the last meditations

my big sis handed me a little tiny book a couple weeks ago and said "argue with him...but read it." i've never argued with an author before, let alone argued with him and yet kept on reading his work fervently. i've been reading like one meditation a day, and its probably the most thought-provoking book i've ever read. J. Francis Stroud, S.J. says to "take each one of these meditations and carry it with you throughout your day. Challenge his ideas, mull over his thoughts, and then be silent." 
here's a quote that struck me today. i'll most likely be randomly putting down quotes from this book from time to time...


"What then is happiness? Very few people know and no one call tell you, because happiness cannot be described. Can you describe light to people who have been sitting in darkness all their lives? Can you describe reality to someone in a dream? Understand your darkness and it will vanish; then you will know what light is. Understand your nightmare for what it is and it will stop; then you will wake up to reality. Understand your false beliefs and they will drop; then you will know the taste of happiness.."



The Way To Love - The Last Meditations of Anthony De Mello.

tennessee whisky

out of nashville, tennessee. i miss their old lead vocalist, chris stapleton, (he did have an awesome beard...and that hat), but gary nichols is amazing as well. regardless i love to sing along to their soulful bluegrass songs.

midnight train to memphis - the steeldrivers

californian "folk punk" or not, its catchy american folk/blues and borderline bluegrass.

old number seven - the devil makes three

southern rock? black keys? murder by death is closely akin to both. good road trip music.

a second opinion - murder by death

'52 ford - murder by death

and an old school classic one that i love...

God's gonna cut you down - johnny cash

and some pics i took with the sibs when i visited home last weekend.

quick snap of joe's new truck

i'll show you the life of the mind.

    last weekend Professor Thomas S.Hibbs (a distinguished professor of Ethics & Culture and also Dean of the Honors College at Baylor University) visited Ave Maria University - at which I am a sophomore - and gave an excellent talk. I was so excited because his talk was on the films of the Coen brothers, of which I happen to be a huge fan. One of my fellow sophomores (and fellow lit majors) interviewed him about his talk, which went as follows: 

Leslie: What led you to choose to speak on the Coen brothers’ work?

Dr. Hibbs: I think the Coen brothers are an interesting set of filmmakers in contemporary film. They’ve operated in various genres of film from Westerns to neo-noir to straight comedy. They make films that bridge the gap between independent and popular film. Often, they make movies based upon novels. For True Grit, they went back to the original book. Also, they have used Cormac McCarthy novels. The Coens operate in an interesting niche in film, between literary text and the visual genre that is film. They also raise interesting philosophical questions in many of their movies. As a philosopher who works on film, I find them interesting for that reason as well.

Leslie: I know that Blood Simple was the Coen brothers’ directorial debut and they came out with True Grit recently. How do you think the Coen brothers’ work has evolved over time?

Dr. Hibbs: I don’t see a clear line of development in the Coen films. They strike me as filmmakers who really search for interesting ideas. It is interesting to compare them to other contemporary filmmakers, including Shyamalan and Nolan. A development in philosophical ideas can be seen in Nolan’s films, for example in The Dark Knight and Momento. Shyamalan strikes on one or two big ideas but hasn’t found stories to sustain interesting movies. The Coen brothers are different. They have no clear philosophical development, but rather go in search of interesting ideas, giving their own twist and take to these stories.

Leslie: What are your thoughts on Blood Simple and what is its relationship to the rest of the Coen brothers’ work?

Dr. Hibbs: The Coen films are beholden to classical film noir; Fargo has elements of this. Also, in No Country for Old Men, they play off classic noir themes. Blood Simple does this probably more than any of the others. It is a crime film depicting a culture immersed in criminality, lust, greed and violence. It’s a culture where it is difficult to tell who’s good and who’s bad. The characters are trapped in worlds that they are trying to figure out. Within the Coen films are stylistic echoes of borrowing from classic noir.

In neo-noir, which emerged in the 1970s, filmmakers do something different. One real difference is that filmmakers in the ‘70s were more consciously imitating noir. Films were not really called noir until the 1940s. By the ‘70s and ‘80s, filmmakers were consciously making noir as we know it.

In Blood Simple there is a dark, even nihilistic comic element not as present in classic noir. Blood Simple raises philosophical questions including how comedy changes when noir is incorporated. Are we laughing at or with the characters in this film? Are there innocent human beings in the world? Is there a possibility of justice in this world?

