Darkness Light Darkness

Short stop motion film by Czech surrealist Jan Svankmajer. circa 1989.

mhh hmm

" Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old."
-Franz Kafka

photographs.

birdsongs

BLAHHHHH

SUMMER BUMMER!!!!!!

I want to go to this festival so bad. I'm not sure which has a better line up this or Goner Fest  in Memphis. I don't think I'll be able to make it to either since I'm moving to Portland Mid September. Real life summer bummer.

cherry red suitcase

and I'm getting ready to pack it.

The Girl with the million dollar smile

R.I.P. Farrah Fawcett

What I Want From You Is Sweet

Orion Rigel Dommisse creates a haunting and lovely sound somewhere between freak folk and baroque classical music. It makes me feel like I should run through a dark forrest filled with white deer and write letters to a dead lover by candle light.

Download What I Want From You Is Sweet (2007) Here

BUGALOO

insomina.

tick tick tock.

the grandfather clock.

I can't wrap my head around the measurement.

The seconds.

minutes.

hours.

days.

weeks. 

months.

years.

Only the seasons make sense 

and the shift from light to dark. 

The warmth of bodies and the frozen minds. 

twenty.

It's 12:04 am which makes this now officially my birthday....

too bad I'm sick, alone and my throat hurts so bad I can't even smoke a god damn cigarette. 

rain dance.

I am the narrator.

sleepless nights in a smokey room in a town of agendas. 

I slammed my fists into the table, wished for whiskey, and settled for a less inebriating distraction. 

scribbled pages.

acrylic paint deep in the fibers of the beige carpet.

The communist Manifesto. 

I'm hanging by a string; aching, bruised, anxious, hungry to begin what I don't know,

second hand and sparkling.

silver spoons.

You're head is nodding to the speakers in my ears.

Eyes locked over the opening of a bottle,

through a cloud of smoke.

His wrists were covered in decorations of all sorts

and his fingers too.

Long blonde strands brushed away from

one of the loveliest faces I had ever seen.

Whispers in ears of motorcycles and rock and roll.