Tuesday, 1 March 2011


If I was writing a scene from a romantic comedy right now, which in fact I am trying to do but it's not happening, today's 'action' would be the all is lost moment when the hero opens her cupboards and everything falls out on top of her (stabbed in the head by her own stiletto not being the way I was planning to die...).  It's the point in When Harry Met Sally when Sally drags a Christmas tree home all alone; did I mention the boxes I have been single-handedly carrying up and down four flights of stairs for hours on end (God's irony:  it gives you a great arse...)?

But rather than share with you the skeletons I have found in my closet, today I'll just gift you this little something that I cut together after I saw Murakami at Versallies.  The 'camera work' (ha, don't give it delusions of grandeur, walking around will suffice) is real shaky but at least you'll get a flavour of something Parisian to amuse you this evening. 

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