"For here am I sitting in a tin can..."

I very rarely just post linked content, but really, how cool is this?

- Sid 

(And we all know who Chris Hadfield is? Yes? Please? Everyone?)

A State of Mind, Part II: Tears in Rain.

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe...huh...attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion...I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those...moments...will be lost in time, like tears... in... rain.

Time... to die...

Roy Batty, Blade Runner

On my way back to the Austin Hilton after my bookstore trip, I passed a little South Congress store call Parts and Labour, specializing in clothing by Texas designers, which incorporated a little shop called Shark Attack, selling posters and prints.  A little voice in my head said: posters... prints... Austin... Alamo Drafthouse... TURN AROUND RIGHT NOW...

As I mentioned in my post about the Alamo Drafthouse, their custom movie posters are legendary.  Austin-based artist Tim Doyle, who both initiated the poster program at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas and contributed poster artwork, has gained international recognition for his silkscreened designs.

As such, it was a pleasant surprise to find Tears in Rain, a marvellous 12 by 24 inch limited edition* Blade Runner inspired print signed by Mr. Doyle, for only thirty dollars.  The rain is wonderfully represented by a fine diagonal texture overprinted in silver.

Roy Batty's final speech from Blade Runner is one of the most evocative and moving pieces of cinema dialogue.  People are surprised to discover that it was partially improvised by Rutger Hauer, who felt that the scripted version was inappropriate, "opera talk" as he described it. He cut out several lines and added in the line about "tears in rain."

An enormously friendly and helpful employee offered to let me pick out a print of Tears in Rain that I liked, and as it turned out there was an version as low as number ten out of 190 available.  Traditionally, limited editions with lower numbers are more desirable than higher numbers, although for a run as low as 190 I doubt that there would be any sort of serious degradation to the screens.

The same helpful woman (who I would acknowledge by name if I'd had the foresight to check for a nametag) carefully placed the print in a sturdy tube after wrapping it in brown paper with an overly generous margin to (successfully) act as a shock absorber during the trip back to Vancouver.  Since then, I've had the print matted and framed by the good people at Kimprints in Gastown, and I picked up the excellent results this afternoon after work.

So there's the first step in adding some genre accents to my living space. Now I just have to figure out where to hang the damn thing...

- Sid

* It's a second edition, which does puzzle me a little.  New screens?  New artwork?  

  

"Crimson. Eleven. Delight. Petrichor."

Idris: It means "the smell of dust after rain."
Rory: What does?
Idris: Petrichor.
Rory: But I didn't ask.
Idris: Not yet. But you will.

Doctor Who, The Doctor's Wife

Thanks to Doctor Who, and by extension Neil Gaiman, I knew that the smell in the air following the brief shower this afternoon was petrichor. 

***

Initially, that's where I was going to stop - this was going to be another "you know you're a geek when..." postings.  But really, I think I owe my adopted homeland a little bit more credit than just that.

You want to increase your word power?  Forget Reader's Digest*.  Spend forty years reading science fiction and fantasy, and trust me, you will end up with a vocabulary that will result in bafflement, envy, and awe - perhaps all three at the same time, depending on the audience. 

But every once in a great while, you'll enjoy the distinct pleasure of finding someone who can reply in kind.

- Sid

*  Reader's Digest Magazine used to run a feature called Increase Your Word Power! - for all I know they may still have it, I haven't picked up a Reader's Digest for decades.