loopers and voices and no music

voices hiding in your favourite movies

i used to collect untranslatable words.
anjana iyer went a step further.

mirrors

http://craigslistmirrors.com/

the girl with the silver heart

beautiful science

by Johan Rijpma

static motion

a bit like fred astaire
Cruise Ship Hit By Storm - View From Inside and Out

static motion on a ship

a bit like fred astaire

http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=8dd_1305213553

noemi schneider

eine kluge frau

a story about songs

There is a tribe in Africa called the Himba tribe, where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it. And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song. In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them. The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another. And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person. You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

milano

exquisite fashion district near the dome (like walking through Vogue) / impressive foyer of the Teatro Manzoni which is in the same arcade as the William's Night Club (à la Moulin Rouge) and Sahrai Carpets on Via Manzoni 40 /  Palazzo Morando (Fashion+Costume Museum, a hidden gem with beautiful rooms, a private home that was turned into a museum) /  Museo Poldi Pezzoli (another former private home of a collector of everything that caught his fancy) / Triennale (not so interesting, but great book shop) / San Giuseppe della Pace, a modern catholic church inVia Fratelli Salvioni 10 next to the former north train station, build in the round (cannot find any further information about it, although the architecture is very special and beautiful)

eating

Marije Vogelzang

communication from a place somewhere lost in space

expressing a personality in an almost innocent way, exposing their vulnerabilty without maybe even knowing it.

berlinale 2013

frances ha
roland klick
the act of killing
promised land
layla fourie
prince avalanche
boven is het stil
i used to be darker
einemal eine große dame sein
la religieuse
walter murch
berlinale shorts

what makes a man

my mum and i we live alone

A great apartment is our home

In fairhome towers

I have to keep me company

Two dogs a cat a parakeet

Some plants and flowers

I help my mother with the chores

I wash she dries i do the floors

We work together

I shop and cook and sow a bit

Though mum does too i must admit

I do it better

At night i work in a strange bar

Impersonating every star

I'm quite deceiving

The customers come in with doubt

And wonder what i'm all about

But leave believing

I do a very special show

Where i am nude from head to toe

After stripteasing

Each night the men look so surprised

I change my sex before their eyes

Tell me if you can

What makes a man a man

At three o'clock or so i meet

With friends to have a bite to eat

And conversation

We love to empty out our hearts

With every subject from the arts

To liberation

We love to pull apart someone

And spread some gossip just for fun

Or start a rumor

We let our hair down so to speak

And mock ourselves with tongue-in-cheek

And inside humor

So many times we have to pay

For having fun and being gay

It's not amusing

There's always those that spoil our games

By finding fault and calling names

Always accusing

They draw attention to themselves

At the expense of someone else

It's so confusing

Yet they make fun of how i talk

And imitate the way i walk

Tell me if you can

What makes a man a man

My masquerade comes to an end

And i go home to bed again

Alone and friendless

I close my eyes i think of him

I fantasize what might have been

My dreams are endless

We love each other but it seems

The love is only in my dreams

It's so one sided

But in this life i must confess

The search for love and happiness

Is unrequited

I ask myself what i have got

Of what i am and what i'm not

What have i given

The answers come from those who make

The rules that some of us must break

Just to keep living

I know my life is not a crime

I'm just a victim of my time

I stand defenseless

Nobody has the right to be

The judge of what is right for me

Tell me if you can

What make a man a man

Tell me if you can

Tell me if you can

Tell me if you can

What makes a man a man

*******
the same song by a younger charles aznavour and in english

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this is one of the 8 songs Vidal Sassoon would take to a desert island.

duett

somebody having fun

two in one

Garland & Streisand - Get Happy / Happy Days Are... von TheBarbraWay

great performance

nature goes art

http://www.susannabauer.com/page4.htmhttp://www.susannabauer.com/page4.htm