David Lynch

The robin and his bug.

Sonnet III. Peregrine falcon soars

Call me to your company, distant sun! Tear me from all this earthly pettiness. The dormant blazes of my feathers dawn As skyward mirrors to your effulgence. Concentric tower of spiraling winds— Climb me towards undisturbed solitude Where people shrink to stains remote and dim Under rolling seas of infinitude.

The Witch

This week’s newsletter was originally about David Lynch. However, I received an interesting email from a reader last week regarding my previous post about Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu. With their permission I publish what they wrote to me so I can answer on my blog: “I don’t get how

Nosferatu (2024)

Vampires and bicycles.

Saturns

Cosmic awe: a case for compassion.

Sonnet II. Always Right Now

My body is at the beginning and end of time. The past is memory’s invention, the future angst or hope: present is movement making me, my life yearning the expression of momentum breaking the seal of the Now; this blood and flesh thirsting for the moment’s start, and

Jean-Luc Godard

He who jumped into the void.

Atalante’s Castle

Reflections on interpretation

Dream

March 22, 2024 at 11:49 AM Fascinating and fleeting dream last night. I was reading Ariosto and dozed off. The dream was more of a vision. I was not participating in it, but just observing its beauty. I was on the ground facing upwards to an immense cherry blossom,

Insect

August 23, 2023 at 9:58 AM Caught an insect yesterday, quite similar to a mantis in form and color, with great crystal wings. It would comb its antennae like a girl wringing and brushing her hair with long, delicate gestures.

Sonnet I.

And why the silence, and why your wintry night, Poor heart? Will you not give me a single rose? Did I neglect your hearths and faded torchlights? Your lone fields lay smothered in unyielding snows Where walks no moonlight, and your constellations Detach and blow as scintillating blizzards Down darkness

Beatrice

The bleak aftermath of the US election.