tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25062861111888069692024-03-18T20:58:45.127-07:00I want to be tropicalPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-43976680210796982472015-03-09T05:33:00.001-07:002015-03-09T05:33:24.823-07:00Je crois que je peux voler, je crois que je peux toucher le ciel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well…..</div>
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-92293622964079592015-02-04T03:50:00.001-08:002015-02-04T03:50:38.327-08:00#semaine5<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J'ai pas fait grand chose cette semaine. L'hiver et mon dos me travaillent un peu, j'ai beaucoup beaucoup dormi.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dehors.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☁ </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Otaku, 63 boulevard de Picpus</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J'avais jamais fait de Jap' à volonté. Mangeable. Ok pour le prix. De toute façon l'important c'est la circonstance et l'entourage n'est ce pas <3</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A la maison.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>What we did on our holiday</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J'ai adoré ce film. Peut-être parce qu'il fait écho à des petites choses qui se passent chez des proches en ce moment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Assez basiquement: un couple parent de 3 enfants se déchire mais décide de feindre l'unité à l'occasion de l'anniversaire du grand-père. Bien évidemment sur le papier c'est simple, dans la réalité ça l'est beaucoup moins. L'influence des problèmes de parents sur les enfants (mais aussi des problèmes d'enfants sur les parents), le désir de se montrer sous un bon jour vis à vis de sa famille (alors même qu'elle devrait être sinon la seule du moins la première à accepter de nous voir nu, comme nous sommes), mais avec beaucoup d'humour. Les enfants sont magiques, et le grand-père truculent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>Black-ish</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">NON, faut pas faire ça. C'est pas drôle ni rien, stop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>Eureka</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J'ai commencé à matter Eureka, qui n'est pas une série récente et qui n'est d'ailleurs même plus en tournage. Diffusée sur la chaine Sci-Fi, le pitch est simple: dans la ville de Eureka, vivent tout ce que l'Amérique compte de génie scientifique, de doux dingues qui ne sont pas à une expérience près.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A creuser. J'ai du mal à rentrer dedans. Mais le générique est canon (c'est ça qui m'avait donné envie de regarder la série). J'aime bien aussi la musique, qui est assez présente, et a un côté magnifiquement désuet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>Pour la première fois depuis longtemps</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">on a eu du monde à la maison. Digestif improvisé au sortir d'un dîner. Fort agréable de voir un peu d'autres gens chez nous. Cela scelle en moi le sentiment du "Nous". Beaucoup d'alcool, et plus de rires encore. au Top.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Sac à dos, sac à dos!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J'ai enfin fini mon sac à dos <3 Le premier, pas le dernier, il est canon, je suis trop contente. Je ferais les suivants un poil plus grand je pense, à voir. Maintenant je rêve encore plus fort d'une machine à coudre.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">J'arrête pas de voir des patrons CA-NONS passer sur le net, sans coopter que j'ai un livre magnifique de la collection "Mes carnets de couture", publié chez Hachette. Acheté à l'automne 2012, je n'ai jusqu'à présent jamais pu l'utiliser. AAAAAArg. J'ai aussi très envie de me coudre une robe infinie et une combinaison infinie. Presque même surtout la combinaison car j'en avais trouvé une sur le site d'une créatrice UNE FOIS, malheureusement sold out, et que c'est pas faute d'avoir remué ciel et web, mais nier, rien, nada, la combinaison impossible apparemment ça n'existe pour personne d'autre. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>C'est fou comme les petits changements peuvent produire de grands effets</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Je n'ai déplacé qu'un meuble, une petite étagère, dans notre salon, et tout semble pourtant plus clair. Les deux "Billy" désormais côtes à côtes, les bibliothèque ont perdu leur aspect totalement bordélique pour ne laisser paraître que l'amour des livres (pourtant pas mieux rangés). Visuellement c'est plus léger aussi, merci le linéaire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Je me suis également décidée à nous débarrasser de notre table basse. Depuis des mois nous dinons pliés en deux assis sur le canapé, devant la télé, détestable. Nous ne profitons plus de ce moment pourtant important. En virant la table basse, remplacée par un cube de bois de 25 centimètres de côté (histoire de pouvoir poser quand même un verre, l'ordinateur ou que sais-je), nous avons gagné la place de mettre une petite table et deux chaises. Joie, bonheur.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Petit à petit, faisons notre nid.</span><br />
