zippy, the movie.

darlings

this. just. in.

zippy, the movie.

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as we mentioned before, we went to palm springs to make a movie about zippy (and see GB of course, too, which was lovely).

zippy and teamgloria conferred out by the (delicious) pool about Theme and Music and Concept.

we were Pretty surprised (he’s very mellow you see) to find out that zippy’s Idea was more of the classic Bond movie (classic as in Mr. Connery).

gosh.

well, we said.

that’s a Splendid shorthand-for-a-short (or “the high concept” as they call it in movieland where one says “Classic Bond, as in Connery” and everyone nods as if they “get it instantly” which not everyone Does but one must Never Admit That in a Pitch Meeting you see).

then we turned the camera on and zippy Flew (not literally, we just mean Fast) around the delicious palm springs property and was very Active.

until he wasn’t.

and then he slept for reels and reels and reels (if we were shooting Film that’s what we would say – sadly we are not on celluloid but we try to Light as if we were) but we continued to shoot that too.

finally there were some Tricks (also known as “structured play”) done (the final Action Shot of the water squirting scene – we did Several Takes to get that right).

and then it was a Wrap.

we must share zippy’s video with sparky to get his input too – such different visual styles (Sparky loves Godard more than Mr. Connery) – but both Great To Work With (as actors always say when they do the DVD extras).

hmmm.

*lookstocamera*

DVD extras?

now there’s a thought….

watching the rosy glow of dawn from a tan lounger in the desert cities.

darlings

it’s sunday morning at 06:40AM precisely.

we are rested.

and revived.

and ready.

whatever we’re meant to be ready For.

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we have footage “in the can” of z i p p y to edit our little 30s spot. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

the breathtaking heat (109 degrees yesterday) has burned (gently) all excess energy away and rendered us Quiet and contemplative.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

the dawn this morning was gorgeous – we awoke suddenly at 05:37 – no reason – no noise – odd – so we took the camera and c a r e f u l l y and q u i e t l y opened the sliding doors to the pool-shimmering terrace with the new desert plantings and there it was – the d a w n rising over the mountains. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

the rosy glow – a single bird – a strong breeze – lying back on a fabric covered lounger we closed our eyes and felt the sun rise slowly in the sky.
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and there it was – morning. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAso we made a (vast) pot of coffee and came back to bed, to write to you.

hello.

aren’t sundays delicious?

hello, palm springs.

darlings

it’s gorgeous here.

and the mercury is rising…….it was 104 degrees (whatever that is in old money) when we arrived late yesterday #phew.

a scorcher.

and delicious.

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OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAwe have a book to read, thoughts to let roam around one’s head, blood pressure to see drop, a pool to swim in, splendid companionship with the Host (mr. GB) and a movie to make………..

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here’s our subject.

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Zippy is ready for his close-up.

morning thoughts of storms, exhibitions and building a new life.

darlings

there was a terrific windy storm in los angeles last night – the windows rattled and the gusts blew – so we lounged inside, slightly exhausted from the long drive back from palm springs (a delicious Trip!) – and sipped warm milk with a chunky cinnamon  stick and watched Danish TV on DVDs (as one does).

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while the wind raged outside, we remembered the Last Time we drove back from Palm Springs – do you recall? It was just-over-two-months-ago and we were driving into the city of angels to start a new life – full of apprehension about apartments and leasing cars and getting a new drivers license and setting up utility bills.

so we did what any pampered princess would do – instead of setting up the aero bed in an empty apartment with no furniture (still on the truck heading West) and no low soothing bedside lamps – we – (ahem) – checked into the Mondrian for the first night back.

and now here we are: 06:57AM, los angeles – in the apartment – with almost All details smoothly-sorted to build something quite fresh and new.

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fueled gently by lovely cups of coffee from new orleans.

so – we just looked online for some mention of the storm last night but old news is not good news in Hollywood – unless it has a cultural crisis attached – so while we could Not find anything about Last Night – we did find this delicious headline for a similar storm last year.

Screen shot 2013-03-22 at 7.18.44 AMisn’t that just the Most marvel(l)ous juxtaposition?

we love it here.

