Heathrow’s beloved stuffed travelers are back. Doris and Edward Bair, the cuddly teddy bear couple who first charmed audiences in the airport’s 2016 holiday ad, have returned in a new campaign titled Must Be Love. The spot leans into the emotional warmth of their earlier appearances while highlighting the comfort and convenience of today’s travel experience.
The film follows the Bairs through Terminal 5, capturing the small but familiar moments many travelers will recognize. They begin their journey via Heathrow’s Pod Parking, zipping along in a driverless electric pod that gets them from the car park to the terminal in under six minutes. Edward, slightly flustered as always, struggles with the self-service baggage tags, while Doris, calm and collected, helps him navigate Heathrow’s Reserve & Collect shopping and keeps him updated through the airport’s app. The tone stays light and affectionate throughout, showing that travel isn’t just about the destination, but who you’re with along the way.
Set to a new version of It Must Be Love performed by British artist Maius Mollis, the spot blends realism and warmth through beautifully animated expressions and gestures. The bears’ movements were brought to life using live-action reference performances, lending their scenes a level of emotional subtlety that connects with viewers. Directed by Si&Ad of Academy Films, the ad captures the quiet routines that make traveling with someone feel meaningful.
nb: if the video fails to open in your browser, please click here to view.
The small German town of Bruchköbel, just outside Frankfurt, now features a bookshop not much larger than Doctor Who’s Tardis. Rathaus-Buchhandlung is the passion-project of bookseller Sandra Corell. Although the cozy store has just 25 square meters of selling space, it has become a local landmark for bibliophiles due to its unique facade. The diminutive shop’s outside sports a colorful mural of giant books.
The tiny bookshop, open since June, makes for a very intimate book browsing experience. Shoppers can only browse on the ground floor. The steep staircase to the first floor leads to office and storage areas. But for visitors, the real magic begins before they ever step inside—the bookshop itself is the story.
GUILDENSTERN: It’s autumnal.
When the light goes out, and the book is set down by the bedside, it all comes flooding in: the story you are reading; the story of the day; the understanding that it is a story, the day now past, those ahead, the clock-hand sweep of time; that you are the hero of your own story; that it will end in death but along the way come triumphs, misadventures, nuptials, tears; that the story contains several plots and connects to countless others; that you will never read all the books collected on your shelves but as long as you breathe the hero lives, pages will be turned; that stories keep us alive; that stories end—the tale of the drunken shoemaker, the tale of humankind—all stories, however beautiful, ingenious or corrupt; that fables are forgotten, myths corrode, gods vanish with the languages that named them; that darkness swallows the world, as in legend, but night in turn is vanquished by dawn; that even the sun, whose radiance authored life’s unpaginated complexity, will someday dwindle to extinction. Or so the story goes.
Examination at the Womb-Door
by Ted Hughes
Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death.
Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death.
Who owns these still-working lungs? Death.
Who owns this utility coat of muscles? Death.
Who owns these unspeakable guts? Death.
Who owns these questionable brains? Death.
All this messy blood? Death.
These minimum-efficiency eyes? Death.
This wicked little tongue? Death.
This occasional wakefulness? Death.
Given, stolen, or held pending trial?
Held.
Who owns the whole rainy, stony earth? Death.
Who owns all of space? Death.
Who is stronger than hope? Death.
Who is stronger than the will? Death.
Stronger than love? Death.
Stronger than life? Death.
But who is stronger than Death?
Me, evidently.
Pass, Crow.
And, oh, my God, my God, pity me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat! … How long this horrible thing lasted I know not; but it seemed that a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood!
Here’s a very spooky read for Halloween. This rare edition features some creepy wood engravings by Swiss graphic and stained glass artist Felix Hoffmann (1911-1975) for the 1965 Limited Editions Club production of Bram Stoker’s (1847-1912) masterpiece Dracula, printed with 33 wood engravings, with eight in three colors, at the in a limited edition of 1500 copies.
Marcel Proust on the beach
“But sometimes illumination comes to our rescue at the very moment when all seems lost; we have knocked at every door and they open on nothing until, at last, we stumble unconsciously against the only one through which we can enter the kingdom we have sought in vain a hundred years – and it opens.”
― Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time
Over the years I have found myself doing minor repairs and restorations on books in my own collection and occasionally on books that I have sold. None of the projects compares to the amazing work of Japanese artisan and book hero Nobuo Okano.
I recently stumbled on a heartwarming video (below) of the craftsman as he revives a mangled, but precious old dictionary for a customer. In this challenging project: a 1,000-page English–Japanese dictionary, which had been used years ago by its owner, then passed down through time, picked up again in a moment of nostalgia, and finally given to Okano for restoration.
NB: If the video fails to open in your browser, please click on this link to our homepage to view the 10 minute film.
Travel Between The Pages 