The grey stripped asphalt of the lonely country road outside his home would soon bring mourners.
It was the coldest winter in over fifty years. Could he remember being that cold?
Andrew Wyeth’s Christmas Morning
It’s with great pleasure that I announce coldspace, my homage to Andrew Wyeth written in a quasi-stream-of-consciousness fit of inspiration the day his death was announced in January of 2009, has found a home on The Eunoia Review.
Reader beware, the story contains some indulgent run-on sentences and is a bit more experimental than my usual fare.
Who knew that all these years later it would be published…and that THIS winter of 2014 would supplant those winters of Wyeth as the coldest in memory?
The Eunoia Review is an online literary journal committed to sharing the fruits of beautiful thinking. Publishing eclectic and unique works daily, it has become the home for hundreds of writers over the years and a regular destination for readers looking for those entrancing “Buddhist catnaps” of Kurt Vonnegut lore.
A silent film star of romantic adventures named George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) refuses to ride the wave of the future at the onset of talkies and instead watches his career and marriage disintegrate while an ingenue he helped land her first role named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) becomes the toast of Hollywood.
Michael Hazanavicius’ The Artist is a film that never allows you to forget that you are watching a film. From the opening moment where we are in a film within a film to the closing dance number, The Artist is self-aware and as in love with itself as George Valentin is with his stardom. It’s also a lovingly mounted and pure homage to silent films…but it’s the type of silent film it aims to be that is the major problem and prevents it from rising above charming gimmick status. Continue reading →