The top two from my balcony this morning...
The other two from the immediate vicinity of my house (taken on ground level, yes). Excuse the bottom one - it has been amateurishly doctored (by yours truly, yes) to be more dramatic. No, really. 
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Further on the muted hues and haze
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
17 comments:
This is the terrain of my innerland. I might almost suspect you of having found a path there and gone and taken photographs with special dream camera thing.
Wunderbar, Schwes - aber die WVLs sagen flinglog.
Liebe Schwester - vielen dank. Die WVLS bedeuten das Feuer in der Feuerplace, denn sie flinglog sagen. Ja, wirklich. Fling eine log on das Feuer, Schwester, es ist gut on an Abend im November.
But you would expose me thus? When I was trying to fool my readers into believing I had these fantastic dreamscape landscapes just out of my window. Caught lying, red-handed (-keyboarded?). Let it therefore be known that these muted hues and haze pictures are not, in fact, taken from my balcony, or indeed, from the immediate vicinity of my house - and the claiming to clumsily doctor pictures to make them more dramatic was clumsy and transparent in its effort to lay down false modesty as false tracks leading away from the fact that I, Anna MR, blogger and sinner bar none, actually secretly snuck into das Gehirn of my Schwesterlein Zeichen, and using my special dream camera thing, photographed the dreamy landscapes therein.
My apologies all round. Shamed, ashamed, exposed, the blogger leaves the scene of the crime, to purchase some dog food for the only creature who can continue to believe in her, after this heinous exposé.
(She will be back, though. She's incorrigible.)
Multi mwahs bis Weiter
x
Huh?
Well they are beautiful, your balcony or no, doctored or no.
I always need me some fog.
WV: tersibe
tersibe [turs-uh-bee] adj. The compact state of confusion experienced by the reader of the terrible lies Anna MR and Reading the Signs sometimes put together on blog comment threads. tersibetter, tersibest.
Fog is often necessary, Ruth, you are so right. (Not least over the eyes of my poor readers, so they know not what is right and true and what is a horrendous pack of lies. But they are really from my balcony and the immediate vicinity cetra. Honest.)
x
Ach ja, Was fur dumkopf bin ich, ist absolutlich notwendig die logge ins Feuer flingen in November.
Herewith carte blanche to continue secretly snapping, for it does me a power of good to see them manifested in this way. Wolf-like creatures also, you know, part of innerscape. Has it ever occured to you, Schwestah, that you might be living inside someone else's dream? And that that person, unbeknownst even to herself, has a whole layer of creative unconscious that seems to reside in Finland?
(I am, as you can see, seriously procrastinating, but back on word-bash once this chest thing f***s off).
Ja, wirklich, es ist sehr possible das ich eine Träum-kreatur bin. Eine interestinge lein of Gedank-dinge, Schwestah Zeichen. Ich habe absolut keine probleme mit das (specifikisch if die sind deine Träume und Gedanke, nicht ein uninteressantische boring Alte Farte, zum (horrendouschisch) beispiel).
You and I, seeskins, are conjoined at the procrastinative bone. Seri. Ous. Ly. I need to run away and escape and do some serious giddensing, or Very Bad Things will happen. However. Before I go. That chest thing (complete with pox and dog poo, as I understand) is just an unjustness too far. Mr ME Chest Pox Wanker? FUCK OFF from my seestah.
Hope that helps. Seriously.
x
LOL! and ROFLMAO! (rollen auf dem teppich lachen mein arsch ab). Aber nicht on account of der hunde poo, dass hat ziemlich furchtbar geschtinkt. But on the other hand, alles is gut wenn man die elegante klip kloppings von das (or even den) Wunderpferd hohrt. Und sorry about keine umlauts, but you know. Und die eloquente FUCK OFF von eine echte Schwestah. Ja ja, it helps a lot.
Ich bin aber noch LOLling um die Träume (stole your umlaut) und Gedanke von alte Farte.
Excuse me while I go and cough.
Die elegante klip kloppings den Wunderpferd sind tausendmal besser than die drip droppings das Hunde. Ach ja, wirklich.
Ich bin gerade gegiddensing, darum bin ich so brief. Aber küsse und die kouf-mädizin liberalische gepoured, spezialmal für dich, schwesterlein.
x
If that was the view from my balcony, I could step into eternity.
Beautiful
Ah, but Montag. Could is not always necessarily synonymous with should, you know (or with would, thank heavens). I would recommend against stepping into eternity off my balcony, although I scarce go on it myself without the thought of a Grande Finale Leape appearing in my mind (and I go there at least five times daily - nobody in Finland smokes indoors, you see).
It's only a thought, Montag, and not a desire or a compulsion, except such a compulsion perhaps that I have to think it every time I go there. But acting upon it? Not on your nelly. (Honest. Promise.)
But I think what you're really saying is that the view from my balcony pleased your senses, and I'm truly pleased to hear that.
x
Why thank you, Gael, not looking too bad yourself, my dear.
x
(Nice to see you back here. Welcome.)
Well, what I'm saying is that I would do a Jean Cocteau-like bit of cinema, take a candle presented by a magickal hand to light my way, put on the cape of myth and faerie tale, say a quick "Unser Vater, der du bist...", and step into the realms of air, wind, and earth; Wind, Himmel und Erde; lightly balancing between them all...........Grimmly determined...
That is the effect your photos have on me.
I've only just seen these pictures, wonderful they are, and I could spend much time staring at them and imagining.
Montag, your words here have a similar effect on me. Ah for candles from magickal hands, for capes and Unser Vater, for Grimm determination. For lightly balancing.
housut, don't let anything stop you, should you feel like gazing at them. That's what they're there for, after all.
x to you both x
Goodness gracious, Montag, your words have the effect of making me want to speak proper German again, and I do hope you shielded your eyes from the unforgivable dross in my previous comments. It's Anna's fault really, she has this effect on me and, I suppose vice versa. Strenuously resisting foolish wordplay impulse here. Ja.
Because I did, you know, once speak it all the time, and the essential fairy tales lived in the sounds. Still do.
Just for the record, Montag the magnificent, sweet-scented Signs - I acknowledge fully and unalloyedly my guilt in the crimes I stand accused of here. Verily, wirklich, ja.
Bitte forgiven Sie mir. Ich bin schüldig. Sehr schüldig. Bless mir, Vater, für ich habe gesinned...
x
Post a Comment