Anonymous

I don't know where I found this, but I like it:

Sylvia Plath - Elm

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root;
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.

Is it the sea you hear in me,
Its dissatisfactions?
Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness?

Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.

All night I shall gallup thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.

Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons?
This is rain now, the big hush.
And this is the fruit of it: tin white, like arsenic.

I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.
Scorched to the root
My red filaments burn and stand,a hand of wires.

Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs.
A wind of such violence
Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek.

The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me
Cruelly, being barren.
Her radience scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her.

I let her go. I let her go
Diminshed and flat, as after radical surgery.
How your bad dreams possess and endow me.

I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.

I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.

Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrevables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?

I am incapable of more knowledge.
What is this, this face
So murderous in its strangle of branches?--

Its snaky acids kiss.
It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults
That kill, that kill, that kill.

Michael Garlington

See his website for more.

Michael and Michael Have Issues

Holy crap! I'm super excited about this:

Michael Ian Black and Michael Showalter! I was first introduced to these guys (plus David Wain) in the Stella shorts, which are completely off-the-wall skits featuring cameos by Paul Rudd, Sam Rockwell, and Bradley Cooper, (among others.) Their comedy is absurd, perverted, sporadic, and completely hilarious. Unfortunately, I haven't kept up with their recent projects, but I saw a preview for this today and nearly leapt out of my seat. Click on the poster for more.

Also, check out Stella if you like ridiculous yet intelligent humor, (it's so stupid it's funny.)

Michael: Think of all the great things that have come out of this country!
Michael: Rugby.
David: Chicken Tikka Masala.
Michael: Chinese People.
Michael: Ass.
David: Harry Potter.
Michael: Rubber balls and liquor.
Michael: Then I say something.

Pardon the Personal Territory

He's not thinking of me today. The clasp on my necklace stays high up on my neck, unflinching. It never swivels down towards my chest--the surest sign that someone, somewhere is thinking of you. I always attribute the superstition to my lover.

I suppose it's understandable this afternoon. Why would he want to think of my dismal, moping attitude? He is highly opposed to depression, being that he is a constantly optimistic Sagittarius--one who, no matter how many times he's let down, will still have something to look forward to. I wish I could adopt a similar attitude. Today, I've adopted the defense mechanism of locking up. I refuse to blame or want or fight. I can't say I haven't cried. I can't say that I haven't gone through at least a thousand versions of the same conversation in my head...every outcome undesirable, some to the extent that my stomach cramps up with anxiety and fear for the future.

I keep picturing him out and about, flirting, conversing, pretending, (or maybe convincingly pretending,) that our unsettling conversation this morning is not pressing against the back of his neck. Tightening, a series of muscles. A highway of brain stem matter and stress. I can imagine such a headache, I have one on a monthly basis, sometimes stretching for days. My biggest gripe for the here and now is my drowsiness. An all-consuming desire to sleep away the desire to stay awake and analyze.

What an unfortunate mess. An optimistic Sagittarius that has no desire to explore. Europe? Too dirty. Besides,he was born in Germany. What does it matter that relatives exist on the coasts of the United Kingdom? What could possibly be interesting about Hartlepool? The Outback, now there's a place he'd like to see. Perhaps. But the sprawling dust of Fort Davis? "Can I fish there? What's in it for me? Besides, well, I've any number of excuses. The landscapers, money, oh and by the way, the 4th of July has always been my, you know, party holiday."

Thus, my desire to mope. The overwhelming burden of uncommon ground. It's symptoms are infinite and merciless. When asked my plans for the weekend, I simply say, "To sulk." Nothing else seems as simple or as natural as a dive into that warm familiar bath. Perhaps I can pretend, convincingly, that all is well and good. And perhaps it will be so. But it will surely be hours after the water has turned cold, and my fingers are as wrinkled as old prunes.

Daniel Merriam

One of my all time favorite artists. I first saw his work on display at the Satori Arts Temple in Eureka Springs, Arkansas, and have been engrossed ever since.








Check out his website for more.

Tees

Every once in a while, I go through a phase where I want to buy clever tees. I really only wear tees on lazy weekends, so I rarely follow through on my desire, but if I decided to, these would be some of my picks:





I especially like the last one. "Arrested Development" was such an awesome show.

