we got stopped at a US border control CHECKPOINT this evening!
sadly they didn’t want to see our green card – they just stopped Certain Cars and “ran the plates”* as they say in America
*for our British chums, that would be “As per Protocol, we called Scotland Yard and asked for Sergeant Smith to check the list of stolen vehicles from the blue folder in the last-but-one-filing-cabinet, Sir”)
we weren’t even (that) near the Border (to Mexico).
but they were definitely looking for someone else who sadly wasn’t as far along in the immigration process as we now are – being of the status of a Permanent Resident Alien (minus the Extra Terrestrial connotations).
but it’s true we did drive almost 200km in-that-direction as who-we-are-in-RL was doing some Digital Consulting.
and we’re having breakfast with friends at some terribly early hour in east L.A tomorrow so we had to drive back.
the distinct plus side was that we got to see the Ocean when we arrived this morning (slightly bleary eyed and in need of a lot of caffeine it has to be said)
as well as just as the sun was about-to-set)
l’heure bleu vraiment.
and now we must s l e e p.
sweet dreams on your side of the world (or a perky cup of tea if it’s that time of the morning already where you Are).
who-we-are-in-RL is on a consulting “gig” (as the pros call it we’ve heard, darlings)
Not on the Moon
(Although this picture looks a bit like a space station doesn’t it? Like that nice Ms. Sandie Bullock was on just recently).
But somewhere that is Very close to somewhere pretty and when she said too tired to drive back…..
We asked Mr. Expedia to find a Room and tomorrow we shall awake refreshed and excited to see the beach where our friend Marilyn (in a virtual sense obviously although she would have been such a delight to spend time with)frolicked with Mr. Tony Curtis and Mr. Jack Lemmon when they were in dresses for Part of the time.
we got back very late last night (later because of the Halloween Parade which we COMPLETELY forgot went through our ‘hood and so the traffic was immense and the costumes curiously interesting).
where we we?
oh.
*saidvaguely*
about 100 miles south of Here.
consulting.
we weren’t consulting (we wouldn’t know How).
who-we-are-in-RL was doing so (rather well, from what we could see from our perch by the door curled up on a sofa in the Lobby with a battered copy of a Sybille Bedford novella.)
tomorrow?
MANHATTAN?
tuesday?
LONDON?
thursday?
DUBAI (only briefly – en route – changing planes to…..)
friday?
SOUTH AFRICA!
gosh.
we’re exhausted already and we haven’t got on the first (of many) flights.
but tis a glorious life, non?
and that’s just the Trip Out There – there’s a lovely weekend in Whitstable planned for the Way Back.
will you indulge us by looking at a few of our “snaps”?
water features abound in open air malls where we stopped for a tiny embrace of caffeine and a snack of an individually wrapped cheese portion.
california is a very lovely place to drive therein.
we don’t drive this vehicle – but it might be fun – just for a Coastal Trip once. Non?
and admired the open air fruit and vegetable sellers as Nathan Welden (not shown) sang to the gathered quiet crowd.
we watched the sun fall into the sea…..so beautifully last night….
we stopped and watched the Train pass through Town at dusk.
Toot! Toot!
there’s something about sunsets.
that make any long journey just so worthwhile an experience.
even when there’s three (yup) traffic accidents on the I-5 then some other freeway that the global positioning system suggested we take as a detour and one gets silent and turns off the music to be respectful.
it’s chilling actually.
even when it’s still warm in California.
to think that not everybody makes it home.
*pauseforthought*
but we hope to.
and you’ll come with us (in a virtual sense because we can’t fit Anything More in the silver samsonite) on our trip won’t you?
it’ll be less lonely in all those airports if you’re there too.
*sighs*
one cannot complain.
especially because we heard that The Book has gone to the Printers.
*squeal*
something funny happens every time we tell someone the Title and they have one of Two responses:
example 1:
Oh! I need that…….*sighs*
OR
example 2:
*raisedEyebrow* have you learned how to then?
the difference is in people we’ve just met (example 1) and people-we-already-know (example 2).
one is said with a delicious sense of expectation and delight and whimsy
the other might well be accompanied by an Ironic Tone.
we saw the sunrise today – and we’ll probably be around to watch it set because we’re off to the movies (and we’re VERY EXCITED because it’ll be the first time we’ve seen THISon the big screen – well – let’s see – it must be – *looksfarawayintomiddledistance* a Very Long Time Ago).
so very excited.
when the opening scene unfolds to the haunting strains of King Curtis playing Procul Harum’s A Whiter Shade of Pale we shall probably start weeping for our mis-spent (and yet highly cinematic in its own right) Youth.
if you can see this transmission in your territory, we highly recommend turning off all the lights and gathering around the screen.
*tears_optional* depending on your history of course.
so what else?