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-42086760741818604022015-01-30T05:57:00.000-08:002015-01-29T05:57:47.189-08:00#300115 - Plus efficace que le Multivitaminé<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360px" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//embeds.vice.com/?playerId=7c2f49d7e24140a28b55282f0feff710&aid=noisey.vice.com/music-video-premieres&vid=loY2gxczqC83m2Ff8_nhGfTgVIoA_PYn&embedCode=loY2gxczqC83m2Ff8_nhGfTgVIoA_PYn&cust_params=embdom%3Dhttp%3A%2F%2Fnoisey.vice.com%2Ffr%2Fmusic-video-premieres%2Fpneu-catadiopre-ambidextre-video-premiere%26topic%3Dnew-music%26aid%3Dpneu-catadiopre-ambidextre-video-premiere%26auth%3DNoisey+Staff%26keywords%3DPneu%2CCatadiopre+Ambidextre%2Cvideo%2Cpremiere%26ac%3Dno%26country%3Dfr%26contentId%3DloY2gxczqC83m2Ff8_nhGfTgVIoA_PYn&ad_rule=1&description_url=http%3A%2F%2Fnoisey.vice.com%2Ffr%2Fmusic-video-premieres%2Fpneu-catadiopre-ambidextre-video-premiere&autoplay=1" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640px"></iframe>
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Embraquez pour la Destination Qualité.<br />
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-90531353453544043402015-01-29T05:51:00.001-08:002015-01-29T05:51:47.481-08:00#semaine4<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Woop woop, petit retour sur la semaine dernière</span></span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dehors.</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☁ Stop Tissus, 62 boulevard de Belleville</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">J'ai pas mal de projets tissus, pour moi ou pour la maison, du coup je suis à la recherche du bon plan. Stop Tissus c'est petit, c'est pas fou, mais les prix sont vraiment bas. Des tissus de basses et moyennes qualités, quelques draps de laine et cotons épais néanmoins, qui peuvent être pas mal pour des projets ameublement.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☁ L'excuse Mogador, 21 rue Joubert</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Une petite </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">crêperie (et petit désigne vraiment la tille du lieu), toute mignonne, moderne, efficace. Pas cher, rapide, top pour un déjeuner sur le pouce, si mes souvenirs sont bons ils servent jusqu'à 16h30. Toutes les galettes sont accompagnée d'un bol de salade verte ce qui est un plus. Les crêpes et galettes sont bonnes, pas AUSSI bonnes que dans ma bretagne chérie, mais ça se défend.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Une chouette adresse.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☁ Piston Pélican, 15 rue de Bagnolet</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">C'est pas vraiment une nouvelle adresse puisque j'y suis déjà allée (et que je passe devant au moins 2 fois par jours), mais je n'en avait pas encore parlé. Un vrai bon bar de quarter, avec une ambiance sympa, détendue, une très bonne playlist, et la possibilité de ramener ce que l'on veut à grignoter. Les tarifs sont dans la moyenne. J'ai jamais gouté les mojitos qui y sont proposés (au litre!) Clientèle de trentenaires actifs en mode détente.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☁ Dim Sum, 11 rue civiale</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Sauf que non, le mercredi ça ferme à 16h30. Mais qui fait ça??? Service jusqu'à 23h tous les soirs donc, SAUF le mercredi (ce qui n'est pas précisé sur Yelp). Comme il était bien noté, on </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">réessayera.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">En désespoir de cause on a atterri dans un ramen carrément nul, pas la peine d'en parler ici.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">A la maison.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☖Inside Man</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Parce qu'il passait à la télé, et que B était tout excité. Ba c'est un bon film. J'aime bien les films </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">policiers en général, là c'est même plus subtil que ça. Ce qui pourrait être le casse parfait. A voir.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☖Togetherness</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Je me suis regardé solo les deux premiers épisodes de cette toute nouvelle saison. j'ai bien rit, vivement la suite.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">☖Pains perdus</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Parce que j'ai un amoureux incroyable, et plein de pain sec, il nous a fait de ce délicieux pain perdu dont on s'est fait régalé.</span></span><br />
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-1096561091851103622015-01-24T03:34:00.000-08:002015-01-24T03:34:00.104-08:00#240115 - Coup de flip!<br />
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Oh bonjouuuuuuur toi, bureau de mes rêves.<br />
Olala mais quelle merveille. Et quand je pense qu'il est réalisable, j'en ai des palpitations. (surtout parce qu'on n'a pas la place de l'accueillir actuellement)<br />
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-43351565245409637192015-01-23T02:19:00.003-08:002015-01-23T02:19:49.147-08:00#230115 - Zibulka, Timothée et les autres<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://belles-histoires.wifeo.com/images/p/p18/p188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://belles-histoires.wifeo.com/images/p/p18/p188.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">N°188 - Mai 1988</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">N°196 - Janvier 1989</td></tr>
