March 27, 2010

Days slip away in the journal, but that it because I was seized with a fit of poetry unparalleled since I sat in the woods writing The Glacier’s Daughters, and maybe with the same vehicle: the adoption of a flexible and accommodating form.

Replanted the leaning lilac. Its swelling green buds suggest the operation was a success.

Saw Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, and thought it very beautiful– except for a real-world envoi which seems to involve Alice (who is given Charles Kingsley for a father–how many people got that?) in the British China trade– one of the blackest evils of colonialism.

Some inconclusive minutes in the studio; hard labor in the garden, mostly trying to fill the ravine left by the plumbers. The vine gets my vote for the most tenacious item in Flora’s armory. Planted a big lilac to replace the one I destroyed (though it has leaves coming anew from the sides of its stalks), creeping phlox, and another ground cover I forget the name of, but which promises flowers of scarlet.

Returned to the studio in the evening. DMcD is afraid of me. I painted in egg tempera. It went well, and I counted the day, finally, as not wasted, in that regard. Watched Cocteau’s The Testament of Orpheus. It was wonderful. It featured Picasso, Yul Brynner, Jean Marais. I wonder if everyone notices how much fun Cocteau is having.