Retro 100

Snowy heart, minds apart. Edit the fragment, unglue the segment. Augmentation of the stations through the nation. The black smoke invades your sweet eyes so sore, its venomous smell's mass-killing dinosaurs. We are all velociraptors. Not adapters.

It's snowing cats and dogs, again. Mice are endangered.

Sometimes things look like they're speaking to you. "I'd rather cut your fingers off than have you crawling on my lawn. Just try to..."

Fragments unglued, floating on their own. In case of evacuation, use the balloon. Land on the moon. Pick up the pieces by letting them fly by.

Nature-shaped monsters stick to our brains. They wake up inside our dreams, crawl out from mouth and ears and pretend to be our fears.

It's just the Freud enterprise.

Be wise.

Recognize the truth. You've seen its profile, it's been a while crocodile.

Light does amazing things.

It really needs you to be steady, shapes your world if you're ready. What if there was a copyright on every ray of light? Argh.

No rights claimed on the soft mind bubbles. Oh, the pleasure of softness. Rr-rr, rrrr.

Glue lipstick

The heart was lying there on the floor. He could feel it from where he was sitting, even if it wasn't inside his chest. It was getting hard to breathe, but he could feel it like if it had been right underneath his skin. It was sort of shrinking, like when you get very, very immensely nostalgic. Things were running through it, he could see the butterfly waking up and leaving it behind like a used-up flower. He could feel all the words fly by like summer breeze. He stood up and walked towards it. His feet were getting lighter, the kind of cat walk you do in dreams. He slowly took the heart in his hand. It was warm and sticky, like he always had been himself. The kind of heart that doesn't slip away from your fingers easily. He squeezed it a bit, and saw the colors drip off. Small lakes started spreading on the floor around his feet. The window was open, and the fresh air was dancing around his eyelashes. He breathed in and looked down on the floor for a second. When he looked up again it was gone. He'd thrown it away. The heart was flying as fast as a spaceship towards Orion. And the ground let him go.

Hey, black cat! Where's your hat?

Cat! Where's your head at?

So, long time no nothing, had that chat before. How have you been lately? Jagger and I were discussing artistic issues the other night, and we couldn't get further than to how incredibly egoistic art is. Art in general i guess, but as film matters more to me in these exact few minutes within a lifetime, film especially, yes.

Black and Blue˙

No, wait. I did it again. It's all about myself. And although you might not believe it that wasn't the blogs purpose in the first place. I actually just wanted to shape ideas and maps that could lead to a book, a script or something. Very self-absorbed. Very stone-minded.

What?

Now that cause is lost, so why are we still here?

Golden Red˙

I guess the photography part of it started growing on me pretty fast, precisely with the first time i started wirlin' around with the olympus. Another part is, yes, yes, yes, egocentrism. You travel, you see amazing places, you hang with fantastic people, why wouldn't you want the whole world to know it? Look here, look at us! Look! Look!

Icy White˙

Is it really that bad? Yes, but. It's really freeing to. It's just mental vomit running straight from your inside into your fingers without further deep analysis. Sort of the exercise your hippie and way strange teacher would have you do in order to relax, let it go. It didn't work than, when you knew somebody could end up reading the shit. Right now, it's...Oh, it's just the same. But in a good way. Firstly, because you chose it. And the second you stop paying attention to my mind, whooom, those words are gone. Secondly, this is 2010. Right, this is neither a reason for anything or an excuse. But it's pretty damn exciting. How are you? This first month of the year has been amazing.




Twothousandandten is the year in which fourteen people and I and surely a few other millions on this planet will have to choose what to do with their lives. That's so scary and exciting that one could probably start a blog on the matter. Point is, we're all trembling and whispering and writing and wishing and half of our minds are gone! They're over there already, spread all over september, august, november. I'm wondering what to do with my leftover. Not that I have too much choice, at least if I can keep on being reasonable. But where is the other, future half?







Ooohh. One good thing with the blog is that you never need to give an answer. You can be as all-knowing and philosophical as you want and you can always end a post with a question mark. Annoying, huh? But I'm curious.

How are you?˙