Bunch your matter and count the pages.

by Ryland Walker Knight

Back to widget time. Really. Just want to sell some books, even if this internet thing is part of the reason why lovable stores like Black Oak (and Cody's, of course) are long gone. So, here's some stuff you should read, and probably own, if you haven't/don't already, along with some quick plugs for some DVDs (released and yet to be released) that I'll be bringing up and blogging about, again, in greater depth, soon. Cough:

• As inspired by his recent Fresh Air interview, which was amazing for how moving it was on top of how hilarious it was, I want to nod at what Tracy Morgan was helping sell: his memoir, I Am the New Black.
  


• Since I took off that Library of America collection, but couldn't leave off my man, here's a plug for the paperback I own of Pale Fire, which may be the best book ever.
  


• Georges Perec's Species of Spaces is pretty phenomenal, as is most of his work, and this Penguin edition is an affordable introduction to one of the great Oulipo brains (and hairdos) to create language fun full of wit and smarts. I think I like Perec more than Queneau, if that matters.
  


• Coming out of Bright Star the other day, I spent a lot of energy thinking about how much I wanted to read all kinds of Keats. I did not buy any, and may not yet, but I may check this Complete Poems and Selected Letters put out by Modern Library Classics. [Update: You can also get the poems, all of them, for free right here.] The Brawne-inspired poem that gives Campion her title is quite lovely, and Ben Whishaw reads it well; recites it well, too, laid against Abbie Cornish's breast. Still thinking about the film...
  


• And, for good measure, here's some movies I'll be writing about shortly: from The Criterion Collection, Wim Wender's perhaps-pinnacle (or a high point never touched again?), Wings of Desire, and Chantal Akerman's seminal structuralist block of routine-art that couches feminist politics inside a maze of linoleum and potatoes, Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles; from the long-lost file (also the terrible art direction file), John Huston's final film, The Dead, adapted from James Joyce's short story of the same name (itself the final story of its Dubliners book), which I've recently re-read.

Cosmic calls in on us, again.

by Ryland Walker Knight

I'd planned on letting that last widget post lapse past the page, but, well, this early AM I got excited about some more recommendations from my daily dials. The coding on the widget is a little wonky, but, still, I'm updating it. Here goes. Most immediate would be that I just finished watching Criterion's Renoir box set of films from the 1950s, Stage and Spectacle, and I cannot sing its praises enough. Not only are the films all delightful, and typically excellent, but spread across the three discs is the interview Jacques Rivette conducted with le maitre, called "Jean Renoir parle de son art," which has as many lessons about cinema (and art in general) as you'll get in a full semester of study. Essential viewing. Likewise, Bill Callahan's Woke on a Whaleheart has been getting a bunch of spins around these parts. I'm going to have to return my library copy of Infinite Jest this week and hope to pick up another copy at my next local, but you can certainly buy one because it's worth it; I'd just rather spend that $12 on some food right now. Or, I could put it towards a copy of that new Farber on Film behemoth (which Glenn wrote a few words about over here). Finally, in my haze yesterday, browsing around (somewhere, anywhere), I learned that the Blu Ray release of 2001: A Space Odyssey is currently being sold at a staggering discount, which is another disc I'd love to own along with the requisite player. Can't beat 70mm at the Castro, but it's better than standard def on a tube. Some day soon, we can hope!

— There's sap in the trees if you tap'm
10.06.09: Added five more things to give the lil box two pages of fun stuff. Quickly: (1) Nabokov: Novels 1955-1962: Lolita / Pnin / Pale Fire for the greatest 20th Century novelist's most recognizably seminal works; (2) That FatCat reissue of Spirit They're Gone, Spirit They've Vanished + Danse Manitee for how those wacky Bmore guises got started; (3) The Cary Grant Box Set (Holiday / Only Angels Have Wings / The Talk of the Town / His Girl Friday / The Awful Truth) for the best Hollywood actor of all time in some of the best Hollywood pictures of all time; (4) A Christmas Tale for being the best picture of what I feel about families, and mine (with more words soon upon this DVD's release); and (5) the game of Scattergories for all the fun it's brought me through the years.