Another theme in Blood Simple has to do with its title. The premise of the film is based upon a crime-sighting theory that no matter how callous a criminal is, in the moment of committing murder, the supposed criminal will lose control, go “blood simple” and make a mistake, betraying him or herself. The film calls into question whether characters can get away with criminality. There is a tendency in modern noir, say in Chinatown or in Body Heat, to depict characters that get away with crime. The Coen brothers huddle close to this camp.

Leslie: In your book Arts of Darkness, you discuss the redemptive quality of the noir genre. In what way does Blood Simple, as a neo-noir film, have a redemptive quality?

Dr. Hibbs: Blood Simple doesn’t have that quality. True Grit might be said have this. O Brother, Where Art Thou? may also offer a clear understanding of justice. Blood Simple is more problematic because it flirts with a kind of nihilism. Although, there may be some level of justice to be found in the film. In Arts of Darkness, I argue that there is a quest for redemption in classical noir. From the ‘70s onward there was a split in noir. Some films carry on the quest for redemption while others show a preponderance of nihilistic noir. Blood Simple is of the latter category.

  during his talk on these films by Joel and Ethan, Professor Gibbs stated how they are always faithful to the source. For example, in True Grit, the dialect, plot, events, and characters were so accurate to the original novel. I remember a lot of people leaving the the theater after True Grit, mumbling about how oddly scripted it seemed and how awkward the characters' speech was, but that's how it was written in the book, and as usual with the Coen brothers, they stayed true to the original source. I say kudos to them on that. They are also very unpredictable in their filming if they have written the story themselves, rather than pulling from a novel. Every film I have seen by them has had a deeply philosophical thesis, even if not observed immediately. Almost all their films require some studying and close reviewing in order to find the significant metaphors and hidden hypothesis'. There is frequently a fundamental battle between lust and greed, with the continual triumph of greed. Just as a premonitory warning, the greed's gonna win. Another aspect of their filming that I like is that we often participate in a disorientation of perspective with the primary character, i.e.; the camera is focused on a telephone, we see a hand pick it up and as the camera pans out the window we hear the voice. There is a feeling of disconnection with reality that the character is experiencing that carries over to the audience. Many of their films are reminiscent of the classic noir films of the '40's and '50's. The finality to these films were democratic in a very sobering way...nobody wins. Like all classic noir films that were centered around criminal investigation or sexual motivations, the Coens' films and characters reflect these occasionally. For example, in Barton Fink, like the general motif in most classic noir films, the criminal undoes himself. The "life of the mind" is damnation. At the end of Barton Fink John Goodman as Charlie Meadows is running through the burning hotel, exposed as the crimnal, and yelling "I'll show you the life of the mind! I'll show you the life of the mind!" It really is disturbing and gives the impression of neo-noir films, which basically treated the theme of mental dispossession within stylistic and tonal frameworks derived from classic film noir. Just a fore-warning for those who wish to be writers.. do NOT watch Barton Fink. Basically, it depicts the mind as hell, with the platonic writer eternally tormented on this earth and only able to write if he suffers from great internal, mental and spiritual pain. When I finished the movie I couldn't sleep and was both disturbed, scared stiff to ever pursue writing...but also, deeply inspired to write. Kinda paradoxical, but it definitely stirred my emotions and affected my perception of writing and those who write by profession. An interesting detail I noticed about the Coen's is their pointed attention to dialects. stiff western grammar and dialect in True Grit, oddly funny mid-western Minnesota accents in Fargo, the semi-hippie "dude" californian surfer speech in the Big Labowski, the New York dialect of Barton Fink, the deep southern drawls in Oh Brother Where Art Thou, and so on. They are also all about integrating natural rhythm, community, and comedy into their films, especially in metaphorical, symbolic, or over-toning methods. I highly respect these men, the actors they frequently use in their films, and I strongly recommend you to take the time to sit back and watch a stunning magnum opus of the universally esteemed Coen brothers. 
(I also commend them on their film composition choice: Carter Burwell. He composed around a dozen of their films.)

live like you were dyin'

my drill master showed me this video. my eyes were glued of course, and it brings tears everytime i watch this routine. stacy westfall, you are my hero.

just plain effortless beauty and passion: 
Stacy Westfall in 2006 in Quarter Horse Congress Free Style Reining...bridleless and bareback.

leaning on the everlasting arms - iris dement

I respect Westfall and admire her skills and endurance so much. If you don't know her, she's a professional horse trainer and rider. Her specialty is in reining. She was actually the first woman to compete in the "Road to the Horse" competition. And she won it. In the above video she won the Quarter Horse Congress Free Style Reining, as you can guess after you finish it. And the gorgeous black mare that she's riding? Yea, I fell in love too. Her name is Whizards Baby Doll, aka Roxy. Her story became so popular that she was interviewed by Degeneres on her show in 2008.

