Wednesday, February 23, 2011

the world ablaze

"the best and the worst", by charles bukowski

in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst

falling through the sky
firing squads
that's the best

thinking of India
looking at popcorn stands
watching the bull get the matador
that's the best

boxed lightbulbs
an old dog scratching
peanuts in a celluloid bag
that's the best

spraying roaches
a clean pair of stockings
natural guts defeating natural talent
that's the best

in front of firing squads
throwing crusts to seagulls
slicing tomatoes
that's the best

rugs with cigarette burns
cracks in sidewalks
waitresses still sane
that's the best

my hands dead
my heart dead
adagio of rocks
the world ablaze
that's the best
for me.

(image via popartmachine)

Monday, February 21, 2011

two-tone poem

(atlanta de cadenet, image via oh fashion models)

(vanessa paradis, image via prickly thorn sweetly worn)

(isabel lucas, image via object fashion)

oh, just exactly the kind of hair i like.

Saturday, February 19, 2011


(image via nydailynews)

(image via xkookymonsterx)

(image via marlene44)

(image via nancyrommelmann)

"you know, when i woke up this morning i had a realization about myself...what i realized is that at some point i became dirty harry. i couldn't be blondie anymore, so i became dirty harry."
—debbie harry quoted from the no exit tour book

11 songs for flesh, bones and blood

Friday, February 18, 2011

find the wound

(image via here)

today i read an interview at one story with writer josh weil. when asked about some of the best writing advice he has ever gotten, he said that his mentor mark slouka told him "find the wound."
i think that's the most perfect advice i've ever heard for a writer. because in the end, that's what we are always after...finding a way to get to the inside, where the throbbing is...

the wild ones

james dean and co-star cory allen in a scene from "rebel without a cause"
(image via the independent)

paul simonon of the clash
(image via snuh tumblr)

from bruce davidson's photo essay, "brooklyn gang"
(image via surrender)

damn, rebellion can look good.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

open roads

(image via

this is a shot of laurie bird and james taylor in the movie two-lane blacktop.
it makes me think of open roads, afternoon shadows, body heat, and how good someone else can feel.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

a field day

(image via cat's_in_blue's flickr)

prairie blazing star
(image via aok)

(image via planted at home)

i want to get out of the city. i want to sit in one of these fields under a bright sun, and eat sliced fruit and drink lemonade. i want the hours to move slow, the day to be drowsy. i don't want to think about anything that needs to get done. i want to blink and squint and sigh, and have it feel like forever. if anything happens I want it to be a surprise. but i wouldn't mind if nothing happened. if there was just a field and a day and the sun...that would be enough.

Monday, February 7, 2011

animal tracks

photograph by andrew zuckerman
(via animal talk)

photograph by tim flach
(via famhove)

photograph by evan kafka
(via feature shoot)

i grew up with loads of animals. some of them quite unusual— at different times my mother brought into our lives: a donkey, a jackal, spotted civets, a yellow-throated marten, goats... but the usual suspects were ever-present— dogs, cats, horses, birds, bunnies, guinea pigs, mice... i very much enjoy the company of animals. they have entirely individualistic personalities, and i find them endlessly entertaining to watch and interact with. i think these 'portraits' are incredibly powerful— they capture the force of character that lives inside those strange and wonderful animal bodies.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

rave on!

(image via the citrus report)

rehearsing at the Trocadero, 1958
(image via

buddy holly and waylon jennings in a photobooth at new york's central station, jan 23, 1959
(image via witlox's flickr)

charles hardin holley, better known as buddy holly, was only 22 when he died. it's almost painful to imagine where his life would have taken him if he hadn't gotten on that plane. the things he would have done...but still, despite being so young, he somehow managed to leave so much behind. rock n' roll just wouldn't be the same without him...and man, did the kid have style...