it tolls for thee

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
- John Donne
Spent the past few days researching Ingmar Bergman for a study of the themes of pain, death and religion. That quote reminds me of Spain and somehow had to end up here this evening while watching Winter Light.

afternoon in cordoba

The horses were a little worse for wear.
While there may be few people left in the churches, candles remember the saints.

Procession

A Poem by Federico Garcia Lorca

Through the lanes
come strange unicorns.
From what fields,
from what mythological forest?
Nearer,
they look like astronomers.
Fantastic Merlins,
and the Ecce Homo.
Enchanted Durandarte.
Orlando Furioso.

morning in madrid

women in furs in 18 degrees.
buds on the trees but not in my pocket,
buds in my pocket but not on the trees.
oh spring, hurry across the atlantic.

daydream in bed

lying in bed with last nights bottle of wine loafing heavily in the back of my skull. the dark is nice. i thought i'd find somewhere to post pictures from spain and beyond. another distraction was just what i needed.