This is an illustration by Andre Carrilho in this week’s New Yorker magazine and I think it is brilliant. It’s for 5-page article about the work of the French poet Arthur Rimbaud, who wrote astonishing poetry from the age of 16 until the age of 20, when he renounced the arts all together and went into the import-export business, made a bundle, and died of cancer at age 37. This illustration shows Rimbaud trimming his coif , snipping off locks of hair that end in fanciful French words. It’s the perfect visual representation of how Rimbaud “cut short” his own literary growth — symbolic, but it’s funny, too. It made me want to read the article and believe me, I have very, very little interest in Rimbaud.
One day, I hope I’m good enough to illustrate this well. Congratulations, Andre Carrilho, for a great picture. (By the way, the article is actually worth reading, if you want to check it out in the Aug. 29 issue.)
Here’s another picture that makes me happy:
This is from The Bedford Bulletin (Serving All of Bedford City & County Since 1857), which I picked up when I was in Virginia last Summer. This is a front page story about how a local family-owned farm equipment business is closing its doors after 63 years in business due to the economy and competition from WalMart. Above are the sons of the business’s founder, Barry and Carl Saunders, with their trusted employee Randall Abbott. AND HIS CAT.
The cat’s name is Bullett.
Here’s another picture that makes me happy, that I found by accident on the interwebs. I forget what I was looking for — something about Argentina? Tap shoes? A recipe for vichyssoise? Whatever it was, this was a total surprise:
I am crazy jealous. Because for this little person, his kitty cat really is a domesticated tiger. Why can’t we breed 100-lb tabbies for us poor smallness-challenged folks???
I was driving home from work just this past Thursday and I noticed something that I’ve completely overlooked for the past 28 weeks that I’ve been driving down this road:
It’s a front walk way with an alle of sunflowers. I actually did a fast U-turn and pulled my car over to the side of the road, jumped out and snapped a few shots of this in a light rain (which is why it’s a bit blurry). I had to get this pic because I couldn’t be sure these fleurs would be in-tact the next time I saw them.
Because the next time I see them, it will be Apres Irene.
Because this is how Hurricane Irene looks (for now) on Long Island:
And yes, the forecast of a few days of pelting, pounding, historic, and mood-defining/all-encompassing RAIN makes me happy!
Grab the cats, get the tea kettle ready, line up the un-read books; roll out the scone dough, hop into the comfy jammies, make sure there’s enough champagne to see you through; cue up the Sinatra records, light a few candles, decide which dance you’re going to perform when you dash out to get a drenching!
Batten down the hatches! Raise high the roof beams! Kick up your heels!
As my Cajun friends say when there’s a hurricane in the neighborhood:
Let the Good Times Roll!
Have fun this weekend, everyone — stay safe, keep your kitties dry, and if there’s a picture that makes you happy send it to me at vivianswift at yahoo dot com and we’ll make a gallery of treasured moments.
See you Monday!