Hands of Marionette Player, Mexico, 1926 Tina Modotti
Trapeze Artists, 1954 Fernand Léger
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Emmy G., ca. 1900-08 Frank Eugene
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Hilde Billigheimer, 1934 Liselotte Grschebina
Portrait of Giovanna Tornabuoni, 1488 Domenico Ghirlandaio
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Seven Strophes
I was but what you'd brush with your palm, what your leaning brow would hunch to in evening's raven-black hush.
I was but what your gaze in that dark could distinguish: a dim shape to begin with, later--features, a face.
It was you, on my right, on my left, with your heated sighs, who molded my helix, whispering at my side.
It was you by that black window's trembling tulle pattern who laid in my raw cavern a voice calling you back.
I was practically blind. You, appearing, then hiding, gave me my sight and heightened it. Thus some leave behind
a trace. Thus they make worlds. Thus, having done so, at random wastefully they abandon their work to its whirls.
Thus, prey to speeds of light, heat, cold, or darkness, a sphere in space without markers spins and spins.
A Song
I wish you were here, dear, I wish you were here. I wish you sat on the sofa and I sat near. The handkerchief could be yours, the tear could be mine, chin-bound. Though it could be, of course, the other way around.
I wish you were here, dear, I wish you were here. I wish we were in my car, and you'd shift the gear. We'd find ourselves elsewhere, on an unknown shore. Or else we'd repair to where we've been before.
I wish you were here, dear, I wish you were here. I wish I knew no astronomy when stars appear, when the moon skims the water that sighs and shifts in its slumber. I wish it were still a quarter to dial your number.
I wish you were here, dear, in this hemisphere, as I sit on the porch sipping a beer. It's evening, the sun is setting; boys shout and gulls are crying. What's the point of forgetting if it's followed by dying?
Joseph Brodsky
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Landscape with Yellow Birds Paul Klee
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Classroom in the Emerson School for Girls, ca. 1850 Albert Sands Southworth Josiah Johnson Hawes