Life is unfolding slowly.

sometimes Not in the way we thought at all.

but deliciously.

and in its own sweet way.

which is perfectly fine with us.

for now we book our Next Trip – to NYC – May 1st – if you’re in Town too – to stay with the lovely B, J & sparky (thank you ever so much, chaps) while we open The First Picture Show (gulp) of our photographic Work. *blush*

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palm springs: pictures by us, words by e e cummings.

darlings

it’s beautiful here.

and so desirous of poetry – so here is our (imaginary) companion, mr. e e cummings, to help us illustrate the delicious feelings here present betwixt and between (worlds).

“I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.”
e. e. cummings

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“Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit”
e.e. cummings

Annabelle dropped her croissant onto the pavement in shock.

darlings

we’re off to the hot, dry, Modernist architecture-land of Palm Springs!

just for a day and a night and a half-day.

viewerso we woke up Super Early – had coffee and strawberries and watched the sunrise over the Hollywood Hills to the north – and settled down to write for almost an hour.

may we share a little more House on Church Row with you?

you are Most Kind.

Kelly paused. No one had ever said that to her before. In fact in her house, if you looked like you thought you had it going on, someone would smack you down and say, “Who do you think you are?” and that would be the end of it. She liked what Marion just said. She liked it a lot. She nodded, like she heard that all the time. Marion knew she didn’t but that was ok. She understood. She ran down the stairs and out into the day.

Marion straightened up the bed and heard the front door close as Kelly left. Then she remembered what Annabelle had said about this being her mother’s robe. She picked it up and then something caught in her chest. She dropped it on the chair. She didn’t like the feeling she got from the robe. A troubled soul had worn that. The paintings on the wall were beautiful but full of yearning and sadness. Marion walked slowly downstairs. Her next-door neighbor had quite a story, she could feel it and it was all starting to make sense. Was that why she had been sent to England?

Annabelle was standing awkwardly in the hallway, carrying her coat. “Ready for breakfast?” said Marion, kindly.

“But you’re still in your PJs,” said Annabelle.

Marion grabbed her beautiful camel coat from the hooks in the hall and belted it up tightly, scooping up her hair into a high ponytail and checking last night’s mascara would get her through breakfast.

“Oh honey,” smiled Marion, “this is Hampstead. Half of the women here have daywear that looks like pajamas.”

“You have a point,” smiled Annabelle, shyly. She felt quite pink cheeked at being called honey.

They walked off down the street and the wind started blowing.

“The weather is certainly drawing in,” said Annabelle. Marion felt in her pocket and found her soft cashmere hat. She offered it to Annabelle.

“That’s so soft!” said Annabelle, shaking her head. She felt strange wanting to wear Marion’s hat. It hung off her hand, she did not know what to do with it.

“It’s cashmere. Just put it on.”

Annabelle did and felt instantly glamorous. “I’ve never felt anything as beautiful as this,” she breathed.

“You’ve probably never spent such a stupid amount of money on a hat.”

“I take the children’s old hats.”

Marion didn’t answer. She already knew Annabelle had no concept of treating herself well. Annabelle felt irritated by her silence.

“Are you sleeping with your secretary?” she blurted out, without thinking.

Marion didn’t look at her.

“I see.”

“No you don’t.”

Annabelle panicked. “Perhaps I should go home.”

“I wish you’d quit being so uptight.”

They had just arrived outside Louis Patisserie. Lydia was putting a sign up in the window. She waved cheerily at them, unable to hide her glee at Annabelle wearing a gorgeous cashmere hat at a rakish angle. It was not a hat that one usually saw in Hampstead. It was clearly Parisian. And it was obviously Marion’s.

“Saved by the dark side,” grinned Marion.

Lydia looked between the two of them. The tension between Annabelle and Marion amused her – she did a very non-priestess like chuckle. “I only use my powers for good, Marion.” She paused, looking directly at Marion, “How about you?”

Marion narrowed her eyes and scanned Lydia for clues. Oh, really? This was not just an act? Lydia felt something happening in the air. “What on earth are you doing?” Marion did not answer. She felt pale and exhausted and like she better go and lie down.

“Can we take a raincheck?” she said, suddenly to Annabelle.

“Are you ok?” said Annabelle, worried, taking off the hat, offering it to her worriedly.

