Flowers in a Vase

Posted on Posted in Flowers, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Poetry, William BlakeLeave a comment
Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1866
As I wandered the forest,
The green leaves among,
I heard a Wild Flower
Singing a song.
 
I slept in the earth
In the silent night,
I murmured my fears
And I felt delight.
 
In the morning I went
As rosy as morn,
To seek for new joy;
But oh! met with scorn.
 
The Wild Flower’s Song
William Blake

‘Tis the Season

Posted on Posted in Holidays, PostcardLeave a comment
He comes in the night! He comes in the night!
He softly, silently comes,
While the little brown heads on the pillows so white
Are dreaming of bugles and drums.
He cuts thro’ the snow like a ship thro’ the foam,
While the white flakes ’round him whirl.
Who tells him I know not, but he findeth the home
Of each good little boy and girl.
His sleigh it is long, and deep, and wide;
It will carry a host of things,
While dozens of drums hang over the side,
With the sticks sticking under the strings.
And yet not the sound of a drum is heard,
Not a bugle blast is blown,
As he mounts to the chimney-top like a bird,
And drops to the hearth like stone.
The little red stockings he silently fills,
Till the stockings will hold no more;
The bright little sleds for the great snow hills
Are quickly set down on the floor.
Then Santa Claus mounts to the roof like a bird,
And glides to his seat in the sleigh;
Not the sound of a bugle or drum is heard
As he noiselessly gallops away.
Santa Claus
Anonymous, 1880

Jackpot

Posted on Posted in Advertising and Illustrations, David Klein, Film, Mike Figgis, PostersLeave a comment
David Klein ~ Las Vegas TWA, 1965

INT. SERA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
 
 Sera wakes and Ben comes in and gets into bed with her.
 
    SERA
  How are you doing?
 
    BEN
  Very well... umm... I never 
  expected to have to ask you 
  this again... but how did our 
  evening go? I remember 
  getting to the casino... I 
  remember kissing you... that 
  was really nice but 
  everything after that is a 
  blank.
  
    SERA
  Well - I was prepared for 
  worse, but it wasn't so bad. 
  We were sitting at the bar, 
  talking about blackjack. You 
  seemed just fine, a little 
  drunker than usual, but 
  nothing really strange, but 
  then your head started to 
  droop and I put my arm on 
  your shoulder and then, wham, 
  you swung you arm at me, and 
  fell backwards off your stool 
  into a cocktail waitress. You 
  smashed everything on her 
  tray, it was a real mess. You 
  kept yelling and yelling.
  
    BEN
  Oh, and what did you do?
  
    SERA
  I tried to shut you up and 
  help you to your feet but you 
  kept swinging at me - not 
  like you wanted to hit me, 
  but more just waving me away. 
  Security came and when you 
  saw them you stopped yelling. 
  They wanted to carry you out 
  and dump you on the street, 
  but I talked them into 
  letting me walk you out.
  
    BEN
  That's impressive. How did 
  you do that?
 
    SERA
  I told them you were an 
  alcoholic and T would take 
  you home. I also promised 
  that we would never come in 
  there again.
  
    BEN
  We?
 
    SERA
  Yes, we.
 
    BEN
   (holds her hand)
  What happened then?
 
    SERA
  You were OK for a while, so 
  we walked for about a block 
  and then you said you wanted 
  to go home and fuck, but I 
  think even you knew that 
  wasn't going to happen. We 
  got a cab and you asked him 
  to stop at a liquor store, 
  even though I told you that 
  we had plenty at home. In the 
  store you gave the kid a 
  hundred and told him to keep 
  the change. I asked you if 
  you knew it was a hundred. 
  You said you did, so I let 
  you do it. We got here, you 
  fell asleep on the couch and 
  I covered you up and came to 
  bed.
 Leaving Las Vegas, Mike figgis 1994

La Roulette

Posted on Posted in Fyodor Dostoevsky, Jean Metzinger, LittératureLeave a comment
Jean Metzinger, 1926
➔ Schiller & Bodo

When on the present occasion, I entered the gaming-rooms(for the first time in my life), it was several moments before I could even make up my mind to play. For one thing, the crowd oppressed me. Had I been playing for myself, I think I should have left at once, and never have embarked upon gambling at all, for I could feel my heart beginning to beat, and my heart was anything but cold-blooded. Also, I knew, I had long ago made up my mind, that never should I depart from Roulettenberg until some radical, some final, change had taken place in my fortunes. Thus, it must and would be. However ridiculous it may seem to you that I was expecting to win at roulette, I look upon the generally accepted opinion concerning the folly and the grossness of hoping to win at gambling as a thing even more absurd. For why is gambling a whit worse than any other method of acquiring money? How, for instance, is it worse than trade? True, out of a hundred persons, only one can win; yet what business is that of yours or of mine?
 
The Gambler, Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Road to Reno

Posted on Posted in Books, Inge Morath, PhotographyLeave a comment
Inge Morath ~ Reno, Nevada, 1960
 

Inge Morath’s first trip across the United States followed a red grease-pencil line drawn by her traveling companion, Henri Cartier-Bresson, from New York through Gettysburg, Memphis, and Albuquerque to Reno. In 1960, the two were among 18 photojournalists commissioned by Magnum to document the Nevada set of Arthur Miller’s film The Misfits. The destination was a momentous one for Morath, both for her remarkable photographs on location as well as her initial encounter with Miller, whom she later married after his divorce from Marilyn Monroe. But it is Morath’s documentation of the 18 days in traveling to the set, collected here in both photographs and written entries, that in its casualness as a travel diary begins to unfold her carefully observed, insightful, and compassionate approach to reportage. ➔ The Road to Reno 

A sense of humour

Posted on Posted in Books, Humor, Paul GavarniLeave a comment

The following pictures are selected
from the two volumes of Gavarni’s
“Oeuvres Choisies” published by Hetzel,
Paris 1846-8. In choosing them the
publishers have been careful to exclude any
illustrations likely to offend English taste
or too local in interest for the allusions
to be generally intelligible.
***
Selected images from Humorous Masterpieces, No. 2
Pictures by Paul Gavarni
GOWANS & GRAY, Ltd.
1906