bruit pour rien

["May the ground not accept my blood when I die, nor the bright air my soul, if I am lying"]

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

A metamorfose dos pássaros (Catarina Vasconcelos, 2020)

[finita--la--commedia]

Sunrise. Atlantic Ocean.

July 29, 2020

[elle-if]

"I truly hadn't realized that Harlem had so many stores until i saw them all smashed open; the first time the word wealth ever entered my mind in relation to Harlem was when I saw it scattered in the streets. But one's first, incongruous impression of plenty was countered immediately by an impression of waste. None of this was doing anybody any good. It would have been better to have left the plate glass as it had been and the goods lying in the stores.

It would have been better, but it would also have been intolerable, for Harlem had needed something to smash."

James Baldwin, Notes of a Native son

[thegingerpowers]

[breezingby]

Not Today, anyway…

[elle-if]

.

[elle-if]

It's little I care what path I take,

And where it leads it's little I care,

But out of this house, lest my heart break,

I must go, and off somewhere!

It's little I know what's in my heart,

What's in my mind it's little I know,

But there's that in me must up and start,

And it's little I care where my feet go!

I wish I could walk for a day and a night,

And find me at dawn in a desolate place,

With never the rut of a road in sight,

Or the roof of a house, or the eyes of a face.

I wish I could walk till my blood should spout,

And drop me, never to stir again,

On a shore that is wide, for the tide is out,

And the weedy rocks are bare to the rain.

But dump or dock, where the path I take

Brings up, it's little enough I care,

And it's little I'd mind the fuss they'll make,

Huddled dead in a ditch somewhere.

"Is something the matter, dear," she said,

"That you sit at your work so silently?"

"No, mother, no—'twas a knot in my thread.

There goes the kettle—I'll make the tea."

(Departure, Edna St. Vincent Millay)

[elle-if]

Denise Levertov

[leonardcohenofficial]

on the creation of art

antonin artaud, van gogh: the man suicided by society / gwendolyn brooks, “boy breaking glass” / mary shelley, introduction to frankenstein / georgia o’keeffe / haki r. madhubuti, “for the consideration of poets”

[gnossienne]

T.S. Eliot, from Four Quartets

[elle-if]

I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way.

[elle-if]

Yours

(now I'm even losing my name - it was getting shorter and shorter all the time and is now: Yours)

- Kafka, letters to Milena

[llovinghome]

[elle-if]

Between pity and guilt and fear I began to feel that there was another me trapped in my skull like a jack-in-the-box who might escape my control at any moment and fill the air with screaming.

James Baldwin, Notes of a Native Son

[klassizismus]

Painting's details by Théodore Gudin

[lothegalaxye]

Untitled, Francesca Woodman (1977)

[elle-if]

[elle-if]

Having a coke with you

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne

or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona

partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian

partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt

partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches

partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary

it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still

as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it

in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth

between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint

you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

                                                                                                              I look

at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world

except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick

which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together for the first time

and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism

just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or

at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me

and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them

when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank

or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully

as the horse

                               it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience

which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I’m telling you about it

- Frank O'Hara