smoke signals - flashing mirrors - messages in bottles - carrier pigeons - flags in the air - hoofbeats on the ground

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

dear melissa

"You know art is why I get up in the morning, but my definition ends there, you know it doesn't seem fair."

Listening to any Ani DiFranco will always remind me of driving around in your death car around cornfields while you repeat all of the spoken parts with perfect rhythm and inflection and tone.

"The butter melts out of habit, you know the toast isn't even warm."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Monday, January 17, 2011

dear melissa

So It Begins from Joseph R Varisco on Vimeo.

it takes so long to get from here to there

Dear Joe

The Original, for me, is this

As he dresses Piero's corpse, he pauses to look up. He tells the corpse, and us, "It's going well. We are winning."

After 10+ years of watching this movie, I maintain that it is my favorite. It's silly and awkward and over-stylized and I adore every last minute of it. It will explain many things.


your tumblrgays have fucking nothing on Walken.

I suggest you screen this flick at your next party.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

dear melissa

"There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning."
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson

dear melissa

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought, there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.
Frida Kahlo

Monday, January 10, 2011

Monday, January 03, 2011

dear melissa

Melissa worry not for me. All of this has happened before and will happen again and if it doesnt than that is ok too.

It is not all one blue-eyeshadow mess. I know it is fleeting. I know it is passing and is gone as fast as it took to type this sentence. What becomes lasting is the work that survives for whatever reason, mostly the work with meaning. Much of that is yet to be unveiled or has not yet made it to post.

I carry sapphires in my shoes, rubies in my eyes and the emeralds you gave me in my pockets. Quite the nonassembled invisible crown.