  

Her sick record: 
-1997 Graduate of University of Findlay
-2003 NRHA Futurity Freestyle Champion..bridleless.
-2005 All American Quarter Horse Congress Freestyle Futurity Champion
-2005 NRHA Futurity Freestyle Champion
-2006 Road to the Horse colt Starting Champion
-2006 All American Quarter Horse Congress Freestyle Champion..bridleless and bareback.
-2006 Named to The University of Findlay’s Western Equestrian Wall of Fame

you can check her out at her page, http://www.westfallhorsemanship.com/

walked a hundred miles in tobacco skin

something pretty - patrick park

felt like sharing one of my favorite american folk artists, Patrick Park. son of a poet, native of colorado, he rules indie/folk musicians. these two are my favorite of all of his songs.

how the heart grows wicked - patrick park

 












and another favorite american-based folk band: Blitzen Trapper. been musicians since the age of three (points for that), are a dylan-esque ensemble (more points), and are based out of Portland (more points).

black river killer - blitzen trapper

 

 












furr - blitzen trapper

le livre des rêves

  i have been writing my dreams down in my little Book of Dreams lately. sometimes i draw pictures to try and convey the imagery of them. they are like elaborate stories in themselves, like mini movies; a creation in themselves. the imagery and atmosphere is always very similar to that in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. today i realized that i am forever free from the unnecessary curiosity in narcotics, as my dreams are quite trippy enough. i look forward to them now, each night brings a whole different world, and i write them down right away before i forget. in a way, they are like an outlet...their diversity and symbolic relation to thoughts in my psyche are like therapy, because if they don't answer my thoughts, they at least help me cope with them. along with fairytales and stories, dreams are my favorite. they are like fairytales in themselves: they entail a story, life, color, and the whole aspect of wonder is constantly present in the dreamer.. in a way, you are the creator of the world, but at the same time, the audience, hence the wonder.

   i've heard the expression that people get lost in their dreams, and that they see it as an escape from reality. maybe it's odd, but i don't get lost in my dreams. i always find something in them. it's kind of hard to put it down, but they're never meaningless or pointless. all of them are just plain funny and bizarre, at least to me, but also personally significant in some moving way.

the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams - eleanor roosevelt

Dreams are part of our heart and soul
Our dreams go to the depths of our thoughts,
Wants, and needs to fulfill our destiny.

 if i had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense.

