Greetings from Daniel Nester, one of your guest bloggers here for the week, writing to you from Albany, which I call, alternatively, Smalbany, Alcoholbany, Crawlbany, and my favorite, Banalbany. I have a couple things planned this week, and hopefully a couple things unplanned.
But for now, some highlights from your guest blogger's week, poetry-related and some just poetic:
First, er, discovery: Those new Kate Winslet photos in the new Vanity Fair. Now, I think Winslet is very talented--I think she deserved an Oscar for Little Children, for instance. And she is smart; her turn as a potty-mouthed nun on HBO's show Extras is another recent fave. But these new photos make me think of her in a whole new way; as Garth Algar puts it in Wayne's World, It makes me feel all funny inside, like when you climbed the rope in gym class.
The concept of the photo shoot tugs on my highbrow heartstrings: Winslet dresses up as Catherine Deneuve's bored housewife-turned-prostitute character in Luis Buñuel's 1967 film Belle de Jour. The only way to make this more sublime would be to dress Winslet up as Deneuve's character from Les Parapluies de Cherbourg (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg). Come to think of it, Vanity Fair should get on that.