for good from wicked

I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn

And we are lead to those who help us most to grow

If we let them

And we help them in return.

Well, I don't know if I believe that's true

But I know I'm who I am today because I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun

Like a stream that meets a boulder

Halfway through the wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you, 

I have been changed for good

It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made from what I've learned from you

You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have re-written mine

By being my friend

Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a skybird in a distant wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you,

I have been changed for good

nan goldin

marcel duchamp

"The creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications and thus adds his contribution to the creative act."

minimalism

the focus is entirely on the viewer's reaction; self-realization

monet's haystacks

erica jong

“Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.”

arthur danto

"In periods of artistic stability, there can be little doubt that works of art very frequently were found to have properties, the failure of which would call seriously into question their status as artworks. but that time has long passed, and just as anything can be an expression of anything, provided we know the conventions under which it is one and the causes through which its status as an expression is to be explained, so in this sense can anything be a work of art. Of course it does not follow from the fact that anything can be a work of art that everything is one. The typewriter I am writing on could have been a work of art, but it happens not to be one. What makes art so interesting a concept is that in nothing like the sense in which my typewriter could be a work of art could it be a ham sandwich, through of course some ham sandwich could be, and perhaps already is, a work of art."

(from The Transfiguration of the Commonplace)

la vie en rose by edith piaf

Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me,
Heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
And when you speak
Angels sing from above

Every day words
Seem to turn into love songs
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rose

I thought that love was just a word
They sang about in songs I heard
It took your kisses to reveal
That I was wrong, and love is real

the secret life of bees

"I can't think of anything I'd like more than to be loved."

la jetee

part two

"Nothing tells memories form ordinary moments, only afterwards do they claim rememberance on account of their scars."

the hancock building in copley square

duane michaels' things are queer

ah ha

tattoos

glittering water

where does the good go by tegan & sara

"Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?

What do you do with the left over you?

And how do you know when to let go?

Where does the good go?

Where does the good go?

Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive.

Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go.

Look my in the eye and promise no love's like our love.

Look me in the heart and unbreak broken.

It won't happen.

It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be 

real, happy and healthy, strong and calm.

Where does the good go?

How do you go when you're in love and world knows?

How do you live so happily while I am sad and broken down.

What do you say it's up for grabs now that you're on your way down.

Where does the good go?

Where does the good go?"

lomography

blue lips

foods that turn your lips different shades of the rainbow because everyone should know the true happiness that is licking bright blue lips as the ice cream man drives away.

house of leaves

known 

some 

call 

is 

air 

am

non sum qualis eram

"Which is to say--'I am not what I used to be'."

matt gauck

kurt halsey

postsecret

casimir pulaski day by sufjan stevens

"Golden rod and the 4-H stone

the things I brought you

When I found out you had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone

And he drove his car to the Navy yard

Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning through the window shade

When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade

I could see what you were reading

Oh the glory that the lord has made

And the complications you could do without

When I kissed you on the mouth

Tuesday night at the bible study

We lift our hands and pray over your body

But nothing ever happens

I remember at Michael's house

In the living room when you kissed my neck

And I almost touched your blouse

In the morning at the top of the stairs

When your father found out what we did that night

And you told me you were scared

Oh the glory when you ran outside

With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied

And you told me not to follow you

Sunday night when I cleaned the house

I find the card where you wrote it out

With the pictures of your mother

On the floor at the great divide

With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied

I am crying in the bathroom

In the morning when you finally go

And the nurse runs in with her head hung low

and the cardinal hits the window

In the morning in the window shade

On the first of March on the holiday

I thought I saw you breathing

Oh the glory that the lord has made

And the complications when I see his face

In the morning in the window

Oh the glory when he took our place

But the took my shoulders and he shook my face

And he takes and he takes and he takes."

charles river

bike riding

i like the way my back wheel drags along black, velvet ropes of wetness after i splash through puddles.

best friend

opening a soda can

crack pop fizzle crisp

kurt vonnegut

humanism and brilliance

shadows according to sylvia plath

"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in the bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadows at the back of people's eyes and smiles, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth." (The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath)

tree silhouettes

poetry of e.e. cummings

"Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. . . the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself. To be nobody-but-yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else--means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." (e.e. cummings)

michel gondry

m.c. esher

appreciation of impressionism

"Monet's preoccupation with the effects of light led him to realize that each shift in light created a different subject, as though there were no continuing reality but only a collection of moments. He began to paint in series, with each painting catching the subject at a specific moment of time, as defined by light. Here, the simple yet monumental form of a haystack seems to have absorbed the glow of the setting sun. Monet would paint it again at dawn. at noon, in the snow, in the mist. Is there such a thing as a haystack, or are there only glimpses of a haystack in time?" (Living With Art by Mark Getlein)

love (right now)

jeux d'enfants

la vie en rose

andy goldsworthy

out of an ernest desire for inspiration.

because i love too many things that would otherwise be left to let fade away.