Whistle while you widget

by Ryland Walker Knight

I don't have a license to sell you these.
After reading Shoals' relaunch of the FD widget earlier today, I asked him if he thought I'd do well to follow suit and bring some Amazonian presence back to my sidebar. The chat, though quick, was thorough, or thorough enough, and lead to the inevitable "Why not?" conclusion. It doesn't look too tacky, and if I make a feature out of it, writing little blurbs every now and again, maybe you'll be so kind as to start your Amazon purchases here, at VINYL IS HEAVY, so we (that is, I) can get a teeny-tiny kick-back every month. You know the drill: every bit helps in this economy! The occasional link here and there—and my old suggestion buttons at the bottom of the old sidebar in the old layout—brought in some unexpected and welcome beer money, and now that we're getting more eyes than ever, I thought, why not take up that old shameless shilling tag and put it to good use.

For our first batch of recommendations, we have some obvious VINYL favorites. And, note, that even if you don't buy any of these items, and buy something else, like, say, Gossip Girl Season 1 on DVD, you'll still be helping out if you start here. Thus, in no particular order, here's what we're hocking/highlighting:

• The New World: The Extended Cut on Blu-Ray. I don't have a Blu-Ray player, or a PS3, but if I did this would be the first disc I'd buy because, as many of you may know, it's one of my favorite movies ever, and possibly my second-favorite film of this decade we're ending. It's gorgeous. And the disc is super cheap, which is a bonus. You can read more of my thoughts back at The House Next Door.
  
  
• Stanley Cavell's The World Viewed, which I lost only two weeks into the new year on an A-train back to Bed-Stuy from a screening of the mostly-skipped-over California Dreamin, which is a fine little film that my buddy Keith Uhlich likes a great deal. At any rate, Cavell's book is seminal for my thinking. And I've leaned on it, not Bazin, for much of my ontological thoughts about the image. Here's our Stanley Cavell tag.
  
  
• Manuel Göttsching's E2-E4, which I first mentioned in the first-ever convergence back on Feb 28th, 2009. It's a bit pricey, since it's only available as an import, but, man, it's something special. The beginnings of so much cool stuff, including LCD Soundsystem's indelible 45:33 mix (according to Wikipedia).
  
  
• Arthur Russell's Love is Overtaking Me, which was compiled and released last year, which I made mention of back at this post. If you're feeling blue, or you want someone to touch you in your ears on your way inside, to your heart, maybe, then give this long-player a spin. The title track alone is worth the world.
  
  
• The one, the only, the massive, the hilarious: Don Quixote. I've been reading Edith Grossman's translation for a couple months now thanks to a gift from my dad and, boy, this thing is a hoot. Sure, it's big and it'll eat up your time, and you'll be committing to an undertaking, but don't think of it that way: think of all the jokes you get on every page, in every sentence. And Grossman's translation is rightly renowned for its readability (and footnotes).

—Sure do love you out there!

L'avventura: Mapping Monica

by Ryland Walker Knight

Seeing as this masterpiece is next week's Metro Classic and it stars VINYL's beloved Monica Vitti, Mike commissioned an image essay from yours truly to help sell the event. I was more than happy to oblige. You can see the work both at the Classics Blog or at VINYL IS IMAGES. My essay, however, doesn't quite address the theme of the series/week (as Mike laid out back here), nor does it address its own problem of fetishizing Ms Vitti, though Antonioni clearly has the same problem despite attacking men's lust and, yup, their proclivity to objectify women—even women they love, or think they love. Worst, I fear, is the picture of men treating women as disposable or interchangeable. It's not exactly a happy picture, if you, by some odd luck, haven't seen it and happen to be reading this blog. However, downer though it may be, it sure is pretty. And, of course, so is she. So, if this bit of furtive associations about space and faces (of one face) winds up enticing, and you live in Seattle: please, by all means, go see the film on a big screen with loud speakers. Otherwise, wait patiently for that new print that debuted at Cannes to make the art-house rounds. Again: click here to see my map.

Holiday in His Eye [UPDATED]

by Ryland Walker Knight

To get as Mobius strip as possible, here's a quick pointer to a links post I did at The Auteurs today about all the Cary Grant in the world of blogs and rep houses.

UPDATED: For those not in Brooklyn, nor with patience for Netflix/the internet, there's a full day of Cary Grant on TCM this Sunday, the 9th.