“Keep the hat, it’s a gift.” Marion turned sharply and headed back down Church Row. This was not good, not good at all. She broke into a run and her camel coat flew open but she did not care. She ran all the way back to the house and grabbed her keys from the coat pocket. They must have dropped out when she ran. Damn! She did not know what to do. She had been busted. Lydia knew who she was – or thought she did.

At that moment, Simon emerged from the house next door. He was looking for his wife. He saw the glamorous blonde American in her PJs frantically searching for something on the ground. He saw her keys a little way by the lamppost and went over.

“Are these what you’re looking for?” he asked, trying to be all British and bonhomie even though he was late for the office and his wife was missing.

Marion swirled around and nearly bumped her head on Simon’s chest. “Jeez, you’re a tall glass of water, I didn’t know you people came in Tall.”

Simon was not sure of her grammar. It must be American syntax. But he guessed it was a compliment. He went a little pink-cheeked and Marion turned on her charm. This was the husband, she remembered seeing him through the French windows. He was lovely. Great energy. Slightly diffident, had no idea who he was, but nice. A nice man – definitely a good man – a kind man. “So we meet at last,” she said, holding out her hand, not caring that her pajamas were on full display beneath her coat and her ponytail had come free, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

Simon did a little bow and held up her keys, “Allow me?” he said, walking up to Marion’s doorway and putting the key in the lock. Marion was amused – he was like Cary Grant, for god’s sake. No wonder Annabelle married him. She walked into her house as he held the door open and then decided to be wicked. She put her hand on his chest and cocked her head into the hallway.

“The least I can do is offer you coffee,” she grinned. Simon was speechless. A gorgeous American who looked like Grace Kelly was inviting him into the house next door – which he had always been curious to see – and was offering him coffee. For a moment he felt bold and alive with a devil-may-care joie de vivre and a sense of excitement and deeply and wantonly free.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, sprightly, and followed her into the house.

Lydia and Annabelle were walking back down Church Row, nibbling croissants from out of waxed paper bags and talking intently. Lydia looked up from her delicate French pastry and said, “Isn’t that your husband going into Marion’s house?”

Annabelle dropped her croissant onto the pavement in shock.

see you later darlings!

we’ll check in from Palm Springs.

off to drive and sing loudly to mid-80s pop Tunes in the trusty silver steed Prius as we Drive East.

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hello, los angeles. #weareback

darlings

we had Quite intended to go Directly from Palm Springs to our new apartment in Los Angeles (and Greg had so kindly prepped a care package and a blow-up mattress and linens and Everything so we can camp there for a bit.)

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there was a setting-off-from-Palm-Springs at a Reasonable Hour and then horribly delayed by a very bad accident (no! not involving us, thank the gods) which held up the Traffic back MILES AND FOR HOURS and we gave a pause and a deep almost sob-like gaze as the cars snaked past the accident scene for we are sure no one survived it – there were six firemen standing seemingly helplessly by the overturned car and if there’s one thing you don’t want firemen to look; it’s helpless. 
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(respectful pause).

safe to say we took a Long Time getting into Los Angeles and kept remembering things we would need to buy to camp out there at the new apartment (while our stuff is in a Truck heading West for the next 7 – 10 days, depending on whether it goes via Chicago or Texas or SF with flowers in its hair).

and (to share honestly with you as we do like to) we are Not really quite well enough to have Done That Drive (we can be awfully willful tis true) and so there were Tears and angst and – oh gods – there’s no way to say it without seeming like a Total Princess.

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we called the Mondrian and we’re here.

*blush*

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quick last minute Travel(l)er’s tip.

most (pretty expensive) hotels have a room that is designed (Very Cleverly) for people with disabilities but they can’t rent it out unless they have someone who will properly appreciate it – which is either someone for whom it has been Designed OR someone clever like us who says “have you rented it out and if not, is there a special Rate” (because there always is….)OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

so here we are – with a cup of tea and a fruit plate (welcome back to L.A, darlings) – and a STUNNING view over the twinkling lights of the city. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAit took us a while to find the television (this being a Starck designed hotel and all) but we Thought the Giant Mirror contained something so we kept looking for a button or a switch and finally made it work.

not that we’re going to Watch it because with a view like this, one might better spend one’s time gazing upon it and feeling grateful and nibbling on a piece of pineapple, sipping tea and generally getting awfully moist around the eyes because we’re home.

