Un sentimiento que conozco intensamente a las dos y media de la mañana.
Melancólico / Melancholic on Flickr.
(Reblogged from the artist/ Rebloguado del artista)
(Fuente: lorenzosacchipadovano)
I feel like wearing a variety of masks just before going to sleep.
El silencio
Oye, hijo mío, el silencio.
Es un silencio ondulado,
un silencio,
donde resbalan valles y ecos
y que inclina las frentes
hacia el suelo.
-Federico Garcia Lorca
- I really never post personal photos but here I am.
- Realmente no publico fotos personales pero aqui estoy.
- Realmente não publico fotos pessoais, mas aqui estou.
Nice to meet you too. I’ll be looking over my shoulder.
Foto por Payola Isabel
Jugamos al desquite¡fruición!no te tropiecesNo me tropiezo contigo¡He caído!Son trozos de mi torsoSe hayan tendidosde lejos : vacíos¡fruición!con las pieles no juegues,con sonrisasni con dientes vacilo.
I don’t think art is propaganda; it should be something that liberates the soul, provokes the imagination and encourages people to go further. It celebrates humanity instead of manipulating it.
Keith Haring
Days of Rome
Days of nothingness
Days of clear skies the temperature descending
Days of no telephone calls or all the wrong ones
Days of complete boredom and nothing
is happening
Days of 1967 coming to a close in the frigid condition of chest
cold and cough
drops
Days of afternoons in the life of a young girl
not being on time
Days of daydreams exploding
Days of utter frustration
Days of my film being cursed and myself
with the curse never lifting
Days of closed windows to keep the cold
out the livingroom warm
Days of avoiding lunch for a phone-call
with change of plans for the day
Days of posting letters
Days of no mail today
Days of fatigue and amphetamine highs
Days of Charles Edward Ives
Days of the 4:00 pm doldrums
Days of wonder drugs to challenge the common cold
Days of utter frustration
Days of forgettingGerard Malanga
