Thus the gateway to Christmas has been opened and there is no going back. Here’s the annual post of this holiday chestnut, which always inspires me to add some ‘Mad Men’ garb to my office wardrobe for the next few days. (Just don’t ask me to do the dance because I will.)

Here are a few outtakes from the PVRTD project. As you may have noticed, the “drab and dreary” theme has infiltrated the entire look of ALANILAGAN.com, but that’s about to change for the holiday season. By the end of the month I will update all the darkness that surrounds us now, and PVRTD will be relegated to The Projects page. Until then, I invite you to soak it all in. Peruse the project itself from beginning to end – there is a loose arc to it, and despite its somber subject matter, there is something soothing about going through the photos.

There is, hopefully, some stimulation too. With its soft focus and blurry edges, I wanted to convey movement and restlessness, along with a certain tension. Most of my work tends to be much more concise and posed; breaking free from those constricts created an interesting juxtaposition with the oppressive nature of some of the scenes. Such duality often ends up in more compelling images.

Anyway, I’m offering more of an explanation than a decent artist should put forth, but I’ve never purported to be anything close to a decent artist so I guess it’s all right. Check out PVRTD when you get a chance.

PS – It also feels like the world is doing its part to highlight the relevance of this work; the other day a person stood up at an intermission and screamed, “Heil Hitler! Heil Trump!” at a production of, wait for it, ‘Fiddler on the Roof.’ Some patrons fled, fearing it was the start of a shooting. The madness is here. The madness is us.

Whenever I need to smile, I think of this exchange I had with my friend Kira on one of our Boston weekends:

Kira:“What do you call those people who crash weddings?”

Me:“Wedding crashers?”

Kira:“Yes, that’s it.”

Yeah, that’s right, Thanksgiving is at hand.

That’s gonna leave a mark.

It’s too soon.

Why is no one reeeeeeeeeady?

Clearly, some pre-holiday insanity has infiltrated my brain-drain.

Let’s just look back at the last week and see if we can figure out what the hell happened.

My first project in five years, PVRTD, premiered online. Check out The Projects for the latest addition.

A quieter Christmas wish list. 

The insomniac’s lament.

A fall fragrance by Jo Malone. 

New New York.

Ben Cohen, Simon Dunn & other foxy gents by Snooty Fox Images. 

A Boston reunion with an old friend brings the beautiful hints of holidays to come. 

A fall party at the Cape.

These #TinyThreads will build a tapestry. 

Hunks of the Day included Charles Venn, Jesse Palmer, Morgan Cipres, Staniel Ferreira, Josh Moore and Doug Armstrong.

Kira and I woke to the rain on Saturday morning. (Until we can afford a proper renovation, we are dealing with our condo plumbing issues as they arise.) Those problems aside, we lounged around the condo while the rain fell for most of the morning, idly sipping on tea and cleaning the remaining plates and glasses from the night before. The winter/holiday bedding was back on the bed, along with its dark red velvet accent pillows and sumptuous plush Korean blanket.

As if on cue for our trip to the Cape, the clouds suddenly lifted, the sky appeared, and bits of sun were suddenly scattered about. We gathered our bags together and hit the busy road to Cape Cod. Who on earth is going that way in November? Apparently a ton of people, as the traffic was horrendous, but eventually we made our way over the bridge and into Monument Beach.

JoAnn has always known how to throw a party, bringing people together when they need it the most. The Cape Crew trickled in throughout the day, Wally’s Dickens-Cider was bubbling on the stove, and a roaring fire was the central place where people sought relief from the wind. We huddled around it as Peaches stoked the flames and I was grateful to be around that group of friends again. We’ve all seen a lot in the last twenty years, but somehow we always make it back to the fall party.