Mar 19, 2010
Mar 18, 2010
View of a Room
Atelier Elvira. August Endell. Munich, 1900.
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In 1901 [Endell] moved to Berlin, where ten years later he designed five shops for the Salamander Shoe Company, each with large, sensitively detailed windows. In them, as [Karl Ernst Osthaus'] account reveals, ordinary goods seemed almost to evolve into living forms: "the passerby is arrested before them: silk clothes rustle around him, and before him lips open up, which he will kiss while wearing these boots."
--Pamela Kort, "Ernst Ludwig Kirchner's Berlin Street Scene (1913-14)"
Labels:
Germans,
View of a Room
Mar 17, 2010
Verses
'Siul a Rún'
Siúl, siúl, siúl, a rún, Siúl go socair agus siúl go cúin, Siúl go dti an doras agus ailig liom. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I would I were on yonder hill. T'is there I'd sit and cry my fill, and every tear would turn a mill. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I'll sell my rack. I'll sell my reel. I'll sell my only spinning wheel. To buy for my love a sword of steel. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I'll dye my petticoats. I'll dye them red, and around the world, I'll beg my bread. Until my parents shall wish me dead. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I wish. I wish. I wish in vain. I wish I had my heart again. And vainly think I'd not complain. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
But now my love has gone to France, to try his fortunes to advance. If e'er he come back, t'is but a chance. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
---(a young women urges her boyfriend to desert the army...'walk away my love, walk quietly, get up and go away with me...')
'Níl Sé Ina Lá'
Níl sé ina lá, níl a grá. Níl sé ina lá is ní bheidh go maidin,
Níl sé ina lá is ní bheidh go fóill, solas ard atá sa ghealaigh.
Chuaigh mé isteach i dteach aréir, is d'iarr mé cairde ar mhnaoi an leanna.
is é dúirt sí liom "Ní bhfaighidh tú deor. Buail an bóthar is gabh abhaile."
Chuir mé féin mo lámh i mo phóca, is d'iarr m«briseadh scillinge uirthi.
Is é dúirt sí liom "Suigh síos ag bord, is bí ag ól anseo go maidin."
"éirigh i do shuí, a fhear an tí, cuir ort do bhrístí is do hata.
Go gcoinne tú ceol leis an duine cóir, a bheas ag ól anseo go maidin."
Nach mise feín an fear gan chéill, a d'fhag mo chíos in mo scornaigh?
D'fhág mé léan orm féin, is d'fhág mé séan ar dhaoine eile.
---(the Irish version of the 'Wild Rover' in which a man is tricked into spending all night in a pub while spending the rent money...)
Siúl, siúl, siúl, a rún, Siúl go socair agus siúl go cúin, Siúl go dti an doras agus ailig liom. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I would I were on yonder hill. T'is there I'd sit and cry my fill, and every tear would turn a mill. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I'll sell my rack. I'll sell my reel. I'll sell my only spinning wheel. To buy for my love a sword of steel. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I'll dye my petticoats. I'll dye them red, and around the world, I'll beg my bread. Until my parents shall wish me dead. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
I wish. I wish. I wish in vain. I wish I had my heart again. And vainly think I'd not complain. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
But now my love has gone to France, to try his fortunes to advance. If e'er he come back, t'is but a chance. Is go dteighigh tú a bhoirnín, slán.
---(a young women urges her boyfriend to desert the army...'walk away my love, walk quietly, get up and go away with me...')
'Níl Sé Ina Lá'
Níl sé ina lá, níl a grá. Níl sé ina lá is ní bheidh go maidin,
Níl sé ina lá is ní bheidh go fóill, solas ard atá sa ghealaigh.
Chuaigh mé isteach i dteach aréir, is d'iarr mé cairde ar mhnaoi an leanna.
is é dúirt sí liom "Ní bhfaighidh tú deor. Buail an bóthar is gabh abhaile."
Chuir mé féin mo lámh i mo phóca, is d'iarr m«briseadh scillinge uirthi.
Is é dúirt sí liom "Suigh síos ag bord, is bí ag ól anseo go maidin."
"éirigh i do shuí, a fhear an tí, cuir ort do bhrístí is do hata.
Go gcoinne tú ceol leis an duine cóir, a bheas ag ól anseo go maidin."
Nach mise feín an fear gan chéill, a d'fhag mo chíos in mo scornaigh?
D'fhág mé léan orm féin, is d'fhág mé séan ar dhaoine eile.
---(the Irish version of the 'Wild Rover' in which a man is tricked into spending all night in a pub while spending the rent money...)
Labels:
verses
Love In This Club: Hole. Yes, Hole...
I know Courtney Love looks like a Mickey Rourke muppet in a wig. I know Frances Bean is counting down the days until she can poison her during their "Reconciliation Thanksgiving dinner," but I still cannot find a single thing wrong with this song. Just give it a listen, and tell me you don't want to find some Urban Decay nail polish and go crazy:
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 15, 2010
Mar 14, 2010
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