Mis amores
One Nice Bug Per Day
Three Goblin Art
trying on a metaphor
cherry valley forever

pixel skylines
almost home
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
occasionally subtle
we're not kids anymore.

if i look back, i am lost
hello vonnie
🪼

@theartofmadeline
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Today's Document

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wallacepolsom

izzy's playlists!
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d e v o n

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@gabiina
Mis amores
und der rosmarin wie der treueste hund an meiner seite. verlässlich, winterhart…. und heute ist Gelächter rundherum, weiter weg im südwesten und viel näher mit Kindergeschrei im Nordosten
Solaris (1972)
Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Director of Photography: Vadim Yusov
Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
Sulpicia (Roman female poet)
Sulpicia lived in the reign of Augustus and she is the only known female poet whose work has survived, Her short poems were addressed to a lover called Cerinthus. Below is one example:
“Cerinthus, do you care that I am sick, my body wracked with fever and fatigue? I cannot hope that I’ll be well again unless I think that that’s what you want too. But if my sickness doesn’t worry you, what good is it to me to be well again? “
Sulpicia: Text, translation, and commentary. Anne Mahoney. 2000. Text created electronically.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
Love this
Ingens Olga
Desde muy pequeña me acosaron las gitanas, los emisarios de otros mundos que dejaban mensajes cifrados debajo de mi almohada, el basilisco, las fiebres persistentes y los ladrones de niños, que a veces llegaban sin haberse ido. Fui creciendo despacio, con gran prolijidad, casi con esmero, y alcancé las fantásticas dimensiones que actualmente me impiden salir de mi propia jaula. Me alimenté con triángulos rectángulos, bebí estoicamente el aceite hirviendo de las invasiones inglesas, devoré animales mitológicos y me bañe varias veces en el mismo río. Esta última obstinación me lanzó a una fe sin fronteras. En cualquier momento en que la contemple ahora, esta fe flota, como un luminoso precipitado en suspensión, en todos los vasos comunicantes con que brindo por ti, por nosotros y por ellos que son la trinidad de cualquier persona, inclusive de la primera del singular.
Maurice Blanchot, un amor venido de otra parte. <3
Cardos
El viento norte me envuelve, me enreda el pelo, me sacude el corazón. Me trae el calor seco de esa zona que desconozco, pero me imagino como un desierto, intentando ocultar su tesoro a la cámara, donde secretamente crece un cardo.
Púrpura Punzante Solitario
Desde sus hojas me llama, para que vuelva la mirada, él florece, en su belleza de espina he perdido mis dedos, aprendí entonces sobre la sacralidad de los cuerpos. Ese halo de sensualidad que todos codician, achechantes, sin poder dejar de mirar, que se expande, se esparce, se desparrama, que descubro en la mirada desorbitada, del que pinta los cardos.
Q: On the awareness that you’re happy
“What was the term for consciously being aware that you’re happy and therefor becoming unhappy?” –Anonymous
kairosclerosis
n. the moment you realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste.
Kairosclerosis is from the Greek: kairos, "the opportune moment” + sclerosis, “hardening.” The Ancient Greeks had two words for time, chronos and kairos. Chronos is quantitative and linear—the ticking of the Western clock. Kairos is more qualitative, referring to moments that are indeterminate and sublime, when something special happens, when god speaks or the wind shifts, when a door is left open between one minute and the next.
This definition is why I ain’t writing The Dictionary of Obscure Pleasures. In my experience, moments of joy tend to die on the examination table. Kurt Vonnegut liked to say, “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.” I think the opposite is true. Notice when you’re sad, and dive in and wallow and examine it and pick it apart with forceps and calipers. The sadness will lose its vitality and harden over time into something benign and foreign, like an emotional fossil.
For more sadness fossils, read The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. For more etymologies with my commentary, go here.
A dolores que percibió la grandeza (2010)
Otoño, sí.
sweetiecheeeks:
Alto, cada vez mas alto...
El hombre en soledad. Lisandro Alonso sigue siendo más que nunca fiel a si mismo, cine coherente.
( Jauja, 2014, Lisandro Alonso)
Feature | Denmark/USA/Argentina/Mexico/Netherlands/Germany/France (108 mins, dir. Lisandro Alonso) "A delicate and enigmatic reflection on the legacy of Euro...
Maurice.