I love this song.

16mm color film, extremely overexposed with lots of blur.
Footage is my own. Shot with an Eclair. Subject is my sister.
I never found a sound I wanted to pair if with until now.

and what the hell do you think you can decide upon, act upon, or base your personal philosophy upon if at the sight of a tall reticent poetic genius you feel sick, tense, excited, overthrown, eager, wanting to redeem horrible infirmary impression, hot and cold, and desperately near tears.

where, where, to find that quality I long for that will grow goodly and green for fifty years – is it mind??
God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts. The doubts of past convictions only cast aspersions present assurances and maliciously suggest that those, too, shall pass into the realm of the null and void.

–and then tonight the sight of the poetic one, the wanting . . . what? to conquer? to talk? this first . . . after the "don't kill me when you make love to me" . . . echoing in my ears.

oh a love growing sharing would be so good, so uncomplex. and in these rapid most complex days of speed, mood, and psychology, it is relatively impossible to "know" anyone, as it is impossible to "know" oneself.

one relies so on single symbols which supposedly presage large assumptions. he goes to ballets ergo, he must be sensitive & artistic. he quotes poetry, ergo he must be a kindred spirit. he reads joyce, ergo he must be a genius.

I am in danger of wanting my personal absolute to be a demigod of a man, and as there aren't many around, I often unconsciously manufacture my own. and then, I retreat and revel in poetry and literature where the reward value is tangible and accepted. I really do not think deeply. really deeply. I want a romantic nonexistent hero.

If only I knew what I wanted I could try to see about getting it. I want to live hard and good with a hard, good man. clean brilliant and strong is how and with whom I want to live. and tonight, oh god, I think that I am mortal, unthinking, unworthy – and that men on the fringe are too far off in time and space and too like unloved and faithless, and though love be a day, I am afraid it will be only that; and though love be a day, I am afraid also that it will be more.

– Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath











source: Contemporary Photography: Emmet Gowin

I love the Everly Brothers.
Even though their songs are largely about heartache, they still put a smile on my face.
It's their melodies and harmonies.
Or maybe it's the nostalgia from my childhood...

I Wonder if I Care as Much
Love Hurts
Cryin' in the Rain

All I Have to do is Dream and Cathy's Clown are my favorites.

“Yes, I was infatuated with you; I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy.
Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams.
And you weren’t having any of those.”
– Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Her writings and paintings have continued to inspire me.

"To progress in life you must give up the things you do not like. Give up doing the things that you do not like to do. You must find the things that you do like. The things that are acceptable to your mind."

"When I think of art I think of beauty. Beauty is the mystery of life. It is not in the eye it is in the mind. In our minds there is awareness of perfection."


source: yours truly, at The Art Institute of Chicago

Fay Andrada's jewelry is so simple and elegant.
Her Tyyne ring is especially lovely.






images: fay andrada
via: wikstenmade