Monday, December 29, 2014

L’heure bleue; Film


The French called this time of day “l’heure bleue.” To the English it was “the gloaming.” The very word “gloaming” reverberates, echoes—the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour—carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone.
— Joan Didion, Blue Nights 





















One source of inspiration that will never be lost or feel old for me is the sky. Vast and ever changing, the sky looks like a fresh shade of blue I have yet to experience each day. The stars won't always be out so when they are, you better appreciate the way they shine, for all we know they've already been obliviated. 

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