Another Stillness is the Move post
This is a translation of the monologue from the German Win Wenders-directed film Wings of Desire that Stillness is the Move’s lyrics are inspired by:
When the child was a child,
it walked with his arms swinging.
It wanted the stream to be a river,
the river a torrent,
and this puddle to be a sea.
When the child was a child,
it didn’t know it was a child.
Everything was full of life,
and all life was one.
When the child was a child,
it had no opinions about anything.
It had no habits.
It sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in his hair,
and didn’t make a picture when photographed.
When the child was a child,
it was the time of these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin and where does space ends?
Isn’t life under the sun just a dream? Isn’t what I see,
hear and smell only the illusion of a world before the world?
Does evil actually exist?
And are there people who are really evil?
How can it be that I, who am I,
didn’t exist before I came to be?
And that someday the one who I am will no longer be the me I am?
When the child was a child,
apples and bread were enough for it,
and it is still that way.
When the child was a child,
berries fell into its hands as only berries do,
and they still do.
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and they still do now.
On every mountain top,
it had a longing for a yet higher mountain,
and in every city it had a longing for a yet bigger city.
And it is still that way.
It reached for cherries in the treetop with the elation it still feels today.
It was shy with all strangers,
and it still is.
It awaited the first snow,
and it is still this way.
When the child was a child,
it threw a stick into a tree like a lance.
And it still quivers there today.
(by Peter Handke)
Leaving Las Warcraft…
(via smut-to-go)
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
(63 plays)Solange Knowles covers “Stillness Is The Move” by Dirty Projectors, does it AWESOMELY.
BEYONCE WHO?Dirty Projectors original:
Book recommendations?
… Because [people] are insensible to the phosphorescing of words, the fragrance of words, the noisesomeness of words, the tenderness or hardness, the dryness or juiciness of words,-the interchange of values in the gold, the silver, the brass and the copper of words:-Is that any reason why we should not try to make them hear, to make them see, to make them feel?
—Lafcadio Hearn
oh hi.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
of Montreal’s “Brush Brush Brush,” as heard on Yo Gabba Gabba!
(1 plays)
Watch the stream run by you
Watch the Indian chief
Wrapped in blue corn leaves drift by you
Watch you take root in the son’s palm
And rise out of the fire
No more being matchwood
Only rising higher
I wanna see you be the one whose first light
Harbors in the new day
And see you settle into yourself
And never be afraid
Now I take everything as a good sign
Because I’m in love
I take everything as a sign from God
And now I give myself to you alone
No more knives hang above me
Oh, B,
Please destroy me
Please destroy me
Please destroy me
puot:
(via ceronprime)
(via fabulations)
