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le ballon rouge
Ahhh, this. It’s beautiful and you should watch it. It’s about childhood and balloons and Paris and colors and more. Directed by Albert Lamorisse in 1965. According to imdb, the only short film to win a non-short film Oscar, ever (it won Best Original Screenplay).
svefn-g-englar
This is something beautiful, and if you haven’t seen it before I would like to share it with you. From fat cat’s site: Director : Agust Jacobsson and Sigur Ros Date : January 2001 This unforgettable and award-winning clip, conceived by and supervised by the band with direction by Agust Jacobsson features the Perlan special-needs [...]
springtime in austin
Things have felt especially sensory-spiked the past week — could be that it’s finally started raining again. That loamy, damp spring smell is always a bit of a high in and of itself. Incidentally, Demeter has1 a fragrance called “Wet Garden” that almost kinda approximates it (unfortunately the scent evaporates way too quickly, as is [...]
hot pink, an ode
Inside closed eyes lies the canvas for day & night dreams: pools of milky black offset by the ghosting of blood vessels, nerves, and other assorted arithmetic patterns that point to a greater natural language. Faintly purple bursts fade to strawberry whorls. A fingerprint, a blot, a parade of sunspots. Even entrenched in the neon [...]
and then, tonight
The future is flat, or so I thought… noting wryly that it sounded like a slogan for tricked-out televisions. Staring at my laptop, my eyes crossed slightly – lapsing from the C L U T T E R, this present-day clutter of information masquerading as acquired goods (stacks of CDs, DVDs, books, photographs), to rooms, [...]
simultaneity
To continue on this previous line of thinking: …These highways are hundreds of arteries, impartially channeling us from point A to B. And the roadside motels are anonymous. I always look in the mirror across from the musty bed, trying to imagine the reflection of each person who has stood in front of it. And then there [...]
everything you do is a balloon
Life shifts in small handfuls of time. From north to south, the point of origination feels so different from the destination. I like the in-betweens. I like the ride, the feeling of being nowhere in particular. From the Holland Tunnel to the farm-to-market roads, inside the bookends rests a childlike state. I am bound to [...]
the pink train
Today I boarded the B train only to find it transformed into a pink confectioner’s delight of public transport. My eyes then fixed upon the smiling passengers. This must be a dream, I thought, as the sweet scent of nitrous oxide filled the air.
