H. Miller – Tropic of Cancer

Standing on the threshold of that world which Matisse has created I re-experienced the power of that revelation which had permitted Proust to so deform the picture of life that only those who, like himself, are sensible to the alchemy of sound and sense, are capable of transforming the negative reality of life into the substantial and significant outlines of art. Only those who can admit the light into their gizzards can translate what is there in the heart.

 

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The woderful SZA

There was a post about her but in case you missed it I’ll return to praising her, for she’s the most interesting artist that emerged this year, and her new record comes out next week.

All the crucial elements she has. The voice is sublime, the lyrics are full of spirituality, still avoiding being banal or dull. I mean you can trust her, just listen.

Then, beside that, there is a lot to contemplate in her music videos. She carefully constructs her image – an introvert, a soul that has been hurt a few times too many. And her close relationship with nature is also there, especially the forest filmed in ‘Ice Moon’ is simply out of this world.

Now, being signed to the leading hip-hop label of today –  TDE she’s going to have a shot at wider fame very soon. I can’t see any other possibility right now, with such talent and dedication. She should try a song with Janelle Monae, they’d be like fire and ice put togather. Peace.

 

 

H. Miller – Tropic of Cancer

If now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear, that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality.

If any man ever dared to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, I think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever again assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.

 

… no picture, this is just perfect….

A. Gide – The Counterfeiters

What are the problems which will exercise the minds of tomorrow? It is for them that I desire to write. To provide food for curiosities still unformed, to satisfy requirements not yet defined, so that the child of today may be astonished tomorrow to find me in his path.

Quels problèmes inquiéteront demain ceux qui viennent ? C’est pour eux que je veux écrire. Fournir un aliment àdes curiosités encore indistinctes, satisfaire à des exigences qui ne sont pas encore précisées, de sorte que celuiqui n’est aujourd’hui qu’un enfant, demain s’étonne à me rencontrer sur sa route

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Sage Francis – Escape Artist

In an effort to make ’em all see what I found in my life I decided to give ’em a look
None of ’em gave it a glimpse and I guess that I’m sitting in the middle of an unread book
Letters are falling apart but the sentences stand on their own and the wording is permanent
Never been missed, I’ve just been misworded and misinterpreted

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