Monthly Archives: June 2009

Literary Legend Fights for Local Library

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“Libraries raised me,” Mr. Bradbury said. “I don’t believe in colleges and universities. I believe in libraries because most students don’t have any money. When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money. I couldn’t go to college, so I went to the library three days a week for 10 years.”

via Tom Sparks

http://twitter.com/tsparks

http://tsparks.tumblr.com

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The Passionate Namedropper

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via Martin Klasch

Musselsoppans Vänner: Stag Stories

(http://musselsoppansvanner.blogspot.com/2009/06/stag-stories.html)

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Stasia Burrington

“This
is the first in this series of experiments: all 21″x21″ on stiffened muslin, the
flowers and shapes are cut from existing quilt patterns and glued on to fill the
drawing (pencil, graphite and ink, interchangeably).”

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Michael Ferris Jr.

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Recycled wood sculptures by Michael Ferris Jr.

http://michaelferrisjr.com

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Rambo and Rimbaud

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via The Joseph Boys

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Novel by Arthur Rimbaud

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Novel  
by Arthur Rimbaud
Translated by Wyatt
Mason
I.

No one's serious at seventeen.
--On beautiful nights when beer and lemonade
And loud, blinding cafés are the last thing you need
--You stroll beneath green lindens on the promenade.

Lindens smell fine on fine June nights!
Sometimes the air is so sweet that you close your eyes;
The wind brings sounds--the town is near--
And carries scents of vineyards and beer. . .

II.

--Over there, framed by a branch
You can see a little patch of dark blue
Stung by a sinister star that fades
With faint quiverings, so small and white. . .

June nights! Seventeen!--Drink it in.
Sap is champagne, it goes to your head. . .
The mind wanders, you feel a kiss
On your lips, quivering like a living thing. . .

III.

The wild heart Crusoes through a thousand novels
--And when a young girl walks alluringly
Through a streetlamp's pale light, beneath the ominous shadow
Of her father's starched collar. . .

Because as she passes by, boot heels tapping,
She turns on a dime, eyes wide, 
Finding you too sweet to resist. . .
--And cavatinas die on your lips.

IV.

You're in love. Off the market till August.
You're in love.--Your sonnets make Her laugh.
Your friends are gone, you're bad news.
--Then, one night, your beloved, writes. . .!

That night. . .you return to the blinding cafés;
You order beer or lemonade. . .
--No one's serious at seventeen 
When lindens line the promenade.

29
September
1870

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