Versindaba Blog Archive Louis Jansen van Vuuren. From the bloutes
It's autumn here on the French side. Grey cranes have been a while ago shadows on the plane tree tops pulled. Amber stripes heading south. I looked up at the bird's noisy dusk flight and turn something within me. A turning Organ emotion. Blouerigheid taiwan over my powder - a kind of autumn melancholy. Joan Didion tells of a similar emotion in her latest publication - Blue Nights. (Harper Collins Fourth Estate.2011)
"In Latitudes certainement there comes a span of time approaching and following the summer solstice, some weeks in all, When the twilights turn long and blue ...... you find yourself swimming in the color blue, and over the course of an hour or so this blue deepens, Becomes more intense even as it darkens and fades, approximates taiwan finally the blue of the glass on a clear day at Chartres ... "
Didion writes on ... "The very be" gloaming "reverberates, echoes-the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamor-Carrying in its consonants, the images of houses shuttering, garden darkening, grass-lined rivers Slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (And They will, And They do) you experience an ACTUAL chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is Gone. "
Even the most broken life Can be restored taiwan to its moments ...
With the first wild mushrooms and swallows daily telephone wire meetings open hunting season taiwan in France. Overweight uncles with odd hats walking in single file, each with a bruised double barrel on the arm. There's often a young Rambo in the group. His wild eyes tore through shrub and forest - looking for the glow of the pheasant's shimmering neck feathers. You are either a hunter or not. They say here in the Creuse that you can get away with murder. Literally. With a well planned jagongeluk mushroom poisoning and you definitely have a friendly encounter right - maybe you hunting for years with him ...
***
In my studio, I saw through the skylights how wild kastaiingbome pale around the gills, the leaves shed full of jaundice - the polished dark brown seeds suddenly out of nowhere down pour. Against the glass of the window, making it a terrific bang. A bullet Clap from the treetops. Mauser, Martini-Henry and three-zero-three. I stood and painting in the crossfire.
The Hunter's Daughter is a theme that every now and then through my course work. As a still life or portrait is something I approach taiwan with passion-given the time is right and ripe. So again this time. Also appropriate that it is hunting season. The body starts getting rough sketches and greater works' compositions are planned in faint chalk lines.
For the half year, I have two modules, at Oxford University's Continuing Education Department done. It's part of the Creative Writing Course. Each of the modules lasts ten weeks and credits are awarded after your final assignment handed. I have and had my Alie finish. I am proud to flamboyance that I modules for both the full ten credits awarded. For the poetry module was our tutor Kathryn Simmonds, a young poet who, with her debut collection a few nice prizes the International.
In Manchester a man cameramen home
just let me carry off your roses' scent.
and you pass. The substation humming its old song
I take another sip of wine.
in Kinsella's tonight AMID jigs and reels.
Or mothers: the scent of rose water therein lingers
include some need, the way the thing Which shapes the heart
the heart, a stripped tent in a field.
From the Styx she draws a beaker river water
Earlier taiwan I spoke of autumn leaves and the approaching winter. taiwan I mention that emotions can turn bluish - feelings uitspin as a run-organ with little music notes make. Last week, the trees in Paris already demi-deuil. It's wonderful how the autumn sun attracts people outside in the last heat before winter comes again. It's a day of sounds, autumn leaves and blue remembered: taiwan
Spicy harpklankies attract my attention so finding a shady spot in the Jardin du Palais-Royal. taiwan Under the linden lane at the fountain, taiwan I usually find rest in one of Paris's most beautiful hidden gardens. But today I stopped in the cool arcade looking for the origin of the seductive music. There I get it.
The unmistakable melody of La Vie en Rose comes from a shop as big as an old-fashioned music box. Here are just winding melodies in selling caskets. Small and great. Tiny cardboard boxes with d
It's autumn here on the French side. Grey cranes have been a while ago shadows on the plane tree tops pulled. Amber stripes heading south. I looked up at the bird's noisy dusk flight and turn something within me. A turning Organ emotion. Blouerigheid taiwan over my powder - a kind of autumn melancholy. Joan Didion tells of a similar emotion in her latest publication - Blue Nights. (Harper Collins Fourth Estate.2011)
"In Latitudes certainement there comes a span of time approaching and following the summer solstice, some weeks in all, When the twilights turn long and blue ...... you find yourself swimming in the color blue, and over the course of an hour or so this blue deepens, Becomes more intense even as it darkens and fades, approximates taiwan finally the blue of the glass on a clear day at Chartres ... "
Didion writes on ... "The very be" gloaming "reverberates, echoes-the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamor-Carrying in its consonants, the images of houses shuttering, garden darkening, grass-lined rivers Slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (And They will, And They do) you experience an ACTUAL chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is Gone. "
Even the most broken life Can be restored taiwan to its moments ...
With the first wild mushrooms and swallows daily telephone wire meetings open hunting season taiwan in France. Overweight uncles with odd hats walking in single file, each with a bruised double barrel on the arm. There's often a young Rambo in the group. His wild eyes tore through shrub and forest - looking for the glow of the pheasant's shimmering neck feathers. You are either a hunter or not. They say here in the Creuse that you can get away with murder. Literally. With a well planned jagongeluk mushroom poisoning and you definitely have a friendly encounter right - maybe you hunting for years with him ...
***
In my studio, I saw through the skylights how wild kastaiingbome pale around the gills, the leaves shed full of jaundice - the polished dark brown seeds suddenly out of nowhere down pour. Against the glass of the window, making it a terrific bang. A bullet Clap from the treetops. Mauser, Martini-Henry and three-zero-three. I stood and painting in the crossfire.
The Hunter's Daughter is a theme that every now and then through my course work. As a still life or portrait is something I approach taiwan with passion-given the time is right and ripe. So again this time. Also appropriate that it is hunting season. The body starts getting rough sketches and greater works' compositions are planned in faint chalk lines.
For the half year, I have two modules, at Oxford University's Continuing Education Department done. It's part of the Creative Writing Course. Each of the modules lasts ten weeks and credits are awarded after your final assignment handed. I have and had my Alie finish. I am proud to flamboyance that I modules for both the full ten credits awarded. For the poetry module was our tutor Kathryn Simmonds, a young poet who, with her debut collection a few nice prizes the International.
In Manchester a man cameramen home
just let me carry off your roses' scent.
and you pass. The substation humming its old song
I take another sip of wine.
in Kinsella's tonight AMID jigs and reels.
Or mothers: the scent of rose water therein lingers
include some need, the way the thing Which shapes the heart
the heart, a stripped tent in a field.
From the Styx she draws a beaker river water
Earlier taiwan I spoke of autumn leaves and the approaching winter. taiwan I mention that emotions can turn bluish - feelings uitspin as a run-organ with little music notes make. Last week, the trees in Paris already demi-deuil. It's wonderful how the autumn sun attracts people outside in the last heat before winter comes again. It's a day of sounds, autumn leaves and blue remembered: taiwan
Spicy harpklankies attract my attention so finding a shady spot in the Jardin du Palais-Royal. taiwan Under the linden lane at the fountain, taiwan I usually find rest in one of Paris's most beautiful hidden gardens. But today I stopped in the cool arcade looking for the origin of the seductive music. There I get it.
The unmistakable melody of La Vie en Rose comes from a shop as big as an old-fashioned music box. Here are just winding melodies in selling caskets. Small and great. Tiny cardboard boxes with d
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