*attemptstocomebacktoReality* (not always easy, or even preferable to be honest).
well – lots, actually.
in order to stay awake and Alert during the day we’ve been getting up very early and taking a nice walk and then sitting with our toes in the swimming pool, taking a moment to feel grateful and alive and empty our head of thoughts (yes, meditating – of sorts).
and admiring roses along the way.
and drinking an awful lot of caffeine.
and watching the sunrise (this was 05:45AM this morning)
this was 06:00AM.
almost a Cezanne, non?
and then we Get Down To Work.
and there’s lots of it (which is such a pleasant thing to say – who-we-are-in-RL has been Very Busy out there in the World)
and she’s been having important meetings (and shining her shoes ever so nicely before heading out the door).
and driving up into the Hills and taking time to turn around and just *gasp* at the View (well, wouldn’t you? #divine).
and the work is going very well (nope, not allowed to Say Anything About It At All).
but we want to be writing This too (this is our dream cast – it helps to imagine actors, don’t you agree?) we’d started to re-write the screenplay again – while we do the novel version too (not New as in Novel but Book as in novel).
we know we’ve shown you this before but we’ve made a few Tweaks and it helps to put it out into the Universe because then we’re One step nearer to seeing it at the Cinema – you understand, don’t you? when we’re tired, it keeps us going…..
The Goddess, The Writer And The Eternal Soul
by sophia stuart
It was one of those really rainy nights in London where umbrellas are all but useless. It had been pouring down for hours and people ducked into doorways or crowded into bus shelters and generally looked damp and careworn.
Everyone that is apart from one glitteringly beautiful goddess who walked down the center of Charing Cross Road without an umbrella or a hat or even a coat. But nobody saw her because she was an invisible being, in fact the leader of the Muses (and thus a real goddess).
Calliope did not feel at all goddess-like this evening. She was enraged by a headline on the evening newspaper. It said, “ARE LIFE COACHES THE NEW MUSES?”
She walked on further almost towards Trafalgar Square, which was now crammed bumper to bumper with cars, cabs and buses all stuck in the rush hour, horns blaring. She took a sharp right, sweeping regally past the guards and into the depths of the National Portrait Gallery.
Rushing through the galleries (blowing a kiss to the young Queen Victoria’s portrait) she sped up to the next floor flying through the Tudors, Stuarts and through the late eighteenth century to the nineteenth galleries. She stopped as soon as she reached The Romantics room with Blake, Shelley and Keats.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, catching her breath. The portraits, of course, stayed silent. But she knew something of their spirits was contained in the paint. “Nobody believes in us anymore.” The portraits did not reply. “They have replaced us with humans they call Life Coaches.”
A young male student wandered into the gallery and sat down in front of the Keats painting. He opened up a slim volume of poetry and started to read, looking up at the portrait from time to time with tears in his eyes. Calliope watched him for a while in wonder. Then she drifted over to his chair and stood behind him, stroking his hair gently and kissing the back of his neck. The young man was astonished. He could feel something but there was no one there. Calliope put her hands on the book and turned the page out of interest, to see which poem was next. The young man dropped the book in fright and ran away.
Calliope sat on the chair and read from the book.
“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching…….”
She looked up at Keats and smiled. “Now that one was glorious, I remember it so well.” Leaving the book carefully on the chair, she raised her arms towards the tips of the gold frames and said, “Find me a so-called Life Coach who could inspire such beauty, darlings.”
And with that she laughed and ran out of the gallery and caught the next celestial transporter to a small town just outside of Los Angeles. According to the magazine articles, that was where they trained these new Life Coaches in their bid to become Muses.
There is a place in southern California called Donal Bay. It’s a few miles down the coastal road from Santa Monica on the way to Venice Beach and you would miss it if you didn’t slow down and turn left just five minutes (in mellow traffic) as soon as you spot the pier on the ocean side.
There are twinkle lights entwined between all the palm trees down Main Street, an Irish bar, 1940s era eggs and coffee breakfast place, a newsstand with all the Italian and Parisian fashion magazines next to surfing and boating news. There are also several tiny cafes with small round tables in between all the yoga studios and alternative healing emporia. These cafes are the sort of places you could easily imagine eating lemon gelato mid-morning with fizzy mineral water in sky blue tall glasses.
Calliope strokes her arm.
CALLIOPE
Let it go. I’ll talk to you.
Lily suddenly relaxes and pulls the car out of the garage.
Calliope moves her hand over Lily’s arm to “read” her.
CALLIOPE (CONT’D)
Just turned thirty-five? Your eternal soul must be coming
down to meet you. Who do you have?
She flicks her right hand and pulls up a screen.
CALLIOPE (CONT’D)
Liam McCann. Give me strength.
EXT. DONAL BAY BEACH - AFTERNOON
Liam and Cornelius emerge from the surf. Liam is grumpy
LIAM
It’s not exactly the South of France is it?
This just in ———
21:38 hours (in a random deli, waiting for a bowl of chicken matzo ball noodle soup)
It was sublime.
*sighs*
Mr. Bruce Robinson writes and directs like the twisted dark angel heir to the tossed nights of fervid imagination of yeats and blake….
as well as just as the sun was about-to-set)