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Mes histoires d'enfant préférées! Je me suis remémoré ces bouquins ce matin, toute mes premières années sont contenues là dedans. Cette collection était tellement bien faite. Les histoires, les dessins, franchement, magnifique.<br />
Apparemment elle existe toujours dans une nouvelle forme.<br />
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Fiston, le faramineux pouce de Paul, Petit Castor, le petit lapin pas comme les autres, les lunes à croquer, que de souvenirs!!!!!<br />
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Le plus ancien dont j'ai le souvenir est le numéro 181 sorti en Octobre 1987, l'histoire de la Princesse Parfaite fille de Jean Rage 1° ahahah, c'est tout nous!! (Sauf que la reine s'appelle Grise, et ma mère, bien que tempérée est une vraie palette de couleur)<br />
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Si vous aussi vous voulez replonger en enfance, c'est sur <a href="http://belles-histoires.wifeo.com/">ce site.</a><br />
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♡ Pom<br />
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Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-91379340000589121702015-01-23T02:00:00.001-08:002015-02-04T02:04:52.762-08:00#semaine3<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Quitte à publier à nouveau, même très très épisodiquement, autant reprendre les quelques fils rouges (effilochés) que j'avais essayé de tisser sur ce blog.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Voici donc le bref résumé de cette troisième semaine de l'année 2015</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Dehors.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☁ Sade</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Etrenner la Carte Blanche Musée </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">d'Orsay avec l'expo temporaire bientôt décrochée. Sulfureux, violent, je garde un certain malaise de cette expo. Je ne suis pas choquée de voir des verges, des vulves, des ébats, qui sont de belles choses. Mais une telle violence… L'horreur humaine. Ce que l'on fait subir, ce que l'on accepte, la domination, le désir dans sa violence. J'aurais beaucoup aimé participer à une visite commentée, mais maintenant que je sais comment ça marche à Orsay, je me préparerais mieux!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☁ Bagelstein</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Le fameux concept de fast bagel. C'est pas mal, je trouve que les carte sont pas très claires (par exemple les pains n'y sont pas détaillés, pour les voir correctement, il faut regarder depuis la rue…?!)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Un peu cher quand même je trouve pour un fast food.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☁ Petit Trianon</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">J'avais vécu sur le même trottoir pendant quelques mois, mais je ne m'étais jamais rendue dans ce bar restaurant. De l'extérieur il m'avait beaucoup intimidé, je crains toujours de "faire tâche", à l'intérieur finalement c'est assez cosy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☁ Marché Saint-Pierre</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Ma deuxième exploration du paradis du tissu. J'ai enfin investit dans un morceau de cet imprimé perroquet qui m'avait tapé dans l'oeil il y a deux mois, mais chez Reine, le magasin d'en face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Poussée par la curiosité j'ai d'ailleurs jeté un oeil à l'intérieur la Halle Saint-Pierre, qui habite désormais le Musée de l'Art Naïf et un café des plus charmants. L'occasion d'une visite prochaine!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>A la maison.</b></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☖ How to get away with murder</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Mais QUE C'EST NUL. Je cherchais un truc à matter et j'ai vu ça dans pas mal de top séries 2014. Franchement, non. NON.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☖ Pique-pique-pique</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">Coupe-coupe-coupe, coud-coud-coud. Et petit à petit le fameux tissu perroquet prend forme. J'ai décidé de me faire un sac à dos, il va être sensationnel! Il n'est pas encore fini que je l'ai déjà d'amour fou <3</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☖ Hannibal</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">J'ai "dévoré cette série". Je me suis fais les deux saisons en moins de 3 semaines. Oui c'est manger des épisodes au </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">kilomètre. La suiiiiiite maintenant allez là!! J'ai adoré détester Hannibal. Sa petite tête énervante, son regard pervers, raaaaaah</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">☖ so raw it's downright filthy</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Vu que j'ai fini Hannibal ça nous a donné une idée et on s'est fait une soirée à thème: regarder le Silence des Agneaux, en mangeant cru. Carpaccio de boeuf pour Monsieur, tartare de saumon pour moi même. D'ailleurs je m'étais préparé deux assaisonnements: un classique citron-huile d'olive-aneth, et un à tendance un peu asiat' sauce soja-huile de sésame-brunoise de gingembre délicieux.