Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Sorry lovely readers for the recent onslaught of poorly formatted posts. I went on a weekend trip and put several posts in the queue so you'd have reading material while I was away, but to ensure things were going smoothly I checked the blog yesterday I saw they had reverted to old drafts rather than published the final polished versions! I'm usually such a stickler for proper presentation so I'm going to polish them up and send them back out on their way very soon with a whole lot more. xo
Posted by lise silva at 5:19 PM
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Midnight and melancholy go so well together.
All you need is a chair by the window, a glass of something amber, a pack of cigarettes, a fuzzy radio station playing on low in the background, when old midnight comes around.
In Naples, where prostitutes can pay their rent, Angela is sentenced to a year in the workhouse when she tries to steal (while streetwalking) to pay for medicine for her dying mother. She escapes and is hidden by a circus, where she's a natural talent and meets Gino, a painter. When she breaks her ankle in a fall, her career ends. What can she and Gino do? He wants to go to Naples, but the law may still be looking for her, and Gino doesn't know about her past. Starving artist and a beauty with a secret: is there room in this world for them? via IMDB
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
"In Search of Space, Hawkwind's second album from 1971. It features a collage of text and photos/illustrations - supposedly a found log book belonging to a space ship - containing notes left by these wandering space travellers, cryptic messages to whatever roaming earthling might stumble upon it: in search of space, in search of the past..."
Touch and depart
Fingers probe and return to the glove
And fall away across the floor
Leading left from right.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
I have been home alone for days now and each night was a little scary. I heard that some people I knew were secretly part of a cult, hidden in the countryside. They drink a strange tea and have visions. I read up on rare South American religions late into the night, then I kept going until daylight.
That night I had a dream that a giant diety, fleshed out in large human proportions, with mass and weight to his presence, came up to me, walking out from an empty room in my apartment. He looked almost like a diety out of an old Hindu painting-- which are usually so charming and light, but he was gravely serious and massive. He was part animal, and blue, and wearing big leather boots and beading. I remember the sound of his heavy shoes and the little tinkling of trinkets, pendants, beads, hanging, rattling.
It felt so real that later after waking myself, when I summoned the courage, I went back to the room and closed the door. I didn't open it for three days. I used to do that when I was young, there would be a Pandora's box-like place that I would close and never open, like a closet, or a deep drawer. I felt that I could keep all the nightmares in that one place as long as I keep it shut and never opened it. It was a strong feeling, like a superstition.
I thought about the 27 club. Brian Jones' death is listed as "Death by misadventure"