roma: primo amore

I love this post from Milk, although I cannot honestly say that I speak a word of Swedish. (I so want to!) The second image especially draws me, throwing me into a furious bout of déjà vu...

I love wandering through Rome and people-watching all the people who are people-watching out their windows. I love weaving my way down Via del Corso, crossing back and forth from Piazza del  Popolo all the way down to Piazza Venezia. Alternating between streets so completely packed with people and tourists and others that remain utterly empty. Just as in the second photograph. With the sheets hanging from the sides of the buildings and the shutters left open the streets take on a strange movement in their silent stillness.

dark water

Stephane Suisse

2010

- to let the things i love be what i do.

- to enrich

- to forget myself and yet stay true to myself.

- to follow my instincts.
- to look a little closer.

- stop waiting for things to happen.

- to create.

- to walk slow and look up.

- to quit procrastinating.

- to be more grateful.

- to be less fearful.

- to live in light and love.

It is highly conceivable that I should try for some more concrete and quantifiable resolutions, however...

As someone who seems to eternally struggle to think of New Years Resolutions - and even when I do manage to come up with something, I'm fairly certain the last time I actually wrote them down was in 1998 - I thought I would make a sincere effort to change that. Here.
Happy 2010!

capuche

found on image spark

Waiting for winter... true winter, I guess. One more day. It's strange how winter seems to begin an entire month before it's "official." The sky is like a sheet of paper - completely blank, it may not be there at all. Everything seems to be a simple cut-out of a photograph. The ground is the same colour as the sky, but the puddles hold an upside-down world, crystal clear and utterly superficial.

a-glow

found on the blue hour

"december glow on film" -- I love the feeling this first photograph from the blue hour, really the entire entry. Warmth. It's strangely contrastive to the cold, cold weather.

I've found myself drawn to these sorts of ornate chandeliers especially since visiting the Catedral de Sta. María in Barcelona, though they are so much colder. They seem harsh by comparison to Brian's photograph. But I love their intricacy - their spindly extensions. As if they are some sort of iron spider-octopus hybrid.

it's things like this...

dénué de quoi?

"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known."

- Chuck Palahnuik

(Invisible Monsters)

found on v.

sunday

Again, today is beautiful. And I'm in Ballard. And dying to move here. Outside I can see the Sunday Farmer's Market (honestly, how have I gone 3 years in Seattle and not really ever come here?) and a quirky jug band playing on the corner (is there any other kind?). And I'm sitting here, drinking the most delicious, tea-light-warmed (yes, tea light, apricot, hibiscus, pineapple tea, which sounds a little random, but is incredible. And a crêpe à la Christy: savory, whole-wheat, filled with spinach and topped with crumbled goat cheese, jamón Serrano, and a lightly fried egg. Next to me is a couple reading each other poetry, "ahh, love." Each time the door opens, I can hear the washboard of the jug band, the tin cans, the banjo. I love that North Face jackets and perfect highlights look out of place here. Uncomfortable.

The Poets have been replaced by a young couple playing some sort of a cross between mancala and tiddlie-winks.

I'm studying for a French midterm, going through virtual flashcards, working out the pronunciation in my head, causing flash-backs to reading Eloise's French tutoring session when I was little. It was my favourite part, though all I can remember now is yelling, "ALORS!" and then a lovely little string of words that I no doubt thought meant that I spoke French... intéressant...

little boxes

la verità è noiosa, amico mio

Stills selected from Paolo Sorrentino's Le conseguenze dell'amore
La cosa peggiore che può capitare ad un uomo che trascorre molto tempo da solo è quella di non avere immaginazione. La vita, già di per sè noiosa e ripetitiva, diventa in mancanza di fantasia uno spettacolo mortale.

wishing i could freeze time

Beautiful days. Every single one. Today my parents stopped by to visit me on their way back to Portland. It was perfect. We went to Ballard. I can see myself living in Ballard. Or somewhere like it.

