Word: fogged
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...recognizes this problem but knows she cannot attain the spiritual strength in which, "I will hear myself scream in agony, and at the same time I will laugh because I will be sure of myself." And so she seeks escape through morphine, which to her is like the fog closed about their summer house: "I really love fog . . . It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed to be. No one can find or touch you any more...
James Tyrone and his sons seek the same escape, but their ways are closer to the earth: through liquor, prostitutes, and poetry. But they too cannot remain alone in the fog or in the clubs and bars very long, but are drawn back to the white-haired woman, once beautiful, who is their wife and mother, and their grief. And when they return to the house, to unhappiness and sordid squabbling, she is glad: "I was so relieved and happy when you came, and grateful to you. It's very dreary and sad to be here alone in the fog...
...thing. Through an ingenious use of sound it sought to catch the mind's eye with the ear. The Workshop's, first director, the late Irving Reis, was a onetime control-room engineer, who sweated over electrical filters, oscillators and echo chambers to produce the sound of fog, the footsteps of gods, the dissonance of bells driving someone mad, the witches in Macbeth, the feel of going under ether. A sound made listeners see doors open and close. When someone in the play was stabbed, listeners were made to feel it as a sound-effects man hovered over...
Morris is the first to admit that much of his inspiration comes from Pacific Coast landscape. To find it, he need go no farther than the front door of his cliffside house, where he lives with his wife, Sculptress Hilda Morris, and ten-year-old son David. "Frequently fog makes islands of trees, very Oriental. This dissolves into misty atmosphere and double horizons. There's a vertical and horizontal thing going on, with the trees making the verticals." But Morris punctures the critics who have made a cult of the North west's Orient-influenced mysticism: "I guess...
...their palms, it would take perhaps two seconds for the sound to die to inaudibility. Result: when an orchestra played, it sounded mellow, sometimes foggy. Composers wrote symphonies to be performed under those conditions, and musicians played their instruments no better than necessary to pass muster under the mellow fog. Until the electronic age, except for musicians playing outdoors, everybody was accustomed to the old sound. When Toscanini first walked into NBC's studio 8-H, he clapped his hands, heard the echo die within a second and passed his judgment: "Too sec" i.e., dry. He was referring...