Coin-Operated Girl's

this is my last post

2006-04-13T22:13:00.000-07:00

Coin-operated Girl's has come to an end.
Every necessary thing has been said or shown, and some have accepted to talk about them.

Now it's time to reset ideas and emotions waiting for something new to start with again.

So, let's take our leave and stay sure we will meet somewhere again.

Thank you everybody for taking an interest in it and contributing.

Special thanks to The Dresden Dolls pop group whose fantastic song Coin-operated boy has inspired me.

goodbye and hello

mycosysafe

a song which has meant a lot to me

2006-04-13T22:07:00.000-07:00

The Rolling Stones

MOONLIGHT MILE

(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
When the wind blows and the rain feels cold
With a head full of snow
With a head full of snow
In the window there's a face you know
Don't the nights pass slow
Don't the nights pass slow
The sound of strangers sending nothing to my mind
Just another mad mad day on the road
I am just living to be dying by your side
But I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road
Made a rag pile of my shiny clothes
Gonna warm my bones
Gonna warm my bones
I got silence on my radio
Let the air waves flow
Let the air waves flow
Oh I'm sleeping under strange strange skies
Just another mad mad day on the road
My dreams is fading down the railway line
I'm just about a moonlight mile down the road
I'm hiding sister and I'm dreaming
I'm riding down your moonlight mile
I'm hiding baby and I'm dreaming
I'm riding down your moonlight mile
I'm riding down you moonlight mile
Let it go now, come on up babe
Yeah, let it go now
Yeah, flow now baby
Yeah move on now yeahYeah, I'm coming home'Cause, I
'm just about a moonlight mile on down the roadDown the road, down the road

Martin Buber,the Jewish philosopher, theologian, bible translator

2006-04-13T01:12:00.000-07:00

every journey has a secret destination which the passenger is unaware of.

Martin Buber

Emily Dickinson

2006-04-12T01:15:00.000-07:00

J 1119 (1868) / F 1144 (1868)

Paradise is that old mansion
Many owned before -Occupied by each an instant
Then reversed the Door -Bliss is frugal of her Leases
Adam taught her Thrift
Bankrupt once through his excesses -

Il Paradiso è quella vecchia dimora
Da molti posseduta prima -Occupata da ciascuno un istante
Poi si richiuse la Porta -La Felicità è frugale negli Affitti
Adamo le insegnò la Parsimonia
Una volta in bancarotta per i suoi eccessi -

chosen by mycosysafe

Pier(ino)'s pic

2006-04-07T22:26:00.000-07:00

Polignano A Mare

the role of desolation after destruction

2006-04-05T09:07:00.000-07:00

mourning is of no religion or country
but it is relevant to human race

2006-04-05T08:47:00.000-07:00

have you ever thought about the purpose that war serve?

after killing thousands and leaving millions homeless

after pulling down historic buildings

after destroying centuries of culture and human achievements

after wiping out museums, churches,emotions and hope

its only purpose has to be that of intentionally preventing human,historic

and social development.

Photo by Pier(ino)

2006-04-03T07:08:00.000-07:00

2006-04-02T09:39:00.000-07:00

yours or ours?

FLUO

2006-03-30T05:58:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

The cyclamen grows

2006-03-27T23:21:00.000-08:00

2006-03-25T00:40:00.000-08:00

toujours aux Petits Loups de Lyon

2006-03-24T09:09:00.000-08:00

envoyé aux Petits Loups,Hopital Débrousse de Lyon, France -Europe

2006-03-18T08:55:00.000-08:00

envoyé aux Petits Loups de L'Hopital Débrousse de Lyon Fr

2006-03-18T08:54:00.000-08:00

If I looked through the mirror and found you weren't there I'd be certainly afraid;

If I walked along city's streets and found you weren't there I'd be really afraid;

If I considered my thoughts and my speech and found you weren't there I'd feel deadly alone.

mycosysafe

Mailart is Fantasy

2006-03-16T00:05:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

J 51 (1858) / F 41 (1858) by ED

2006-03-11T01:56:00.000-08:00

I often passed the Village
When going home from school -
And wondered what they did there -
And why it was so still -
I did not know the year then,
In which my call would come -
Earlier, by the Dial,
Than the rest have gone.

It's stiller than the sundown.It's cooler than the dawn
-The Daisies dare to come here -
And birds can flutter down -

So when you are tired
-Or - perplexed - or cold -
Trust the loving promise
Underneath the mould,
Cry "it's I," "take Dollie,"And I will enfold!

