Wednesday, 14 January 2015

The Raven

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.




Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing sleeveless jacket Zara, vintage knit with silk details Armani, trousers Stefanel, rock stud heels Valentino


Excerpt from The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe





Monday, 5 January 2015

This is Home

Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street, doors, where my heart was used to beat so quickly, waiting for a hand, a hand that can be clasped no more - behold me, for I cannot sleep, and like a guilty thing I creep at earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away the noise of life begins again, and ghastly through the drizzling rain on the bald street breaks the blank day.


Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing black blazer, culottes Asos, Jil Sander heels, Candybag Athens leather bag


Poem: "Dark House, By Which Once More I Stand" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Petersson

“Just like a man,” Sam said. “Just like folks. Put off as long as she could having to be brave, knowing all the time that sooner or later she would have to be brave to keep on living with herself, and knowing all the time beforehand what was going to happen to her when she done it.”
That afternoon, himself on the one-eyed wagon mule which did not mind the smell of blood nor, as they told him, of bear, and with Sam on the other one, they rode for more than three hours through the rapid, shortening winter day. They followed no path, no trail even that he could see; almost at once they were in a country which he had never seen before. Then he knew why Sam had made him ride the mule which would not spook. The sound one stopped short and tried to whirl and bolt even as Sam got down, blowing its breath, jerking and wrenching at the rein, while Sam held it, coaxing it forward with his voice, since he could not risk tying it, drawing it forward while the boy got down from the marred one.


Photography A Pink Moon Camera 
(except for the bear which was found on the perilous woods of google)

Wearing shoes, jumper and dress worn as skirt Zara, fur snood, Gucci purse

Excerpt from William Faulkner's The Bear





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Saturday, 27 December 2014

Hey Moon

I would hate for you to hang there all alone
The whole night through

Hey moon
My old friend
Hey moon
The night is coming to an end
Hey moon
Come back soon




Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing Christopher Kane similar here dress, leather bag Candybag, espadrilles Zara, make up by Korres 

Excerpt from Hey Moon - John Maus

Wednesday, 24 December 2014

Akiko

Akiko means bright child. Peaceful though it might be, it booms and chimes from the vaulted ceilings of the clouds. It tingles its sparkle and drives off in imaginary trails gleaming like linoleum knives. A being of no address, like Saint Nicholas, frequently roams around a bunch of shifting ice floes or stays up all night against artificial phosphorous lights for no other reason than to offer fuchsia extract to the sky. 


Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing Akira Mushi raincoat, vintage Cacharel turtleneck, Jil Sander heels, Acne Studios sunnies

Thursday, 18 December 2014

Surrender

It is not native here that may be the one thing we are sure of it came from somewhere else perhaps alone so keeps on calling for no one who is here hoping to be heard by another of its own unlikely origin trying once more the same few notes that began the song of an oriole last heard years ago in another existence there…

 

Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing oversized pink coat similar here, cropped knit , old LAK knot skirt a better one here, fur booties Acne, diy sticker-clutch

Excerpt from W.S. Merwin 


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Saturday, 13 December 2014

Rowing

But I grew, I grew,
and God was there like an island I had not rowed to,
still ignorant of Him, my arms, and my legs worked,
and I grew, I grew,
I wore rubies and bought tomatoes
and now, in my middle age,
about nineteen in the head I'd say,
I am rowing, I am rowing
though the oarlocks stick and are rusty
and the sea blinks and rolls
like a worried eyeball,
but I am rowing, I am rowing,
though the wind pushes me back
and I know that that island will not be perfect,
it will have the flaws of life,
the absurdities of the dinner table,
but there will be a door
and I will open it
and I will get rid of the rat inside me,
the gnawing pestilential rat.
God will take it with his two hands
and embrace it.



Photography A Pink Moon Camera

Wearing cotton shirt, wide legged pants similar here, custom made bag, Céline pumps, coat Akira Mushi, rings Nandel Paris, Gregio, make up by Shiseido



Poem excerpt from Anne Sexton


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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.