"Is this a commercial? I think this is a commercial."

by Mikey

Five years ago when I started working at Seattle's Metro Cinemas (famously named "one of Landmark's least charming theatres" by the Stranger) I didn't know shit about film. Frankly after reading posts by others on sites like this one, I realize that I still don't know shit about film. But I'm learning. For me there has been no finer crash course for this wild world of cinema than the repertory program I co-host, co-curate and co-ddle, Metro Classics.


The most obvious elements I have gleaned since starting the series are the titles, stars and entire genres that I have fallen in love with, which without Metro Classics I probably wouldn't have sought out. The Red Shoes, Ginger Rogers and Westerns jump immediately to mind. Beyond that I have also been forced to look at film from several alternate angles, separate from being a giddy audience member, which I luckily also manage to remain. How can we create an exciting calendar that manages to balance offbeat, rarely seen features (my beloved Pennies From Heaven) with surefire moneymakers (the equally awesome Forbidden Planet) to keep the show afloat? How can we weave these titles into an interesting theme that brings about new dimensions to the films and manages to put the season into some sort of perspective? How do we keep the idea of presenting repertory films exciting and fresh in a city with no shortage of revival houses (plus the greatest video store in the world)? These challenges, though vexing at times, are what keep me engaged and energetic about this two-bit enterprise when we're six weeks deep and I'm at work on my day off, spouting inane trivia questions to elderly couples who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

A lot of my biases and preconceptions about how repertory should be run have also been thrown into question since starting the series. When we first got up and running I was one of the most vocal proponents for running as many titles as possible on 35mm. That just seemed like the biggest no-brainer. But beginning with the difference I noticed between the Searchers print we ran, which had so many splices in it that the iconic final shot was severely truncated, and the digital version we ran for the staff at midnight, I started singing a different tune. My jaw was on the floor with that digital screening. The colors were popping, the soundtrack was slamming, Monument Valley never looked so damn good.


My disillusionment with 35mm has only grown since. On two occasions we have actually had to acquire a digital replacement at the last minute because the prints we were shipped were in too poor condition to run. Unless it's something that gets played all the time or they just happened to strike a new print for an upcoming DVD release, the films are generally beaten-up, scratched and faded. For the most part studios no longer pay any attention to their archive division, if in fact they still have one. In the last year alone we have noticed a significant decrease in even the availability of prints. We always specify when we propose a calendar "35mm when available". It's telling that this go-around we only managed one out of nine when last year we had seven.

Most repertory theatres don't have a choice on what format they can run, but we've been very lucky to have a fancy Sony 4k digital projector at our disposal. I defy anyone to make the case for running 35 after they've seen something on Blu-Ray pumping out of those twin lamps (or any of the other higher end models that have been released over the last several years.)

Trust me, I understand the knee-jerk reaction of wanting to experience something you can't get at home if you're shelling out $10 to see a film that could arrive in your mailbox. That's why we try and make our screenings more of a heightened experience with giveaways, the aforementioned trivia, and the side-splitting antics of Sean and me. We're like Laurel and Hardy. We're fans of film and we just want to share these ideas and artistic achievements with people. Curating for me is like making a mixtape, it's very idiosyncratic but when done correctly can add a new layer to a universal work you already love.

If you're in Seattle anytime between now and forever, stop by the Metro and say hello.

Liars, Thieves and Cheats: New Metro Classics Calendar

by Ryland Walker Knight

Click me!
Sean Gilman brings us news of the brand, spanking new Metro Classics Calendar over at the brand, spanking new Metro Classics Blog. This season's series has all kinds of goodies, and the new blog already has a good primer on its inspiration. If you remember, we did a kind of internet interview a little while back for the previous calendar, which you can read here. I'll save more extensive table setting to Mikey, who will probably pop up here before too long with his own kind of preview. For now, here's the place mats. Of the new line-up I'd most like to see F For Fake projected, but, as the case is, I'll have you know that I'm gonna ladle out some thoughts on the series opener, Charade, just as soon as I can grab some images I like.