Spesso attraversavo il Villaggio
Quando tornavo a casa dalla scuola -
E mi domandavo cosa facessero là -
E perché fosse tanto silenzioso -
Non potevo sapere l'anno allora,
In cui la chiamata sarebbe giunta
-Più presto, per la Meridiana,
Degli altri che sono andati.

È più calmo del tramonto.È più fresco dell'alba -
Le Margherite osano venire qui -E gli uccelli possono posarsi -

Così quando sei stanca -
O - perplessa - o fredda -Confida nell'amorosa promessa
Sotto la terra,Grida: "sono io", "prendi Dollie",E io ti abbraccerò!

Emily Dickinson

2006-03-08T08:24:00.000-08:00

to me , love would probably mean an immaterial dimension , a research dominion wherein every thing comes unexpected.
funny enough, inn'it?

mycosysafe

2006-03-07T07:59:00.000-08:00

2006-03-04T08:10:00.000-08:00

The Land,2006 an Italian picture by Sergio Rubini

2006-03-04T02:14:00.000-08:00

Film director Sergio Rubini says about his last picture: "At a certain point of our life we're called to take on a series of responsibilities the same ones we we wouldn't ever take. Frequently these responsibilities come from family, from a haematic dimension, from blood. It isn't a question of proprietorship,even if the land can separate people ; it's more the kind that it binds people together just because they don't possess it.

2006-03-01T02:30:00.000-08:00

"Or, poems are insight to what will become or what the writer holds to be true only to oneself"

by the Scribe

chosen by mycosysafe

about poems.....

2006-02-28T03:40:00.000-08:00

Poems

"For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough)—they are experiences."

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Murgia, Apulian inland, by Pierluigi Di Giulio

2006-02-25T07:44:00.000-08:00

Canon EOS 3, lens Canon EF 28-105 USM, Fuji 100 Sensia, Filter polarizz. circ.

Private Dreams

2006-02-23T00:03:00.000-08:00

The Sun ,by Alexander Sokurov

2006-02-19T10:36:00.000-08:00

The Sun proves yet again that Sokurov is the greatest living Russian director. His screen portrait of Hirohito is a masterpiece of minimalist elegance. Shot in dusky lighting with grey and green overtones, Sukorov’s aesthetic good taste is unparalleled in contemporary cinema. Emphasis is always perfectly placed. He also manages to infuse the film with lyrical humour and heartbreaking compassion.

The Sun, gives Hirorito, the Japanese emperor, the human treatment. The Sun portrays him while in hiding in a bunker in the summer 1945 after a broadcast to the nation in which he called his people to cease all fighting and allow the Allies to land on Japan’s islands without encountering any form of resistance.

A human perspective on this WWII episode is particularly relevant considering that in Japan the emperor is seen as a direct descendant of the sun goddess Amaterasu. Hirohito (Issey Ogata) renounced his divine ascendancy in order to keep the unity of his wrecked country. Despite the fact that his deed saved the lives of millions of people, the leaders of the ruling elite (which included China, Great Britain, the USSR and the US) demanded that Hirorito should be prosecuted by a military tribunal.

Ogata's performance is one of a kind. His diction is slowed-down as if he was under the effect of sedatives. His body language and facial expressions create an on-screen emperor with the skill of a brain surgeon and the sensitivity of a poet. His Hirorito is quirky, but endearing; a fascinating creature to behold. Another touching aspect of the film is the loyalty and anguish of those who assist him in his bunker, who almost can’t bear the sight of their divine emperor being humiliated, devoid of divinity and looking like he’s losing his sanity.

by Antonio Pasolini for
http://www. thelondonfilter.blogspot.com

chosen by mycosysafe

Castle bagging by Jim Richardson

2006-02-16T06:06:00.000-08:00

While in Wales, photographer Jim Richardson had a goal of seeing how many castles he could photograph in one day, a challenge he refers to as "castle bagging." On a Sunday morning Richardson ventured to the Beaumaris Castle, the last of the famous Welsh castles to be built. "I have always loved the Beaumaris Castle because it is such a storybook-looking place with the moat, the swans, and the ducks," says Richardson. "It is said to be the most perfect of the castles in its design."

published by http://www.nationalgeographic.com
chosen by mycosysafe

women are the roots, men are the leaves

2006-02-16T05:47:00.000-08:00

The Naxi People

Naxi live in the Lijiang Naxi Autonomous County, Yunnan Province and in Weixi, Zhongdian, Ninglang, Deqin, Yongsheng, Heqing, Jianchuan and Lanping counties, Yunnan Province.