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Un concept à garder, le diner à thème.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ inuktitut</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">J'ai commencé à apprendre l'alphabet inuktitut (langue inuit), comme ça, pour le kiff.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">♡ Pom</span>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-45303698709016106692015-01-20T00:21:00.000-08:002015-01-20T00:39:15.158-08:00#200115 - L'éternité s'achève avec toi<br /><iframe src="//player.vimeo.com/video/116582567" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen mozallowfullscreen allowfullscreen></iframe> <p><a href="http://vimeo.com/116582567">Fibonacci Zoetrope Sculptures</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/pier9">Pier 9</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>
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♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-86826547820932593152014-04-07T15:35:00.000-07:002014-04-07T15:35:06.496-07:00#070414 - Musichats<div style="text-align: left;">
Petits TotorRos devenus grands...</div>
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Nos régions ont du talent ♡</div>
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<i> ♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-46407188892580092582014-03-27T18:00:00.000-07:002014-03-27T18:00:41.880-07:00#270314 - Then awake, i'll fall in loveCétait ce soir au Trabendo, ET DIRE QUE J'AI FAILLI PAS Y ALLER...<br />
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-34337625100360697932014-03-26T18:43:00.000-07:002014-03-26T18:43:38.296-07:00#260314 - Santa buzz44 + 95 = 1 minute et 3 secondes fort intéressantes.<br />
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<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/141576990&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-31874929082261414882014-03-25T00:45:00.000-07:002015-01-20T00:48:53.064-08:00#Semaine12<span style="background-color: white;">J'ai passé une semaine étrange, j'ai fait plein de trucs pas très intéressants, des soirées alcoolisées qui n'ont pas d'intérêt à être résumées.</span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white;">Dehors.</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☁ </span>Ida</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">A défaut de pouvoir aller voir Monuments Men, faute d'horaires intéressants, j'ai profité du Printemps du Cinéma pour aller voir Ida, un magnifique film polonais. Un noir et blanc délicat, qui vient caresser les personnages. Qui contraste, qui met en relief. Une palette de gris aussi vaste que les émotions.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Un hasard qui a très bien fait les choses.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☁ </span>marché du mardi</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Légumes à gogo, du coup cette semaine j'ai mangé des courgettes farcies au chèvre frais, des carottes crues à la pause de midi, de la purée (oui ça paraît tout simple mais c'est un des trucs que je préfère sur terre), des carottes à l'orange et à la coriandre. Yumyumyum omnomnom.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☁ </span>Aquaserge au Chinois de Montreuil</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Ce groupe que j'aime d'amour, depuis déjà neuf ans. J'ai eu la chance de croiser ses membres dans l'une de mes vies antérieures, d'en tomber profondément amoureuse, et de leur talent. Tout ce qu'ils touchent ils le transforment en or (Hyperclean, Lecube, Momotte, Julien Gasc) et vont aussi produire de l'or chez les autres (Stereolab, Laetitia Sadier, April May, et surtout Tame Impala</span><br />
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<b style="background-color: white;">A la maison.</b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>the Girl</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Inspiré de la relation entre Alfred Hitchcock et Tippi Hedren, qu'il mènera à la gloire avant de détruire sa réputation. Je connais peu le travail de Hitch, et j'aime les biopics. J'ai apprit plein de choses, c'est un film très fort.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>An Himmel der Tag</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>Veronica Mars</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Sorry but i'm not sorry. La cuite mène à tout, et quitte à mourir de gueule de bois deviant un film, mutant que ça soit pas un chef d'oeuvre! J'ai pas trop suivi la série mais quand ça passait je regardais. En gros c'est un épisode de une heure trente. Y'a quand même quelques narrations qui m'ont perturbé, cette façon de narrer les faits, de parler de soi à la troisième personne.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">☖ </span>Plush</span><br />
de la vraie merde. ça plaira prêtre aux amateurs de Twilight et autres bullshits dans ce genre, mais j'ai dû serrer les dents, et même en streaming donc gratis j'ai trouvé avoir payé trop cher.<br />
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-92146308809119838392014-03-24T15:15:00.000-07:002014-03-24T15:17:08.436-07:00#240314 - Kind of a full moon episode<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Le texte est long, évidemment, ça reste une nouvelle, mais puisque je l'ai, je trouvais ça intéressant de copier la nouvelle originelle en lien avec <a href="http://iwanttobetropical.blogspot.fr/2014/03/240314-suddenly-it-was-clear.html">l'article précédent</a>.</span></div>
