Archive for December, 2016

otata 13 (January 2017)

goes on into winter the smell of apples

fortsætter ind i vinteren lugten af æbler

those quick remarks to show you’re cool crow

de dér hurtige bemærkninger for at vise du er cool krage

 

– Johannes S. H. Bjerg

otata 13 (January 2017)

Hansha Teki – an autumn testament – Home

Haiku and other writings.

Source: Hansha Teki – an autumn testament – Home

APL LUX – Made In Italy on Vimeo

Actress Zhao Tao’s performance gives ‘Mountains May Depart’ its heart – LA Times

Zhao Tao as Shen Tao in the movie “Mountains May Depart.” (Kino Lorber Inc.)

The moment the extraordinary actress Zhao Tao first appears in “Mountains May Depart,” line dancing to the Pet Shop Boys’ cover of “Go West,” she and writer-director Jia Zhangke (her husband and longtime creative partner) set an exquisitely nuanced mood, at once buoyant and elegiac. As if to confirm the undertow of nostalgia within the pop exuberance, the date “1999” appears on-screen.

Source: Actress Zhao Tao’s performance gives ‘Mountains May Depart’ its heart – LA Times

chinese night, mike horn | synthetic zero

Source: chinese night, mike horn | synthetic zero

At Shu Restaurant in West Hartford, Dishes With a Kick of Heat – The New York Times

Brigit Pegeen Kelly – The Leaving | 3quarksdaily

The Leaving

My father said I could not do it,
but all night I picked the peaches.
The orchard was still, the canals ran steadily.
I was a girl then, my chest its own walled garden.
How many ladders to gather an orchard?
I had only one and a long patience with lit hands
and the looking of the stars which moved right through me
the way the water moved through the canals with a voice
that seemed to speak of this moonless gathering
and those who had gathered before me.
I put the peaches in the pond’s cold water,
all night up the ladder and down, all night my hands
twisting fruit as if I were entering a thousand doors,
all night my back a straight road to the sky.
And then out of its own goodness, out
of the far fields of the stars, the morning came,
and inside me was the stillness a bell possesses
just after it has been rung, before the metal
begins to long again for the clapper’s stroke.
The light came over the orchard.
The canals were silver and then were not.
and the pond was–I could see as I laid
the last peach in the water–full of fish and eyes.
.

Brigit Pegeen Kelly
from To the Place of Trumpets
published by Yale

– See more at: http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2016/12/friday-poem-3.html#sthash.ZEjaBsZN.dpuf

Source: 3quarksdaily: Friday Poem