Naxi speak a language from the Chinese-Tibetan language family. As of 1,000 years ago, they had pictographic characters, the "Dongba" script, and syllabic writing, the "Geba" script. That script itself could not be preserved, but since 1980 the Dongba Cultural Research Institute and ten old Naxi Shamans have worked on the translation of 1,000 written works into Chinese. In 1957, the Chinese government helped the Naxi design an alphabetical script.

The Naxi are matriarchal. In the past, children lived with their mothers, a woman was head of the family, women comprised the main labor force and property was passed to children through the mother. "Mother is the tree root and man is the leaf," says one of their songs

Naxi practice the Dongba religion, an unorganized, pantheistic religion with preachers named Dongba meaning "Wise Men." Dongba practice witchcraft, medicine and promote education, art and craftsmanship.

mycosysafe chose this

2006-02-16T05:38:00.000-08:00

life is an essential good

we should try to shield from

whatever reasons,

whether personal or ideal

that would deny it

mycosysafe

control arms, preserve life

2006-02-16T05:35:00.000-08:00

against the use of arms

L'enfant, The Child

2006-02-10T09:14:00.000-08:00

by the Belgian brothers Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne

Formal doubts for a formal perspective:

Can a movie be shot like a documentary film? can the actors be locked in their own roles with no oppportunities to make the plot progress if not in their own unchanged, pre-planned direction?

can reality be so stuck in its own premises?

shouldn't reality be taken more as a source of inspiration than as the images operator ultimate goal?

isn't creativity of images about that?

movies don't need to photograph in order to tell us what's reality is about , but they need to tell by means of photography.

mycosysafe

2006-02-10T09:08:00.000-08:00

Bruno, twenty. Sonia, eighteen. They live off Sonia's benefit and the thefts committed by Bruno and the kids in his gang. Sonia has just given birth to Jimmy, their child. How can Bruno become a father, being so carefree and living as he does for the present, solely concerned about the money from his deals?

by Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Palme d'Or 2005

2006-02-09T07:08:00.000-08:00

small is what my eyes can see

big is what my mind can imagine

mycosysafe

Always there is something

2006-02-07T06:08:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

La mort de Betty Friedan

2006-02-05T01:12:00.000-08:00

Betty Friedan en 1974 (AP)

L a philosophe américaine Betty Friedan, dont le manifeste "La femme mystifiée" (1963) posa les bases du mouvement féministe moderne, est décédée samedi 4 février, jour de ses 85 ans.

Une femme doit pouvoir dire, sans se sentir coupable: 'qui suis-je et qu'est-ce que je veux de la vie?' Elle ne doit pas se sentir égoïste et névrosée si elle se fixe des objectifs pour elle-même, en dehors du mari et des enfants", expliquait Betty Friedan, souvent considérée comme la "mère" du mouvement féministe américain.

Toutefois, dans le même temps, elle estimait que le mouvement des femmes ne devait pas se mettre en marge de la société américaine, que les femmes devaient accepter les hommes comme des alliés et que la famille ne devait pas être rejetée en bloc.

Betty Friedan a été la fondatrice et première présidente du groupe féministe américain National Organization for Women (NOW, Organisation nationale pour les femmes).

Adieu madame Friedan.

mycosysafe has chosen text and pic.

2006-02-04T02:57:00.000-08:00

"Sur les notions de tolérance et de liberté, on n’a pas cessé de s’affronter jusqu’aux Lumières. Voltaire a jeté les principes d’une civilisation lorsqu’il a écrit : « Je ne suis en rien d’accord avec ce que vous dites, mais je me battrai jusqu’à la mort pour que personne ne vous empêche de le dire. » C’était l’idée qu’il pouvait y avoir plusieurs vérités et que l’on avait la liberté d’en choisir une.Autrement dit, ces caricatures du journal danois peuvent être condamnées au nom de l’art et de la sensibilité. Mais elles ne peuvent pas être interdites au nom des principes d’une civilisation."

