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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 2d

I usually don't reply with my own last four albums, but in this case I have a nice colour scheme going.

Cover for Out There by Eric Dolphy. A surrealist illustration, depicting an airship made of musical instruments flying over a giant metronome that stands atop a round hill, while the sun sets.

Eugène Ysaye, "Neiges d'antan" and other symphonic poems.
Illustration is a painting by Guillaume Vogels entitled "Panzanis painting in the snow" (Panzanis is seen from the back, in or at the edge of a forest of deciduous trees)

Galaxie 500 - On Fire
Two men and a woman seen through an orange filter. Low angle shot means we see an orange sky behind them.

Wire - Chairs Missing
A purple flower in a vase before a window. Grey drapes on both sides of the window, and behind it a grey sky.

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Reposted by Eyes

Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · Feb 4

and they are all screaming, and not only are there cataracts in their bulging eyes, but they are all blind, they stand leaning to one side in pieces and corroded from the acids around the collapsed graves, and blindly they scream in the darkness,they scream that this was awaiting them

Krasznahorkai

The eyes of a marble sculpture bust by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (dated 1619)
Entitled "The Damned Soul", it consists of the screaming head of a man.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 10d

Other word plays that come to mind :
- "Tirer un trait sur mes années" could mean both "strike them off" (with a pen) and "shoot an arrow at them" (which would cause them to flee)
- coche/coche (a notch on a stick or a tick on a list/a horse carriage)
Probably not helpful but who knows!

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 10d

It seems you made a play on the double meaning of "ticked off", so there's a chance that the original line had word play in it too.
Something like: j'ai barré (crossed out) les années et elles se sont barrées (took off)
Obviously not that, but remembering the pun might help you remember the line.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 11d

The original French:

Et, puisque tes lentes cadences
Rythment le pouls des soirs d'été,
Fais-nous croire que les cieux dansent
Parce qu'un aveugle a chanté.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 11d

I tried to translate Yourcenar's "Cantilène pour un Flûtiste Aveugle", with no success, except maybe (???) with the last stanza:

"And, since your steady cadences
Guide the heartbeat of summer nights,
Make us believe the sky dances
Because a blind man sang just right"

🖼️ Titian? (disputed)

A teenage boy with long curly hair, wearing a simple white tunic and a blue cape, holding a pipe in his right hand. Oil on canvas, circa 1515.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 15d

L'Avenir du Prolétariat was a pension fund, created in the 1890s. The buildings housed bourgeois families, but they belonged to the workers through the fund. Forty such buildings were enough to provide revenues to tens of thousands of retired workers.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 20d

"My eyes are like telescopes
I see it all backwards, but who wants hope?
If I ever catch that ventriloquist
I'll squeeze his head right into my fist"

Tom Verlaine, "Friction"

🖼️ Paul Klee, "Ventriloquist and Crier in the Moor"

A head of sorts, checkered in different hues of pink. The face seems to be upside down. The nose resembles that of a cat. There is no mouth. From a work in watercolor and ink on cardboard.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 25d

I'm in the town where the author of Das Passagen-Werk, fearing the Spanish authorities would not grant him passage into Spain, requested passage from Charon instead.
The Walter Benjamin memorial monument, aptly titled "Passages" is an underground stairway leading to the sea.

A view of the stairway from the upper steps. The light at the end is made blue by the sea.

Getting closer to the end, the ceiling disappears, offering a more open view of the sea, the sky and the land.

A glass pane prevents the visitors from going further, but the stairway goes on.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 26d

Every transmission tower along the road I'm driving on has a stork nest on top of it. Every single one.

A transmission tower in Spain, with a stork nest on top.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 26d

Good morning!
Upper-left pic is the view I had for breakfast. The others were taken yesterday in the same place (Albarracín, Spain)

The first rays of sunlight hit a Spanish village. Low mountains in the background, trees in the foreground.

The opposite viewpoint. Another part of the village, and behind it a hill with a medieval defensive wall running along the hillcrest.

Closer view of the wall. Partly cloudy sky.

The remains of a medieval castle, atop a cliff.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 26d

Are you familiar with this passage from Proust's "Swann's Way"?

"it would be my duty to shake out of the chemist's little package on to a plate the amount of lime-blossom required for infusion in boiling water. The drying of the stems had twisted them into a fantastic trellis, in the interlacings of which the pale flowers opened, as though a painter had arranged them there, grouping them in the most decorative poses. The leaves, having lost or altered their original appearance, resembled the most disparate things, the transparent wing of a fly, the blank side of a label, the petal of a rose, which had all been piled together, pounded or interwoven like the materials for a nest. A thousand trifling little details—a charming prodigality on the part of the chemist—details which would have been eliminated from an artificial preparation, gave me, like a book in which one reads with astonished delight the name of a person one knows, the pleasure of finding that these were sprigs of real lime-trees, like those I had seen, when coming from the train, in the Avenue de la Gare, altered indeed, precisely because they were not imitations but themselves, and because they had aged. And as each new character is..."

