30.7.12

miles to go...

28.7.12

that same old feelin'


Today I passed you on the street
And my heart fell at your feet
I can't help it if I'm still in love with you

Someone else stood by your side
She looked so satisfied
I can't help it
I'm still in love with you

A picture from the past came slowly stealin'
As I brushed your arm and walked so close to you
Then suddenly I got that old-time feelin'
I can't help it
I am still in love with you

It hurts to know another's lips will kiss you
And hold you just the way I used to do
Oh heaven only knows how much I miss you
I can't help it
I'm still in love with you
backstage at comme des garçons fall winter 2009/10

25.7.12

a fragment...


silver key of the fountain of tears,
where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild;
softest grave of a thousand fears,
where their mother, care, like a drowsy child,
is laid asleep in flowers.


percy bysshe shelley, a fragment: to music, via chatoyance
rodarte a magazine

24.7.12

'craft' techniques magnifique

WE DANCE LIKE LITTLE MARY’S SWAYING TO THE SYMPHONY OF DESTRUCTION.

i am in awe with just graduated and winner of lighting 2012 
g star raw talent yvonne kwok's collection. look forward to see more in the future of yvonne kwok.

23.7.12

fuller...


i desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams.

virginia woolf
jesse laitinen for contributor magazine ss 2012: red plastic moon

20.7.12

i have...


i have spread my dreams under your feet;
tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

william butler yeats, the wind among the reeds
julia oliv by alex john back for the end #10

18.7.12

each...


each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

17.7.12

10:21

i think takashi harada's paintings would be beautiful on fabric
japanese sumi-ink, pigments, nikawa glue on canvas

when the moon...


when the moon comes up, the sea blankets the earth,

and the heart feels like an island in infinity.

16.7.12

and...


and the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful

than the risk it took to blossom.

anaïs nin

15.7.12

i forgive...


i forgive not because i became a saint, but because i’m tired of hating.

hilai, aleph - paulo coelho
soeurs de sang, french voque april 2008, david armstrong

14.7.12

pinhole window view

i love monique habraken's pinhole window view expands
the pinhole principle to encompass an entire room and its contents,
with a tiny hole in the window forming the only light source.
via wabi sabi

12.7.12

december



the white dove of winter
sheds its first
fine feathers;
they melt

as they touch
the warm ground
like note
of a once familiar 

music; the earth
shivers and
turns towards
the solstice
linda pastan, the months
bcbg max azria ss 2003, paolo roversi

11.7.12

a great hope fell...


a great hope fell
you heard no noise
the ruin was within.

10.7.12

macrocosmos


if i had a galactic pencil,
i would erase
all of the constellations

in space
and draw new constellations
of our souls intertwined.
Photo by anne sophie berger for radius magazine

9.7.12

the gods...



the gods have ways of 
telling you things 
when you think you know 
a lot
or worse
when you think 
you know 
just a 
little

tim walker for face, via lavendula

7.7.12

i love...


i love to smell flowers in the dark, she said. 

you get hold of their soul then.

l. m. montogmery 
givenchy by alexander mcqueen, haute couture f/w 1999/00
via murmurs

6.7.12

do not


do not travel far to other dusty lands, forsaking your own sitting place;

if you cannot find the truth where you are now, you will never find it.

magical thinking by tim walker for w magazine 2012

4.7.12

i see

i see
on your cheek
two tears
which i know
are hot
as two sparks
and salt
as two christals
of the sea.
200 elements by john miller

3.7.12

a...


a great hope fell
you heard no noise
the ruin was within.

1.7.12

emergence...


it’s midsummer night. the light is skinny;
a thin skirt of desire skims the earth.
dogs bark at the musk of other dogs
and the urge to go wild.
i am lingering at the edge
of a broken heart, striking relentlessly
against the flint of hard will.
it’s coming apart.
and everyone knows it.
so do squash erupting in flowers
the color of the sun.
so does the momentum of grace
gathering allies
in the partying mob.
the heart knows everything.
i remember when there was no urge
to cut the land or each other into pieces,
when we knew how to think
in beautiful.
there is no world like the one surfacing.
i can smell it as i pace in my square room,
the neighbour’s television
entering my house by waves of sound
makes me think about buying
a new car, another kind of cigarette
when i don’t need another car
and i don’t smoke cigarettes.
a human mind is small when thinking
of small things.
it is large when embracing the maker
of walking, thinking and flying.
if i can locate the sense beyond desire,
i will not eat or drink
until I stagger into the earth
with grief.
i will locate the point of dawning
and awaken
with the longest day in the world.
joy harjo, emergence
via m
tim walker for voque italia

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