Jean Daniel à propos des caricatures danoises

chosen by mycosysafe

Indian Lights

2006-02-03T08:41:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

2006-02-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

grandma Mrs Rachele Franco two centuries ago

2006-01-29T01:31:00.000-08:00

you're so wonderful to me

received from patti smith

2006-01-29T01:24:00.000-08:00

greetings

it's been a long time since i have written.
i am in paris and it is friday january 27. i am lucky to attend the premier of don giovanni on mozart's 250th birthday.a truly revolutionary fellow,he wrote the overture the night before it debuted. he had to drink a few flasks of wine but he did it. a genius at making the establishment shudder as he approached deadlines, he played piano the opening night laughingly, shouting the proper notes to his fellow musicians.what a guy.
please celebrate.
you must have some mozart laying around. i have the requiem. let's all play him together.
i send all good wishes.
i am well and wearing fine black socks i bought in rome near the vatican.
life is good and better with mozart, patti smith

thank you for your greetings, patti!

Il pescatore 1969

2006-01-26T23:14:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo with the original cover of the

"45 giri" by Fabrizio De Andrè

The Fisherman

2006-01-25T05:09:00.000-08:00

In the shadow of the last sun
had dozed off a fisherman
and he had a furrow along his face as a kind of smile.

To the beach came an assassin
with two great eyes from childhood
two enormous eyes of fear
that were the mirrors of his risk.

And he asked the old man: give me the bread,
I have little time and too hunger
and asked the old man give: me the wine
I am thirsty I am an assassin.

To the light his eyes disclosed the old one
not even looking around ,
but poured the wine, and broke the bread for the one who said I am thirsty and I am hungry.

And it was the heat of a moment
then street again toward the wind
then again toward the sun behind the shoulders a fisherman.

Behind the shoulders a fisherman and the memory is already pain,
it is already the regret of one April played in the shadow of a courtyard.

Came in saddle two policemen
they came in saddle with the weapons
they asked the old one if an assassin had passed nearby.

But in the shadow of the last sun
had dozed off a fisherman and he had a furrow along the face as a kind of smile.

De Andre Fabrizio - The Fisherman
mycosysafe knows it by heart

For those who can't avoid thinking in a violent way

2006-01-25T04:57:00.000-08:00

All'ombra dell'ultimo sole
s'era assopito un pescatore
e aveva un solco lungo il viso
come una specie di sorriso.Venne alla spiaggia un assassino
due occhi grandi da bambino
due occhi enormi di paura
eran gli specchi di un avventura.E chiese al vecchio dammi il pane
ho poco tempo e troppa famee chiese al vecchio dammi il vino
ho sete sono un assassino.Gli occhi dischiuse il vecchio al giorno
non si guardò neppure intorno,ma versò il vino, spezzo il pane
per chi diceva ho sete e ho fame.E fu il calore di un momento
poi via di nuovo verso il vento
poi vi di nuovo verso il sole
dietro le spalle un pescatore.Dietro alle spalle un pescatore
e la memoria è già dolore,è già il rimpianto di un aprile
giocato all'ombra di un cortile.Vennero in sella due gendarmi
vennero in sella con le armi
chiesero al vecchio se lì vicino
fosse passato un assassino.Ma all'ombra dell'ultimo sole
s'era assopito il pescatoree aveva un solco lungo il viso
come una specie di sorriso.

Fabrizio De Andrè ( Italian songwriter)- Il Pescatore -The Fisherman

Italy changes its penal code in matter of self-defence.

2006-01-25T04:47:00.000-08:00

Roberto Castelli, Silvio Berlusconi's rightwing Italian government's justice minister had the Italian Parliament to pass new laws on self-defence yesterday, to allow people to kill intruders without fear of imprisonment.

Roberto Ottaviano

2006-01-23T05:09:00.000-08:00

"Splendide Ottaviano avec son limpide soprano… " (Thierry Quénum - Jazz Magazine - April 1996)

with Mal Waldron in 1997

mycosysafe chose the author and the picture

2006-01-23T04:59:00.000-08:00

"Just have the simple awareness that Heaven is within. Develop that inner awareness. That is the root to create Heaven on Earth"

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

What does mailart have to do with Braque and Picasso?

2006-01-20T08:44:00.000-08:00

Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso are said to have invented collage in 1912,
using only scissors and cheap commercial papers glued to their drawings.
This 20th century art-form is being examined at the Fundacion Miro in Barcelona.

http://www.euronews.net/create_html.php?page=lemag&lng=1

2006-01-20T08:39:00.000-08:00

It's been a hard week.......

