inky twilight and indigo dawn and a poem from mr. A.E

darlings

there was an inky twilight last night –

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When the unquiet hours depart
And far away their tumults cease,
Within the twilight of the heart
We bathe in peace, are stilled with peace.

The fire that slew us through the day
For angry deed or sin of sense
Now is the star and homeward ray
To us who bow in penitence.

We kiss the lips of bygone pain
And find a secret sweet in them:
The thorns once dripped with shadowy rain
Are bright upon each diadem.

Ceases the old pathetic strife,
The struggle with the scarlet sin:
The mad enchanted laugh of life
Tempts not the soul that sees within.

No riotous and fairy song
Allures the prodigals who bow
Within the home of law, and throng
Before the mystic Father now,

Where faces of the elder years,
High souls absolved from grief and sin,
Leaning from our ancestral spheres
Beckon the wounded spirit in.

George William Russell (‘A. E.’) 1867-1935

549ae2d0b4eb11e3a9a012b4cf9f5219_8and then – up again – before the sun – driving East into the indigo dawn – another day begins.

gosh.

that was Rather Profound.

well.

we can be.

may you (also) live in interesting times.

(adorable) *wink* to (hmmm, let’s see) #camera4

into the canyon, surrounded by the ghosts of Prohibition.

darlings

we had appointments near-the-beach several hours apart from each other yesterday, and, if you know Anything about Traffic in this part of the world (and you are clearly well-informed so probably *nodding* right about now with a sympathetic head-on-the-side-smile which we Do appreciate), it is (downright) Foolish to drive back and forth.

so we stayed.

and hid out in the canyon with a collection of essays by Ms. Marian Keyes (delightful) under the shady caress of a *saidvaguely* very nice set of trees.

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did you notice the sign “Uplifters Ranch”?

well.

There’s a story and no mistake.

The Los Angeles Times has much to say on the subject:

In a corner of Rustic Canyon below where Sunset Boulevard slices past the former estate of Will Rogers, the ranch is a lush, almost rural, residential sanctuary washed by spring fogs and cool ocean breezes.

Its centerpiece, the former clubhouse, with its shaded, plaza-like grounds, has been a park since 1953 when a wealthy socialite bought it from a Greek shipping tycoon and donated it to the city. The tycoon, who had bought the clubhouse from the Uplifters, had tried to operate a private racquet club there after World War II.

The war, growing debts and shifting social attitudes led to the club’s demise in 1947, closing the book on a playground of the privileged, where the right crowd could play polo with Walt Disney and Daryl F. Zanuck or swap yarns with Harold Lloyd and Busby Berkeley.

Today, the ranch remains a haven for writers, actors and others.

Aldous Huxley lived and wrote there for a time. Earl Warren spent his summers there. At different times, Meryl Streep and Wilt Chamberlain rented the same shingled cottage.

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it seems the clubhouse was a place of naughtiness.

during Prohibition.

we will gloss over what might have transpired there (but it probably involved a Toga Party or two – those were Very Big with the boys at our 2nd boarding school in the Upper VI) and it seems even Tarzan himself was often doing laps in the pool (still there, but drained for the *winter* season so we did not take a picture)

The boys played at the stables, flew kites on the polo field, patrolled the creek. And in the afternoons they lolled around the clubhouse pool, where Johnny Weismuller, a.k.a. Tarzan–who lived across the street at 2 Latimer–often swam.

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another resident of the surrounding leafy canyon was the Man from Oz himself, one lady, still living there, remembers this:

Her father, Lloyd Moultrie, was a lawyer whose clients included many of Hollywood’s early stars. Some were regular visitors to the family’s distinctive English-style cottage at 44 Haldeman Road. The first movie she ever saw, a silent version of “The Wizard of Oz,” was projected against a bedsheet in L. Frank Baum’s garage.

“I couldn’t have been more than 3, because I remember toddling up to the screen and trying to grab the little dog, Toto,” she said.

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you can just picture the Toga Parties can’t you?

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so here we sat.

and read for a long while.

while slowly eating a tangerine.

what’s that?

oh!

good point – it’s a public park now, managed by the splendid Parks and Rec people at the County. 

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and then we drove to the Pacific Ocean and stood for the sunset. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAand upon returning to teamgloria towers, we *whooped* with joy to find some Post from Abroad (Switzerland, actually – isn’t that glam?)

life really is delicious and Very engaging.

 

gosh, hello officer.

darlings

we got stopped at a US border control CHECKPOINT this evening!3e8b1a5e678a11e3985f0e47fb3a0096_8

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)

f85034e8673e11e394b412c5bc47fc98_8as well as just as the sun was about-to-set)c914b8da677e11e3912e0a67fd6ef8ef_8

l’heure bleu vraiment.

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and now we must s l e e p.

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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).