- alice in wonderland

petites femmes

  I'll admit that no matter how many times I read and re-read the 19th-century-placed novel Little Women, watch the 1994 film, or listen to the latter's soundtrack...it makes me cry, even if just a little. This story by the great American author, Louisa May Alcott reminds me so much of my family in some way. Maybe in part because my mom, sisters, and I have loved the story so much from when we were little and so it was so integrated in our lives. My sisters and I would read Mom's signed hard cover copy from when she was a girl so many times when we were young. We would choke up over it and laugh hysterically every single time we read it, and we could act out the different characters and their roles and personal moments. It moved me so much, it's as if part of my formation as a person has been influenced and deeply founded by that literary work from a very early age. We even used the characters as verbal insults during moments of frustration: Amy was a juicy title to namecall with if someone was disposed to leisure and 'prancing around like a primadonna', or Jo if one was disregarding manners and 'crudely flaunting tomboyish roughness', and so on. We watched the movie every winter together bundled under the blankets with our eyes glued to the screen, eagerly anticipating the next scene although we'd seen the movie a million times before. Perhaps because it's a true story is one of the reasons why it's so dear to my heart; I can relate to it more than any other inspirational or cherished work of literature. Life in the March family's big ol' Orchard House is imperfect, wholesome, tragic, beautiful, joyful, and at all times entertaining. The re-telling of Alcott's childhood and youth naturally facilitates true bonding with the reader. To be honest, the entire story, on all levels, makes me incredibly wistful. And although, as my family is wearily aware of by now, I have always been certain to declare my abhorrence of the dreariness and reality of marriage and family life, being a 'lover' of independence, travel, and personal pursuits (maybe your imagination can stretch as far as to ascertain whose role was Amy March's in our house), I do envy them. secretly I love the old house, and the garden around it, and the girls, and Marmee, and their house with the chimney, and the snow, and the town they live in, and the christmas dances, and their cozy attic that was their "theatre" where they acted out their home-based "plays". It is so beautiful because it's so domestic, and comforting, and traditional! I truly hope someday I have a close family with many children in an old, two-story, cozy house up north where it snows every winter and colors every fall. I'll share with them my love for poetry, and literature, and music, and dance, and I hope they all have a passion for the arts and theatre and aren't ever afraid of pursuing goodness and beauty. I want them to be happy, beloved, and contented, with self-respect and peace. I'll braid their hair every night and read to them in their upstairs bedroom, and try to cook motherly homemade meals, and hopefully church will be close by so we can walk to daily mass. and I'll be sure to tie a wooden rope swing under a tree. These are just some things I've always secretly loved more than anything else in the world and the simple little girl inside me always dreamed about but never shared.

I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I'm out of my sphere now, for woman's special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens.

A startled or surprised look from one of you when I spoke sharply rebuked me more than any words could have done, and the love, respect, and confidence of my children was the sweetest reward I could receive for my efforts to be the woman I would have them copy.

the ballad of love and hate

these aussie siblings write some beautiful music that I really really love.

just a boy - angus & julia stone

the southern folk music of The Avett Brothers have been a long time favorite of mine. and shall be forever and ever amen.

kick drum heart - the avett brothers

and one of those fave music videos of mine. 

slight figure of speech - the avett brothers

ye fearful saints fresh courage take...

    Feasting is forestalled and fasting installed for the next forty days!! ...whether you're a Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian, or Anglican -- and i hope that through the amelioration of my undertakings and intentions this Lent i grow to love much more by way of prayer, repentance, almsgiving, and self-denial as the traditional purpose of Lent is in the Church. Personally, I think that through fasting, one learns more minuscule and  enormous aspects of their soul, than through any other approach to self-denial and meditation. In a way you are learning to die to self, and that's the first step to listening to God. Over spring break I heard an audio retreat by Fr. Larry Richards (i strongly recommend) on an extremely basic subject: the purpose of life. simply and crucially: what we do now determines our eternity. its contents moved me so much and compelled me to think about a lot of things, particularly when he mentioned that prayer is not an opportunity to say "shut up God, I'm talking" but rather "speak Lord, I'm listening". That in itself forced me to stop and realize numerous spiritual chisels on my part. Perhaps this Lent ought to be devoted solely to quiet. in my mind. silence. He knows what I'm thinking already, what's in our minds, there's no need to pester and question and jabber on mentally to Someone who sees, hears, and knows everything before it even happens. There's no cause for noise and a one-way insistence. Nature is the most silent yet musical undertaking, and although I've observed that before, why didn't I apply it to my personal pursuits? I once read that inspiration without application cheats the intention and fans the flames of mediocrity... as Catholics we all know our Faith and the Church's teachings. But what it comes down to is whether you personally know your God. That's how you prove someone's existence. If someone told you your sister didn't exist you would say, "My sister definitely exists, because I've experienced her, I know her, believe me. I can tell you all about her and what we've experienced together" So... do i really know Him?   It's a frightening question.

