From “Commercial Interiors International” (1986)
To studio early, sitting out in the sun; remembering other days sitting in city sun listening to traffic - at the Miyako in San Francisco one late afternoon in 1980; in the courtyard at Chelsea, Old Church St, in 1984. Memories like this - the essence of a feeling trapped in an experience of colour or light - deserve to be loved and nurtured, elaborated, evolved, exaggerated, falsified, turned into metaphor.
—Brian Eno, 14 March 1995 (via eno1995)
Vintage Girl Scouts of America ‘Brownie’ pocket knife
Rene Burri, Cuadra San Cristóbal, Mexico City, 1969
Mark Rothko, Untitled (Lilac and orange over ivory), 1961
Iconic image of Princess Diana on a yacht in Portofino, Italy, in August 1997.
So I guess this is another poem
about how grateful I am to still
be alive // been on this planet
nearly two decades & the sun’s like
“holy shit, you fucking go” //
& the moon’s like “you are one
resilient bitch” // & my mom’s like
“oh thank god, I didn’t have to bury
my oldest child like my mother before me
after all” // & my dad’s like
“how old are you again?” // & I’m like,
screaming into the void, but in
the best way possible // and I guess
this is the science behind
staying alive: a constant, grueling study
of time and light // my hypothesis
was wrong // and thank the heavens for that
// or thank me, I guess // despite everything,
my body didn’t quit on me,
& I didn’t quit on me either. I’ve got
a whole sky to prove it.
—ASTRONOMY FOR THE ALIVE, by Lydia Havens (via heartmagician)
