A Real Renaissance
Shut up, say nothing,
I don’t want to lose this
soft mystery.
Burn the air out of minutes,
suffocate your words,
kiss slowly.

Let your eyes be two silences,
staining my flesh
pink with fire.
Bend your mouth to mine.
Murmur warm, wet prayers
like the sun murmurs over unripe fruit
or the pale blush of a breast.

Kiss slowly,
let your tongue be the flame
feeding on my dreams;
so, so slowly
that my body becomes
a warm shiver under your lips
and I am owned
by this kiss.
Laura Victoria, “Kiss” (via youreyesblazeout)
If I were really really ridiculously wealthy, I wouldn’t buy a mansion, just tiny apartments in every city I love.

Mara Wilson (via sorakeem)

(via chanel-and-louboutins)

Prof. Charles Xavier: [to Class] When an individual acquires great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Will it be used for the greater good? Or will it be used for personal or for destructive ends? Now this is a question we must all ask ourselves. Why? Because we are mutants. Kitty Pryde: But Einstein said that ethics are an exclusive human concern, without any superhuman authority behind it. Prof. Charles Xavier: Einstein wasn’t a mutant, so far as we know.

Prof. Charles Xavier: [to Class] When an individual acquires great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Will it be used for the greater good? Or will it be used for personal or for destructive ends? Now this is a question we must all ask ourselves. Why? Because we are mutants.
Kitty Pryde: But Einstein said that ethics are an exclusive human concern, without any superhuman authority behind it.
Prof. Charles Xavier: Einstein wasn’t a mutant, so far as we know.

In the shading from her clavicle to the line of her top, I see either Christ on the cross or a ballerina. I can’t decide which.

In the shading from her clavicle to the line of her top, I see either Christ on the cross or a ballerina. I can’t decide which.

There is no progress in art, any more than there is progress in making love. There are simply different ways of doing it.
Man Ray (1948)

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she’s always a woman to me

She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she’ll never believe you
And she’ll take what you give her, but it’s not free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she’s always a woman to me

Oh—she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh—and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

And she’ll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she’ll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you’re bleedin’
But she’ll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself

Cause she’s always a woman to me

Oh—she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She’s ahead of her time
Oh—and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

She is frequently kind
And she’s suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She’s nobody’s fool
And she can’t be convicted
She’s earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you

But she’s always a woman to me

Spent a few weeks in Rome. No, not that Rome, the one in Georgia.  Some interviews at a couple local colleges, some runs along the river and through Berry College, splashing in the fountain downtown, torrential rains, a baseball game, golf and even a small kids carnival in a Walmart parking lot. Good times were had. It was good to connect with “family” again, and my daughter really loved the extended visit with Grandma and Grandpa. She has missed them terribly. We’ll see how this all plays out.
The cool comic book guy died. I guess it was unexpected. I thought maybe he closed up shop after the Holidays, but he died. Its too bad. His shops were pretty nice. I always felt welcome. Never knew what they were talking about, but I felt welcome.

Spent a few weeks in Rome. No, not that Rome, the one in Georgia.  Some interviews at a couple local colleges, some runs along the river and through Berry College, splashing in the fountain downtown, torrential rains, a baseball game, golf and even a small kids carnival in a Walmart parking lot. Good times were had. It was good to connect with “family” again, and my daughter really loved the extended visit with Grandma and Grandpa. She has missed them terribly. We’ll see how this all plays out.

The cool comic book guy died. I guess it was unexpected. I thought maybe he closed up shop after the Holidays, but he died. Its too bad. His shops were pretty nice. I always felt welcome. Never knew what they were talking about, but I felt welcome.

Joseph Kosuth - Art as Idea as Idea (1966-68)

Paul Simon - The Boy In The Bubble
29 plays

Raises his hand!

I refuse to beat my chest over a grief that belongs to others, or shout about how terrorists messed with the wrong city. I find no virtue in braying over the capture of a teenager whose toxic grievances, and misguided loyalties, led to such senseless ruin. It is sad, all of it. The greater sadness for me is that America feels increasingly like a nation united by spectacles of atrocity. We pay attention, and open our hearts, only when violence of a random and gaudy enough variety strikes.
Steve Almond in The New Republic