Giulietta / Resort 15

 

“She takes a quiet stroll through Florence in the dead of night. The dandelions blowing across the field as she makes her way to the city. She enters a cathedral and absorbs the scarlet of the wall hangings, and takes inspiration from the architecture as she walks languidly by. As the sunrises she mimics the shadows, the color placement shifting with the light.”

 

Hiddenness

“He was there for you, and yet at the same time he was inaccessible. You felt there was a secret core in him that could never be penetrated, a mysterious center of hiddenness.
To imitate him was somehow to participate in that mystery, but it was also to understand that you could never really know him.”

Paul Auster, The New York Trilogy

Senseless Emptiness

“I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, our actual night, the hell of it, the senseless emptiness.” 

 Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Into the Clouds

“How small and neat and comically serious the other men looked, with their grey-flecked crew cuts and their button-down collars and their brisk little hurrying feet! There were endless desperate swarms of them, hurrying through the station and the streets, and an hour from now they would all be still. The waiting mid-town office buildings would swallow them up and contain them, so that to stand in one tower looking out across the canyon to another would be to inspect a great silent insectarium displaying hundreds of tiny pink men in white shirts, forever shifting papers and frowning into telephones, acting out their passionate little dumb show under the supreme indifference of the rolling spring clouds.”

Richard YatesRevolutionary Road

A Moment White

"But pleasures are like poppies spread, You sieze the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white--then melts for ever;  Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form 
Evanishing amid the storm.--"

Tam o' Shanter, Robert Burns

...

Miles Chamely-Watson

“In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living. They took place in solitude. But with action came anxiety, and the sense of insuperable effort made to match the dream, and with it came weariness, discouragement, and the flight into solitude again. And then in solitude, in the opium den of remembrance, the possibility of pleasure again.”

Anaïs Nin

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Skin : S/S 2015

“You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body.” 

Jeanette WintersonWritten on the Body