I am reading Madame Bovary once more. I read it in high school, but I read it the way I read almost everything else in high school: hastily, lazily and superficially. I picked up a brilliant translation by Lydia Davis, and couldn't be more swept away. The attention to detail, and vivid portraiture of Madame and Monsieur Bovary, is just the kind of sumptuous literary world I was craving. The book also has me a little obsessed with the idea of the whole life imitating art imitating life thing... How many times has this relationship repeated itself over the course of history? And is it as predictable and tragic as Emma's story.
In tune, as always, Paris Review posted this Partial Inventory of Gustave Flaubert's Personal Effects.
I'm an LA transplant now living in Manhattan. I used to take too many camera phone photos despite never having purchased an additional memory card. That was the main form of photo evidence for my "haciendo" and "viendo" until Kristen, an LA based friend I share the having of a knife tattoo behind my ear with, gave me her old Fujifilm camera, which has since DIED. Kristen is now removing her knife tattoo from behind her ear, while mine is still in tact, for better or for worse. The camera died on my first day in Lisbon. The last image it captured was a collection of traditional blue & white ceramic wares displayed in a storefront window. Whatever I was trying to photograph afterwards wasn't worth it. I write and produce film projects, have a dangerous predilection for vintage Robinson Golluber scarves and this blog serves as a window to everything else I do when I'm not satisfying those first two passions. I'm trying to blog more and tweet less @annabelleqv. What about you?