A P P L E O F M Y E Y E .

After an inevitable (yet accidental) vanilla coffee spill, surviving a chaos of feisty adrenaline Black Friday shoppers, trying on piles of clothes (that weren't destined to be purchased), about 200 different conversations, unexpected encounters with old schoolmates, spending 15 bucks worth on vintage floral bras, poking at my friends chili cheese fries, hours of non-stop joking, "hooting" and uncontrollable laugh-attacks later, I met my newest (additional) piece of owned art :

The Son of Man

After glancing through hundreds (not exaggerating) of art portraits at a very busy art booth (it was so lovely and satisfying to see so many people exposing their appreciation for an others talent, I must add) my finger-tips came across the work of Renee Magritte. One glance at it, I became instantly attracted. One actual look at it, I was instantly in love.  (just a self-thought side note: I'm realizing, I happen to fall in love with objects, words, and music much more rapidly than I ever have with an actual human being.) - - - 

I just couldn't let it go. Although I knew my red-floral wallet was in no condition for such selfish pleasures...and clearly I knew the painting wasn't necessary (being that I literally have no space left to flaunt it in my room. ALL my walls are smothered up in either vinyl, photographs, ink, or portraits already.) It's as if a certain magnetic force directed me to exchange my 7 dollars and something cents for the odd, captivating and intriguing piece. but little would I have known that along with this "piece", would also come the discovery of the genius, surrealist painter behind it. (P.S; Yes, for the record, the following information is Googled!) 

- - - - - - - - -

The painting is a 1964 self-portrait of Rene Magritte, an actually very well known (but new to me, of course) Belgian surrealist painter. On the what abouts of The son of Man, Magritte quotes:

"At least it hides the face partly. 

Well, so you have the apparent face,

 the apple, hiding the visible but hidden, 

the face of the person. 

 It's something that happens constantly.

Everything we see hides another thing, 

we always want to see 

what is hidden by what we see. 

There is an interest in that which is hidden and which the visible does not show us. 

 This interest can take the form of a quite intense feeling, a sort of conflict,

 one might say, between the visible that is hidden and the visible that is present."

(P.S.S, Of course I went on to view more of his work, And oh! darling treasure! his work is GOLD. P.S.S.S, Ce' n'est pas une pipe!)

“The mind loves the unknown. 
It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself 
is unknown.”

 

 “Only thought can resemble. 
It resembles by being what it 
sees, hears, or knows; 
it becomes what the world offers it.”

“If the dream is a translation of waking life, 
waking life is also a translation of the dream.”

Una Palabra.

A friend of mine showed me this song this past week,
and I've pretty much been obsessed with it. 
Its sound is simple, yet breathtaking. 

The lyrics..also simple, yet truly deep, and heartfelt.

(Note: The charming man in this video is not Carlos Varela; 

he's a fan of his that decided to make a mimic to his song.)

I think the outcome is just about close to perfect though, don't you think?

Una palabra no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
igual que el viento que esconde el agua
como las flores que esconde el lodo.

Una mirada no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo dice todo
como la lluvia sobre tu cara
o el viejo mapa de algun tesoro.

Una verdad no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
como una hoguera que no se apaga
como una piedra que nace polvo.

Si un dia me faltas no sere nada
y al mismo tiempo lo sere todo
porque en tus ojos estan mis alas
y esta la orilla donde me ahogo,
porque en tus ojos estan mis alas
y esta la orilla donde me ahogo.

I'll let you define me,

 

I've spent much too many hours, minutes, seconds of my life;

with faithful, passionate, serene dedication..searching for that undiscovered music. 

That music that is either too old, or too well known by a small amount of lovers. My main thing while musically adventuring though, is really just to find a new musical muse, for none other, and none more fittingly, than.. well, myself. 

I want to die knowing that my ears explored as much of this worlds God, golden, fortune, wondrous sounds as possible. This might have already been said a lot throughout history, and I'll just be another young folk added to the group, but I seriously can't imagine living a life without MUSIC.

I've never had such an intimate, humble, selfish obsession..as the one which I've had, and up to day still have, with the many voices, words, and sounds of the WORLD; that add up to the overly-simple

titled category called:  M U S I C.

Music makes me feel, unexplainable feelings. Music is A PART of me.

Music has been there for me in those little- B I G, moments of my life...

M U S I C: my ultimate, most endearing, wild, free, soothing, unforgettable, INFINITE;

roller coaster ride.

YOU do the math..

