have a heart

would you check out those beards? like kings of leon, before the bandwagon.

smokey angle shades, je vous aime!

I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days

I would love to be a director of photography. At the age of fifteen whilst watching Sofia Coppola's film adaption of Jeffrey Eugenides' The Virgin Suicides, I was so encapsulated by one particular shot of the Lisbon house; the light was captured so magnificently and since that point I have always sort of thought of it as a dream job, it is something I could really see myself being inspired by. Greig Fraser, director of photography on Bright Star seems to have done an amazing job, above are some of the shots he took throughout filming. Kudos Greig! (I'm sure my approval means a great deal) Quite paradoxically, in addition to war photography for which I expressed my ardour in an earlier post, I too adore and have been moved by photos of idyllic topography and so I love these shots by Greig even more on those grounds. We are now in the midst of autumn, undoubtedly my favourite season and also the best time for capturing some really good topographical photos. (Note to self, buy a decent camera!)

Ps. I should probably say at this point that I named my blog Bright Star after the Keats sonnet and not the film based on the relationship between Keats and Fanny Brawne. However, you can imagine my excitement at a film about Keats, starring Ben Whishaw who is without a doubt, my favourite actor. Infact, I think my first post may have been about Mr Whishaw himself. Anyway, enjoy the pictures and the film! Due for release November 11th I do believe. You can see le trailer at http://www.apple.com/trailers/independent/brightstar/

Love Charlotte

x

still saving!

ooh la la, laub.

ick!

I must admit, I'm not an Agyness Deyn devotee at the best of times but her new hair has me even less enthused. Standing next to Alexa Chung with that hair. Really?

Liebe Kruger!

The September issue of interview is seemingly even more savvy than per. Natalie Portman graces the cover in all of her quirky magnificence. I must admit that I have been quite the Portman admirer since 2005, the year in which she shaved off her hair for her role in V for Vendetta (I admire a woman who can carry off bald!) and so naturally, I was thrilled. In my excitement however, I didn't notice that there was also a Diane Kruger editorial so when I opened the magazine at home in anticipation of learning a few life lessons from Ms. Portman, I shrieked a little upon noticing that Kruger was too gracing the pages of Interview. Similarly, I have always admired Kruger's indubitable, comely beauty and the fact that she always appears so refined and classy. She comments to Blanks that she definitely wants to appear as someone who "has a certain class" and she more than succeeds in her endeavour. What shocked me was how bolshy she appeared. Her demure beauty is deceptive and her intolerance throughout the piece with Blanks' supposition that simply put, beautiful actresses must "play against their outer aspect" in order to be successful actresses, made for intriguing and intellingent repartee. Even the most zealous of feminists may have relished Kruger's comments. She has certainly defied one New York Times critic who remarked that Kruger was "too beautiful to play a role of any substance." In her latest project, Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds her character Bridget Von Hammersmark is portrayed with intelligence and intrigue whilst Kruger's "outer aspect" is undeterred, naturally.

Here lies one whose name was writ in water

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask
No-yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender taken breath,
And so live ever-or else swoon to death