fresh feelings

primes

into the canyon

you punk

the great missing

"well at least i can pretend these shades are eyes shine shun and, like spraying paints, they color you around."

dear blog, today i ate a sandwich

born into brothels

kids with cameras

karina/godard

anna akhmatova, pt. 2

All is for you: the daily prayer,
The sleepless heat at night,
And of my verses, the white
Flock, and of my eyes, the blue fire.

No-one was more cherished, no-one tortured
Me more, not
Even the one who betrayed me to torture,
Not even the one who caressed me and forgot.

american apparel fails the french test

the burial of the dead

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in winter.
----------------------- T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

you still don't know me

we walk everywhere.
he does not play music, and i do not take photographs.

anna akhmatova

White Night

I haven't locked the door,
Nor lit the candles,
You don't know, don't care,
That tired I haven't the strength

To decide to go to bed.
Seeing the fields fade in
The sunset murk of pine-needles,
And to know all is lost,

That life is a cursed hell:
I've got drunk
On your voice in the doorway.
I was sure you'd come back.
------------ 1911, Tsarskoye Selo

Reading Hamlet

A dusty waste-plot by the cemetary,
Behind it, a river flashing blue.
You said to me: 'Go get thee to a nunnery,
Or get a fool to marry you...'

Well, princes are good at such speeches,
As a girl is quick to tears, --
But may those words stream like an ermine mantle
Behind him for ten thousand years.
------------ 1909, Kiev

[...] Against the sky the willow spreads a fan
The silk's torn off.
Maybe it's better I did not become
Your wife.
------------ 1911, Kiev

[...] Let the last leaves rustle!
Let the last thoughts languish!
I don't want to trouble
People used to being happy.
------------ 1910, Tsarskoye Selo

He loved three things alone:
White peacocks, evensong,
Old maps of America.
He hated children crying,
And raspberry jam with his tea,
And womanish hysteria.
... And he had married me.
----------- 1911

ville / skyline

all shades of her

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paparazzi alert!

by our favorite peeping tom zebradore.

"EVERYTHING GREEN FOREVER"

the world is watching you back.

wish fulfillment

these pants so bring me back to boston circa 1995.
oh and this one too, i had almost forgotten.

mountains of laundry

shine on...

...you crazy diamond