#durell

He looks terrible in this video, especially after he declared his relationship with that certain person. He never seemed to recover from it. He appears to be getting worse and worse. Although he always tries to act like everything is okay, his outward appearance reflects his inner turmoil. It seems to show his struggles and hardships.

His IG video date: May 3rd, 2021

Henry Cavill was an advocate for animals and the planet through Durell's challenge. He served as their ambassador.

In this video, he sought people’s help for the Durell Challenge in celebration of his birthday.

He adopted bats to support the Durell.

Help animals on the road like this. You might think he was once a beautiful person, both inside and out.

Did this person at one time exist when he was young and pure? Was it part of him? Was it all act?

What happened to the Durell Challenge? How did he lose his position as ambassador?

Please comment below if you have your opinion.

You can still honor the memory of the old Henry. I know the old one is gone. Perhaps it was his persona. I am including the link to the Durell Challenge.

The Durell Challenge is right around the corner and Ive finally finished this little passion project, a Henry Cavill colouring book with all proceeds going to Durell. 10 pages to colour in, digital file only (for now!)

Lotus Esprit, Durell software (1986)

Lawrence Durrell is best known for his opulent tetralogy of novels, The Alexandria Quartet (1957–60). But it was as a poet that he first came to public notice – and acclaim – with collections such as A Private Country (1943), Cities, Plains and People (1946), On Seeming To Presume (1948) and The Tree of Idleness (1955). Indeed, Durrell later described himself as a “poet who had stumbled into prose”. Peter Porter’s Selected Poems (2006) gives a flavour of the range and quality of Durrell’s best work, though it remains sadly neglected. For as the poet and novelist John Wain once testified, Durrell’s “ear is so fine, his choice of words and rhythms so rare and joyous” that to read him “is to have one’s love of poetry rekindled”. Durrell also had an admirer in T. S. Eliot, his editor at Faber, without whose work his own would not have been possible. But the more availing influence is perhaps W. H. Auden. Durrell shares something of his contemporary’s mastery of cadence, glinting particularity and fragmented, quirky meditativeness: qualities which he puts at the service of what he called the “spirit of place”. But you needn’t swallow his shtick about topography conserving “national essence” to appreciate the seductive oddity of his descriptions, or be moved by his astonishing rapport with the landscape, as in the unforgettable evocations of Corfu in the travel memoir Prospero’s Cell (1945).