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<i>♡ Pom</i></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><b>The Distance of the Moon</b>, <i>by ITALO
CALVINO</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">At one time, according to Sir George
H. Darwin, the Moon was very close to the Earth. Then the tides gradually
pushed her far away: the tides that the Moon herself causes in the Earth’s
waters, where the Earth slowly loses energy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">How well I know! — old Qfwfq cried,–
the rest of you can’t remember, but I can. We had her on top of us all the
time, that enormous Moon: when she was full — nights as bright as day, but with
a butter-colored light — it looked as if she were going to crush us; when she
was new, she rolled around the sky like a black umbrella blown by the wind; and
when she was waxing, she came forward with her horns so low she seemed about to
stick into the peak of a promontory and get caught there. But the whole
business of the Moon’s phases worked in a different way then: because the
distances from the Sun were different, and the orbits, and the angle of
something or other, I forget what; as for eclipses, with Earth and Moon stuck
together the way they were, why, we had eclipses every minute: naturally, those
two big monsters managed to put each other in the shade constantly, first one,
then the other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Orbit? Oh, elliptical, of course: for
a while it would huddle against us and then it would take flight for a while.
The tides, when the Moon swung closer, rose so high nobody could hold them
back. There were nights when the Moon was full and very, very low, and the tide
was so high that the Moon missed a ducking in the sea by a hair’s-breadth;
well, let’s say a few yards anyway. Climb up on the Moon? Of course we did. All
you had to do was row out to it in a boat and, when you were underneath, prop a
ladder against her and scramble up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The spot where the Moon was lowest,
as she went by, was off the Zinc Cliffs. We used to go out with those little
rowboats they had in those days, round and flat, made of cork. They held quite
a few of us: me, Captain Vhd Vhd, his wife, my deaf cousin, and sometimes
little Xlthlx — she was twelve or so at that time. On those nights the water
was very calm, so silvery it looked like mercury, and the fish in it,
violet-colored, unable to resist the Moon’s attraction, rose to the surface,
all of them, and so did the octopuses and the saffron medusas. There was always
a flight of tiny creatures — little crabs, squid, and even some weeds, light
and filmy, and coral plants — that broke from the sea and ended up on the Moon,
hanging down from that lime-white ceiling, or else they stayed in midair, a
phosphorescent swarm we had to drive off, waving banana leaves at them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This is how we did the job: in the
boat we had a ladder: one of us held it, another climbed to the top, and a
third, at the oars, rowed until we were right under the Moon; that’s why there
had to be so many of us (I only mentioned the main ones). The man at the top of
the ladder, as the boat approached the Moon, would become scared and start
shouting: “Stop! Stop! I’m going to bang my head!” That was the impression you
had, seeing her on top of you, immense, and all rough with sharp spikes and
jagged, saw-tooth edges. It may be different now, but then the Moon, or rather
the bottom, the underbelly of the Moon, the part that passed closest to the
Earth and almost scraped it, was covered with a crust of sharp scales. It had
come to resemble the belly of a fish, and the smell too, as I recall, if not
downright fishy, was faintly similar, like smoked salmon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">In reality, from the top of the
ladder, standing erect on the last rung, you could just touch the Moon if you
held your arms up. We had taken the measurements carefully (we didn’t yet
suspect that she was moving away from us); the only thing you had to be very
careful about was where you put your hands. I always chose a scale that seemed
fast (we climbed up in groups of five or six at a time), then I would cling
first with one hand, then with both, and immediately I would feel ladder and
boat drifting away from below me, and the motion of the Moon would tear me from
the Earth’s attraction. Yes, the Moon was so strong that she pulled you up; you
realized this the moment you passed from one to the other: you had to swing up
abruptly, with a kind of somersault, grabbing the scales, throwing your legs
over your head, until your feet were on the Moon’s surface. Seen from the
Earth, you looked as if you were hanging there with your head down, but for
you, it was the normal position, and the only odd thing was that when you
raised your eyes you saw the sea above you, glistening, with the boat and the
others upside down, hanging like a bunch of grapes from the vine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">My cousin, the Deaf One, showed a
special talent for making those leaps. His clumsy hands, as soon as they
