...

I feel like an idiot right now. I wish I could understand. I wrote in my big green book where I keep my poetry... I found myself upset. I got so used to being so alone by myself my writing and music is all I really turned to. Lately I've been away from that. It was really challenging to make myself write.

There is always a constant balance I have to keep. I've come to accept it rather than be upset with it. Something's going one way, and then the other. I really don't want to be philosophical about it.

Just being

I really don't have to say much because the video says it all. This is one of the reasons why I have completely written off MTV.

Man Ray

Sarah Moon

Dali

Knowing is not enough; we must apply.
Willing is not enough; we must do.
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe



Nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose--
a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye.
-Mary Shelley

tendu station wagon dancer

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art---
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors---
No---yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever---or else swoon in death.

1819 John Keats

Clifford Coffin

In serious need of some sun. Love this photo.

Got 'em :)

Reminds me of the time when I was on an IOU basis with the Ice Cream man as a kid. Loyal customer. Bought some yesterday. Joyful simplicity.



-Z

Garden In Hell

Diana Vreeland

When I was a girl

Naomi Sims

Life forever amazes and entertains one...

Need to purge all my grotesque feelings...

I'll paint this barren ground red


In nimble silence
The dead air weighs in
on dark clamouring hands
Remaining empty

HellHole RatRace

im sick and tired of the way that i feel,
im sick of dreaming and its never for real.
im all alone with my deep thoughts.
im all alone with my heartache and my good intentions.

i work to eat and drink and sleep just to live,
feels like im never getting back what i give.
ive got a sad song in my sweet heart.
and all i really ever need is some love and attention

and i dont want to cry my whole life through,
i want to do some laughing too.
so come on, come on, come on, come on, laugh with me.
and i dont want to die without shaking up a leg or two,
yeah, i want to do some dancing too.
so come on, come on, come on, come on, dance with me.

sometimes youve just gotta make it for yourself.
sometimes sugar, it just takes someone else.
sometimes youve just gotta make it for yourself.
sometimes baby, you just need someone else.

and i dont want to cry my whole life through
i want to do some laughing too
so come on, come on, come on, come on, laugh with me.
and i dont want to die without shaking up a leg or two
yeah, i want to do some dancing too
so come on, come on, come on, come on, dance with me.

sometimes youve just gotta make it for yourself.
sometimes honey, it just takes someone else.
sometimes youve just gotta make it for yourself.
sometimes darling, you just need someone else.

and i dont want to cry my whole life through
i want to do some laughing too
so come on, come on, come on, come on, laugh with me.
and i dont want to die without shaking up a leg or two
yeah, i want to do some dancing too
so come on, come on, come on, come on, dance with me.

Love pervades

I see that my sentimentality is disappearing. Somethings I don't understand... Or it just hurts to. People do things for so many reasons. Compassion is good. It's not easing the pain. I have no clue where it is I am going.

Matriarch

Open hands
A request of guidance
I used to ask you for

In remains is a hollowness
I'm watching you just like him

Your speech dissipating
I used to love you
Even with the scars you left me with

With swift conjecture I tried to twist
The reason why you did those things
Now I see you don't recognize yourself

A trade: care for punishment

Green eyed monster

I watch you in disappointment
I thought you were stronger than that

And just like him you strike to injure
But he was never mine

You both garner the same meaning

Lost
when it should have been love

Craig Welch

xx

spray painting

One of my cohorts took this, my brain isn't tingling so much from the fumes any more...

Yayoi Kusama

xx

Love has to spawn from love to be given
What in offering will remain

A beggars fortune

Love predates the lovers face

Beds

I was laying in my bed last night trying to sleep and was experiencing insomnia. Spent two hours at least staring into space, or down at my sheets which have winking smiley faces on them... Somewhat tickled by that because the most time I spend in my bed is when I am feeling depressed. It was funny. Subtle irony.

I never slept in my bed as a child. I slept on floors. I had a bed... Many boughts with paranoia, something or other left me frightened beyond belief. I slept on the floor where any child usually would think to sleep. Wasn't till I got much older that I learned about the comfort of a bed.

This is a mere reflection. Something I was thinking about when my mind wouldn't turn off and I began to write in bed. I don't feel sad about it, just reflective.

Beds remind me of hospitals, relatives, and kin. Or when I finally got too big to use it as a hiding space. Attached is a plethora of feelings. Dread, anger, fun.

Don't think I still have the same bed I had when I was a kid. Do have the same headboard, which is cut in the shape of an oriental temple. It's heavy, I've had to carry it many times.

It made me think of beds, houses, streets, neighbors, childhood friends. How every single day when the sun went down the sunset bled into the wooden window shades of the house I grew up in. The sun was blood red. Looked forward to that. Always in awe. Colored hues of the sky.

Reflection

Katsushika Hokusai

Mourning

I am watching you die and there's is nothing I can do to save you. I'd make you see if I could. Don't get lost, you're not that far gone. I love you. I'll carry you.

Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Putting out the fire with gasoline

Snow Angel

Nothing like getting snow down your jacket...

Ai du

In Silence Wondering

Occupied by familiar oddities
Unaware of hopefulness
She prays her wisdom won't
Supercede his glory

Taken back to the days of wondering
Abreast to the magic it can bring
In a wonderers eyes the truth can behold
such entities

She's an oddity

New beginners pray for justice
When they enter the space of
uncertainty

She'll renew her faith and
save the faces of reckless creation
Today spilling out new beginnings

"I'm tired of waking up that way."

The stars breath in silence
They sparkle in my tomb

Chief

Ars Gratia Arits- Art for Art's Sake

This is how I began my day. Watching a movie is part of my every day. I have this amazing book that chronicles the beginning of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) till like 1974, and He Who Gets Slapped (1924) is said to be the studios first ever film to be released.
Silent film is so magical in the sense of the power of early imagination, there's such a freshness about it. The innocence of early creation and experimentation with film. Even the music... The pantomime is such an art; body language is so powerful, expressive, beautiful. Lon Chaney is still exciting to watch. Pure magic, pure imagination. The early ages of the motion picture are a gift.

Ars Gratia Artis- Art for Art's Sake


I want to join the circus xx :)

Verklempt

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than a thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief... and unspeakable love. -Washington Irving

Into A swan

Don't Mind

Hero






Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face,
Don't mind people grinnin' in your face,
Just bear this in mind-
A true friend is hard to find;
Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face.

You know your mother will talk about you,
Your sisters and brothers, too;
Yes, don't care how you're trying to live,
They'll talk about you still...
Yes, but bear this in mind,
A true friend is hard to find;
Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face.

Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face,
Don't mind people grinnin' in your face,
Just bear this in mind-
A true friend is hard to find;
Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face.

You know they'll jump you up and down
They'll carry you all round and round;
Just as soon as your back is turned,
They'll be tryin' to crush you down.
Yes, but bear this in mind,
A true friend is hard to find;
Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face.

Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face,
Don't mind people grinnin' in your face,
Just bear this in mind-
A true friend is hard to find;
Don't you mind people grinnin' in your face.

Run free

I've got to submit my application for graduation to get my Associates degree. Now I am in a place where I have to decide whether to get my Bachelors degree in film or continue my studies in theatre. Work in progress let say... Eh...



Sonja Sohn

Double consciousness

Carrie Mae Weems self portrait "I looked and failed to see what so terrified you."


It is a peculiar sensation, this double consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt or pity. One ever feels his two-ness,- an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
-W.E.B. Du Bois