Σελίδες

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven | William Butler Yeats, 1899

Gustav Klimt, Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I, 1907

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.


William Butler Yeats, Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, 1899

Also:

Stereosc2pe + Dressing room | New York, 1950s-1960s

Stars of New York City Ballet, Tanaquil Le Clercq, Diana Adams,             Diane Arbus, Three female impersonators, NYC, 1962
and Maria Tallchief in their dressing room, early 1950′s                                                                                               



Book//mark - On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous | Ocean Vuong, 2019

 Ocean Vuong                                                               On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, 2019


“Dear Ma, I am writing to reach you—even if each word I put down is one word further from where you are.”

“In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes,
 when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you
 remember me?

I miss you more than I remember you.”

“They say nothing lasts forever but they're just scared it will last longer than they can love it.”

“What were you before you met me?"
"I think I was drowning"
"And what are you now?"
"Water”

“You once told me that the human eye is god's loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes
 through the pupil and still it holds nothing. The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's
 another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.”

“In a world myriad as ours, the gaze is a singular act: to look at something is to fill your
 whole life with it, if only briefly.”

“Because the sunset, like survival, exists only on the verge of its own disappearing. 
To be gorgeous, you must first be seen, but to be seen allows you to be hunted.”

“Is that what art is? To be touched thinking what we feel is ours when, in the end, 
it was someone else, in longing, who finds us?”

“Too much joy, I swear, is lost in our desperation to keep it.”

“Remember: The rules, like streets, can only take you to known places.”

“Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined.”

“All freedom is relative—you know too well—and sometimes it’s no freedom at all, but simply
 the cage widening far away from you, the bars abstracted with distance but still there, as when 
they “free” wild animals into nature preserves only to contain them yet again by larger borders. 
But I took it anyway, that widening. Because sometimes not seeing the bars is enough”

“To destroy a people, then, is to set them back in time.”

“Do you remember the happiest day of your life? What about the saddest? Do you ever 
wonder if sadness and happiness can be combined, to make a deep purple feeling,
 not good, not bad, but remarkable simply because you didn't have to live on o
ne side or the other?”

“I wanted to cry but did not yet know how to in English. So I did nothing.”

“I am writing because they told me to never start a sentence with because. But I wasn't trying
 to make a sentence—I was trying to break free. Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but
 the distance between the hunter and its prey.”

“I am thinking of beauty again, how some things are hunted because we have deemed 
them beautiful. If, relative to the history of our planet, an individual life is so short, a blink, 
as they say, then to be gorgeous, even from the day you're born to the day you die,
 is to be gorgeous only briefly.”

“I'm sorry I keep saying How are you? when I really mean Are you happy?”

“He loves me, he loves me not, we are taught to say, as we tear the flower from its flowerness. 
To arrive at love, then, is to arrive through obliteration. Eviscerate me, we mean to say, 
and I'll tell you the truth.”

“We try to preserve life, even when we know it has no chance of enduring its body. We feed it,
 keep it comfortable, bathe it, medicate it, caress it, even sing to it. We tend to these basic 
functions not because we are brave or selfless but because, like breath, it is the most
 fundamental act of our species: to sustain the body until time leaves it behind.”

“I am writing you from inside a body that used to be yours. 
Which is to say, I am writing as a son.”

“There is so much I want to tell you, Ma. I was once foolish enough to believe knowledge would
 clarify, but some things are so gauzed behind layers of syntax and semantics, behind days and
 hours, names forgotten, salvaged and shed, that simply knowing the wound exists does nothing
 to reveal it.
I don't know what I'm saying. I guess what I mean is that sometimes I don't know what or 
who we are. Days I feel like a human being, while other days I feel more like a sound.
I touch the world not as myself but as an echo of who I was. Can you hear me yet?
 Can you read me?”

“Ma. You once told me that memory is a choice. 
But if you were god, you'd know it's a flood.”

“They say nothing lasts forever and I’m writing you
 in the voice of an endangered species.”

Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, 2019


Alphabetarion # Escape | Bell Hooks, 1999


 “Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can
 be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.”

Bell Hooks,  All About Love: New Visions, 1999


Ένας φιλήσυχος πολίτης | Αντώνης Σαμαράκης, 1965

Γιάννης  Γαϊτης, Figures, 1966

 “Για το Καθεστώς φιλήσυχος πολίτης δε σημαίνει τίποτα. Τίποτα! Οι άνθρωποι χωρίζονται
 μόνο σ' εκείνους που είναι με το Καθεστώς και σ' εκείνους που δεν είναι. Για να είσαι εχθρός
 του Καθεστώτος, δε χρειάζεται να έχεις πράξει κάτι αντίθετο προς το Καθεστώς. Φτάνει να 
μην είσαι με το Καθεστώς, να μην έχεις εμφανίσει δράση θετική υπέρ του Καθεστώτος. 
Ναι, για το Καθεστώς ισχύει ο νόμος: "ο μη ων μετ' εμού κατ' εμού εστί".
[...] 
Το να είσαι απλώς ένας φιλήσυχος πολίτης, όχι μόνο δεν έχει καμία σημασία, αντίθετα, 
καταλήγει επιχείρημα εις βάρος σου. Θα πρέπει το ταχύτερο να υπάρξει νόμος που να 
ορίζει και να τιμωρεί σαν ιδιώνυμο έγκλημα το να είναι ένας "ένας φιλήσυχος πολίτης".”

Αντώνης Σαμαράκης, Το λάθος, 1965

Flick Review < It's Snow | Gayle Thomas, 1974












It's Snow | Gayle Thomas, 1974
Production company: National Film Board of Canada (NFB)

Landscapes | Paintings by Julian Trevelyan, 1938-1987

Julian Trevelyan, Windsor, 1969
 Julian Trevelyan, Richmond Park (London Parks Suite), 1969–1970
Julian Trevelyan, Low Tide, 1974
Julian Trevelyan, Winter, 1974
Julian Trevelyan, Le Havre, 1987
Julian Trevelyan, Fontaine de Vaucluse, 1972
Julian Trevelyan, Bolton Mills, 1938 ( collage)
Julian Trevelyan, Sienese landscape, variation IV, black, 1958


Julian Trevelyan (1910 – 1988) was an English artist and poet.

Alphabetarion # Unusual | Michael Moorcock, 1974

Marcel Duchamp, Bottle Rack (Porte-Bouteilles), 1958-59

“People are not alarmed by the unusual so long 
as it is placed in an acceptable context.”

 Michael Moorcock, The Land Leviathan (A Nomad of the Time Streams Novel), 1974

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! | Emily Dickinson, 1861

 Emily Dickinson "Wild nights" manuscript


Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!

Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!

Emily Dickinson, Wild Nights – Wild Nights!, 1861

Dickinson's posthumous editor Thomas Wentworth Higginson thought the poem was too erotic 
for a woman he deemed pure and was initially reluctant to print the poem, "lest the malignant 
read into it more than that virgin recluse ever dream of putting there"*. Modern readers 
now, however, recognize the poem as one of her most erotic and find in the text Dickinson's
 understanding of sexual passion.

* Leiter, Sharon. Critical Companion to Emily Dickinson: A Literary Reference to Her Life and Work. 
New York: Facts on File, Inc., 2007


Flick Review < Les Doulos | Jean-Pierre Melville, 1962


Silien: I don't give a damn. But I have the jewels and I need the money.



Le Doulos (1963)
Directed by Jean-Pierre Melville
Writers: Pierre Lesou(based on the novel by) -Jean-Pierre Melville
Cinematography: Nicolas Hayer
Stars: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Serge Reggiani, Jean Desailly, Fabienne Dali, Michel Piccoli

*
Martin Scorsese's favorite gangster movie.
Favorite storyline of Quentin Tarantino.

Jean-Pierre Melville and Jean Paul Belmondo, 1962


Also: