Saturday, January 22, 2011

1933, RKO Radio Pictures Inc., Directed by George Cukor, Writing credits: Louisa May Alcott


Little Women


1933, RKO Radio Pictures Inc., Directed by George Cukor, Writing 
credits: Louisa May Alcott(novel: as Louisa M. Alcott), Sarah Y. 
Mason & Vicor Heerman


MR. LAURENCE
Um_c What's this? Why aren't you two young ladies downstairs 
dancing?

AMY
Mother said we weren't to go down with the grown-ups.

MR. LAURENCE
But can you see anything from here? How about you?

AMY
She just likes to listen to the music.

MR. LAURENCE
You just come down with me where it's playing.

BETH
Oh, no. No, sir. Please.

MR. LAURENCE
Why not? Well, my dear child, what's the matter?

AMY
She has an infirmity. 

MR. LAURENCE
Mmm?

AMY
She's shy.

MR. LAURENCE
Oh, I see.

AMY
If it weren't for that, she'd be simply fastitidious because she 
plays beautifully.

MR. LAURENCE
Oh, she must come and play for me sometime.

AMY
No. She never would.

MR. LAURENCE
Oh, it wasn't that I wanted to hear her, but that piano down 
there is simply going to ruin for want of use. I was hoping one 
you young ladies would come and practice on it. Just_c. Just to 
keep it in tune, you know. Well, if you don't care to come, never 
mind.

BETH
Oh, sir. We do care, very, very much.

MR. LAURENCE
So. So you're the musical one.

BETH
I'm Beth. I love it dearly and I'll come if you're quite sure no-
one will hear me and be disturbed.

MR. LAURENCE
Not a soul, my child. Not a soul. You come too, young lady. And 
tell your mother I think all her daughters are simply 
"fastidious".

AMY
Beth, isn't he elegant?

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Kim's Gift


"Nothing happens when you sit at home. 
I always make it a point to carry a camera with me at all times…
I just shoot at what interests me at that moment." 

Elliott Erwitt

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Being Neighborly - Louisa May Alcott (1868)


"Little Women" (1868):  Being Neighborly - Chapter 5 - Louisa May Alcott

"What in the world are you going to do now, Jo?" asked Meg one snowy afternoon, as her sister came tramping through the hall, in rubber boots, old sack, and hood, with a broom in one hand and a shovel in the other.

"Going out for exercise," answered Jo with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I should think two long walks this morning would have been enough! It's cold and dull out, and I advise you to stay warm and dry by the fire, as I do," said Meg with a shiver.

"Never take advice! Can't keep still all day, and not being a pussycat, I don't like to doze by the fire. I like adventures, and I'm going to find some."

Meg went back to toast her feet and read Ivanhoe, and Jo began to dig paths with great energy. The snow was light, and with her broom she soon swept a path all round the garden, for Beth to walk in when the sun came out and the invalid dolls needed air. Now, the garden separated the Marches' house from that of Mr. Laurence. Both stood in a suburb of the city, which was still countrylike, with groves and lawns, large gardens, and quiet streets. A low hedge parted the two estates. On one side was an old, brown house, looking rather bare and shabby, robbed of the vines that in summer covered its walls and the flowers, which then surrounded it. On the other side was a stately stone mansion, plainly betokening every sort of comfort and luxury, from the big coach house and well-kept grounds to the conservatory and the glimpses of lovely things one caught between the rich curtains.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Robert Frost: "Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words."


Tree at my Window by Robert Frost

Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues talking aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
That day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imagination about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.

Photograph:   Robert Frost's Derry Farm in New Hampshire the Maple Tree at Robert Frost's kitchen window while in residence from 1900 to 1911.   Maple tree taken down September 29, 2007.
Portrait of Maple Tree:  August 28, 2009

Monday, January 3, 2011

Emily Dickinson: Meeting by Accident


Meeting by Accident,
We hovered by design—
As often as a Century
An error so divine
Is ratified by Destiny,
But Destiny is old
And economical of Bliss
As Midas is of Gold—

Emily Dickinson