Dogpig

2006-01-20T06:44:00.000-08:00

A d-collage by sghinopaullimo based on works by

Gene Ray George and Simon Baudhuin

and a text by David Byrne

a new start for Chile

2006-01-16T05:13:00.000-08:00

Michelle Bachelet elected Chile's first female president:

her victory consolidates a shift to the left in Latin America. Bachelet, who is expected to bring more women into public office, will be sworn in as president on March 11.

why don't learn more at:
http://www.euronews.net/create_html.php?page=accueil_info&article=331250&lng=1 ?

mycosysafe congratulates the female newly- elected president

Bari, seafront at St. George on a dreary morn

2006-01-16T04:55:00.000-08:00

taken in novembre 2005 by a LEICA R4 con 50mm f/2 camera and Fuji Superia 100 film.

by my eldest brother, Pierluigi

Susanneyes

2006-01-13T00:04:00.000-08:00

a d-collage based on works by pippoburro and Susanna Olson

by sghinopaullimo

2006-01-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

neither good ones nor bad ones: just people

Fairy tale and fate

2006-01-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

2006-01-09T04:59:00.000-08:00

my generation lost to the previous one
and
to the latest one
like
a
tree
with electric roots

once you've turned them on
you just think
about
turning them off.

It's like a crammed ship
swaying in the ocean storm.

It's like waking up
without even having gone to sleep.

mycosysafe has thought this.

Georges Moustaki

2006-01-07T08:58:00.000-08:00

on chante en français ce soir

2006-01-07T08:53:00.000-08:00

Ma solitude
de Georges Moustaki

Pour avoir si souvent dormi avec ma solitude
Je m'en suis fait presque une amie une douce habitude
Elle ne me quitte pas d'un pas fidèle comme une ombre
Elle m'a suivi çà et là aux quatre coins du monde
Non je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude

Quand elle est au creux de mon lit elle prend toute la place
Et nous passons de longues nuits tous les deux face à face
Je ne sais vraiment pas jusqu’où ira cette complice
Faudra-t-il que j'y prenne goût ou que je réagisse
Non je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude

Par elle j'ai autant appris que j'aie versé de larmes
Si parfois je la répudie jamais elle ne désarme
Et si je préfère l'amour d'une autre courtisane
Elle sera à mon dernier jour ma dernière compagne
Non je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude
Non je ne suis jamais seul avec ma solitude

Madcard

2006-01-03T07:07:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

The Apulian Radio and the Big Beat ( feat. Jim Morrison)

2006-01-02T10:43:00.000-08:00

..." Some call it heavenly in its brilliance
Others, mean and ruthful of the Western dream
I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft
We have constructed pyramids in honor of our escaping
This is the land where the Pharaoh died"
............

The Wasp ( Texas Radio and The Big Beat- L.A. Woman, The Doors)

Controradio speakers Gilda and Michele at work

can you figure out...

2006-01-02T10:38:00.000-08:00

what is the mysterious object Sghinopaullimo is looking at?

Happy 2006

2005-12-30T07:37:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo that wishes fantasy and love to all our friends.

2005-12-30T02:32:00.000-08:00

Hogamany & First Footing

The 31st of December in Scotland is a celebration with its roots in Pagan times, including that of "first footing." This custom states that the first foot inside your door after midnight will foretell of the next year's fortune. For this reason you would want an especially fortunate person to be the first to enter. New brides, new mothers, or anyone born on January 1st were much in demand as 'first footers."
It is said that it is especially good luck if your first footer is a tall dark man. That sounds like good luck to me, send him my way!

Christmas( by a Barese anonymous poet)

2005-12-30T02:22:00.000-08:00

In questa vigilia

piena di luci inutili, capitone

auguri e tanto chiasso

me ne sono andato in una chiesa, sono

stato zitto zitto

ho chiuso gli occhi ed ho sentito

la voce del Natale: " Ragazzi- mi diceva -dove andate?

non avete ancora capito che basta

un poco di amore, poco quanto la luce

di una candela per accendere tutte

le luci di stasera?"

In this eve

full of vain lights, eel

wishes and much racket

I went into a church, i stayed silent

I closed my eyes and I heard

the voice of Christmas: " Guys - He told me-where are you going to?

