...with the purpose of writing about the Urban Aesthetic. I made a few contributions early on...but finally I found a great example that I couldn't pass up. I've developed more of this Aesthetic in my head than I've typed up. I'm so excited that I found this!
Read it Here!

Urban Aesthetic and Reanimation
excerpt:
"The Reanimation Library collects books ( Read more... )

As it is with most things, change is hard. I am back to where I started, knowing more, feeling less. It's time to disappear for a little while.

3:46.31

After a year, it's a good feeling.

I am sitting in my library, staring at a screen that I haven't had the time to see in at least two weeks. I am also looking for more repetoire for my senior recital. If anyone knows where I can find more music by Jewish composers who composed in Terezin and then died in Auschwitz and also composed music for baritone and piano.....please call me ( Read more... )

A Fragment

Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast
Of bisons the far prairie shaking,
The notes crowd heavily and fast
As surfs, one plunging while the last
Draws seaward from its foamy breaking.

Or in low murmurs they began,
Rising and rising momently,
As o'er a harp AEolian
A fitful breeze, until they ran
Up to a sudden ecstasy.

And then, like minute- ( Read more... )

my grandfather saw Buchenwald
he fought in D-Day, and the Battle of the Bulge in the Ardennes.
he was awarded the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star.

he very rarely talks about it.

"I know that the Holocaust happened because I saw it. Yes, I was in Buchenwald. We talked with survivors and saw the ovens and saw the bone piles."

hitler was merely a ( Read more... )

on this day ( Read more... )

So when you make a prediction that you hope will not come true, are you secretly turning into self-fulfilling prophecy?

When you state that
    "I feel like if you were to criticize something about me or my life it would crush me."
and the criticism comes
and you are actually crushed
and it surprises you...

is it your fault?

Culpability doesn't matter.

I ( Read more... )

I resolve to ask the bookstore proprietor that I run into about what his or her prize book for sale is. Imagine how much we miss by failing to ask!

:--I was the landscape in your dream,
and all my mountains
were on fire--:

when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story - Gwendolyn Brooks

-----And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday---
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To ( Read more... )