thatscool: 2013

Sunday, October 6, 2013

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons

THE LOVE SONG OF J.ALFRED PRUFROCK

LET us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question….

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)

Is it perfume from a dress

That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

And should I then presume?

And how should I begin?

. . . . . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

. . . . . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep … tired … or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while,

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

If one, settling a pillow by her head,

Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,

100

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

And this, and so much more?—

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

105

Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

. . . . . . . .

110

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

115

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …

120

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

130

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

(Text via http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html)

Friday, September 13, 2013

THE COOLEST THING IS WHEN YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT BEING COOL ANYMORE. INDIFFERENCE IS THE GREATEST APHRODISIAC - THAT'S WHAT REALLY SUMS UP STYLE FOR ME.
- rick owens

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

KEEP IT UNDER YOUR HAT from TEST on Vimeo.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Lessons

LESSONS - Be careful to recognize when other people are too strongly affecting your ideas and emotions. You are an adult and can put stronger conviction into the accuracy of your own thoughts and feelings.

"Watch your thoughts for they become words. Watch your words for they become actions. Watch your actions for they become... habits. Watch your habits, for they become your character. And watch your character, for it becomes your destiny! We are what we think we become."

LESSONS - learning to love is like learning a language, its harder to figure out he older you get.

Perhaps there are people you are destined to know forever and others who cross your path at a specific time and place, however random these occurrences may seem.

LESSONS - its hard to know who you are if you don't know where you come from ....but that dosent mean you wont ever figure it out.

Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
This year is already quite different than before, and you may not even recognize yourself by next December. Remember to stay true to yourself — it pays off.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

the future will be confusing

indeed

timetchells.com

Swimming Pool designed by Verner Panton, 1969

mink pink

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Adventure Land

Sun Parekeet .aka. Sun Conure .aka. Aratinga Solstitialis

Lara Sone - Adventure Girl Makeup Look.

Venture to the depths of the Ocean (Image via OliviaFrolich.dk)

A MAP TO REMEMBER (you musent forget your map)

somewhere in Vietnam ....

A mysterious doorway (image via oraclefox )

Jules Verne The Man Who Invented the Future by Franz Born

ready to seduce the night!

Elsa Hosk by Guy Aroch.

Meet me at sundown ....on the balcony

(Behind the scenes for the Pirelli Calendar. 2013)

Monday, February 25, 2013

Another Dawn / Imagining a Warmer Future

b&b . Minneapolis, Minnesota. Late February.
over and over, I've spent too much time imagining, waiting for approaching plans. too many destinations, expectations. emphasis on expectations, your imagination fooled you again. La Rie En Rose. hard when the glasses come off.
too many hours on a road, in a car, in the bubble.
When I get down, imagination steps in.
The past then a fantasy, or moment un-remembered.

Naomi Campbell & Christy Turlington.

Photographer Steven Meisel. "The Face"1990

Model Lucie von Alten. Photo by Nikolay Biryukov & Styling by Stella Gosteva.

“End of a Season” for Fashion Gone Rogue.

Edvard Munch (Norwegian 1863-1944)

Kiss By The Window,1892. Oil on canvas.

Model Cora Keegan photographed by Craig Salmon.

“White Light” for Fashion Gone Rogue.

Sleepless. W Magazine, December 2012.

Image by Mert & Marcus, Modeled by Natalia Vodianova.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

cigarettes & flowers

JUERGEN TELLER Cat Smoking, Hydra, 2012

photographers fan site here juergenteller.tumblr.com

Carla Bruni

Carline Print Love Card. (www.liberty.co.uk.)

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Rational Romance?

LOVE NOTES BY CHARLE DARWIN

An Alternative Approach to Matters of the Heart!

.....this year, an unexpected romantic hero - The Rational Romantic!
Like my father, who had the nerve to brake up with my mother before leaving to India, only to phone back an hour later insisting that she write him a letter outlining the reasons it would make sense for them to be married!!
...but she did, and MON DIEU it worked, stil married, still best friends, still my heros.

so instead of Shakespeare

.....

NOT MARRY

Freedom to go where one liked— choice of society & little of it.
Conversation of clever men at clubs.
Not forced to visit relatives & to bend in every trifle to have the expense & anxiety of children.
Perhaps quarrelling.
Loss of time.
Cannot read in the evenings
Fatness & idleness.
Anxiety & responsibility.
Less money for books.
If many children, forced to gain one’s bread.

- Perhaps my wife wont like London; then the sentence is banishment & degradation into indolent, idle fool.

MARRY

Children—(if it Pleases God).

Constant companion & friend in old age.

Better than a dog anyhow !

Home, & someone to take care of house.

Charms of music & female chit-chat.

These things good for one’s health.

-My God, it is intolerable to think of spending ones whole life, like a neuter bee, working, working, & nothing after all. No, no won’t do. Imagine living all one’s day solitarily in smoky dirty London House. Only picture to yourself a nice soft wife on a sofa with good fire, & books & music perhaps.

.....in the end it proved necessary to marry, and according to the history books He loved his wife Emma dearly to the end!

his notes found here www.darwinproject.ac.uk

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Be Mine Valentine

Everyone needs a Valentine, Day of Friendship, Day of Love

Its my favorite. Day of the Heart, Not just the Lover

I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU.