logsylou.co.uk » literature

oh if you find the time please come and stay awhile in my beautiful neighbourhood

logsylou — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 13:06:03 +0000

Thought I’d better squeeze in a post before it’s bloody February. Anyone else completely failed on the resolution front? I’ve been anything but an active blogger (and anything but a detoxer/money-saver). Fresh start in February, yeah? I’ve probably been too busy self-indulgently ~~eating nachos~~ reading books; Hunter S Thompson’s The Rum Diary (amazing – I could’ve quoted something from every page) and Philip Roth’s Nemesis (so sad, lots of commas). We also watched the film adaptation of The Rum Diary – not even close to the brilliance of the book, but Johnny Depp so it’ll do. Must go and attend to those resolutions. See you in Feb, kids!

i was feeling better now, warm and sleepy and absolutely free.

logsylou — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 09:51:07 +0000

…With the palms zipping past and the big sun burning down on the road ahead, I had a flash of something I hadn’t felt since my first months in Europe – a mixture of ignorance and a loose, ‘what the hell’ kind of confidence that comes on a man when the wind picks up and he begins to move in a hard straight line toward an unknown horizon.

the sun blazes into view, spinning bright

logsylou — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 22:22:41 +0000

…and metallic against your eyeballs, ionizing the water’s surface so you can’t see a bit of pollution or crud underneath. It looks mystical, biblical. It raises a lump in your throat.

I haven’t had a day off in 18 days. And even that day, 19 days ago, didn’t really count as a day off, because I wasn’t feeling well for one reason or another. ~~Nothing to do with Jack Daniels~~. And I’ve got two more juicy days of work ahead of me. But it’s not all that bad because I saw my name in print for the first time today. Nice. But like I say, I’ve got a manic couple of days ahead, so I probably won’t be around here much. Follow me on twitter, though. No doubt I’ll have some right-wing not-right to moan about on there. Anyway, I’m off to bed to finish my book. More on that when I’m done – I just thought I’d better check in and ask you all to stick around. I’ll be right back!

she lay down, curled on her side in the grass

logsylou — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 22:32:06 +0000

…as if she were shielding the damaged part of herself, or trying to contain the pain that issued from it. Every turn of her thoughts increased her sense of horror, her belief that she couldnt recover, had no more resources to draw on. Why was this worse than the other times? But it was.

if i should die, think only this of me:

logsylou — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 22:29:34 +0000

That there’s some corner of a foreign field/ That is forever England. There shall be/ in that rich earth, a richer dust concealed;/ A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware/ Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam/ A body of England’s, breathing English air,/ Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,/ A pulse in the eternal mind, no less/ Gives somewhere back the thoughts that by England given;/ Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;/ And laughter learnt of friends; and gentleness/ In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

we watched august walk over to the window

logsylou — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 12:23:08 +0000

…put her hands on the countertop, and gaze out at the sky. It was aquamarine and shiny as taffeta. You had the feeling she was making a big decision.

not that he talked a lot – kienschaper wasn’t a great talker.

logsylou — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 09:58:07 +0000

But when he took her to his apiary and told her about the life of bees, which were creatures he loved with a passion, when he walked with her through the fields in the evening and showed her how untidily a certain field was sown and with how little effort it could be made far more productive, when Kienschaper helped a cow to calve or, unasked, righted a toppled fence, when he sat at the organ and improvised for the two of them, when everywhere he went looked tidy and at peace for his having been there – then that did more than any words could do for Eva’s contentment. It was a life gently inclined toward its end, peaceful and bringing peace in a time full of hatred, blood and tears.

i will collect them all for you in butterfly jars

logsylou — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 16:00:42 +0000

I have a new idea for the blog. I know, it’s been a long time coming. It’s going to be weekly Sunday-ditty. I could’ve started it yesterday, but I felt the timing of such whimsy would be inappropriate. This Sunday it is, then. Bet you can’t wait!

So, other than coming up with fancy new blog ideas (don’t worry, there won’t be anything nearly as frightening as a change of scenery or anything!) I have been mostly reading. After my short, sharp fling with One Day, I ordered a few more books online (four, actually) and I’ve quickly demolished them all. That’s the problem with me – I’m an absolutist, especially when it comes to reading. I become addicted/infatuated/can’t-stop-til-I’ve-finished so easily. Sometimes, I wish I could just read a chapter or two a night, savour it like normal people do. But no; whoever said ‘it’s a real page-turner’, was surely thinking of me. But anyway, all this reading has inspired me, which can only be a good thing.

In other, final news, my Mum is like way ahead of the times. For my birthday last year she ordered me a little alphabet purse online. I use it to carry around a few essentials in my bag (I don’t like being bulked down with a full on make-up case). And as I walked past Urban Outfitters this morning, I spied the exact same ones through the window. Yeah, my Mum is so Urbz-Outz like that. Or rather, so ONE-YEAR-AHEAD like that. And also, remember the debate I once had about the letters American Apparel chose (or rather, deigned not to choose) for their alphabet t-shirts? Yep. Here too. Sorry, Frankie, this time F got the cut.

you had to translate his actions

logsylou — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 15:22:58 +0000

…for they were seldom accompanied by words; a disconnected, fractured space; a puzzle that made him phone me at three o’clock in the morning, asking me for the last piece border, so he could fill the sky.

who loves the rain, who cares that it makes flowers?

logsylou — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 09:35:46 +0000

Those of you who follow me on twitter will know that I’ve just speed-ordered (thanks, Amazon) and speed-read (couldn’t-put-it-down-obsessed) David Nicholls’ One Day. And also anyone who knows me will know that I’m a sucker for anything a bit Brit-flicky/rom-commy/mushy – so the book was right up my street. But on a serious note, I did think it was great; so easy to read, so addictive, very subtle in places, I laughed out loud a number of times and I also cried (sobbed), I love a good bit of 1990s social/historical context (in other words, a bit of Britpop), and the characters were entirely realised. And yes, I am going to watch the film; it won’t be as good as the book BLAH, but Jim Sturgess will make up for that in swathes, I’m sure. But yeah, read the book (and weep).

In other news, I bought some sunflowers a couple of days ago. They have DROOPED. Word has it that I shouldn’t have cut them, or that I should’ve cut them more so the vase could support them, or that I should’ve wired them (seriously – who would think of that?). But it’s nothing that a piece of string can’t sort out (if I had some string). For now though, I have droopy sunflowers (if it’s good enough for Vincent, it’s good enough for me). Oh, and we have cushions with buttons! I sewed buttons onto our massively dilapidated cushions, so they now have 16 out of 16 buttons as opposed to 2. Good.

Must dash to work. By the way, my London photos are being developed, so restaurant/cocktail reviews will be winging their way to you shortly. As for this photo, it’s tenuously linked by the fact that she’s got a flower on her hat. Can I get away with that?