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put off driving to Maishofen until tomorrow; at some point yesterday evening between the pasta and the water melon desert i decided i was just too tired to pack (and preferably not forget anything essential), tidy up two flats, water the flowers etc, etc, etc and still get up early the next day to escape the worst of the heat.

(i'll try to get a very early start tomorrow, though, they're expecting temperatures up to 34C, and for one thing i don't really fancy being cooked in the car, for another i'm kind of paranoid about driving on motorways in such a heat. we've had an accident with a tyre burst, complete with the car turning over and everything, when i was a child and the same happened to my sister a few years ago. no damage in either case except that both cars were totaled, but still... )


was watching 'Mountains of the Moon' yesterday while doing the ironing, which i found quite intriguing in parts (the movie, not the ironing, obviously). despite putting maybe more emphasis on the differences in character and aims between the two men (Speke the ambitious, self centered imperialist, Burton the open minded explorer and scholar) than is historically accurate, the movie never resorts to black and white painting, but is content to simply tell the story of the complex and unlikely (occasionally uneasy) bond between the two men, that was possible under the extreme conditions of their journey, but could not survive in a 'civilised' environment with its social norms and restrictions.

despite the movies intentions, to me Burton's character fell a bit flat for the most part, maybe because he's so obviously the 'good guy'. Speke i found more interesting, even while he's not portrayed as a likable character at all; arrogant, emotional, rash, neither very intellectual nor given to introspection, equally quick to believe the worst of Burton (especially when it suits his ambition) as to rush into what must have appeared to him the only solution when he found he'd misjudged the situation and betrayed someone who still considered him a friend. (the movie rather unequivocally suggests his death was suicide.)

what i loved was the final scene, where this sculptor comes to Burton with the still fresh death mask he's made for the bust ordered by Speke's family and and asks him if it resembles the living man, and Burton brushes aside the concerns of his wife trying to protect him, and without any hesitation at all reworks the still wet clay into the face he remembers. emotional and restrained at once, very touching.


on a side note, i hope Trent has some kind of hit counter installed on the pages and is curently laughing his ass off at the number of people obsessively checking and rechecking, staring at pages by degrees turning to black or white respectively. then at least someone would get some amusement out of this...


:: pries herself off the computer in order to get some cleaning & packing done ::


eta: memory flashback. i almost never remember dreams when i wake up, but bits & pieces tend to come back while sipping coffee, showering, brushing my teeth...

weird dream. kind of nightmarish, but not. sort of self revelation. the demon (?) was part of myself, talking to me, trying to tell me something important. (so i'm dreaming Clive Barker style now. :: cough ::) who was the woman i was explaining this to, trying to convince her? i knew her in the dream, but can't remember. a* was there too, i was kind of trying to mend our friendship, or at least talk about what happened, but i don't think much came off it.. don't remember.

boats? some kind of channel?


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March 2013

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