Haven't you understood yet that it takes

a little love, so little as

the light

of a candle to fire all

the lights of this night?

2005-12-29T01:41:00.000-08:00

To Elsie
by William Carlos Williams

The pure products of America
go crazy--
mountain folk from Kentucky
or the ribbed north end of
Jersey
with its isolate lakes and
valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves
old names
and promiscuity between
devil-may-care men who have taken
to railroading
out of sheer lust of adventure--
and young slatterns, bathed
in filth
from Monday to Saturday
to be tricked out that night
with gauds
from imaginations which have no
peasant traditions to give them
character
but flutter and flaunt
sheer rags-succumbing without
emotion
save numbed terror
under some hedge of choke-cherry
or viburnum-
which they cannot express--
Unless it be that marriage
perhaps
with a dash of Indian blood
will throw up a girl so desolate
so hemmed round
with disease or murder
that she'll be rescued by an
agent--
reared by the state and
sent out at fifteen to work in
some hard-pressed
house in the suburbs--
some doctor's family, some Elsie--
voluptuous water
expressing with broken
brain the truth about us--
her great
ungainly hips and flopping breasts
addressed to cheap
jewelry
and rich young men with fine eyes
as if the earth under our feet
were
an excrement of some sky
and we degraded prisoners
destined
to hunger until we eat filth
while the imagination strains
after deer
going by fields of goldenrod in
the stifling heat of September
Somehow
it seems to destroy us
It is only in isolate flecks that
something
is given off
No one
to witness
and adjust, no one to drive the car

Copyright © 1962 by William Carlos Williams. Used with permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be reproduced in any form without the written consent of the publisher.

chosen by mycosysafe

Dec 24th, 2006 Christmas Eve

2005-12-27T06:40:00.000-08:00

Natal

Jind a chessa vescìgghie

chien’ d’ lùsc’ inutil, capiton

augur e tanta iosa

je me ne so’ sciut jind a ‘na chièssie, so’ stat cit cit

so’ achièdut l’ècchie e so’ sendut

la voscie du Natal:"uagliò – me dicev – addò sciat ?

non sit angor capesciùt c’avast
nu picche d’amore, picche quant alla lùsc’

d’ ‘na cannela p’appiccià tutt’

le lùsc’ di ‘stasera?"

(anonimo barese)

an anonymous local poem for Christmas chosen by Mycosysafe

Cuore a nudo ( my naked heart)

2005-12-27T06:14:00.000-08:00

Mauro Ermanno Giovanardi ( stage name, Giò) has recently put on a show of 60s writer's songs.

Trying to refine song words to approach the true essence of voice he avoids use of computers or samplers just to reach freedom of expression.

The players to accompany him are: Paolo Milanesi (on trumpet) Fabio Barovero, (on piano and accordion), Lorenzo Corti (on guitar)

Bari 23rd dec.,2006 zenzeroclub

chosen and seen by Mycosysafe and Sghinopaullimo

life is but a dream of a dream ( La Crus)

2005-12-27T06:12:00.000-08:00

http://www.lacrus.com/

Sefardita music

2005-12-27T05:38:00.000-08:00

Sefarad is the Hebrew name for Spain, the second promise land for those many Hebrews that were driven away by Queen Isabel , The Catholic.

Hebrew music was nourrished from the different kinds of music it lived with. When this mixing of Arabic and Christian cultures was exiled it became popular in the Mediterranean countries from Portugal to Turkey, but also in the Americas and wherever it went it took inspiration from the cultures it met.

The Sefardita repertory is very large: from the most ancient romances to the contemporary authors. Sometimes it recalls North African music; sometimes that of Estern Europe ;sometimes it is instrumental dances; sometimes it is writer's songs.
The same melody, the same topics in the opposite poles of the world.

chosen and translated by Mycosysafe

22nd December, 2006

2005-12-27T05:26:00.000-08:00

Escargot and Sefarad live at San Gioacchino Church, in Ceglie Messapica , Br.

the picture was taken by Sghinopaullimo

Queenwings

2005-12-20T23:26:00.000-08:00

Long Live the Radio

2005-12-20T10:52:00.000-08:00

Piazza Regina Margherita

2005-12-20T10:45:00.000-08:00

via Portanuova 18 ( on your right)

2005-12-20T05:34:00.000-08:00

We got started on life.

deep deeep south ( Italy)

2005-12-20T05:31:00.000-08:00

clock tower and bell tower

a century-old pic

2005-12-17T01:20:00.000-08:00

grandma Rachel and grandpa Gaetano getting married, someday around a century ago, at their house in Maratea, south-west of Italy.

