Gaudí’s Casa Batlló, Barcelona



Originally posted on Alastair Savage:

Casa BatlloLike his Renaissance forbears, Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, the Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí left many of his works incomplete at the time of his death on 26 June 1926, three weeks after he had been struck by a tram in the centre of Barcelona. All three men were working at the very forefront of human achievement and their services were constantly in demand so it is no surprise that so many of their projects started and were then discarded.

In the case of Gaudí, there are unfinished works scattered all around Barcelona. The mosaic-lined walls of Park Güell were intended to surround an entire neighbourhood of homes, shops and markets but only a couple of houses were eventually built. Visitors to the Colònia Güell in the west of the city can see the crypt of an intended church that was never finished because the money ran out. Meanwhile, work continues on the Sagrada…

View original 499 more words

Slip knot round my heart

You ply and play
The chords
Like chrome
Cool steel coy bleak
Comes fire & in that,
We all forget

Those moments
Regretted in silence
Until no longer
Any pain
Can be remit
The scour of her soul rants
In his arms,
He chides
but knows
as she knows
they decided in a private letter
Self-destroyed together
In that gold hot room
Mrs. Bernard thanks you so much.

I am fine, I am always
Fine, you know that.
For some reason,
you knew that
before I knew to even
Tell you that &
Why would I do that
Except your virtual shush machine
Vertigo candy stripe mode
Hands off
She’s mine
Love in the afternoon
Which would be
Throughout history
In imagination
And fantasy
And multimillion dollar
Sin City Novella Franchise
You in? I need help choosing
A costume…


Celebrate Urban Rock Birds


Love the idea!

Originally posted on Raxa Collective:

With over a week of working with other grades at the elementary school in Tacacorí, I’ve seen lots of really great paintings of birds on locally-found stones, and even one or two chunks of cement. After finding around seventy-odd rocks around Xandari that were mostly usable for this art project and scrubbing them all of mud and moss, I

View original 212 more words

Time is a transitive

Verb as it is always in action, a relative, in motion, never quite what we think before it happens, never quite enough, or way too much. It’s never right, this thing called time. It messes with us all our lives. I know if I had more of it, I wouldn’t stress about wasting it, or if there was plenty of time to do what life required of you to be simply happy, but how can you be, when there is an ounce of suffering much less beheading as an emblem of hatred, this global fuel of violence, a tinder waiting to catch and where will you be? And are you innocent? Who could ever claim such a thing, unless you were an infant? And then, you would never have the consciousness to do so that’s really the only time the human race is absolved of irreparable guilt over just breathing, after so many years. We blew it a long time ago and then there’s no way to tell so you end up being in exile or an asshole and go back and forth just to survive, that’s just the way it is, everyone succumbs, I believe, even Mother Theresa maybe sometime in her life had to make a choice to live and was not the glorious example of a human being, who knows, who cares, there are enough schmucks and evildoers ten times over to make up for any living saint, and there seem to be fewer in our life times than in those before.

But, I digress.

Time is of the essence.

a single sunbeam (Tan Renga challenge)

Originally posted on Traces of the Soul:

I love this tan renga challenge. Mark’s haiku is beautiful. It can be translated in many interpretations, one of autumn leaves a natural street art…graffiti.

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14  two blocks from my work

When I see the sun setting on the rooftop at work, I see the sun took centre stage for a long time, is now graciously bowing and allow twilight to take over and the finale act…city nightlife. I can see the lights looking like sparking stars just below the burnt orange well where the sun has dipped for the night.

© Clr '14
© Clr ’14  rooftop of our offices

I have decided to add my piece both in English and French. Our office building as well as many on our street are tagged with gangs’ calligraphy as well as airbrushed art on other buildings.

a single sunbeam
scribling runes on fallen leaves –
autumn graffit © Mark M. Redfearn

View original 100 more words