I wasn't enamoured of Broad City after watching the first episode, but because a friend of mine was so partial to it, I gave it another try. Episodes 2 & 3 sealed the deal. Abbi and Ilana are hilarious, and I'm sucked in.
This web page has a great investigation of its title sequences and an interview with the illustrator, with some great video demonstrations.
I can’t help but always stop and take a pic of all yarn-y, craft-y, and design goodness I see in TV, movies, and unexpectedly on the interwebs. I’m a magpie! These are just some, not even all that have caught my eye lately! (P.S. Some are really bad pictures, sorry about that!) Also, I haven’t been watching any period dramas lately so the stuff is a bit more modern than dramatic!
Christopher Walken in "Mr. Fuzzy Pants:
Crochet Blankets in "While We're Young"
Watching "Mindhunter" at the library when the internet at home was out for a few weeks. I loved the location text titles for this show.
Stills of locations and items seen in "Wynonna Earp"
Pineapple Laundry Hamper on some show I was watching on ABC.
Ted Danson's Peacock Tie in "The Good Place"
Stills of some of the clothes from the trailer for "The Secret Scripture." Way too dramatic for me!
Hat from when calls the heart.
Hat #2 from "Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries"
Quilts from Ty's loft in "Heartland"
Liking Rosemary's clothes from When Calls the Heart
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in; and clear rills That for themselves a cooling covert make ‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms: And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead; All lovely tales that we have heard or read: An endless fountain of immortal drink, Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple’s self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That, whether there be shine or gloom o’ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, ’tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city’s din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I’ll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimmed and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end!
And now at once, adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.
No picture could quite capture the beauty of this poem, but here are some lovelies to try.
And, the trailer for Bright Star – Jane Campion’s film on Keats and Fanny, with its beautiful visuals which come close. (although the movie really missed the mark for me!)
