Only love can break your heart.

Fuck yeah Neil Young (click me).

Jesus Christ Superstar

Church signs are a secret enthusiasm.

(Source: here)

I've got the gift of one liners, and you've got the curse of curves.

(Harper's Bazaar, December 1994, source: shimmysugar)

(London, 1993, source: Pap-art)

Where do you run to?

Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side.
(Brooklyn Bridge)

The world (will soon turn our way)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-ee cummings

Hell yes!

(New Museum of Contemporary Art, Architecture: Tokyo firm Sejima + Nishizawa/SANAA and the New York firm Gensler, Installation: Hell yes! Ugo Rondinone)
(source: Vincent Loy)

Vogue.

I felt infinite wonder.

This story is has 'compelled my imagination many days': The Gospel According to Mark, Jorge Luis Borges (read by Paul Theroux for the New Yorker).

Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges Acevedo (b. Buenos Aires, 1899, d. Geneva, 1986) was an Argentine writer, essayist and poet. His eyesight began to deteriorate in his thirties, and he was completely blind by 1955. An important Spanish author, his influences were Germanic rather than Latin: English poetry, Franz Kafka, the warrior mythology of the old English and Norse.

To open an interview on April 20, 1985, Borges said, 'first let me say: straightforward questions. Not, for example, "What do you think of the future?" when there are so many futures and quite different from each other I suppose.'

On his situation as an author: 'I am merely a word for Chesterton, for Kafka, and Sir Thomas Browne- I love him.'

On meaning: 'People tell me, for example, what message I have. I'm afraid I haven't any... I'm merely a dreamer, and then a writer, and my happiest moments are when I'm a reader.'

On words: 'The moon the word moon is a lingering sound. Moon is a beautiful word. The French word is also beautiful: lune...The moon. I can linger in words. Words inspire you. Words have a life of their own.'

On non-association: 'I know little about contemporary life. I don't read a newspaper. I dislike politics and politicians. I belong to no party whatever. My private life is a private life.'

On his first book: 'When I printed my first book I didn't send it to the bookshops, or to other writers, just gave copies away to friends- some three hundred copies I gave away to friends... in those days nobody thought about a writer being famous, or failure or success. Those ideas were alien to us about 1920, 1930...We thought of writing as, I would say as a pastime, or as a kind of destiny.'

And on social myths: 'All of those myths that we impose on ourselves- and they make for hatred, for war, for enmity- are very harmful. Well, I suppose in the long run, governments and countries will die out and we'll be just, well, cosmopolitans.'

Dear Borges, I love you.

1 (Gospel Book of Archbishop Ebbo of Reims: Saint Mark, ca. 816-835)
2 (Echternach Gospels: folio 75 verso, a lion (Saint Mark), ca. 690)
(source: University of Sydney Image Database)

There she goes, my beautiful world.

Just fucking fabulous.(Newtown Festival, Mary Street)

Lost in the supermarket.

The Eveleigh Farmers Market is fast becoming my favourite place in the universe.

(Saturday spoils)

Just like starting over.

CLEANING PIECE III
Try to say nothing negative about anybody,
a) for three days
b) for forty-five days
c) for three months
See what happens to your life.
y.o. 1996

(New York, December 8, 1980, Annie Leibovitz)

Put the book back on the shelf.

To the five-fingered scoundrel that filched the books I need from the Fisher Reserve:

For him that stealeth a Book from this Library, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with Palsy, and all his Members blasted. Let him languish in Pain crying aloud for Mercy and let there be no sur-cease to his Agony till he sink in Dissolution. Let Bookworms gnaw his Entrails in tokwn of the Worm that dieth not, and when at last he goeth to his final Punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him for ever and aye.

- Curse Against Book Stealers, Monastery of San Pedro, Barcelona.

And moreover, fuck you.

Coat check dream song.

Fabrics on Commonwealth Street.(Lunch: Pucci)

(Furs on the rack)

Make sure you never go to bed angry.

War in the bedroom!(War and Peace, Tatsu Nishi, Kaldor Public Art Projects, Art Gallery of NSW)

If I buy those jeans, I'll look like Kate Moss.

I've got the best kind of diet. You can eat anything you want, but you have to eat it in front of fat, naked people.

(Erwin Wurm: Fat House)

(Erwin Wurm: Fat car)

Every day I write the book.

The most beautiful libraries in the world, as photographed by Candida Höfer.

(National Library of Ireland, Dublin)

(Biblioteca Univeritaria, Bologna)

(Arts End, Oxford)

(Biblioteca Seminario Patriacale, Venezia)

(Biblioteca Comunale, Bolonga)

Library: paradise found.

(Fisher Library, University of Sydney)

Library: paradise lost.

(Koebenhavns Universitetsbibliotek, University of Copenhagen)
(Source: eyeflash)

Mine's not a high horse.

(Erwin Wurm: Hermes)

(Bianca Jagger: Studio 54)

Let's take the long way home.