Roses and a present from Boston, Happy Birthday this month, Donna

I brought Donna to breakfast in a small coffee shop for omlettes this morning. Yesterday I combined the romantic with the specific, or practical, by bringing her home a cup from a church. The church is one of, if not the, oldest in the United States, built before The Old North Church, in Boston, and like the Old North is open to the public during the week as a historical church when services are not being held. If I'm not mistaken it was one that Oliver Wendell Holmes much later attended. She said, " I call them kaliedescope roses". This time, rather than one red rose, I gave her a dozen of two-color white-red roses. There were English roses with two shades of green, but I thought to keep the red.

Love on the Thirteenth, Thirteen and A Kino for Valentine's Day

Donna was taking a shower while I was watching a Universal Sherlock Holmes, so I downloaded-uploaded two mysteries made by Monogram during the thrities. What was spectacular was that I had an errand to run an thought that she was possibly headed for a nap, so decided that if we were planning to go out to dinner, which we postponed unitll tonight, then I would quitely make love during the afternoon. While waiting for the Valentine's day party I noticed that while we were making love, there was a mass downstairs for Ash Wednesday- I was just something that occurred to me that our time together was approximately in the afternoon and then we had to dress for dinner. It wasn't significant that we made love during Mass, because we only later realized that we were on top of it, but I just thought it was something curious.
There was a box of Valentine's day candy from a movie that she had asked to go to( I had wanted to see Anna Karenina while she had wanted to so Breaking Dawn- so we saw both) and some flowers in that the last rose I brought her was still in the vase, so we just added a couple new ones. And there was a new stuffed animal to go with the one she got last year.
 After dinner tonight she bought a DVD, and then went to a second store and she gave me a Kino silent film as part of our Valentine's Day cards. I was in fact The Haunted Castle directed by F. W. Murnau and I mentioned that I write about Sjostrom and Christensen on the internet, so the film of course was mentioned on my page (Sjostrom, Christensen, Murnau are, Lubitsch I rarely mention).
She went shopping for a blouse that I really haven't seen on her yet.

The hawk returned to his perch nearby after the blizzard, so that can be worked into a poem.

Early Morning in Gloucester Harbor

Shadowland

I'm listening to the CBS Radio Mystery Theater while I type, often I listen to The Inner Sanctum, or shows like it like The Sealed Book, The Hermits Cave or The Weird Circle, Tonight its The Clairvoyant, originally broadcast in 1976. They happenned to have just quoted Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, also a Cambridge Resident.

I found a magazine entitled Shadowland which was an art magazine from the 1920's that was on the periphery of Silent Film. It happenned to have a painting reproduced entitled Early Morning Gloucester Harbor. Please try the above link, the magazine is from about when Hammond Castle was built.

I brought Donna home a rose and brought her to dinner Friday before shopping at Macy's. She offerred to go to the bookstore with me because I remembered they had a copy of one film unavailable anywhere else. When we got there someone had already purchased it. The important thing was that she had been housebound for a week and when we finally went out she offered to go to the bookstore, even though my film was no longer there. A signed copy of a biography was there with a letter from the author to the previous owner, but it was near closing time, so I left after not finding the film. She was looking at a an expensive blouse and I found her an almost duplicate one for half of what the other cost, same designer but one had buttons, one was on sale.

Scott Lord: Sherlock Holmes- The Woman In Green (Roy William Neal)

I've regained the ability to download. I was listening to a radio program entitled The Murder Clinic from the mid-1940's that featured a story from one of my favories detectives, H.M., Sir Henry Merrivale from the novels of John Dickson Carr while this was going into the computer.

I happen to carry a 1938 Basil Rathbone Players cigarette card in my wallet.

Donna again prayed in an empty Marsh Chapel

I told her today, "That's the type of poet you are." We happenned to be on our way to dinner and on Comm Ave there was a street corner memorial to a deceased student-young person and she asked if she could stop and read the page that was there. I mentioned that she was that type of writer and she was more than welcome to read it. Apparently someone had had a fatal accident and was remembered by their peers. We were walking and she stopped into Marsh Chapel to pray, which she always does if we are out whenever there is an open church. I really wasn't thinking of a poem this time, or a theme and later i told her that although we saw Ellie Wiesel speak at the University, of which I'm still very appreciative, there didn't seem to be that many lectures open to the public considering the size of the University and how near to Boston it really is- shouldn't there really be one a week in that its one of the only places where it can take place. (There are lectures in aesthetics open to the public, but I don't think it would harm George Santanyana to have a couple more. And in regard to film- its only a movie projector) She asked why I hadn't been blogging recently. I took her to dinner the other night near the Longefellow House- and we made love untill late- and I broke my recorded on the bench press again, which is now 250lbs (I still weigh 132 at 50 years old, still a size 32 dungaree), and brushed up on some of the other weightlifting- so I should have been blogging, but I've been immersed in Danish Silent Film and have been reading in order to revise writing- so I was expanding my webpages. But then again last night was astonishing. During the middle of the night she all of a sudden asked if I needed a blanket and covered me with a soft spoken tone. Something that small-that significant; my thought were just, "You were just nice to me." and then I tried to avoid the cliches, "That was worth alot" and "That meant alot." But after all this living together, dating while living together, seeing each other while living together, she just that one time was nice to me. Then and there, no else but her. She very simply put a blanket one me during the middle of the night. That's all, which brings all of my sincerity as a poet in to play, all the self honesty there is to poetry into play. I've been waiting to blog that she gave me gloves and socks for Christmas, actually I write on film history on the internet and she added a new video player to the bedroom during the middle of her shuttling back and forth from Macy's shopping for fashion, and there it was- someone covering me with a blanket at that hour.

Donna and I went to Anna Karenina on Christmas Day

We missed a midnight mass last night because it was cold and then a morning church breakfast because I had been awake a six and it seemed like there was going to be snow on Christmas morning; but we did attend a six o'clock Christmas mass (it's cool- I don't recieve the Eucharist). We made it to see the Tom Stoppard version of Anna Karenina Christmas night after promising ourselves we would- we were going to see the film weeks ago, but she wanted to see Breaking Dawn first.
We're saving some presents to each other for after Christmas; I got her a nightgown during the beginning of the month and we've been adding things to our shopping since then.
The film is sumptuous- and there's a little theatrical thing where it seems to be all interior shots and the exteriors are represented as only occurring on stage, meaning Russian society is in fact a facade of painted backdrops where reality happens behind the doors of private affairs- the camerwork is good where symbolic shots of the train and a theater fan are swished panned, rather than accelerating the montage in a classic way, the camera pivots to represent speed and urgency.
The plot is emotion and is depicted as emotion in its love scenes and thematic threading.