 

 

 

the harder the life, the sweeter the song

500 Days of Summer, early '60's mod, She&Him, Zooey Deschanel, or Joseph Gordon-Levitt fan? I happen to like all, as well as dancing and the color blue, so this cute video makes my heart smile. voilà! enjoy the class and talent if you will.

and a couple true blue tunes of the folk, guitar picking, rambling musician Ryan Bingham that complete those moments when i'm swinging in a hammock on a hot day and in need of some american harmonica and motivation to saddle em up. btw i'm sold on this bob dylan-ish texan bullrider. his rustic voice can be caught in the soundtrack to Jeff Bridges' (one of this girl's fave actors out there) 2010 alcoholic once-legendary country musician character in Crazy Heart.

and on that note of folksy texan artists, here's another lonestar i heard about. if you like dylan, neil young, tom waits, 
or john prine, you'll like the bluegrass feel to Danny Schmidt's music. as Sing Out! Magazine says, "his songs are a flood of poetry, mythology, folk wisdom, and surprise."

le poème du rêveur

      In Mediaeval Literature with Dr. Williams (excellent, ancient old man with a very traditional old-school method of teaching) we're studying Anglo-Saxon culture and literature, and the last one we read is called The Dream of the Rood. Think Beowulf, and slightly prior to Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Pearl, etc. This ancient poem survives in a manuscript called the Vercelli book; the manuscript was written in England in the tenth century but was left in the northern Italian town of Vercelli, which is an important stop on the pilgrimage route from England to Rome. Its one of the earliest poems written during the Anglo-Saxon times and is basically a tale of heroism and spiritual triumph, relating the renowned scene of Jesus of Nazareth’s crucifixion from the standpoint of the cross itself, all of which is perceived by the narrator within a dream and re-told as this poem. A “rood”, presumably seems to be an Old English term for our term “rod”, hence the syntactic relation. Its difficult not to focus on the thought-provoking imagery in this peculiar visualization of the most powerful moment in history, and I've been reading it over and over again, finding more and more things. The cross seemingly plays an important role for the individual poet on a personal level because it observably captivates the dreamer’s awareness and regard for its potent symbolism for mankind. I think this is most likely overlooked by humanity in general from such a detailed and insightful standpoint, and thats what makes this ancient poem so compellingly unique to me. The Dreamer (or the poet) carries us through his most “sweetest dream” of gruesome suffering and triumphant glory, notably beginning with a vision of the cross itself first rather than of Christ Himself, giving the reader a good idea of the key character and focus in this poem. The cross is always described and viewed with the utmost respect, and is even in a close parallel position with the figure of the Christ Himself in several cases. The cross is originally portrayed as a “beacon” adorned in liturgical tradition from centuries of Church custom, and “bedecked with gold” as an object of veneration. Its later depicted as the literal wooden cross: “the savior’s tree…the best of woods…felled from the forest’s edge”. Then later on its referred back to as a liturgical cross after its discovery by St. Helen and its renewed emergence of fame within the Church of whom it was “adorned with gold and silver.” A chief point of eminence on the cross itself, much impressed by the poet, is that the cross is rendered as a symbol of a moment eternally occurring outside of time, meaning it is the essential point of our existence of which we eternally partake and behold, and this is most thoroughly expressed when all creation looked on “fair through all eternity”. The cross is depicted also as an angel, which is interesting; a symbolic messenger of God to humanity in this same aforementioned passage, an angel of the Lord. Also at the end of the poem when the dreamer desires the “cross of the lord”, rather than the scriptural representation of an angel, to “fetch” him and bear him to “great bliss, joy in heaven.” There's a sense of transmogrification as the tree is one with Christ in a way, as is seen when the cross “bleeds from the right side.” Also when the cross is left “standing drenched in blood. All shot through with arrows” and then when the tree speaks: “Easily I might have felled all those enemies, and yet I stood fast.” expressing a sense of intentional endurance of harm; he is an agent to his tormentors, yet they aren't the ones with the ultimate control. “They drove dark nails through me…They mocked us both together; I was all drenched with blood…Much have I endured on that hill of hostile fates.” They have suffered together, and the cross is the closest to Christ physically, which makes it “all beset with sorrow.” He isn't merely a witness to this gruesome scene but is a victim of evil, indeed a very martyr. The cross bears the weight and suffering of his Master, and suffers almost the same pains as Him. He is willing to endure his duty as a cross for the crucified, and in a noble manner, much like how Jesus approaches his duty as the crucified on the cross. This connection is noted when the cross “dared not bow down or break, against the lord’s word.” and when “the young hero made ready…strong and resolute; he ascended…brave…when he wanted to.” Another interesting point is when the poet gives a certain respective relationship of Mary to the cross when he says that after the crucifixion God honored him over all the trees of the forest, just as he has also honored His mother, Mary herself over all womankind. This gives a deep sense of honor to the cross itself, as it has shared a martyr-venerated connection with Mary the Mother of God, and Jesus Christ Himself. The tree reassures mankind that no one need be afraid of damnation who has borne in his breast the best of beacons, meaning himself, the cross of the crucified Lord. The intense attachment of cross’ purpose in relation to Jesus, and even Mary within this poem, gives it a much more dignified and laudable existence, than mere rods of wood, as the poet gives it life in recognizing and enduring its significantly fateful purpose. The poem concludes with the dreamer in a much more happy state than originally when he lamented his sinful state, but after this dreamt vision he is now longing to attain Paradise moreso and he eagerly prays to the cross to aid him en route for eternal salvation. This shift of the dreamer’s outlook and feelings towards the virtue-like bearer of Christ’s sufferings and its mission has a profound effect on the reader. The dreamer now has a sense of contemptuous mundi, and he yearns for eternal bliss. Likewise the dreamer’s expressions of sorrow of self-sinfulness can very much be a reflection of the reader’s state, and his change of heart towards passionately desiring Paradise can indeed be an insightful route for the reader as a truly effective approach to self-meditation.

