Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.
Sir John Lubbock
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sleep
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Between sleeping and awake
Monday, July 27, 2009
Love
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Gates of Heaven.
Friday, July 24, 2009
You and I
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Times change, and people change.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Hopes and dreams.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Flowers
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Like cats
We are becoming like cats, slyly parasitic, enjoying an indifferent domesticity. Nice and snug in “the social,” our historic passions have withdrawn into the glow of an artificial cosiness, and our half-closed eyes now seek little other than the peaceful parade of television pictures.
Jean Baudrillard
Jean Baudrillard
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
A rose
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Perhaps.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Books in collective dignity.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Control stops with the shore.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Happiness.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
A blank sheet of paper, the greatest excitement.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Out of sight.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
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