Friday, 22 August 2014

Meniscus

"Generally, the term 'meniscus' often refers to the cartilage of the knee, either to the lateral and medial menisci. Both are cartilaginous tissues that provide structural integrity to the knee when it undergoes tension and torsion." 
That was a sterile wikipedia copy. All I know, is that the meniscus incites hauling dogs at witching hour, pain management issues and nightmares of severed legs and obsidian wheelchairs. It also evokes the memorable Dr House somber recitation: "I'm in pain" and Giles' solemn "Aren't we all?" response after that short contemplative pause. Aren't we all?



Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing dress asοs, gold pumps Céline, leather bag Thalatta Concept, sunnies vintage Fendi (first picture), and handmade

                                                                                                 
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Saturday, 16 August 2014

McCloud River Railroad

She plants skies of dawn, I unearth sea foam before Easter Sunday. Together we feel unimportant but we walk hand in hand toward luminous grasses. Unseen black feathered child over the roof of houses at night; your feet naked - my veins raise a neon green voice. 



Wearing boyfriend jeans, Poupée cotton and silk top, Jil Sander pumps, Louis Vuitton  minisacs

                                                Excerpt from my own poetry work                                                 
                                                                                                 
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Monday, 11 August 2014

A Woman of No Importance

“Mrs Allonby: Is she such a mystery?
Lord Illingworth: She is more than a mystery - she is a mood.
Mrs Allonby: Moods don't last.
Lord Illingworth: It is their chief charm.” 
― Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance



Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing silk taffeta halter neck top similar, silk pants Dries Van Noten vintage last worn here, custom made fur heels very much alike these

                                                         
                                                                                                 
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Sunday, 10 August 2014

Idea of Order at Key West

If it was only the dark voice of the sea that rose, or even colored by many waves; If it was only the outer voice of sky and cloud, of the sunken coral water-walled, however clear, it would have been deep air, the heaving speech of air, a summer sound repeated in a summer without end and sound alone. But it was more than that, more even than her voice, and ours, among the meaningless plungings of water and the wind, theatrical distances, bronze shadows heaped on high horizons, mountainous atmospheres of sky and sea […] In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.
Wallace  Stevens


Photography A Pink Moon Camera

                                                         
                                                                                                 
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Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Summer Song

Wanderer moon smiling a faintly ironical smile at this brilliant, dew-moistened summer morning,— a detached sleepily indifferent smile, a wanderer’s smile,— if I should buy a shirt your color and put on a necktie sky-blue where would they carry me?

William  Carlos Williams


Photography A Pink Moon Camera

                                                         
                                                                                             
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Monday, 4 August 2014

For Once, Then, Something

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs always wrong to the light, so never seeing deeper down in the well than where the water gives me back in a shining surface picture me myself in the summer heaven godlike looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs. Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb, I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture, through the picture, a something white, uncertain, something more of the depths—and then I lost it. Water came to rebuke the too clear water. One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple shook whatever it was lay there at bottom, Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness? Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something. 

Robert Frost



Photography A Pink Moon Camera

                                                         
                                                                                                 
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Monday, 28 July 2014

"Staring at The Sun, Happy to Go Blind"

A short pause to summer underneath cold sheets in between frail muscles and freshly painted sky blue doors. Where cats sing their meows wetting their paws in pink hued seawater and knives are carved in poetry. 



Wearing plaid sheer shirt like this one, trousers Marni for H&M another version here, old gold bag, vintage Prada slingback, sunnies similar on

                                                         
                                                                                                 
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My Photo
Cloudline Chic Flows is a blog about self consciously deconstructed reformist mannered elegance, swings, distant sound of dogs barking at sunset, smell of freshly cut lawn, peaches at dusk, long walks on dusty country streets,perennial drives, cupcakes, pylons, echo of empty classrooms, 1997, the dream, suburbs,treehouses,flying in sleep, ice-cubes, wooden fences at noon,birdies, peoplespotting, cicadas in summer yard, absurd subversive poetry, singing alone, keep self at home, cats and straight highways.