Prenons la vie!

[nousles]

I never never turned aside, he said, I never walked away. It was you who built the temple, it was you who covered up my face.

L.C.

[nousles]

Leonard Cohen - Lover, Lover, Lover (Audio)

[nousles]

Johnny Cash - If you could read my mind.wmv

‘In a castle dark or a fortress strong With chains upon my feet’ 

[nousles]

Zdravko Colic - Zelena si rijeka bila - (Audio 1974)

Label and copyright: Diskoton Digital distribution: Zdravko Čolić - Zelena si rijeka bila - (audio) - 1974 Diskoton Music: K. Monteno Lyrics: K. Monteno Arr:...

[lifeinpoetry]

She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.

William Faulkner, from As I Lay Dying (via lifeinpoetry)

[metaphorformetaphor]

“I’m afraid,” Alissa goes on. “Afraid of being abandoned, afraid of the future, afraid of loving, of violence, of numbers, of the unknown, of hunger, of poverty, of the truth.”

Marguerite Duras, from Destroy, She Said, transl. by Barbara Bray (Grove Press, 1994)

[nousles]

Benjamin Clementine - Condolence

Benjamin's debut album 'At Least For Now' available to buy & listen in all formats including CD, download and streaming. Visit the stores & services below to...

[huariqueje]

The Meaning of the Night -  René Margritte

Belgian 1898-1967

[metaphorformetaphor]

Our movements are nearly identical. We don’t look at one another. We enjoy this similarity. We look out the window at a sky lost in mist. So all things, then, have the look of forever.

Yiannis Ritsos, “Diary of Exile I,” Diaries of Exile (Archipelago Books, 2012)

[art-is-art-is-art]

Cathy as Young Flora, Aaron Shikler

[das-grablied-deactivated2016061]

Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet  (via chandr-a)

[angiopathia]

Noć to su zvezde. Iz moje zaspale glave izleće ptica. Između dve gorke dubine jedna ptica. I rt dobre nade. O mrtav da sam. Al ne pomažu kletve. Smrt svoju u glavi nosim ja putnik bez prtljaga i lica.

Branko Miljković (Triptihon za Euridiku)

[laclefdescoeurs]

Calm Waters, 1910, Vladimir Nikolaevich Fedorovich (1871-1928)

[simena]

Aleksandr Gerasimov - Apple Tree Garden

[minima--moralia]

Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate. Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met. "Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures.” This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted. When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “My travels have changed me…” Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “Every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”

Kafka and the Doll: The Pervasiveness of Loss.

[11-03-bo-deactivated20161220]

Wild Strawberries (1957) Ingmar Bergman

[heteroglossia]

In memory of Virginia Woolf