(no subject)
Коротко запишу для себя. Есть одна вещь, по которой я безошибочно опознаю: "мое-не мое". Я про себя ее опознаю, как интеллектуальная эмоция. Отлитая в очень четкую форму, но при этом с живым содержанием. Она очень осознанная, это не то, что выливается через поэта, или музыканта, или писателя, или художника напрямую без его участия. Это сплав того потока, что идет сквозь, и своего человеческого, при опять же полном осознании своего места в этом процессе. Способность отойти от своих чувств и посмотреть на них со стороны и в то же время продолжать их чувствовать.
И вот это внешнее спокойствие и бездна внутри и есть оно. Плюс культурный бэкграунд за спиной.
Для меня это Бродский, Гленн Гоулд, Бах
А вот БГ и Пинхасов - нет, хотя люблю обоих.
Dark Winter draws a very clear line at anything that smells like B.S. Unlike the Summers, they will not necessarily keep your feelings safe. In colour, this translates as heavy, humorless, dark, unfriendly, morose, somber, and solemn. Don’t email me to say that this vision is grim and depressing. I’ll email back to say that your interpretation forgot the counterbalances that the hawk brings to the kingdom. Piercing focus, deep introspection, and the majestic, solitary stand-apart-ness that gets noticed first.
There is a core of stillness and hardness in Winter people. You can feel the steel rod down the center, and if tested, it will not bend, no matter how lightweight they seem on the surface. The palpable presence of that steel rod is the source of the strong vertical line element that I find works so well in the appearance of Dark Winter clothing.
At the center of Winter is a titanium wire - wait, this is Dark Winter, make that a tungsten cable. Its strength is not in Autumn’s sturdy squareness, but rather in its thin linearity. Winter is the conflict, even the contradiction, of everything and nothing, black and white, playing themselves out at the same time. Winter is the superstar who never feels good enough, who thinks herself a loser. In True Winter, where the polarities are most widely apart, the line between the two becomes thinnest, near invisible, just a fold in a force field. You can feel the hinge but you can’t see it, like the flip side that must always be, eternal and joined as matter and anti-matter.
И вот это внешнее спокойствие и бездна внутри и есть оно. Плюс культурный бэкграунд за спиной.
Для меня это Бродский, Гленн Гоулд, Бах
А вот БГ и Пинхасов - нет, хотя люблю обоих.
Dark Winter draws a very clear line at anything that smells like B.S. Unlike the Summers, they will not necessarily keep your feelings safe. In colour, this translates as heavy, humorless, dark, unfriendly, morose, somber, and solemn. Don’t email me to say that this vision is grim and depressing. I’ll email back to say that your interpretation forgot the counterbalances that the hawk brings to the kingdom. Piercing focus, deep introspection, and the majestic, solitary stand-apart-ness that gets noticed first.
There is a core of stillness and hardness in Winter people. You can feel the steel rod down the center, and if tested, it will not bend, no matter how lightweight they seem on the surface. The palpable presence of that steel rod is the source of the strong vertical line element that I find works so well in the appearance of Dark Winter clothing.
At the center of Winter is a titanium wire - wait, this is Dark Winter, make that a tungsten cable. Its strength is not in Autumn’s sturdy squareness, but rather in its thin linearity. Winter is the conflict, even the contradiction, of everything and nothing, black and white, playing themselves out at the same time. Winter is the superstar who never feels good enough, who thinks herself a loser. In True Winter, where the polarities are most widely apart, the line between the two becomes thinnest, near invisible, just a fold in a force field. You can feel the hinge but you can’t see it, like the flip side that must always be, eternal and joined as matter and anti-matter.