*winningsmiletocamera3*

to tea with the duke at el royale.

darlings

such a delightful treat.

our friend – whom we must only refer obliquely to as the duke – has moved into rooms-at-the-El-Royale!

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well – we *sighed* (prettily and deeply) upon hearing this – we could not Resist the invitation to tea while taking in the sunset (all 360-degrees of it, from the roof terrace) – over los angeles.

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as you may know, the El Royale has an illustrious history dating from 1927 (Clark Gable was a resident) and even the taps (faucets) are similar to those at Chateau Marmont for twas the same architect we are reliably informed.

and yes, we took the grown-up camera to capture it for You.

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all this – chandeliers, art deco faucets/taps, and sunset over the Hollywood Sign.

the duke is most happily in Residence now.

we did a little digging on the history.

apparently – according to this article in the Los Angeles Times – the famous neon sign was dark for many years due to the energy shortage in the 70s (not an easy time for many and very challenging in terms of fashion) and got switched on again as the money flowed into Town in the mid 80s.

also (our source here is again the L.A. Times):

There used to be a library where a fireplace glowed on chilly afternoons and a tea-and-reception room for the ladies to enjoy after an afternoon’s shopping.

in other sources we found that there were many Agents from CAA (like Mr. Huvane and Mr. Lourd) and moviestars (such as Ms. Uma Thurman) who moved in after the once-bright starlets and stage decorators from nearby Paramount, who had lived there since 1929 when it opened, had transitioned into other forms, glittering still, on the Sound Stage of beyond….

of course it is these people that we dreamed of as we drifted down the corridors under the chandeliers, past the service entrance (yes! each apartment had a separate service door so your Jeeves could slip into the kitchen quietly to make the coffee piping hot before rousing you from slumber in the boudoir beyond) and through the apartment door (a nice dark heavy wood).

people like, for instance, Virginia Fox, who appeared in silent pictures (with Mr. Buster Keaton), Mr. Clark Gable, Marian Nixon and the lovely Loretta Young.

couldn’t you just IMAGINE them all gathering over a soothing cup of cocoa on a winter’s night (or what passes for a winter’s night over on This Coast)?

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gosh!

we *knew* we’d seen that picture of the lovely Loretta Young (with Mr. David Niven and Mr. Cary Grant) before – that’s because we just bought a ticket to a Special Screening that’s coming up here in Los Angeles.

just in case it’s not showing near you – here’s the trailer (or non-trailer as they amusingly might call it these days).

*sighs*

isn’t that delicious?

we bet the lovely Loretta Young went home to her apartment in the El Royale after making the Bishop’s Wife and had a nice cup of tea and loosened her corsets and starting to read scripts that her agent had sent over by Messenger for her consideration.

wonder if the duke has a script or two lying around……it’s entirely possible.

living at the El Royale inspires one to be simply gloriously Hollywood you see.

hullo, england!

darlings

we are in ENGLAND (again)!

and we made our way from cape town to whitstable and it took 24 hours and so now we’re completely e x h a u s t e d and william has made us a Very Nice cup of decaf coffee (which is delicious) and we must pause and say thank you (not just for the coffee, but for having us to stay and joining us for a splendid Fish Supper) and now here we are.

it’s ever so Strange that everyone speaks English – and Rather Nice.

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a d r e a m y sunset.

don’t you adore a sunset, darlings?

wherever one is in the World a sunset is a fitting close to a lovely day. 

hello, oceanside

darlings

who-we-are-in-RL has a Very Important set of Business Meetings tomorrow about 100 miles south of where we reside and so she decided to leave Early and spend the night in Oceanside before we continue on the Journey in the morning.

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we had a delicious experience of yummy mexican food fine dining.


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according to the Very Helpful visitor’s guide:

San Diego’s North Shore, Oceanside is a classic California beach community with its warm sandy beaches, historic wooden pier and Cape Cod-style harbor village complete with unlimited water sports and recreation. Offering a quiet escape from the hustle and bustle, visitors still experience the casual spirit that made Southern California’s beach culture legendary.

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there were lots of friendly people to talk to which is always nice. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

people actually gather at the Ocean to watch the sun set (isn’t that b e a u t i f u l?)
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more from the Visitor’s guide:

With its year round sunny climate, and average temperature of 70 degrees, Oceanside’s weather has been rated by USA Today as the second most ideal climate in the United States, and the fifth most ideal weather in the world.*

hello?

who makes these decisions?

*FIFTH?

where are the Other Places?

this is paradise, people!

(sadly the clever search algorithm at USA Today could not illuminate us further – if you have the List – would you send it our way? Most Kind)

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we have a particular fondness for train tracks at twilight, especially one that has been here since the Railroad arrived in 1882.

*wistfullooktocamera*

don’t you wonder where this train track goes?

wonder no longer, darlingsOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAand don’t you just Adore a Pier?

if you’re curious about the history of Oceanside there’s more here.

we would stick around to tell you about the Pier and the cultural amusements therein but we must get down to some engaging cultural experiences (yes, there’s a TV here and we don’t have one at teamgloria towers).