A Festival for local bands

2005-12-17T01:03:00.000-08:00

Meet avant-garde entertainment:

a 48-hour nonstop concert for 96 emerging Apulian bands, live on Controradio, Bari.Teatro Kismet, Bari.
Admission free.

long live live music!

chosen and seen by Mycosysafe and Sghinopaullimo

chosen by mycosysafe

The chicken

2005-12-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

A d-collage by sghinopaullimo

TIME

2005-12-16T02:13:00.000-08:00

Time is but the form of the inner sense, i.e. of the insight of ourselves and of our inner state.
In fact time can't be a determination of outer phenomena: it isn't either like shape or place, etc; on the contrary, it determines the relations of the representations in our inner state.
It is exactly because this inner insight has no shape at all, that we try to make up for this failing through the analogy and we represent the temporal series by a endlessly extended line wherein
multiplicity forms a one -dimension series. Thus from this line properties we argue all those of time, except this only one ; that the parts of the line are simultaneous whereas the parts of time are always consecutive. It follows that the same representation of time is an intuition since all its relations may be expressed by an outer insight.

Kant, An Essay on Pure Reason

translated by mycosysafe

2005-12-12T06:48:00.000-08:00

2005-12-11T01:24:00.000-08:00

Well,..............

2005-12-11T00:58:00.000-08:00

For money you can have everything it is said.
- No that is not true.
You can buy food, but not appetite;
medicine, but not health;
soft beds, but not sleep;
knowledge but not intelligence;
glitter, but not comfort;
fun, but not pleasure;
acquaintances, but not friendship;
servants, but not faithfulness;
grey hair, but not honour;
quiet days, but not peace.
The shell of all things you can get for money.
But not the kernel. That cannot be had for money.

Arne Garborg (1851-1924) Norwegian writer

chosen by sghinopaullimo

Elena plays the cello ( The Pertubazione at Bari,2/12/05)

2005-12-10T07:12:00.000-08:00

Gigi and Tommy, frontmen of The Pertubazione

2005-12-10T06:59:00.000-08:00

I Pertubazione

2005-12-10T06:38:00.000-08:00

The Pertubazione are a group of six musicians from Rivoli, near Turin, north-west of Italy.

They have been working on tracing a middle way between the bright world of independent music and the Italian classical art song.

The Pertubazione primarily write songs. Songs that try to open a world

to unveil a universe, an imagination and that find maturity in their fourth cd "Canzoni allo specchio"( Songs in the mirror) produced by Paolo Benvegnù whose "Chiedo alla polvere" ( I ask dust) is the first hit.

chosen and met by Mycosysafe and Sghinopaullimo

recurrent ways for evaluating life

2005-12-09T03:23:00.000-08:00

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

sex
religion
race
mother tongue
height
build
usual clothes store
usual hair style
usual husband
usual friends
city block
annual income

many may just consider some or few;
the majority of humans look at them all at the same time because, as you can see, there's a close relation running under them all.

mycosysafe

I'm female

2005-12-06T06:17:00.000-08:00

I'm not tough
droll or stoical.
I droop
after wine, sex
or intense conversation.
The streets coil around me
when they are empty
I'm female
I get scared

Dorothy Porter chosen by mycosysafe

Mouth

2005-12-05T07:11:00.000-08:00

2005-12-04T01:37:00.000-08:00

a kiss is a world

nobody(else) can break up

mycosysafe

Vladimir Solovev , a symbolist Russian poet

2005-12-03T06:48:00.000-08:00

The Sound of A Distant Waterfall...

The distant sound of a waterfall
Resounds through the forest,
Quiet joy wafts down
From the dusky heavens.

Just the white vault of the sky
Just the white dream of the earth...
My heart obediently fell silent,
All my worries drifted away.

Slow joy,
Everything flows together as if in sleep...
The distant sound of a waterfall
Resounds in the silence.

chosen by mycosysafe

A Maharishi's thought

2005-12-02T08:21:00.000-08:00

"Non lasciate che la mente sia coinvolta eccessivamente nel vostro lavoro se desiderate la pace." - Guru Dev
"Do not get the mind excessively involved in your employment if you desire peace."

