Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Le Miroir
To love beauty is unwise, for time destroys it. In this world nothing lasts, everything changes, and the moment we start to live, we start to die
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Mirror
Mirror
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
Norman Rockwell's kitschy American illustration meet Otto Dix's morbid German Expressionism, set to Plath's poetry (who was a German American).
Monday, March 26, 2012
Sylvia Plath
Cinderella
The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels,
Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan
Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels
Begin on tilted violins to span
The whole revolving tall glass palace hall
Where guests slide gliding into light like wine;
Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall
Reflecting in a million flagons' shine,
And glided couples all in whirling trance
Follow holiday revel begun long since,
Until near twelve the strange girl all at once
Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince
As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk
She hears the caustic ticking of the clock.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
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