perfect? yeah.

/ heike weber

beautiful.

it was written out across the stars

and i feel to my knees

and i raised my hands up

because i knew,

i knew i was blessed

'i don't believe in darkness, i only believe in the absence of light.'

/kristian rodriguez via phone conversation, 4:02 pm

decisions when my fingers snap

transformations

quest

life quest

finger snap decision quest.

---

gillian arndt/ genius, photographer, friend, et al

hands pull me in a million directionless directions

and all it takes is one.

(pulled from my desktop, i dont remember who shot these)

We have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening hand in hand while the blue night dropped on the world. I have seen from my window the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops. Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand. I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know. Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away? The book fell that always closed at twilight and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet. Always, always you recede through the evenings toward the twilight erasing statues. // clenched soul, by the painfully-beautiful pablo neruda

steph/ brooklyn august 2009

hand/light, olivia boone

this song kills me.

// emma liensa

these photographs make me miss home & the series i shot before leaving that ive yet to be able to scan

// hands

silent stories by audrey kawasaki

been reading a great book i bought on the street this weekend in brooklyn called 'ways of seeing' by john berger. i was drawn to the book because of the title & the choice of cover image, the painting the key of dreams by magritte. ive been really into magritte the past couple weeks and my dreams have been becoming more and more vivid again so i took it as a sign i was meant to read it. the image is accompanied by this text on the book cover:

'seeing comes before words. the child looks and recognizes before it can speak. but there is also another sense in which seeing comes before words. it is seeing which establishes our place in the surrounding world; we explain that world with words, but words can never undo the fact that we are surrounded by it. the relation between what we see and what we know is never settled. the surrealist painter magritte commented on this always-present gap between words and seeing in a painting called the key of dreams.'

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

// anyone lived in a pretty how town, ee cummings

found, and very true (though i usually dont explicitly show it)

mark peckmezian via booooooom

my dreams have started exploding in my head again.

been really into classical music lately.

this piece conjures up a million emotions/things in my mind.

'i'm an eye. a mechanical eye. i, the machine, show you a world the way only i can see it. i free myself for today and forever from human immobility. i'm in constant movement. i approach and pull away from objects. i creep under them. i move alongside a running horse's mouth. i fall and rise with the falling and rising bodies. this is i, the machine, maneuvering in the chaotic movements, recording one movement after another in the most complex combinations.

freed from the boundaries of time and space, i co-ordinate any and all points of the universe, wherever i want them to be. my way leads toward the creation of a fresh perception of the world. thus i explain in a new way the world unknown to you.'

// from an article written by revolutionary film director dziga vertov, 1923

/ ethereal hands by peau, polanoid.net

i died for beauty -- but was scarce
adjusted in the tomb
when one who died for truth, was lain
in an adjoining room --

he questioned softly "why i failed"?
"for beauty", i replied --
"and i -- for truth -- themself are one --
we brethren, are", he said --

and so, as kinsmen, met a night --
we talked between the rooms --
until the moss had reached our lips --
and covered up -- our names --

// emily dickinson

speaking of scarce, my blog has been just that lately. ive been writing and photographing a whole lot. working on a website update as we speak, keeping my fingers crossed that it will be updated by monday morning.

today i cried for beauty.

[i-skey-piz-uhm]

im in love with this song right now, it feels beautiful to the touch.

reflection hand/ irene l

dear barnes & noble union square,

please stop conditioning the air. its 30 below in here and i cant feel my hands as i write you these words. id like to spend more time editing on my computer before my battery runs out, as you so conveniently have no outlets in here, than discussing how i need a parka with the man next to me. thanks!

ps its kind of weird that you hire someone to watch people in the cafe

just remembered rilo kiley + found this song, i hadnt heard it before.

(life feels like this)

// photo from quarry adventure back in may, syracuse ny

//shot stills for a friends video shoot today

brooklyn, ny/ 19:23

evaporation

air talk

it's sad that the air is the only

thing we share.

no matter how close we get to each other,

there is always air between us.

it's also nice that we share the air.

no matter how far apart we are,

the air links us.

// yoko ono, from lisson gallery brochure 1967

yep.

via somethingintellectual

shawn kuruneru

(04 july 2009, sister/cousin, bodhisattvas in training)

today was a cleansing day--

a sure way to realign your spirit:
drink a cup of coffee + read the dhammapada.

'want nothing.

where there is desire,

say nothing.

happiness or sorrow-

whatever befalls you,

walk on

untouched, unattached.

do not ask for family or power or wealth,

either for yourself or another.

can a wise man wish to rise unjustly?

few cross over the river.

most are stranded on this side.

on the riverbank they run up and down.

but the wise man, following the way,

crosses over, beyond the reach of death.

he leaves the dark way

for the way of light.

he leaves his home, seeking

happiness on the hard road.

free from desire,

free from possessions,

free from the dark places of the heart.

free from attachment and appetite,

following the seven lights of awakening,

and rejoicing greatly in his freedom,

in this world the wise man

becomes himself a light,

pure, shining, free.'

a cocoon grows in brooklyn

hand anatomy

ffffound via constant seige

i remember stumbling upon this a few months back, and i just rediscovered it. thinking about getting the outline of the tri-force relic symbol tattooed really small on my wrist, yet to figure out if this is a good idea or a bad one. but ive always liked zelda, especially the ocarina of time. never really played it myself, but i liked watching my brothers play when i was little. theres something extremely romantic about the game/concept of zelda. the whole ocarina thing, time, love, tri-force energy - it really gets me.

'invention is mostly this kind of subtle, inevitable thing as people get closer to the beauty of their invention. they get narrower and more particular in it. invention has a lot to do with a certain kind of light some people have and with the print quality and the choice of subject. it's a million choices you make. it's luck in a sense, or even ill luck. some people hate a certain kind of complexity. others only want that complexity. but none of that is really intentional. i mean it comes from your nature, your identity. we've all got an identity. you can't avoid it. it's what's left when you take everything else away. i think the most beautiful inventions are the ones you don't think of.'

// diane arbus

isn't she a

ware that life(who

never grows old)

is always beau

iful and

that nobod

y beauti

ful ev

er hur

ries

// excerpt from a poem by ee cummings

coney island, 01 august 2009

interesting day, met man in charge of music for saturday night live (purple shirt) as i was filming kids playing in water, had a good conversation about life/work, saw lots of beauty, shot a mini series of people in water (some photographs below)