( notations )
dirt enthusiast

blake kathryn
AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
No title available

tannertan36
almost home
Peter Solarz
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
tumblr dot com
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🪼
DEAR READER
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available
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@neuorder
( notations )
3 text works. ongoing. poster-bombing upcoming. i have the intention to host high-quality resolution (pdf) downloadables of these works. for the freedom of individuals to do what they may with them and as a fund-raising activity to in the future, printing offset editions of these.
i. CORNER ii. LEG iii. WALPOLE
tonight, felt well.
as well as this beating heart has been for some time.
my hips, they swang and swayed to italo-disco on the dancefloor.
in the room of a new friend, we listened to this.
iphone photographs.
(i) two apples in a green plastic bag after a cigarette.
(ii) pink twist lays against the gray.
01032017
‘la collectioneuse’
i collect many things and keep them all close to me to the ceiling from the floor i'm tripping on them constantly (charlotte gainsbourg)
photographs + fashion : hanafi ghazali model: bianca
arielle / i love hyde park
*
a qasidah, is translatable as an ode, a form of poetry, sung with its own rhythmic metre.
and from the qasidah’s that are gifted to us from the people of the past, this is a favourite for my heart.
-
yâ tawwâb tub ‘alainâ yâ tawwâb tub ‘alainâ warhamnâ wandhur ilainâ warhamnâ wandhur ilainâ
o acceptor of repentance, please accept our repentance. o acceptor of repentance, please accept our repentance. please love us and look upon us. please love us and look upon us.
domestic geographies.
08.01.17
il sesho at the late night valentine.
and (after).
and (other things from the day).
walking. a haggard man with his whole life slung over his shoulders sings loudly to himself. it goes like; i’ve seen many better days, and i’ve tried many different ways.
(just like honey)
i. happy victims, a dries van noten collector ii. unknown iii. lost in translation scene, jamc’s ‘just like honey’ plays iv. m.margiela fall 2006 v. (looking out into the distance) tarkovsky’s the mirror, 1975 vi. (looking at you) francois hardy vii. jane birkin in margiela, by fred jacobs
(hyde park). it was an intuitive feeling that i would ask her for a photograph, from as far as she was on the other side of the park. one can always sense those whom they should approach. i said hello just as she walked towards and came out from beneath the shade. i ask if she would allow a photograph. quizzical about why, i tell her honestly that because she looks well in her dress and walking stick. she would only allow me to if she could stand by her favourite tree in the park. i said mine was the big one over there, with a heart carved into it. many people try to climb that one. she loved how hers had its little branches intertwine with the larger ones up above them.
what was my name? its meaning? these were her questions. and what was hers? i couldn’t quite catch it - i’ll ask her if i see her again. but it meant ‘little white one’ she says. when we had walked away to the opposite ends of where i had seen her from, i turned around.
she was sitting on a bench. her feet could not reach the ground and she was twirling them around. she looked happy.
camus’ journals from 1935-42. he makes an observation about the dance of the javanese.
a coolly reticent young man from france. alan/alain?