~ kawa z deszczem ~

.pogłos

~ who kisses the shadows ~

CZŁOWIEK (...) Kto jesteś?
OBŁĄKANA (mówi z wolna głucho, bezdźwięcznie) Szalona.
CZŁOWIEK Czekasz tu kogo?
OBŁĄKANA Nikogo - nikogo - nikogo.
CZŁOWIEK Gdzie sypiasz w noce jesienne i mroźne, gdy biały
szron powarzy liście?
OBŁĄKANA W jodłach - między korzenie -
CZŁOWIEK Wilków się nie boisz?
OBŁĄKANA Łaszą się.
CZŁOWIEK A Pana Jezusa ty znasz?
OBŁĄKANA Nie znam - oj, nie znam.
CZŁOWIEK I któż cię karmi?
OBŁĄKANA (śmieje się)
CZŁOWIEK Mów!
OBŁĄKANA On.
CZŁOWIEK Jaki dobry człowiek?
OBŁĄKANA Nie dobry - nie człowiek.
CZŁOWIEK (do siebie) Rozstrojony ten zegar wybija wciąż
północ.
OBŁĄKANA Diad'ko - lieszy - djawoł!
Poczyna hukać puszczyk - młode lisy skomlą jak dzieci, mgły wysunęły się zza drzew, jakby przysłuchując.
CZŁOWIEK Młoda jesteś, szkoda cię oddać szatanom, tobie
zakwitną róże i rozmaryny.
OBŁĄKANA Ja stara - stara - ja ten księżyc - młodą ziemię
bohaterów pomnę.

...
oh, brother.

~ vigil ~

posłuchaj moich słów
przez uderzenia
i huk powietrza

nie chyl się nad kowadłem
nie kuj klucza do na wpół rozpadłego domu

rzuć młot

patrz jak śrubokręt
mięknie w ogniu

ciesz się blaskiem

sigrid grímsdóttir

shivering.
serenity.

~ angelitos negros ~

image in this entry was taken from a spanish site nihilismo net. i'm quite far away from nihilistic moods, though ;) one of my munch favs too. the kiss.
it's been placed here not without a cause. munch is exceptionally actual for me right now, partly because of my recent trip to oslo and the insight it resulted with. there's also another motivation.

i've just seen iberia. absolutely appealing, colorful, seducing colours and images, brought to life by wonderful light arrangements, passionate or peacefully harmonic dance and the main character of the movie: spanish music.
i'm pretty sure there's one face brightening up there on scandinavian peninsula right now ;)

i'm quite stunned. by everything this movie unveiled for me but mostly by a charming silver-haired flamenco guitarist.
it's not that flamenco guitar playing is something new for me. i've heard it for the first time four years ago at... an AIESEC conference. somewhat unbelievable, but that's how it goes around me. that evening i remained speechless for a few minutes after the solo concert ended.

now i'm simply enjoyng the moon. vibrating scarlet strings. movement in the air.
the stream.
the kiss has suddenly become the explanation of the way i see music and visual arts. in my head they're pretty much the same, just like lovers in the painting become one. i can't think of anything worthy that i anyhow created without musical inspiration. i guess that's how i react to music. it's far too complex and intensive to be taken in. i don't have enough place to store such a range of experience and the charge it brings. the only thing i can do is to give this energy a different form and set it free again.

well. it's been a moving and intense evening.
thank you, españa. thank you, edvard. now i'm a step closer to myself. and still without any clue what i should do with it.

no vocals, no song

~ stupid white women ~

this is one of my favs by munch, current #1. the voice.

just finished watching dead man. now imagine: black&white jarmusch, dark western (though i don't really enjoy this genre), johnny depp, an indian who reads william blake and all with neil young's musical illustration.

i'm quite possessed by this soundtrack right now. guitar solo 5 is what sounds in my head when i fall asleep. and the ending song, the clouded sea under the eyelids.

the image of william falling asleep next to the roe-deer. we might change places, i feel our minds and hearts are alike, we paint the same signs on our foreheads. i only lack this powerful yet delicate, tearing guitar passage as a frame.

*smile* just realized i'm a darkness junkie.

nothing to be done about that, there's too much life in this friction.

and i need to feel my heart beat. fast.

some are born to sweet delight

some are born to endless night

~ strange kind of man ~

my favourite painting. ever ever.

seated deamon by michaił wrubel.
i saw it for the first time when i was in highschool, reading master and margarita.
album motive of devil in art. late november. library.
and he. sitting there in this raspberry sunset.
i always imagine there's an almost unnoticeable tear running down his left chin.
beautiful. calm. dangerous. sweet. sad. reflexive. authentic. warm. harsh. soft. cruel. loving.
human.
i always wonder if a man like him exists. dunno. but i will find him ;)
cause... well, apart from the tear, i imagine he's waiting.
for somebody that's coming.
coming back.
very very soon.

after all, when two soulmates meet
it's always a coming back after a what-took-you-so-long journey.
it's always a reunion.