StumbleUpon | Shitao's comments & reviews

self portrait back(t)ard on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 18:17:54 -0800

I'll be the round about
The words will make you out 'n' out
I'll spend the day your way......
Call it morning driving thru the sound and
In and out the valley......

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzlaCqSIyzg

The muses dance and sing
They make the children really ring
I'll spend the day your way
Call it morning driving thru the sound and
In and out the valley.....

In and around the lake
Mountains come out of the sky
and they Stand there
One mile over we'll be there and we'll see you
Ten true summers we'll be there and
Laughing too
Twenty four before my love you'll see I'll be
There with you

I will remember you
Your silhouette will charge the view
Of distance atmosphere......
Call it morning driving thru the sound and
Even in the valley......

In and around the lake
Mountains come out of the sky
and they Stand there
One mile over we'll be there and we'll see you
Ten true summers we'll be there and
Laughing too ooo oo oo
Twenty four before my love you'll see I'll be
There with you

Along the drifting cloud the eagle searching
Down on the land
Catching the swirling wind the sailor sees
The rim of the land
The eagle's dancing wings create as weather
Spins out of hand

Go closer hold the land feel partly no more
Than grains of sand
We stand to lose all time a thousand answers
By in our hand
Next to your deeper fears we stand
Surrounded by million years

I'll be the roundabout
The words will make you out 'n' out
I'll be the roundabout
The words will make you out 'n' out........

In and around the lake
Mountains come out of the sky they
Stand there
Twenty four before my love and I'll be
There........

I'll be the roundabout
The words will make you out 'n' out
We spend the day your way
Call it morning driving thru the sound and
In and out the valley.... eh

In and around the lake
Mountains come out of the sky and they
Stand there
One mile over we'll be there and we'll see You
Ten true summers we'll be there and
Laughing too ooo
Twenty four before my love you'll see I'll be
There with you.....

HARRY MANX voodoo child cognac 2003 hendrix

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:55:30 -0800

HARRY MANX voodoo child (voodoo chile) cognac blues passions 2003 (n' oubliez pas de cliquer sur haute qualite) (dont forget to choose high quality)

glasgow, missouri on the missouri river on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:54:22 -0800

Song

What I took in my hand
grew in weight. You must
understand it
was not obscene.

Night comes. We sleep.
Then if you know what
say it.
Don't pretend.

Guises are
what enemies wear. You
and I live
in a prayer.

Helpless. Helpless,
should I speak.
Would you.
What do you think of me.

No woman ever was,
was wiser
than you. None is
more true.

But fate, love, fate
scares me. What
I took in my hand
grows in weight.

Robert Creeley

http://www-tc.pbs.org/harriman/images/century/art_img1_lg.jpg

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:54:07 -0800

Gifford's Indian Seal Hunters Hut, Yakutat Bay conveys the muting effect of cold air and low skies on the landscape. The people and the dogs near the hut are still, small figures that emphasize the quiet of the scene. Dellenbaugh's Mt. Fairweather from the Northwest is an impressionistic depiction of a seascape and mountain range, where the subdued color contrasts with the grand scale of the scene.

if morning ever comes on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:53:49 -0800

Monet Refuses the Operation

Doctor, you say there are no halos
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,
the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.
What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don't know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world
is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!
Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and change our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

Lisel Mueller, "Monet Refuses the Operation" from Second Language (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1986)

Andrew Smith Gallery - Jerry Uelsmann - Other Realities

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:53:14 -0800

Dolor

I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils,
Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper-weight,
All the misery of manila folders and mucilage,
Desolation in immaculate public places,
Lonely reception room, lavatory, switchboard,
The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher,
Ritual of multigraph, paper-clip, comma,
Endless duplication of lives and objects.
And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions,
Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,
Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,
Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,
Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.

-- Theodore Roethke

If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger,Thered Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats: Poets are both clean and warm And most are far above the norm Whether here or on the roam Have a poet in every home! #30

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:53:01 -0800

Robert Creeley

Poets are both clean and warm
And most are far above the norm
Whether here or on the roam
Have a poet in every home!

Beth Cavener Stichter - Premoniton

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:52:03 -0800

There are primitive animal instincts lurking in our own depths, waiting for the chance to slide past a conscious moment. The sculptures I create focus on human psychology, stripped of context and rationalization, and articulated through animal and human forms. On the surface, these figures are simply feral and domestic individuals suspended in a moment of tension. Beneath the surface they embody the impacts of aggression, territorial desires, isolation, and pack mentality.

Both human and animal interactions show patterns of intricate, subliminal gestures that betray intent and motivation. The things we leave unsaid are far more important than the words we speak out-loud to one another. I have learned to read meaning in the subtler signs; a look, the way one holds one's hands, the tightening of muscles in the shoulders, the incline of the head, the rhythm of a walk, and the slightest unconscious gestures. I rely on animal body language in my work as a metaphor for these underlying patterns, transforming the animal subjects into human psychological portraits.

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

--Derek Walcott

The Dude: A Little Lebowski, Alive in All of Us : NPR

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:51:51 -0800

Along with that steady regimen of White Russians, Jeffrey "The Dude" Lebowski burns it -- a lot. So he's pretty deft with a roach clip. And for recreation? "The usual: bowl, drive around, the occasional acid flashback. "Let's face it: The Dude is a lazy deadbeat. A loser. A '60s burnout.

He's also been cited in literally hundreds of doctoral dissertations and academic papers over the last decade. He's a fictional hero who has inspired a real-world lifestyle -- even semi-annual Star Trek-style Lebowski conventions across the country. So what is it about the Dude? We asked one of the few qualified to answer that: Jeff Bridges, who played him. "You know, I was thinking about kind of preparing for this interview," says Bridges. "I didn't do that, in honor of the Dude. I don't think the Dude would've prepared."

And that sums up the heart, the soul and the core of what the Dude is about. It's what filmmakers Joel and Ethan Coen set out to do with the Dude -- to personify casualness and American informality. They found their muse in a man who's actually called "the Dude" in real life.

NPR.org, May 23, 2008 · 1 glass tumbler (filled with ice)

1 shot (free pour) Smirnoff Vodka
2 shots (free pour) Kahlua
Top off with half and half
(Out of cream? The Dude uses powdered creamer in a pinch)

Alandro al: fevereiro 2005 Arquivo

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:51:37 -0800

Paula Rego's 'The dance'

Hymn to the Neck

Tamed by starched collars or looped by the noose,

all hail the stem that holds up the frail cranial buttercup.

The neck throbs with dread of the guillotine's kiss, while

the silly, bracelet-craving wrists chafe in their handcuffs.

Your one and only neck, home to glottis, tonsils,

and many other highly specialized pieces of meat,

is covered with stubble. Three mornings ago, undeserving

sinner though she is, yours truly got to watch you shave

in the bath. Sap matted your chest hair. A clouded

hand mirror reflected a piece of your cheek. Vapor

rose all around like spirit-infested mist in some fabled

rainforest. The throat is the road. Speech is its pilgrim.

Something pulses visibly in your neck as the words

hand me a towel flower from your mouth.

--Amy Gerstler