Metro Classics Speak. An internet interview.

by Ryland Walker Knight

[From tonight's film, The Maltese Falcon]
As we wrote earlier, the impetus for Metro Classics began during my last stop-over in Seattle some fall seasons ago. It was a fun dream to cultivate. It's been yet more fun to see it materialize from afar since that time. And with each calendar my friends Sean and Mike put together, I routinely forget to make mention of it here on VINYL. Not so this time! I'm very proud of their pet project as I feel I have some kind of ancestral stake in its future and so I thought: Heck, why not ask these guys about it so far and, you know, blog about it? If we can throw some eyes their way, and perhaps some patrons, we would love to wield such a power. Also, this random-fire set of questions was a veiled excuse to correspond beyond the every-so-often note like, say, "I've been fighting through that Bolano book, too! It's great!" So, here's some Q'n'A with the twin brains behind the always-fun Metro Classics series...

[From the final film of the calendar, Pennies From Heaven, to screen April 29th @ 6:50 and 9:15 PM]
What's the first repertory film you saw in a theatre? When and where?

Sean Gilman: When I was a kid (mid 1980s), the independent art theatre in Spokane (there was only one) had a summer series of kids movies. The one I remember seeing was Yellow Submarine, but there were others, too. After that, there was nothing until one of the dollar theatres in Spokane played Casablanca in 1996 or so. In the spring of '98, while visiting Boston I saw Seven Samurai and Mr. Arkadin at the Brattle in Cambridge. That summer, I moved to Seattle and one of the first things I did was see three Kurosawa movies at the Varsity (Rashomon, Throne of Blood and The Hidden Fortress). I filled out my Landmark Theatres job application during the intermission of the Throne/Fortress double feature.

Mike Strenski: It was either The Wizard of Oz or Harvey, both of which I saw at the beautiful Stanford Theater in Palo Alto at a very young age. I remember them coloring the sidewalk out front in yellow chalk for Oz and sitting high up in the balcony. It was the first time I noticed a reel change because I could see the path of the light coming from the booth.

There's talk of the movies turning into a more specialist art with patrons, as with opera or with plays, as the home market continues to develop and improve. How do you see the movie theatre evolving into the next decade? Do you think thoughtful retrospective calendars may play a role in the continued success and interest in a movie theatre experience?

Sean: I don't really see any parallel with opera at all. Cinema is a mass entertainment. It's the cheapest, most convenient thing for people to do between dinner and sex on Friday night. HDTV doesn't change that.

What digital cinema (both projectors and high-quality digital versions of films) offers is the opportunity to show repertory films with very little overhead. Rep cinema died in the 90s as the cost of renting and shipping prints skyrocketed. With digital, you're not shipping anything, and the distributor doesn't have to worry about print damage.

Mike: Repertory totally has a place in the future of cinema, the current programming/cinema model just needs to change. With digital presentation the cost of exhibiting these movies is negligible and more theatres should look to turning one or two of their 20 to 30 screens into permanent rep houses. Show The Searchers for a week-long run in a hundred seat house. It will bring out a diverse (and more importantly) loyal crowd than using that 27th screen for another copy of Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

What films bring the biggest crowds at Metro Classics? Can you even answer that (legally speaking)?

Sean: I wish we knew. Our best weeks were Casablanca, The Wizard of Oz (which you'd expect) and The Red Shoes (which is a little surprising). Aside from the top two outliers, we tend to do best with films that are popular, but not too popular (think Blue Velvet or Purple Rain as opposed to The Manchurian Candidate or Notorious).

Mike: The tried and true "classics", hands down. Casablanca raked in the cash, as did The Red Shoes and Oz. At the onset of programming these calendars, I assumed people would be burnt out on these titles because they're so ubiquitous but their popularity refuses to wane.

Is there a target audience in Seattle you aim for? Who do want to see come out?

Sean: People who like movies. We try to keep the series diverse, with movies that appeal to all different kinds of people. The one thing that holds it together is they're all movies we think movie lovers would like.

Mike: Another assumption I was completely wrong on was the demographic of our audience. I thought we would be catering to the college crowd nearby, with a room full of film majors but our clientele is predominately older couples who live in the surrounding neighborhoods. I think if there is any target audience that Sean and I are aiming for it's ourselves. We're far too out of touch to know what people want to see, which is proven week in and week out at our shows.

How long does each calendar take to assemble? Do you have to narrow your dream list a lot? Or is it more pragmatic?

Sean: We kick around ideas for awhile at random times (we've been thinking about something to do with locations for the last year or so), but once we settle on the idea, we generally get the lineup set in a single evening. We've not yet been able to book every film we initially planned on. Such are the vagaries of print availability and tangled rights issues.

