THE THIRD MIND

Back from a week away in Long Island, bopping around Brooklyn and being generally overheated in NYC. Went to see an exhibit about a Burroughs and Gyson's book The Third Mind that was never published in it's entirity, pretty dreamy but I was a little bit too space cadety due to antibiotics, painkillers, dehydration and downers at the time to explain any of it here now.

Fun other finds: under the sea tapestry purse, book of coloured Bosch plates, Dorothy Parker and Tolstoy short stories, REAL ARIZONA DENIM overhalls with a horse logo, Marc Jacobs 70's style running shorts (so cheap!!) and much more.

Bleary eyed memories of blunts over that aweful concrete skyline coruscating like the hoor it is.

half in love with easeful death

monuments in miniature

My Supreme Teen Dreams

Thought I'd compile a few of my current teen idols to celebrate my last days as a TEENage.

(Also am emptying disc drive)

P.s Hem's cat look likes Taffy.

Meditations in the Mists of Mania

Quietly-

I wait for the change to occur.

I want to drain the poisons from my pores

effortless-

it wont be.

turn down blinds to sleep it off-

or mimic slumber.

oh please would you

take these knots from my back

please do not take the cat

lie down in the sun

to resume nothing.

sweet repose and underclothes.

Lynch, Literature, and Obsession

Three commercials by David Lynch inspired by Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby and D.H Lawrence's Sons and Lovers.

They were made in 1988.

Hem is of course ma favourite but they're all delightfully smutty.

Tony Soprano is A Wild Thing

The Lake District,England

High Tea for Toddlers

Like Mother Like Daughter

Poppy at Cambridge
What you know about Wales?

Mother Africa

Pictures of my mother's childhood in Africa featuring a dapper Poppy and Nana looking like a misplaced welsh rose. Oh colonialism, thanks for the memories.
My mother was baptized in that straw roof Cathedral.
Poppy was hard at work in Lake Malawi having fish species named for him, the usual.

Sonnet
What my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows it boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

Edna St. Vincent

Bukowski on People and Poetry

Let it die. Let there be a new beginning.

Rebecca Stevenson

Werner Herzog on The Jungle

"It is the same misery that is all around us. The trees here are in misery. The birds are in misery I don't think they sing they just screech in pain...We in comparison to that enormous articulation we only sound and look like badly pronounced and half finished sentences out of a stupid surburban novel, a cheap novel and we have to become humble in front of this overwhelming misery, overwhelming fornication, overwhelming growth and overwhelming lack of order. Even the stars up here in the sky look like a mess. There is no harmony in the universe, we have to get acquainted with this idea."
The Obscenity of Nature.

God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot

Passage from F.'s Long Letter in Leonard Cohen's Beautiful Losers, Perfomed by Buffy Sainte Marie.
The images are a you tube creation...

Dream Bedroom

Having A Coke With You- Frank O Hara

pure vegetable kingdom