i luoghi dell'anima

"Prendevo meglio coscienza delle mie trasformazioni confrontandole con l'identità delle cose. Ci si abitua però alle cose come alle persone e quando, all'improvviso, ci si ricorda del diverso significato, degli avvenimenti, ben diversi da quelli di oggi a cui hanno fatto da cornice, della diversità degli atti compiuti sotto lo stesso soffitto, tra le stesse librerie a vetri, il cambiamento nel cuore e nella vita che quella diversità implica, esso ci sembra ancora accresciuto dalla permanenza immutabile della scena, rinforzato dall'unità del luogo."
(Marcel Proust, Sodoma e Gomorra)

Le dandy

"C'est le plaisir d'étonner et la satisfaction orgueilleuse de ne jamais etre étonné." (C.B., Le peintre de la vie moderne)

Le peintre de la vie moderne

                                          Constantin Guys, Bazar de la volupté

"j'ai dit que chaque époque avait son port, son regard et son geste." (Charles Baudelaire, Le peintre de la vie moderne)

oggi ho deciso che devo fidanzarmi. anzi, l'ho deciso ieri.

above all, I don't like eyes.

vorrei mettere i tuoi occhi in un astuccio, per guardarli a vista. (disse qualcuno).

Mercredi, élément: le sang. example: Oedipe

"Gran Dio, fate che la terra non generi mai simili mostri. Nessuna storia ha provato che ve ne siano mai stati di tal sorta. Sarà cura dell'autorità che nessuno sia più esposto a questo rischio."
(Complainte de Peyrebeille)

la sonnambula

                                         (Brauner)

"Thou talk'st of nothing."

I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night's revels and expire the term
Of a despised life closed in my breast
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

natural snow buildings

Diner dans le désert éclairé par les giraffes en feu

l'amore causa dei veri e propri sollevamenti geologici del pensiero.

"l'amore causa dei veri e propri sollevamenti geologici del pensiero. In quello del signor di Charlus che, fino a qualche giorno avanti, somigliava ad una pianura tanto uniforme che all'estremo orizzonte non si sarebbe potuta scorgere un'idea a fil di terra, si erano improvvisamente elevate, dure come la pietra, catene di montagne, ma montagne scolpite come se qualche scultore invece di portar via il marmo lo avesse lavorato sul posto e dove si contorcevano, in gruppi giganteschi e titanici, il Furore, la Gelosia, la Curiosità, l'Invidia, l'Odio, la Sofferenza, l'Orgoglio, lo Spavento e l'Amore."
(Marcel Proust, Sodoma e Gomorra)

ennui

things are sweeter when they're lost

" 'Dot', he whispered uncomfortably, 'you'll forget. Things are sweeter when they're lost. I know-because once I wanted something and I got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot. And when I got it it turned to dust in my hands.' "
(F.S. Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned)

That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet.

l'eccessiva memoria è una complicata perversione solipsistica

le carceri, babilonia

"...Tale è lo schema simbolico. In realtà, il numero dei sorteggi è infinito. Nessuna decisione è finale, tutte si ramificano in altre. Gli ignoranti suppongono che infiniti sorteggi richiedano un tempo infinito; basta, in realtà, che il tempo sia infinitamente divisibile, come insegna la famosa parabola della Gara con la Tartaruga."
(J.L. Borges, la lotteria a Babilonia)

Revé pour l'hiver

L'hiver, nous irons dans un petit wagon rose
Avec des coussins bleus.
Nous serons bien. Un nid de baisers fous repose
Dans chaque coin moelleux.
Tu fermeras l'oeil, pour ne point voir, par la glace,
Grimacer les ombres des soirs,
Ces monstruosités hargneuses, populace
De démons noirs et de loups noirs.
Puis tu te sentiras la joue égratignée...
Un petit baiser, comme une folle araignée,
Te courra par le cou...
Et tu me diras : "Cherche !", en inclinant la tête,
Et nous prendrons du temps à trouver cette bête
Qui voyage beaucoup...