Mike: Sean and I usually toss around theme ideas during the final weeks of the current series until we stumble on something we are both excited about. Then we spend another couple of weeks refining it and creating ever more intricate subsets that strait jacket our film options. I like working in boxes within boxes within boxes which makes the programming ever more difficult. How many Shakespearean adaptations fit into the adventure/sci-fi/musical category? We then sit around biting our nails for a good fortnight while the booking department secures the films or tells us to go back to the drawing board. All in all, I spend my whole life planning this malarkey.

Where did the idea for Adaptations come from?

Sean: I honestly don't remember. We'd done decades, directors, genres, countries and families, source material seemed like a natural next step.

Mike: I don't remember. Sean I think. I know I came up with the Page/Stage/Image line. I'll totally take credit for that. And Pennies from Heaven.

Sean: I'm pretty sure I came up with "Page, Stage, Image". . . . If not, I approved right away.

Mike: Dream on, I came up with that shit. I remember you were in the manager's chair and I was sitting on the other side of the table. You came up with pretty much everything else this go around.

What's your dream double bill? Have you programmed anything approaching that?

Sean: I don't know about a dream double bill, how about The Gang's All Here and Chungking Express? I liked our Nosferatus double feature, with the Murnau and Herzog versions. But really we haven't had a chance to do as many as we'd like.

Mike: My dream double bill would probably be something like City Lights and WALL*E. Good luck on that one. The Nosferatu double feature was pretty slamming. We've only done a couple double bills because we have to find a public domain film that fits the bill to keep costs down.

What's been your favorite program?

Sean: The genres series last Spring was our most successful, and was also a lot of fun (it was three Gershwin musicals (Shall We Dance, An American In Paris, Funny Face) three Westerns with scores by folk rock legends (Pat Garret & Billy The Kid, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, Dead Man) and three movies about musicians with colors in the title (The Red Shoes, The Blues Brothers, Purple Rain).

Mike: Going back to my themes within themes idea, I am most proud of our nine week music series with three films each in the following categories: Gershwin Musicals; Westerns with Scores by Folk Rock Musicians; and Movies about Musicians with Colors in the Title. We got to play Purple Rain!

Your favorite particular night on a program?

Sean: It's always fun when a bunch of people show up to a movie you love and have a great time with it. The Red Shoes was great because I was surprised at just how many people showed up. But other nights, with fewer people, can be just as fun, if the crowd is really enjoying the movie.

Mike: There have been a few. Duck Soup on the 4th of July was fun, The New World the day before Thanksgiving. Did I mention Purple Rain?

I haven't been able to attend any of these evenings of course but my other Seattle friends tell me you two have trivia to go along with the shows. What is a sample question? Do people get the answers correct ever? What do they win?

Sean: I try to make the questions pretty hard to start with, but I've a number of them that get progressively easier as people fail to guess them. I think we only ran out of questions once, we managed to make something up though. The most complicated was something along the lines of: what 5 (pre-Departed) films was Martin Scorsese nominated for the Best Director Oscar, who and for what films did he lose each of those years?

Mike: Oh god, Sean comes up with the most convoluted questions in the world. They're like seven parts and involve naming the gaffer on the third film of the director's that was released only in Poland for one week. . . I am getting accustomed to standing in front of a dead silent auditorium.

Where would you like to see Metro Classics go to next?

Sean: I'd like us to have a regular, year round, 7 days a week program. But that's probably not realistic for the near future.

Mike: It would be awesome if it was a permanent institution playing every night in a small auditorium for three weirdos, one of which is me.

I often think that rep calendars prove that film history (like all history) is not a to b linear—that we organize our thought in wildly tangential ways, often around themes. As anybody who watches a lot of movies is a student of movies, what can you say you learn from watching these movies like this in this order?

Sean: I don't think we have any kind of educational intention in mind, other than "these are great movies and we think you should watch them". You can learn things with the contrasts sometimes, for example, we specifically opposed three Herzog movies to three Malick movies, because they seem so opposite in their view of the natural world. But generally, the themes have been organizational and not pedagogic.

Mike: Perspective is everything. Hearing "Das Rheingold" crop up in Herzog's Nosferatu and then again three weeks later in The New World. New angles, man.

What do you think your job is as the programmers?

Sean: I just like giving people the chance to see movies I love. My job is to program it in such a way that we'll draw enough people to let us keep going.