- Guru Dev
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

Maybe in a dream

2005-11-29T07:42:00.000-08:00

a d-collage by sghinopaullimo

Museum Of Childhood, Edinburgh

2005-11-29T05:28:00.000-08:00

Described as 'the noisiest museum in the world'.
the Museum of Childhood is a favourite with adults and children alike.
It is a treasure house, crammed full of objects telling of childhood, past and present.

Opening Times:
Open January to December: Monday - Saturday: 10:00-17:00;
July & August: Sunday: 12:00-17:00

Canongate, Royal Mile, Edinburgh, City of Edinburgh, EH1 1TG

2005-11-29T05:05:00.000-08:00

John Steffler was born on the 13th Nov., 1947 in Toronto and grew up in a rural area near Thornhill, Ontario.
John Steffler currently lives in Corner Brook, Newfoundland, where he teaches in the English Department of Memorial University's Sir Wilfred Grenfell College.
John Steffler's books of poems include That Night We Were Ravenous ( McClelland and Stewart 1998), The Wreckage of Play ( McClelland and Stewart, 1988) and The Grey Islands ( McClelland and Stewart, 1985). His novel The Afterlife of George Cartwright was shortlisted for the 1992 Governor General's Award for fiction and won the Smithbooks/Books in Canada First Novel Award and the Thomas Raddall Atlantic Fiction Award.

The Green Insect

2005-11-29T04:55:00.000-08:00

The Green Insect

by John Steffler

I had a green insect, a kind that had never before been

seen, descendant of an ancient nation, regal, rigid in ritual.
It would sun itself on my windowsill,

stretching its legs one by one, its hinged joints, its swivel joints,

its claws, unfolding and folding its Swiss army knife implements.

It was ready for a landing on the moon.

Around my page it marched itself like a colour guard.

It halted, and its segments fell into place, jolting all

down the line.
It uncased its wings which glistened the way sometimes very

old things glisten: tortoiseshell fans, black veils,

lantern glass.

It was a plant with a will, an independent plant, an early

invention wiser than what we've arrived at now.

It was a brain coiled in amulets for whom nature is all

hieroglyphs.
People gawked, and a woman pointed a camera, and I

hesitated, but -- I did -- I held the insect up by its

long back legs like a badge, like my accomplishment, and the air flashed, and the insect twisted and fought,

breaking its legs in my fingertips, and hung
lunging, fettered with stems of grass,
and I laid it gently down on a clean page, but it wanted no convalescence,
it ripped up reality, it flung away time and space,
I couldn't believe the strength it had,
it unwound its history, ran out its spring in kicks and

rage, denied itself, denied me and my ownership,

fizzed, shrank, took off in wave after wave of murder,

and left nothing but this page faintly stained with

green.

Perspectives( while listening to a radio program)

2005-11-27T01:00:00.000-08:00

a world of complete light
is a world of darkness
outwardness
is
a
way
of
dreaming
outwardness
is
a
way
to
meet
reality
outwardness
is
a
way
to
give
things
a
meaning
and
to kill
idols

radio tre : Uomini e profeti. Letture: " Questioni di verità " Con Salvatore Natoli 3ª puntata Di Gabriella Caramore

A Baudelaire for winter times

2005-11-23T05:12:00.000-08:00

"The Cracked Bell"

How bittersweet it is, on winter's night,
To listen, by the sputtering, smoking fire,
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Rise, to the muffled chime of churchbell choir.
Lucky the bell—still full and deep of throat,
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
That rings, with faithful tongue, its pious note
Like an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!
My soul lies cracked; and when, in its despair,
Pealing, it tries to fill the cold night air
With its lament, it often sounds, instead,
Like some poor wounded wretch—long left for dead
Beneath a pile of corpses, lying massed
By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.

Find on Instinc

2005-11-21T06:38:00.000-08:00

Variety

2005-11-18T06:51:00.000-08:00

This is the cover of a little book in which there are four postcards by Sghinopaullimo.

a Maharishi's thought

2005-11-17T05:17:00.000-08:00

"La rabbia nasce dalla debolezza o dall'incapacità di realizzare un desiderio. Essa eccita la mente che perde l'equilibrio e il potere di discriminazione."

"Anger rises from weakness or inability to fulfill a desire. It excites the mind, which loses balance and power of discrimination."

2005-11-16T00:43:00.000-08:00

Dream Greetings