As it turns out, this little studio apartment has the most spectacular view of the sky. It seems there's always some fantastic cloud formation. I can't do the shapes, the colours justice. The deepest periwinkles layered like a cut-out over the most brilliant white, with just a small portion fading between the two. I love the way the airplanes flying over the lake catch the setting sunlight. I love how everything is crystal-clear.

do you want to go to the seaside?

(found) I'm sitting here in the café next to three French bikers, one wearing Chanel. When the bagel with cream cheese arrived, the man poked it and his friend prodded it. They don't exist there. Their voices throw me back. Soon I will speak, but not yet. They don't know it, but I feel almost a sense of solidarity with them. Chanel keeps saying "ba-GEHL?" in an inquisitive voice. As they leave, they leave the silverware in the paper cups, everything somewhat strewn across the table. You don't do that here. You bus your own table.

Out the window a big ball of orange fluff pulls his elderly owner down to the beach. At least the fluff would cushion her fall.

Couples vie for the desirable Nook Table. "Ohh,"they say disappointedly, "someone's already got it. "

It's funny that I'm sitting here, trying to get internet just like always in Spain and my travels. Only now it seems even harder. This café is the only place that offers free wee-fee and the network is down. Go America.

"I've got a peach french toast?"

"Bingo!"

portrait

Arvida . Richard Phillips

ohh my gawwt!

Last week my friends from Spain came to visit me in Portland. Briefly. Our visit involved Indian food at Swagat and Voodoo Donuts (where we experienced the best of the best of "Keep Portland Weird"). Really. Compared to nightlife in Spain it was pretty out there... It reminded me of something I really liked about the gaditanos. Yeah, maybe since "LA CRISIS" things aren't quite the same, but they enjoyed life just the same. In small ways. For example, I remember an old shoe-shiner (he must have been in his 70s) but he could always be seen walking around Cádiz with his box strapped to his back and his bench in his hand, all hunched-over. I remember one day I was walking back home from La Caleta and I saw him sitting outside the Italian ice cream shop where the entire town would gather, dressed to seen on the weekends. He was sitting on his bench eating the biggest ice cream cone you can imagine. He obviously couldn't afford it regularly, but it didn't matter. I loved that.
The other day I was reading Lynn Yaeger's Dressed to Chill...

" ...M., who spent over 20 years as a marketing executive for high-toned fashion companies, confesses that while she frequently spends the afternoon in gym clothes (Nike shorts in a men’s small, for the pockets; racer-back tank) she often pairs this plebeian costume with a pair of Prada heels, explaining that she doesn’t want to lose the calluses built up over a lifetime of professional stiletto wearing. And though she hasn’t stopped shopping completely — a pair of Nine West turquoise sandals recently occupied far too much of her dream life..."

Amazing. Honestly, I don't even know what to say to that. I'll have to get back to you there...

words

How my thoughts they spin me 'round
And how my thoughts they let me down
And how my thoughts they spin me 'round
And how my thoughts they let me down

How my dreams they spin me 'round
And how my dreams they let me down
And how my thoughts they spin me 'round
And how my thoughts they let me down

And then there's you
Then there's you
And then there's you
Then there's you

How my love it spins me 'round
And how my love it's let me down
And how my thoughts they spin me 'round
And how my thoughts they let me down

And then there's you
Then there's you
And then there's you
Then there's you

You know I know who that you love
I've written it on myself, if you can't tell
With a melody that climbs and then falls, then falls, then falls
Without you, without you

How my days they spin me 'round
And how today it sets me down
And how my days they spin me 'round
And how today it sets me down

Alongside you
Alongside you
Alongside you

And Then You (Greg Laswell)

rose

Things seem a little strange lately. I couldn't really say why, it's just a feeling. It feels like Spain all over again, only a little more painful. I miss you. I'm a little lost. Please tell me the soul sounds are still sounding strong.

a bit behind

I feel I'm neglecting you, and I'm so so very sorry. I promise I'll be back soon!

un día normal

è un altro giorno senza te

incapable.

in my large and empty futon. utterly incapable of sleep. i can't understand my own mind. lil cub, i miss you.