Desert Island Lunch.
Jane, born in South Africa, meets independence at college. Though she now has a two year-old in tow there is a nanny; there is a car; there is sunshine and steamy heat. There is a cassette she plays again and again. She never goes back to the good-looking husband, who was not a nice man. Carole has travelled with her camera, giving permanence to the shifting sands of deserts, to the melting blocks of icebergs. A young and beautiful musician has found her images online and wants to meet her, wants to compose around her photographs. She is his album cover. Susan returns to her political roots and celebrates two men in horn-rimmed glasses, Scottish Everlies. Sheelagh plays Jacques Brel. Ne me quitte pas; she has just walked out of the life of a man. Alone in her room, she plays this borrowed track, dissolves in tears, turns and walks straight back into that same life. Diana and Elvira Madigan meet at times of childbirth or impending death; Mozart moves her world. Marianne's memories recall the songs of the dustbowl's Woody Guthrie.
Everyone has their stories tied to strings of notes. They fly up like kites.
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