Mike: To waste the company's money.

[click to enlarge]

Seattle Specific: Metro Classics Adapts.

by Michael Strenski and Ryland Walker Knight

[click to enlarge]
Our friend Sean already announced the line-up at his blog but we thought we might as well put up a notice here as well. The idea for this series began to gestate during Ry's last whirl through Seattle when we three worked together there at Landmark's Metro Cinemas but it was really the adventurousness and curiosity (the tenacity!) of those two guys who stayed that got it going after RWK left. So, here's the lead copy on the flier:

This spring, Metro Classics returns. Each quarter we pick a theme and bring you a variety of movies on that theme. This season: Adaptations, nine weeks of films based on other media — with the added twist that we’re grouping the adaptations not only by their original source material (three weeks each of books, plays and moving pictures) but also by three different genres (three weeks each of adventure, science fiction and musicals.) Does that make sense? We didn’t think so. Think of this flyer as a BINGO card.

And here's a run-down of the films on the schedule. Come on, Seattle! Go see some good stuff! Go have some fun! Prove that silly article correct!

PAGE

• Mar. 04 - The Maltese Falcon (USA, 1941) @ 7:00 and 9:15 PM
  
• Mar. 11 - Barbarella (France/Italy, 1968) @ 7:00 and 9:15 PM
  
• Mar. 18 - Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (USA, 1953) @ 7:00 and 9:00 PM

STAGE

• Mar. 25 - My Own Private Idaho (USA, 1991) @ 6:50 and 9:15 PM
  
• Apr. 01 - Forbidden Planet (USA, 1956) @ 7:00 and 9:15 PM
  
• Apr. 08 - Kiss Me Kate (USA, 1953) @ 6:50 and 9:15 pm

IMAGE

• Apr. 15 - A Fistful Of Dollars (Italy, 1964) @ 7:00 and 9:15 PM
  
• Apr. 22 - The Fly (USA, 1986) @ 7:00 and 9:15 PM
  
• Apr. 29 - Pennies From Heaven (USA, 1981) @ 6:50 and 9:15 PM

Quick Plug: the curator corner

by Ryland Walker Knight

A word to the wise: starting today, in tandem with a new venture, I'm hitting a new blog space with daily enthusiasms. It's called "the curator corner" and you can find it right here. That new venture? I'll be helping out at Art+Culture as it prepares for a relaunch in the coming calendar year. We are currently in private beta. If you're curious, which we trust you shall be, drop us a line and come play with some of our tasty tool set. See you there!

[PS— Don't forget The Che Letters!]

Two thousand weight? #6: Quick Wendy and Lucy plug.

by Claire Twisselman

I think I want to call it the American film of the year. I think it's for me the way There Will Be Blood was for me last year. Like: how come more people won't see this thing? It's only 80 minutes long! It won't eat up your day like Che. Check here to see when it comes near you. And then see it, of course. People tell me to kick myself that I didn't see Ballast, but I don't think that one will kick me the way this one kicks me. It's a good thing. Heck, it's a great thing. We need to look at the margins more.

Reminder: Mirror tonight at PFA.

by Ryland Walker Knight

Tonight at 6:30 to be precise. Why does this get special mention among all the cinema I've been enjoying recently? Well, because. Just because. Because it's great; it's where the water's at; it's beautiful; it's a favorite. And I can link to some stuff I've written before on this masterpiece.

• "More Eternity. More Mirror talk." [VINYL]
  
• "Making the Mortal Immortal" [Reverse Shot]
  
• And there's also Steve's Mirror mashup. [youtube]

Do yourself a favor if you live near by and see one of the great things tonight.

She weaves all things together. ——Mother, now I know where you live.

More soon, once I find the time to actually watch this thing I love. I can't believe I've waited so long. I can't believe this is here and I'm not watching it now. I can't believe the joy of holding this plastic and not knowing when I'll slip the disc in, when I will let the wash fill me, when I might build a new cathedral in words, when I may see these sites anew and fresh, when the water will flow past my fingers and dance on my eyes all sparkles, when we will sing. Soon, we say, soon soon; see the world. Go frolic forth first. The time will present itself, it's there, bubbling, waiting to surface. Come, spirit, out of the soul of me.



[Youtube clip sent my way by Dave Guzman.]