*yawns*

goodnight from oceanside.

see you tomorrow.


btw, as the young people say, your skin looks glow-y – new cream? gosh – or are you in Love? both? blimey.

sunrise to sunset. #losangeles.

darlings

another hollywood-and-hectic day of Work (such a lovely word) so just a few photographs to show you how we saw both the Sunrise and the Sun As It Set yesterday.

isn’t that delicious?

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sunrise over the Hollywood hills (actually the flat bit – but still – lovely trees and splendid Palms)OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

at 5.40pm we took a break and popped over to see george, drink tea (english breakfast, a little milk, in a proper tea cup – so civilized) and nibble on a light brie with some dark luscious blackberries. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

admiring the cool evening twilight as it rolled in over the Hollywood hills (the actually hilly bits this time)OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

don’t you just Adore a teapot, cups and proper saucers?OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

and a sun setting over the hills……OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

lovely.

and then we drove back across town and got back to Work (most grateful) again.

so soothing for the soul, being here.

*smilinghappily*

setting the scene in donal bay….(aka #oceanPark California)

darlings

we went to interview someone for next week’s column in Los Angeles, I’m Yours, and after it was done (and fascinating and lovely an interview it was too) we decided it was going to be too crazy on the freeway (rush hour) so we took a different turning and went to watch the sunset on the beach before heading home……..and took a lot of pictures

mainly because we want You to have a Visual of this fictitious place we called DONAL BAY in the screenplay-being-turned-into-a-novel (in reality, it’s Ocean Park, California and yes, we used to live There)

ready to read?

it’s just a little bit tonight – but a few pictures too, so a cup of tea or something sweet might be nice, depending on your time zone/desire:

we’ll wait……….

*pauses*

you’re back – lovely – here we go.

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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 did not slow down and turn left just five minutes (in mellow traffic) as soon as you spot the pier on the ocean side.

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There are twinkle lights entwined between all the palm trees down Main Street, an Irish bar, 1940s era eggs and coffee breakfast place and 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.

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Late at night, strange mists of water can be seen at the intersection. As you get closer, you’ll see people in wet suits, just back from the beach, washing the sand off their cars in the outdoor hand car wash. They then gather at the Mexican place and sit at the counter to eat three dollar fish tacos and swig from lurid candy-colored soda bottles.

The homeless men and women in black shuffle into formation to sleep outside the old Carnegie Library, just down the street from the seafood restaurant with fishing nets above the door, a mermaid’s torso and the sound of live fiddle music floating out into the night air.

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If you turn left from the Ocean road and find yourself in Donal Bay, you will probably never want to leave.  Livy Brennan took that turning last year to see about an apartment share and knew she was here for good.

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The apartment was four blocks from the beach and part of a duplex owned by an entertainment attorney called John Mahoney. Several years earlier, John had been visiting a faded rock star client in Malibu who needed yet another divorce, and taken the Ocean road back towards Beverly Hills. He got lost, couldn’t find the I-10 freeway and ended up in Donal Bay. It was exactly the place he had been looking for. He sold his house in Hancock Park and bought the duplex as soon as he could, moving into the first floor apartment on the left and renting out the other units to various creative types who liked to surf.

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Livy Brennan did not surf. But she did love to sit at the water’s edge with her shoes in her hand, her jeans rolled up to mid calf and watch the sun slip behind the Ferris wheel on the pleasure Pier.

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She was so enchanted by the sunset that she did not see Calliope emerge from the waves.

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oh yes – we are Most Excited about writing this one.

bless you for reading along thus far……….more soon.

 

five photographs (ours) and a poem (from Sir. J. Betjeman)

darlings

we’re RUSHING out the door ever so soon – but wanted to leave you a moment of reverie  in the meantime – five photographs from the past day and a Poem that we read as the sun dipped behind the Palm Trees while sipping tea-with-lemon.

enjoy.

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A Subaltern’s Love Song

poem by John Betjeman

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament – you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father’s euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o’clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light’s in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing’s the light on your hair.

By roads “not adopted”, by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o’clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl’s hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I’m engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

 

sandy toes, surfers, seagulls and mellow yellow-ness.

darlings

a lovely day yesterday – all our tasks and meetings and then a delicious supper occasion took us to the Beach – sandy toes and surfers and the fragrance of salty air and the squeal of seagulls and mellow yellowness at the sunset sunk into the night behind vintage greek island lace

do you know the Donovan song? the pace of life down at the beach communities in southern california is very-mellow-yellow (sometimes).

Screen shot 2013-04-05 at 6.41.13 AM OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAthere were even a few mystical-moments (there are always a Few down by the beach you see) which made it an extra special and strangely comforting day.

magic is always a nice surprise, non?