non plus one final from Tracy ANTONOPOULOS on Vimeo.
8 years ago
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
The History Of Love
Even now, all possible feelings do not yet exist, there are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination. From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world. And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges and absorbs the impact.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Warmth
and I’m alone now and when I met you it was that unexpected warmth of the universe, like I stepped in from a cold city street into a big black greenhouse, that blast of warmth and plants’ breath smelling like oranges, the universe always smells like oranges to me.
Bad Poetry
“It’s like bad poetry written by a good poet,” I am saying.
“What?” she asks. She smokes a cigarette.
“All this. The city with the lights and water and everything.”
But I don't think she gets it.
“What?” she asks. She smokes a cigarette.
“All this. The city with the lights and water and everything.”
But I don't think she gets it.
http://jsyingling.tumblr.com
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Dust Pan
...and none of them can quite put it together, none of them can seem to recognize that the moment they shared just minutes earlier, while an orchestra hung aching on its final note, and each one of them was standing in a dark hall alongside a thousand other people and anonymously applauding the achievement of a costumed stranger—that was most likely the single most honest, genuine moment of human interaction they’ll have that year. The crowd disperses quickly, and inside, a janitor pushes rose petals and candy wrappers into a dust pan.
http://jsyingling.tumblr.com/
http://jsyingling.tumblr.com/
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