If you wanna see more, visit Snorg Tees, 6 Dollar Shirts, Noise Bot, and/or Palmer Cash.

The Island of Eternal Spring

Madeira, Portugal is a place I would like to visit one day:






The pictures above can be found at the island's official tourism site.

Vintage Prints

Today I found some neat, antique Alice in Wonderland prints that I wouldn't mind ordering:




I've been really attracted to vintage prints lately. Dover Publications offers some great collections of royalty free images for creative use, but I need more time and inspiration. I have one of their Anatomical collections, and the illustrations are awesome, but I have yet to come up with anything artistic enough to print and/or frame.

A daydream

I wish I lived in a forest at the beginning of autumn. Constantly. A quaint house made of stone, with a chimney spouting smoke. Always. My bedroom would be sage green; fresh herbs sprouting on the window sill. The subtle scent of basil, oregano, and rosemary. Tiny textured vases; deep rich soil...the look of coffee grounds. I'd have a wall of books: rows of encyclopedias, science and philosophy, dreams and spells. Thumbed through, but not worn. Some read, some halfway understood; only a handful put into practice.

In the mornings, the sun would filter in through leaves and needles. Arousing and quiet. Shadows cast on milk-white skin. I can imagine rising, slowly, effortlessly. Bathing in a porcelain tub, lions feet delicately poised on tile, maybe linoleum, hopefully wood. The slow drip of fresh water. The song of a hundred birds.

Footprints puttering down the hall. The aroma of fresh bacon, the sizzling of eggs. His back turned away from me, silent, but both of us aware of the knowledge that we are content. Happy and full. He wears no shirt, no shoes, no mask of any kind. Only the cast iron calm of honesty. We share a smile the way friends share a hug. I watch my coffee steam. I watch his hands butter toast, methodically, gracefully. I can imagine the delicate tink of silverware on china. The surge of potential and hope. The validity of matter and breath. Creation echoing in a finely tuned ear. An imagined ear. A state of being.

Bathroom Vanities

Here are some interesting bathroom vanities by Italbrass found on this site. Definitely out of my price range, but fun to look at nonetheless. Click to see larger:

B. Berenika

Lots of great images here; it was hard to pick favorites.

Away We Go

I'm not sure how this movie will be, but it's a combination of director Sam Mendes, (Revolutionary Road, American Beauty,) John Krasinski with facial hair and glasses (!), and Maya Rudolph. It looks delightful. Check out the trailer below:

Ayn Rand

From Atlas Shrugged:

"Productiveness is your acceptance of morality, your recognition of the fact that you choose to live-that productive work is the process by which man’s consciousness controls his existence, a constant process of acquiring knowledge and shaping matter to fit one’s purpose, of translating an idea into physical form, of remaking the earth in the image of one’s values-that all work is creative work if done by a thinking mind, and no work is creative if done by a blank who repeats in uncritical stupor a routine he has learned from others- that your work is yours to choose, and the choice is as wide as your mind, that nothing more is possible to you and nothing less is human-that to cheat your way into a job bigger than your mind can handle is to become a fear-corroded ape on borrowed motions and borrowed time, and to settle down into a job that requires less than your mind’s full capacity is to cut your motor and sentence yourself to another kind of motion: decay-that your work is the process of achieving your values, and to lose your ambition for values is to lose your ambition to live-that your body is a machine, but your mind is its driver, and you must drive as far as your mind will take you, with achievement as the goal of your road-that the man who has no purpose is a machine that coasts downhill at the mercy of any boulder to crash in the first chance ditch, that the man who stifles his mind is a stalled machine slowly going to rust, that the man who lets a leader prescribe his course is a wreck being towed to the scrap heap, and the man who makes another man his goal is a hitchhiker no driver should ever pick up-that your work is the purpose of your life, and you must speed past any killer who assumes the right to stop you, that any value you might find outside your work, any other loyalty or love, can be only travelers you choose to share your journey and must be travelers going on their own power in the same direction."

Greg "Craola" Simkins

Lovely surrealistic art by Greg Simkins: