Fireworks, Spectacular
Check out this impressive collection of photographs of fireworks from Digital Picture Zone.
Have a Happy 4th!
Check out this impressive collection of photographs of fireworks from Digital Picture Zone.
Have a Happy 4th!
I'm not going to cry all the time
nor shall I laugh all the time,
I don't prefer one "strain" to another.
I'd have the immediacy of a bad movie,
not just a sleeper, but also the big,
overproduced first-run kind. I want to be
at least as alive as the vulgar. And if
some aficionado of my mess says "That's
not like Frank!", all to the good! I
don't wear brown and grey suits all the time,
do I? No. I wear workshirts to the opera,
often. I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart--
you can't plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.
by Frank O'Hara
I loved this piece by Becca Klaver published on Delirious Hem earlier this month. Delicious. Do you love it too? Please say you do.

In the wind , Mini moleskine page 11
Originally uploaded by Alkaline Samurai
This man's journals inspire me, even on a Monday.
Pulse (above)
Molecular Intelligence (below)
This week I discovered a new favorite, The Kindred Site. You can find art and artists there. Once each season they proffer divine desktop art. This one (above) is by Sarah Ahearn.
And this one is by Jessica Gonacha.
I like everything I post on Big Window, but for some reason I'm totally ENTHRALLED by these collages by Colin Jenkinson that I found on flickr. Yes, they are from his "little black books," and No, it isn't even Moleskine Monday. Can't we have moleskine on Friday every now and then?
I thought you might be persuaded. To see more work by this graphic artist from Brighton, UK, click here.
Tail turned to red sunset on a juniper crown a lone magpie cawks.
Mad at Oryoki in the shrine-room -- Thistles blossomed late afternoon.
Put on my shirt and took it off in the sun walking the path to lunch.
A dandelion seed floats above the marsh grass with the mosquitoes.
At 4 A.M. the two middle aged men sleeping together holding hands.
In the half-light of dawn a few birds warble under the Pleiades.
Sky reddens behind fir trees, larks twitter, sparrows cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep.
by Allen Ginsberg
I read about this plan for an elementary school in Berlin on Design Boom. Here's the scoop:
berlin based susanne hoffmann architects created the 'die baupiloten' program to design innovative school environments. the erika mann elementary school II is one of their latest projects, designed in collaboration with the school’s students. the concept involves an imaginary landscape for the fictitious silver dragon. around this theme the architects create a playful environment that is realized in different areas of the school. the upper floor features a modular seating system with ‘fire claws’ called ‘the snuffle of the silver dragon’. below, the ‘chill room’ features a landscape of seating pedestals surrounded by petals and the second story features the ‘snuffle garden’ complete with horizontal and slopped surface for sitting and playing. the landscapes provide the children with unusual environments to play and stimulate their creativity.
You can read about the firm that designed the school it here.

I drew a heart everytime I thought of you today
Originally uploaded by xdesx is inspiration-less
Happy Moleskine Monday, dear reader.
The new issue of Born Magazine is wonderful.
Zoology
Writer: Sasha West / Artist: Ernesto Lavandera
I Can No Longer Think.
Writer: Emma Ramey / Artists: Moto Interactive / Isaac Ruiz
Beautiful!
There's a volcano in my Alaska, a Paris
in my mesa and the bulldog
at the wheel looks at me with her awful
eyes and says "Sandra, there's no time for
a vinyasa, so skedaddle," and in
dog paddling to the Eiffel Tower I see
the shenanigans of topography,
the loop-a-doop shooting stars crushing under their own weight,
outrageously obese men and women
strolling down main street, happy as
snapping fingers to the brain stem's want, the penny
slots spitting rednecks as the song goes
"there's a crater in my Moscow, a hickey
on my Himalaya, a quicksand pit
on my 9th Tokyo, a Yucatan on this meteor impact
more idiotic than the Patriot Act, more
ancy than Shay's rebellion," so drop a few
bouillon cubes in this verb
brimming stew and call it petroleum,
the new gold!, a wasp that flies
into the vehicle and makes you double over
the yellow lines for good measure.
This poem is by Sandra Simonds, author of Warsaw Bikini.
Published in Columbia Poetry Review
Republished by Verse Daily®
Photo by Deconstructtheworld via flickr
For the subterraneans, here's some news for you.
A line of hills
Then a line of hills where the grass ends
And heat travels through trees
Into a happiness
Akin to the great happiness of imaginary children
Whitens the sky
How wonderful and final
My life becomes
The grit of the deathbed earth grows soft
A flight of swifts
Lifts an agate meadow to the sky
Kittenish alpine blown-apart dandelion
I have caught sight of my true friend
Rounding the hillside in his cloak of rain
by Donald Revell
published in the Columbia Poetry Review
republished by Verse Daily®

there
Originally uploaded by petite artichoke
This is the photograph that I'm pairing with Donald Revell's poem that begins, "A line of trees." It will be posted tomorrow.
Here's something really cool: map meets visual poetry. Check out the complete collection at Ork Posters.