touched the lunar surface (he was always the first to jump up from the ladder),
suddenly became deft and sensitive. They found immediately the spot where he
could hoist himself up; in fact just the pressure of his palms seemed enough to
make him stick to the satellite’s crust. Once I even thought I saw the Moon
come toward him, as he held out his hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">He was just as dextrous in coming
back down to Earth, an operation still more difficult. For us, it consisted in
jumping, as high as we could, our arms upraised (seen from the Moon, that is,
because seen from the Earth it looked more like a dive, or like swimming
downwards, arms at our sides), like jumping up from the Earth in other words,
only now we were without the ladder, because there was nothing to prop it
against on the Moon. But instead of jumping with his arms out, my cousin bent
toward the Moon’s surface, his head down as if for a somersault, then made a
leap, pushing with his hands. From the boat we watched him, erect in the air as
if he were supporting the Moon’s enormous ball and were tossing it, striking it
with his palms; then, when his legs came within reach, we managed to grab his
ankles and pull him down on board.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Now, you will ask me what in the
world we went up on the Moon for; I’ll explain it to you. We went to collect
the milk, with a big spoon and a bucket. Moon-milk was very thick, like a kind
of cream cheese. It formed in the crevices between one scale and the next,
through the fermentation of various bodies and substances of terrestrial origin
which had flown up from the prairies and forests and lakes, as the Moon sailed
over them. It was composed chiefly of vegetal juices, tadpoles, bitumen,
lentils, honey, starch crystals, sturgeon eggs, molds, pollens, gelatinous
matter, worms, resins, pepper, mineral salts, combustion residue. You had only
to dip the spoon under the scales that covered the Moon’s scabby terrain, and
you brought it out filled with that precious muck. Not in the pure state,
obviously; there was a lot of refuse. In the fermentation (which took place as
the Moon passed over the expanses of hot air above the deserts) not all the
bodies melted; some remained stuck in it: fingernails and cartilage, bolts, sea
horses, nuts and peduncles, shards of crockery, fishhooks, at times even a
comb. So this paste, after it was collected, had to be refined, filtered. But
that wasn’t the difficulty: the hard part was transporting it down to the
Earth. This is how we did it: we hurled each spoonful into the air with both
hands, using the spoon as a catapult. The cheese flew, and if we had thrown it
hard enough, it stuck to the ceiling, I mean the surface of the sea. Once
there, it floated, and it was easy enough to pull it into the boat. In this
operation, too, my deaf cousin displayed a special gift; he had strength and a
good aim; with a single, sharp throw, he could send the cheese straight into a
bucket we held up to him from the boat. As for me, I occasionally misfired; the
contents of the spoon would fail to overcome the Moon’s attraction and they
would fall back into my eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I still haven’t told you everything,
about the things my cousin was good at. That job of extracting lunar milk from
the Moon’s scales was child’s play to him: instead of the spoon, at times he
had only to thrust his bare hand under the scales, or even one finger. He
didn’t proceed in any orderly way, but went to isolated places, jumping from
one to the other, as if he were playing tricks on the Moon, surprising her, or
perhaps tickling her. And wherever he put his hand, the milk spurted out as if
from a nanny goat’s teats. So the rest of us had only to follow him and collect
with our spoons the substance that he was pressing out, first here, then there,
but always as if by chance, since the Deaf One’s movements seemed to have no
clear, practical sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There were places, for example, that
he touched merely for the fun of touching them: gaps between two scales, naked
and tender folds of lunar flesh. At times my cousin pressed not only his
fingers but — in a carefully gauged leap — his big toe (he climbed onto the
Moon barefoot) and this seemed to be the height of amusement for him, if we
could judge by the chirping sounds that came from his throat as he went on
leaping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The soil of the Moon was not
uniformly scaly, but revealed irregular bare patches of pale, slippery clay.
These soft areas inspired the Deaf One to turn somersaults or to fly almost
like a bird, as if he wanted to impress his whole body into the Moon’s pulp. As
he ventured farther in this way, we lost sight of him at one point. On the Moon
there were vast areas we had never had any reason or curiosity to explore, and
that was where my cousin vanished; I had suspected that all those somersaults
and nudges he indulged in before our eyes were only a preparation, a prelude to
something secret meant to take place in the hidden zones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We fell into a special mood on those
nights off the Zinc Cliffs: gay, but with a touch of suspense, as if inside our
skulls, instead of the brain, we felt a fish, floating, attracted by the Moon.
