Bowl of Lilacs

October 19, 2007

october

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 3:45 am

the october night comes; returning as beforeexcept for a slight sensation of being ill at easei mount the stairs and turn the handle of the doorand feel as though i had mounted on my hands and knees -t.s.eliot complete text see google books 

August 31, 2007

coolest invention since…feet?

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 12:20 am

http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/products/images/products/109//large.jpg  New innovative shoes finally make “bare foot running” comfortable.   http://www.vibramfivefingers.com/products/products_classic.cfm 

August 26, 2007

cleanse

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 5:18 pm

“Hear the chimes, did you know that the wind when it blows
It is older than Rome and all of this sorrow
See the new pyramids down in old Manhattan
From the roof of a friend’s I watched an empire ending
Heard it loud and long the river’s Om
Time marching on to a madman’s drum”

Bright Eyes : Cleanse Song : Cassadaga

August 23, 2007

photographs

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 2:32 pm

August 17, 2007

Crab Nebula

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 1:46 pm

esa1129051zw6.jpg

August 8, 2007

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 2:39 am

walk with me, hand in hand, through the neon and the styrafoam. walk the razor blades and the broken hearts. walk the fortune and the fortune haunted. walk the chop suey bars and tracts of stars. -jeanette winterson, gut symmetries 

August 6, 2007

Eliot, Pictures, Etc

Filed under: Uncategorized — priscilla @ 8:42 pm

Hello out there! This is my first post. My official music, art, photo, film, poetry, and science blog. Every day on a daily basis I find things that either intrigue me, anger me, make me fall in love, etc. I’d like to share them with you.  The inspiration of the title of this blog comes from a poem titled “Portrait of a Lady” by my favorite poet T.S. Eliot.  

Now that lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists one in his fingers while she talks.
“Ah, my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you who hold it in your hands”;         
(Slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
“You let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see.”
I smile, of course,         
And go on drinking tea.
“Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful, after all.”         
 

 

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