Sky Limits by Celer.
Hill towns and empty mountains pass by, but the smoothness of the train blurs the view, and it’s easier than ever to fall asleep in the low morning sunlight coming in through the train’s windows. We’re sleeping, or staring out at the cities and landscapes; it’s easy to imagine the sound, and connect it with these events. There’s a contrast and connection between this reality and imagination. They’re separate, but happening simultaneously. On a walk through the crowded streets of Kyoto, or a half-asleep morning, what was it like? Later, what do you remember?
During a walk home one evening, I stopped on top of the street with a view over the train tracks, passed the intersection across from Mini Stop and the bakery, and went up the hill into the our neighborhood. There’s a particular sound when you step on the entrance grate by the doorway, and when opening the mailbox. Someday, I won’t be in these same places again, and for now, this is what they sound like. Even these minor moments are important when you look back on the memory, and then look out from this overlook, seeing the city lights blinking in the distance.2 hearts
Paris based photographer Melanie Rodriguez.
The purple fluid or granular matter which fills the cells of the glands differs to a certain extent from that within the cells of the pedicels. For when a leaf is placed in hot water or in certain acids, the glands become quite white and opaque, whereas the cells of the pedicels are rendered of a bright red, with the exception of those close beneath the glands.
These latter cells lose their pale red tint; and the green matter which they, as well as the basal cells, contain, becomes of a brighter green.
Mozart’s jocular whims and freaks. “Oh!” explained the capering composer, “we can’t afford fuel, so we are dancing to keep ourselves warm!” It was a bitterly cold winter morning, and it was not long ere the worthy Deiner had fetched in a goodly store of wood.
Persona by Ingmar Bergman, an epiphany of light and shadow.
The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh. (He laughs.) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors. (Pause.) Let us not speak well of it either. (Pause.) Let us not speak of it at all. (B.B.)2 hearts