erin

flax-golden tales: heart-shaped cage

heart-shaped cage

heart-shaped cage

Sting told me if I love somebody I should set them free.

I doubt Sting ever loved anyone with wings. If he did he might rethink such a stupid sentiment.

I suppose the point is to wait for your love to come back to you voluntarily.

I wonder if there’s a difference between setting something free and letting it go?

I probably did it wrong.

I should stop taking advice from my radio.

I worry that you’re lost.

I keep a heart-shaped cage unlocked for you, out on the street where it can easily be seen.

So if one day you return at least you’ll have a place to stay.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago

and another thing…

Hey, do you like books? Of course you do. Do you like free books? Me too! So you should swing by the wonderful & talented Cindy Pon‘s blog and maybe win fabulous UK editions of R.J. Anderson‘s books.

(Though truthfully I hope I win, because I’ve been wanting to read these and hey, free books!)

By erin, ago

several topics in one post

We went to closing night of Sleep No More on Sunday. I stayed away from the main plot this time, I think I only saw the Macbeths proper once or twice. I wandered through bits of Rebecca made more enchanting by having recently watched the Hitchcock film. Hecate was once again quite fond of my jewelry and this time she pulled me away for private storytime. I saw scenes I’d somehow managed to miss the first three times. It must have been virtually impossible to see everything, and I think that’s part of what made it so magical. I will miss it terribly. Thank You to Punchdrunk & the A.R.T. for such an incomparable experience that I was lucky enough to have four times over, though thank you only begins to encompass what I mean.

Remember how I said I was going to try to have a revised draft of the novel done by my return to Manderley? That was lies. I have a lot done, but it’s nowhere near finished draft proportions. I’ve given up on deadlines, as much as they make that lovely wooshing sound when they go by. Still typing away. Putting word after word and adjusting page after page and hopefully eventually I’ll reach the end.

I tried to come up with things to say about last week’s LOST premiere that weren’t spoilery or convoluted, but really it just boils down to three things:

  • They need to stop killing off the female characters.
  • The “I don’t understand” speech was the best delivery of any line on this show ever.
  • I really hope they can pull this entire conceit off.

Looking forward to seeing where they go from here. Still trying to get used to Tuesday being LOST day, too.

Still mostly all Revisionland, all the time around here. We escaped the snow this weekend but apparently it’s getting back at us tomorrow. Will be hibernating.

By erin, ago

flax-golden tales: prelude to the hunt

prelude to the hunt

prelude to the hunt

The jewellery is a distraction. Distraction is a key element of the prelude to the hunt.

They never realize that. Shiny objects are highly effective.

Perhaps some buried instinct tells them to run. To hide. But instinct and wisdom are always lost under infatuation and sparkle.

They don’t even notice the arrow until after it leaves its bow. Flying swift and true and impossibly fast.

By then it is far too late.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago

omglost!!!

I have been trying all day to come up with coherent things to say about LOST.

I keep ending up with OMGLOST!!!

And then I check the time to see how many hours are left until the S6 premiere. (Just under five & counting.)

We finished our epic re-watch over the weekend. Five seasons in just about two months. LOST really does benefit from being watched in quick succession, rather than being drawn out week-to-week. You remember more, for one thing, even though there were still points when the boy and I couldn’t recall details from episodes we’d watched a week or two before. It’s just so epic. It’s hard to believe this is the beginning of the end.

I love this show to pieces. I just do. I could go on about the acting or the writing or the mythology but I’m beyond explaining it without flailing like a fangirl. As much as I’d like to post something thoughtful or meaningful, OMGLOST!!! pretty much covers it.

So I have my numbers shirt on and I’m making Pina Coladas later and I greatly regret that I only just saw this Dharma brand party pack. Might have to pick that up for the finale.

And y’all have probably seen these around the wilds of the internet already, but I love them so you can see them here again: LOST posters by Ty Mattson. I think this one is my favorite, but it’s so hard to choose.

Lost-Poster-07

By erin, ago

flax-golden tales: letters & measures

lettersandmeasures

letters & measures

When they finally got inside the house, everything was in jars and nothing was labeled. Though it is difficult to say whether or not labels would have been any help. What does one label a jar full of rulers? The jar is clear glass, the contents are as plain as day. Would a label really bring all that much clarity as to why, precisely, those rulers were put in that particular jar?

Thousands of jars, meticulously organized in an indeterminable, label-less system. It must have taken years.

Those charged with dividing the contents were at a loss.

After much debate, it seemed easier to leave things in their respective jars.

Everything in its proper place.

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

By erin, ago