night and left on the doorstep when the thief's neighbors
and various friends in Iowa let the thief know they were watching. It
doesn't pay to steal a man's dog in this age of technology and Internet
connectivity. It just doesn't.
posted a photo of Corb's underwear drawer and it is artful and
creative. All the briefs and boxers are folded neatly and placed in
order according to material, color, boxer, or brief. It's the underwear
drawer of either a budding serial killer or someone who lines up his
toiletries so the labels are easily read. Corb is an exacting kind of
person with a creative streak, the kind of person that will either make a
tyrant of a director or direct orderly mayhem when the end is near. I
can just see him calming people and sorting them by age, height, and
useful skills as they board the great ark that will take them out of
harm's way, or protect them when the big deluge comes again. He's a good
person to know when you're planning a party because everything will be
beautiful and organized.
At any rate, here is a photo snapped this morning of my underwear drawer.
I have a fondness for lace and fripperies when I wear underwear. It's mostly for me. I like the feel of silk and lace.
decided, since I already bought quite a bit of baking and cooking
equipment, and had some yeast in the freezer that was about 3 years old,
that it was time to see if the yeast was still good. The freezer did an
excellent job of keeping the yeast dormant, but active when dissolved
in liquid, even cold liquid in the manner of French bakers. I read
recently that French bread is so good because the bakers do not rush the
process, allowing the flavors to develop. I also wanted to try the
semolina flour and a recipe from one of my cookbooks, so semolina bread
must be made.
Two days ago, I made the starter. It's like making
sourdough bread, but without the white sourdough bread that results. I
let the starter sit for 24 hours and, yesterday afternoon before it was
time for work, I began making the bread, sifting together unbleached
flour, semolina, olive oil, salt, more yeast sprinkled over water, and
the starter. The dough was very sticky; I still managed to knead the
dough and put it in a lightly oiled bowl to rise, not for the 1-1/2 to 2
hours listed in the recipe, but for 8 hours while I worked. I chafed
the dough and let it rest, after punching it down, cut it in half, made 2
rounds, and waited for the next rise while heating the oven. A few
hours later, I had 2 perfectly baked rounds of semolina bread. It
sounded hollow when I tapped on the bottom and it did not feel like a
brick or fall apart, so I hadn't added too much flour while kneading. I
could barely wait for the bread to be cool enough to try, so I tore off a
hunk, slathered it with butter, and added some marmalade from one of
the jars I bought in order to taste test for the perfect marmalade.
as a side note, Rose's orange fine cut marmalade is more orange jelly
with a few hair fine slivers of orange zest rather than a real
marmalade. The zest is barely there and scattered widely through a small
jar and is quite unremarkable as far as jellies, and especially
marmalades, are concerned. I have 4 other jars to test, but I will use
this jelly because I hate wasting money and food, even if it is just
barely adequate food.
above is my remaining loaf beneath the book with the photo of what the
bread should look like (and it does) and the Victorinox bread knife I
bought that cuts through the crusty crust without damaging the tight,
soft crumb inside. The knife does a marvelous job. I cannot understand
how I lived without it before now.
Since I know how readers love
pictures to go with the writing, I have decided to provide some of my
own, taken with my Kindle Fire. I'm actually proud of the photos. Well,
except for the photo of the clouds you cannot see because the light is
wrong. I'll do better next time. For now,
That is all. Disperse.