#casquedor

[cinefast]

The wonderful #simonesignoret #casquedor #jacquesbecker (à Montmartre) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgSXysBLlpT/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[gerardbillet]

Mémoires du quartier Popincourt. #mairie11 #popincourt #quartierpopincourt #asqp #casquedor #lesapaches #judeoespagnol #lepetitistanbul #instapic #photooftheday #parismaville (à Square Francis-Lemarque) https://www.instagram.com/p/COuntKgFmfg/?igshid=11f54swuszat1

[danceinfilms]

Casque d’Or (1952) Jacques Becker

[thedelvino]

Mood #casquedor #simonesignoret #sergereggiani #jacquesbecker (à Joinville Le Pont Bord De Marne)

[corbeauxblog]

CrowBar: An Ad Campaign for Death

I hear French. There's a bunch of foreigners speaking the opulent language. Can't really tell whether they're from the mother country or just have a blast practicing the language out in the field. I felt enchanted. Coincidentally, I was reading a book by Milan Kundera with the title "Identity." I made the purchase just a few days ago. Interestingly enough, Kundera is a Franco-Czech author. The book is about a couple in France. In the past I blatantly confused Maurice Blanchot with Milan Kundera. There's no real connection between the two authors, apart from them being contemporary novelists dealing with death, melancholy and love. And Blanchot is French. In one world: "existentialists." Moving on, however, I realized the music the little café had on was the soundtrack to "Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain." It was all too obvious. It was all too French all of a sudden. Thank God for these teen Italian bellas strolling through the street and breaking my French line of thought. Grazie Mille!

Not an hour ago a gypsy roamed through the street of my apartment building. He broke Sunday's silence. He did it by playing a bal-musette song. He was looking for somebody as he was gazing at the sky like he knew it was about to fall. With every long-standing gaze he never forgot to press the right ivory of his accordion or take a leisurely step forward. Still playing the same sad, but beautiful song, he chanted at the skies with his eyes. Whoever he wanted to summon never showed up. He disappeared within Sunday's silence.

My beat-up watch is a divergent. It chooses to let time pass by whenever it pleases. Does it have free will? Of course not, silly. It's a fucking inanimate object. It doesn't breathe. It doesn't do photosynthesis. It doesn't have gills. What it has is one tiny rose window announcing your death.

(Image Source)