s'étonner

          tonight i will touch upon the world of "Faërie", as Tolkien would put it, and my intimacy with it on a personal level. Fairy tales have always been my favorite category of literature, from my very initial introduction to the imaginatory realm by my mother. Well, first it was the stories in scripture translated to a toddler's level, but right beside scripture i listened in a state of lull to her voice enlighten my mind's eye on folklore, i.e., fairytales, myths, and fables. These are my earliest and consequently my most relished memories; listening to mom read and then scrabbling my paper and crayons together to color the story that was still living in my limitedly acute mind. Although the latter was an exceedingly frustrating effort for a three year old to undertake; striving to convey to mommy on paper what i saw so vividly in my captivated imagination, it definitely had a lasting effect on my psyche. Perhaps why literature plays such an important role in my life is due to the encouragement of it in my very preliminary stages. I think that children's imaginations, although diminutive are the most dynamic and acute of human beings, it's just their limitations in expression and articulation that withhold the inner recesses of their ingenuity. Tolkien called fairytales "sub-creation", that is, creating a secondary world, of which entails the "inner consistency of reality". That being said, here's to folklore and the youth of this world who still have an ardent admiration and wonder for the ancient tales of heroism, purity, evil, adventures, tragedies, virtues, vices, etcetera etcetera...


       "The consolation of fairy stories, the joy of the happy ending; or more correctly, the good catastrophe, the sudden, joyous "turn" (for there is no true end to a fairy tale); this joy, which is one of the things that fairy stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially escapist or fugitive. In it's fairy tale or other world setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace, never to be counted on to reoccur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, or sorrow and failure, the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance. It denies, (in the face of much evidence if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief."
--Tolkien.

"I have claimed that Escape is one of the main functions of fairy-stories, and since I do not disapprove of them, it is plain that I do not accept the tone of scorn or pity with which 'Escape' is now so often used. Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?" --Tolkien.

"I am half sick of shadows" --The Lady of Shallot

"My good blade carves the casques of men,

My tough lance thrusteth sure,

My strength is as the strength of ten,

Because my heart is pure." --Sir Galahad

ever wonder what the more filtered Grimm fairytales were like in original form? (these are the ones i was raised on) check it out at this cute website... http://www.nationalgeographic.com/grimm and heads up: they're not as pretty as they're commercially depicted! there's almost no eucatastrophic element at all in these ones, its no wonder they were softened over time.

danse un petit poésie

college has taken me away from dance, and i am missing it more than ever. it seems school has encouraged me to resort to personal poetry, but part of my new year's resolution this year will be to embrace poetry in motion back into my life!

my perception of insane control, precision, strength, grace, poise = Daniil Simkin. this intense young prodigy gives me a headache he's so phenomenal.

and fin with a fave classic -nouvelle vague- with a fave classic -bande a part-

cynical demeanour

heard about this band from my friend jonah, and the more i listen to them, the more their sound grows on me. indie, peaceful, quirky. also makes me want to wear glasses.

i've been meaning to read a certain masterpiece in Russian literature: The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy... about life, death, fear, epiphanies of reality. as Tolstoy said in his own words, "Ivan Ilyich's life had been...most ordinary and therefore most terrible." note to self: READ IT.