continued : "...merely a metamorphosis from something earlier, in these little grey balls I recognised green buds plucked before their time; but beyond all else the rosy, lunar, tender gleam that lit up the blossoms among the frail forest of stems from which they hung like little golden roses—marking, as the glow upon an old wall still marks the place of a vanished fresco, the difference between those parts of the tree which had and those which had not been "in colour"—showed me that these were indeed petals which, before filling the chemist's bag with their spring fragrance, had perfumed the evening air. That rosy candleglow was still their colour, but half-extinguished and deadened in the diminished life which was now theirs, and which may be called the twilight of a flower. Presently my aunt would dip a little madeleine in the boiling infusion, whose taste of dead leaves or faded blossom she so relished, and hand me a piece when it was sufficiently soft."

Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 26d

"you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye"

Margaret Atwood (from "Power Politics")

📷 Arthur Hertz, "untitled photo that became the cover art for Mr Bungle's second album Disco Volante

A person wearing mascara, holding a weird abyss-dwelling, hook-shaped fish close to her eye, so that it partly circles it. The fish is small (its head just a little bigger than the person's cornea). The photo is in black and white.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 27d

Here is the full collage. It is captioned "The Immaculate Conception"

A naked woman lies sensually under the keyboard of an organ. The previously described head belongs to the organ. The caption suggests that the organ is a manifestation of the Holy Ghost, hence the eery, disembodied, hairless, oversize head.

Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 27d

"Now I feel plenty
It's only my way of touching
What you cannot see
Only this is mine
Come closer, closer to me
I come from far away
Where you are not
Where are my eyes?
There are rings on my fingers
But where, where
Where are my hands?"

Red Crayola, "Former Reflections, Enduring Doubt"

🖼️ M. Ernst

From "La Femme 100 Têtes" (1929)
The upper half of a head. A horizontal line is drawn tangentially to the eyebrows, and downward pointing triangles emerge from this line, which accentuate the eerily geometric shape of the head.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 27d

Eyes of Granada.

The eye of a giant creature whose wide open mouth represents the mouth of Hell, from the "Tríptico del Gran Capitán" (Limoges enamel, attributed to the Penicaud brothers, circa 1500)

The eye of a satyr-like figure which ornates one of the large bronze rings embedded in the walls of the Palace of Charles V (I suppose they were used to tie horses)

The eyes of Eloisa Fernández, mother of famed guitarist and composer Ángel Barrios, as painted in 1901 by French painter Charles-Frédéric Lauth.

My own eye, reflected in a mirror.
Look I needed four pics.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

The quote by Mallarmé goes:

Souvenir, il disait, alors, si bien : « L’œil, une main.. » que je ressonge.

I will never attempt to translate Mallarmé. Mallarméan is a language of its own, one that I can hear, but not speak.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

"The eye: a hand"

Attributed to Edouard Manet by Stéphane Mallarmé

🖼️ Victor Brauner, "Composition with a Portrait"

A figure holding their hand before their seemingly featureless face. The hand has two eyes just above the wrist. When you lool closely, the black hair seen floating in the wind also seem to belong to the hand, rather than the head behind it.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

Drop some eyes

From Lorenzo Lotto's "Portrait of a Young Man whith a Lamp", the eyes of the young man. His right lid appears to be a little droppy, which gives him a "brooding look" that's not without charm.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

I'd like to have come up with "sirroundins", but I was really just trying to type surroundings. My auto-correct is not set to English.
As for the inflorescence, the tree (a carob tree) grows it itself of course, but you have to admit it looks like a parasitic invasion.
(picture not mine)

Many inflorescences spurting out of large tree branches.

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Reposted by Eyes

John Latta @lattaj.bsky.social · Sep 14

Out of William Carlos Williams’s “Prologue to Kora in Hell” (1920): “A poem is tough by no quality it borrows from a logical recital of events nor from the events themselves but solely from that attenuated power which draws perhaps many broken things into a dance giving them thus a full being.”

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

Forgot the alt text. First pic is two vultures in flight, second pic is one vulture in flight.

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

The best part of the hike was seeing lots of vultures.
The thing with vultures is, they're not shy, they will fly by you, you will hear the loud woosh of their wings, but by the time you take your phone out of your pocket, they'll be too far to take a good shot.
So all I've got for you is this:

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · 29d

Since I have managed to take an (underwhelming) cricket shot, I feel authorized to do a hike recap.
And no, the cricket pic is not in black and white.

The view looking down into a gorge, with a big potato-shaped rocky protuberance standing on the edge.

Some weird flower that seems to grow on trees.

A cricket, perfectly blending with its sirroundins (Shades of grey on a grey stone)

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Eyes @tmariis.bsky.social · Sep 15

A Tragedy (silk and butterfly wing, 2025)

The remains of a butterfly (black and orange wing) in a spider web.

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