Arthur Rimbaud

                                                                                                                                                                              

                                                                                                                                

Venice

the woman in the moon

the decadent moon

(...............)
THE PAGE OF HERODIAS
Look at the moon. How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from a tomb. She is like a dead woman. One might fancy she was looking for dead things.
(.............)
SALOME
How good to see the moon! She is like a little piece of money, a little silver flower. She is cold and chaste. I am sure she is a virgin. She has the beauty of a virgin. Yes, she is a virgin. She has never defiled herself. She has never abandoned herself to men, like the other goddesses.
(...............)
HEROD
The moon has a strange look to-night. Has she not a strange look? She is like a mad woman, a mad woman who is seeking everywhere for lovers. She is naked too. She is quite naked. The clouds are seeking to clothe her nakedness, but she will not let them. She shows herself naked in the sky. She reels through the clouds like a drunken woman . . . . I am sure she is looking for lovers. Does she not reel like a drunken woman? She is like a mad woman, is she not?
(.............)
HERODIAS
No; the moon is like the moon, that is all, Let us go within . . . . We have nothing to do here.
THE VOICE OF IOKANAAN
In that day the sun shall become black like sackcloth of hair, and the moon shall become like blood, and the stars of the heaven shall fall upon the earth like unripe figs that fall from the fig-tree, and the kings of the earth shall be afraid.
HERODIAS
Ah! ah! I should like to see that day of which he speaks, when the moon shall become like blood, and when the stars shall fall upon the earth like unripe figs. This prophet talks like a drunken man, . . . but I cannot suffer the sound of his voice. I hate his voice. Command him to be silent.
(...........)
HERODIAS
How these men weary me! They are ridiculous! They are altogether ridiculous! [To the Page.] Well! my fan? [The Page gives her the fan.] You have a dreamer's look. You must not dream. It is only sick people who dream. [She strikes the Page with her fan.]
(.........)
HERODIAS
Those men are mad. They have looked too long on the moon. Command them to be silent.

mhm

hoping death by water

dancing with death in red queen's garden

Lundi: élément = L'EAU.

Example: D. _ "que voyez vous?"
               R. _ "de l'eau."
               D. _ "de quelle couleur est cette eau?"
               R. _ "de l'eau."
(Benjamin Péret endormi)

(Max Ernst, Une semaine de bonté)
             

we always want what we cannot have

Aubrey

......."la success story di Beardsley come illustratore freneticamente alla moda parte da un rimescolio di farfalle stilistiche eccezionalmente disparate: il medioevo fiabesco di Re Artù, i magici fanatismi per Wagner, la scoperta delle stampe cinesi e giapponesi, il gotico laburista del movimento Arts & Crafts, la fissazione sull'erotismo come birichinata, l'impressionismo, il simbolismo, il chippendale, il rococo da boudoir Luigi XV, la gestione dell'eredità di Dante Gabriel Rossetti....."

peter and wendy. the most tragic lovestory ever

If he thought at all, but I don’t believe he ever thought, it was that he and his shadow, when brought near each other, would join like drops of water, and when they did not he was appalled. He tried to stick it on with soap from the bathroom, but that also failed. A shudder passed through Peter, and he sat on the floor and cried.
His sobs woke Wendy, and she sat up in bed. She was not alarmed to see a stranger crying on the nursery floor; she was only pleasantly interested.
“Boy,” she said courteously, “why are you crying?”
Peter could be exceeding polite also, having learned the grand manner at fairy ceremonies, and he rose and bowed to her beautifully. She was much pleased, and bowed beautifully to him from the bed.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Wendy Moira Angela Darling,” she replied with some satisfaction. “What is your name?”
“Peter Pan.”
She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did seem a comparatively short name.
“Is that all?”
“Yes,” he said rather sharply. He felt for the first time that it was a shortish name.
“I’m so sorry,” said Wendy Moira Angela.
“It doesn’t matter,” Peter gulped.
She asked where he lived.
“Second to the right,” said Peter, “and then straight on till morning.”

(J.M. Barrie, Peter and Wendy. Come away, come away!)

 "Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all."

"life is but a dream" (lewis carroll)

" Ero però spaventato che quel sogno avesse avuto la nitidezza della conoscenza. Potrebbe la conoscenza avere, reciprocamente, l'irrealtà del sogno?"
(Marcel Proust)