BACCARAT

I am a beautiful monster
who shares his secrets with the wind.
What I love most in others
is myself.

I am a beautiful monster;
I have the sin of virtue for support.
My pollen stains the roses
from New York to Paris.

I am a beautiful monster
whose face conceals his countenance.
My senses have only one thought:
a frame without a picture!

I am a beautiful monster
with a velodrome for a bed;
transparent cards
populate my dreams.

I am a beautiful monster
who sleeps with himself.
There are only seven in the world
and I want to be the biggest.

—Francis Picabia, from I Am A Beautiful Monster: Poetry, Prose, and Provocation

Daha fazla fotoğraf için…

hayatımın genelinde de böyle

hissediyorum.

Bu kapana kısılmışlık hiç sona ermeyecek mi?

Alice Harikalar Diyarinda.

Aklımdan çıkmıyor…

Kimi dinlemeye gittim?
Fatima Spar und die Freedom Fries (19 Mart 2010)

Ghetto’da.
Ghetto’da konser olmazmış. Çok kalabalıkmış.İnsanlar çok kabaymış. Kavga, harala gürele, uğultu ve gürültüde müzik dinlenmezmiş. Ama Şegül ve Gökçe bi numaralarmış.

Bir ara konser fotografı da ekleyecegim.

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

e.e. cummings