 

IT'S 3:49 AM, and once again I'm in lack of  a rested mind.
It's  not a matter of insomnia, or restless aging thoughts that keep my pupils glistening in a midnight darkened  room. It's not the caffeine consumed that keeps my creative adrenaline flowing. It's nothing too exaggerated or exquisite. There is none or nothing to blame; but on the contrary, a five-lettered word is the least I could give credit to: YOUTH.
These late nights, and early mornings..haven't worn down on me, yet.
Half the planet (now, that's exaggeration) find themselves asleep...
dreaming an extraordinary tale, expanding their years of beauty, decreasing their opportune days of...

L U N A

There is something about the moon.
It is splendid; magical.
In the darkness of the night, I lay beside my restless bones,
and allow the mind inside my head, to wander out alone.
It reaches its grand heights, it knows not where it goes,
but every night it makes its way to a place too far away from home.
Somewhere..Next to the stars, above the sky..it converses with the Moon.
The Moon...tells its stories. Some horrid, with beauty;
Often of sadness, mostly of glory. Both of pending, and past.
The mind stays and listens; sheds tears, and then glistens;
becomes intrigued by each word the Moon swiftly speaks away..
The Brain, The Brain..It paints its own pictures; soft dark dancing figures;
3, 4, 2, 1... out of order it comes.
The Brain; like a pistol..
two bullets, one deep shot.
It triggers each moving figure...into my head and then...
I'm still not dead.

Midnight Conclusions.

Heard the neighbors alarm clock go off today, 

made me aware of how long I've been awake;

Five-Hundred hours since I last seen your face, 

all is so dull, without your embrace...

I used to like the night. I'd wait for it, hope for it, 

but now...I dread it, And there is no way to avoid it. 

When the lonesome night makes intent to break,

the velvet gray slowly turns to day. 

In rotation, the sun went too far, came closer the moon...

and it stayed, it became..the reason my life drifts away. 

The more the galaxy glows, the brighter it shines;

the harder it becomes to breath, the stronger becomes the strive. 

The digital red no longer ticks, the digital red no longer speaks. 

This silence makes me more aware, as static lingers in my hair. 

I can't help but stone, and stare. I cannot feel you, anywhere. 

Potential memories haunt me deep, monsters crept into my past. 

I wanted to warn me, and let myself know.

I wanted to save me, and win my own war. 

These fingers hold my sympathy. 

Hurt exposes through a melody.

My lips stutter insecurities.. but these words are my epiphany;

they whisper every thought between, our last melancholy kiss. 

Locked inside these four thread walls, I reside to be a no one. 

I surrender to a perhaps...like the strings of a guitar.

PRESS PLAY .

Camera Obscura: Keep It Clean. < 3

Does it make you happy to ignore me on streets?
I guess by now you think I'm weak.
I wish you could have said something before now..
I wouldn't share a bag of chips with you,
In my opinion, you don't have a clue.
I'm being cruel, I'm being cruel.

I don't want to be part of your scene;
I'll stick with him, and keep my nose clean.
You're the one pretending to be licking stamps;
All alone in a room following lines on maps.
It's clear you don't want me here.

How about I send you a book on nutrition?
You can stop spoon-feeding me non-fiction.
Just for a while, I will fake a smile.
Why did you say she was a friend of mine?
I thought it was me you couldn't stand?

I'm confused..
I will win, you will lose.
You've taken to phoning my house when you're drunk..
Confessing all your love...
I wish you could have said so before now.

I don't want to be part of your scene, 
I'll stick with him, and keep my nose clean.

You're here, you always were. I feel it.
I feel it in my bones, your presence lightly lingering on my skin.
If karma could dance.. it would tangle in circles forever.


This cannot last, it wasn't meant to be eternal.
but stay, just a while longer, 
lets reminisce, together.


No need for vocal interaction.
Don't smile...just, close your eyes.
Your hesitant breathing suffices the impatient urge within my chest.


Days, they'll pass us by. 
Time, It'll have a different meaning tomorrow.
but today, right now --- let us be.
let this be our kept momentum.


Rest your selfless thoughts next to mine.
Enable our souls to adventure the sweet road.


Maybe someday we'll be safe ...
only then could we decide all that really matters.


I'd see all I'd want to see; 
your eyes looking back at me.


Sometime, when the earth rotates in opposite direction
we'll be able to change what we've become. 
Only then, I'd say what I'd want to say, 
and guarantee that I'm here to stay. 


Somehow, when the sun forgets to set, 
I will leave ALL thoughts behind.


You'd feel how you'd want to feel, 
love would be real. 


But today, right now ---
Let our past roam in a different town.
Let possibility jump off cliff sides. 
Let reason sing for salvation.
Let certainty strangle along with confusion.


M O M E N T U M.


You're here, 
you always were. 
I feel it. 


I'm here. I always was.
If YOU  feel  it ---


For this slight second, 
let this almost, almost, almost,
be enough.


M O M E N T U M .