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gosh.

now. it. begins.

 

the saturated hues of palm springs.

darlings

just a quick note before we Dash out to Dinner (yes, we Are feeling so much better, thank you for asking).

the most remarkable aspect of Life in Palm Springs are the vivid hues.

we spent a brief period of our journalist-life on the Fashion Desk (in London) where we learned to write “copy” that sung.

these colo(u)rs really POP!

and so forth.

we also learned about “flippy skirts” but that phrase has not come in useful before or since, to be honest, as you might imagine.

but these colo(u)rs Really Do Pop!

we just had to share a few pictures with you…..

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we are still swathed in black ;-)

you can take the virtual character out of London (and, most recently, New York), but you can’t take London out of the girl.

no matter how brightly hued the surroundings.

although we are feeling very POP! ourselves as a result.

 

pausing in palm springs.

yes, darlings

– it IS beautiful here. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

we’ve realized why california means so much to us. 

it’s the essential mystery of living With The Elements, you see. 

Nature (we hesitate to prescribe a gender for tis mysterious and strange and sort of Above all That) is in charge.

the underlying (and never spoken about it) threat of earthquakes; the mountains, the dawn over the mountains, the sunset over the embedded low lying houses open to the welcoming warmth of day and cool breezes at night in the valley, the quiet hush of everything being as it is and as it will be.

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which is Awfully comforting and ever-present and take-your-time and all this will surpass and survive and there’s no rush. 

slow. down. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

the crushed raspberry swirled with vanilla creme sunsets are a pause and a breathtaking – literally – bout de souffle – sight. 

one might slip into Keats and deep reverie when facing a sunset like this. 

O that our dreamings all, of sleep or wake,
Would all their colours from the sunset take:
From something of material sublime,
Rather than shadow our own soul’s day-time
In the dark void of night.

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and this is the perfect place to pause and let whatever is next emerge. 

but not for long for we have lived in new york for (almost) seven years and we adore action and change and adventure and the pulse quickening and Plans.
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and plans must be made – whether they are the right plans or not – who knows – but action begets action and one can always change course……….when out on the ocean a very slight change to the tiller will completely alter the view of the horizon and the eventual sight of land.
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our health improves daily (thank you for your lovely comments) and we say Nothing when we hear that others are falling into the Flu for as you know, it was Horrid and we find it Not Helpful to panic others. 

however the coughing is quite disgusting. 

an almost whooping cough (very Emily Bronte but she did not have the benefit of a decongestant product) and Exhausting and Lingering (and we know it must be very irritating to hear…….we do apologize). 

imagine the inside of honeycomb – the sticky bit – mixed with candy floss (what Is that called in american? the pink spun sugar one has just before the veryfastandexcitingridesattheFair?) – squished and melded together and settling over one’s chest cavity (inside) and now the cough is trying to dislodge it. 

every. six. minutes.
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in the meantime, we rest. 

and watch the sunlight kisses on pale lemon/sandy hued paint. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

we sleep for Hours each night – and take a disco nap (and extended 12-inch-dance-record-of-a-nap or more in reality) – and then Lounge about in front of the (vast) television to catch up on popular culture (for as you know, we do not own a TV – and we can see why we made a decision to quit it many years ago – we would get Nothing Done – even the advertisements are Hypnotic, darlings – especially the ones for Target with all those white shiny paint and singular bold hued products – tres Sixties.)viewer-1

there are many cat naps (with an actual cat). viewerand delicious supper conversations with healing chicken soup (made from Scratch! very california slow food yumminess).

but the outside world calls…………….

it is almost time to hire a car to embark upon the drive into Los Angeles.

are you ready to join us?

it’ll be such fun.

less of a triumphant return than a sneaking into town via the mountain route – through pasadena, perhaps (we’re into the Ps right now) and smiling ever-so-broadly and brilliantly and there will be singing.

oh yes.

and you probably know what we’ll be singing first. 

turn it up.

oh yes.

that’s a lovely shoulder shimmy.

one more day to recover and then it’s time to hit the road.

or not Hit it.

but softly stroke it and whisper that we’re come home.