And so we navigated, playing and singing. The Captain’s wife played the harp;
she had very long arms, silvery as eels on those nights, and armpits as dark
and mysterious as sea urchins; and the sound of the harp was sweet and
piercing, so sweet and piercing it was almost unbearable, and we were forced to
let out long cries, not so much to accompany the music as to protect our
hearing from it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Transparent medusas rose to the sea’s
surface, throbbed there a moment, then flew off, swaying toward the Moon.
Little Xlthlx amused herself by catching them in midair, though it wasn’t easy.
Once, as she stretched her little arms out to catch one, she jumped up slightly
and was also set free. Thin as she was, she was an ounce or two short of the
weight necessary for the Earth’s gravity to overcome the Moon’s attraction and
bring her back: so she flew up among the medusas, suspended over the sea. She
took fright, cried, then laughed and started playing, catching shellfish and
minnows as they flew, sticking some into her mouth and chewing them. We rowed
hard, to keep up with the child: the Moon ran off in her ellipse, dragging that
swarm of marine fauna through the sky, and a train of long, entwined seaweeds,
and Xlthlx hanging there in the midst. Her two wispy braids seemed to be flying
on their own, outstretched toward the Moon; but all the while she kept
wriggling and kicking at the air, as if she wanted to fight that influence, and
her socks — she had lost her shoes in the flight — slipped off her feet and
swayed, attracted by the Earth’s force. On the ladder, we tried to grab them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The idea of eating the little animals
in the air had been a good one; the more weight Xlthlx gained, the more she
sank toward the Earth; in fact, since among those hovering bodies hers was the
largest, mollusks and seaweeds and plankton began to gravitate about her, and
soon the child was covered with siliceous little shells, chitinous carapaces,
and fibers of sea plants. And the farther she vanished into that tangle, the
more she was freed of the Moon’s influence, until she grazed the surface of the
water and sank into the sea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We rowed quickly, to pull her out and
save her: her body had remained magnetized, and we had to work hard to scrape
off all the things encrusted on her. Tender corals were wound about her head,
and every time we ran the comb through her hair there was a shower of crayfish
and sardines; her eyes were sealed shut by limpets clinging to the lids with
their suckers; squids’ tentacles were coiled around her arms and her neck; and
her little dress now seemed woven only of weeds and sponges. We got the worst
of it off her, but for weeks afterwards she went on pulling out fins and
shells, and her skin, dotted with little diatoms, remained affected forever,
looking — to someone who didn’t observe her carefully — as if it were faintly
dusted with freckles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This should give you an idea of how
the influences of Earth and Moon, practically equal, fought over the space
between them. I’ll tell you something else: a body that descended to the Earth
from the satellite was still charged for a while with lunar force and rejected
the attraction of our world. Even I, big and heavy as I was: every time I had
been up there, I took a while to get used to the Earth’s up and its down, and
the others would have to grab my arms and hold me, clinging in a bunch in the
swaying boat while I still had my head hanging and my legs stretching up toward
the sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Hold on! Hold on to us!” they
shouted at me, and in all that groping, sometimes I ended up by seizing one of
Mrs. Vhd Vhd’s breasts, which were round and firm, and the contact was good and
secure and had an attraction as strong as the Moon’s or even stronger,
especially if I managed, as I plunged down, to put my other arm around her
hips, and with this I passed back into our world and fell with a thud into the
bottom of the boat, where Captain Vhd Vhd brought me around, throwing a bucket
of water in my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This is how the story of my love for
the Captain’s wife began, and my suffering. Because it didn’t take me long to
realize whom the lady kept looking at insistently: when my cousin’s hands
clasped the satellite, I watched Mrs. Vhd Vhd, and in her eyes I could read the
thoughts that the deaf man’s familiarity with the Moon were arousing in her;
and when he disappeared in his mysterious lunar explorations, I saw her become
restless, as if on pins and needles, and then it was all clear to me, how Mrs.
Vhd Vhd was becoming jealous of the Moon and I was jealous of my cousin. Her
eyes were made of diamonds, Mrs. Vhd Vhd’s; they flared when she looked at the Moon,
almost challengingly, as if she were saying: “You shan’t have him!” And I felt
like an outsider.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The one who least understood all of
this was my deaf cousin. When we helped him down, pulling him — as I explained
to you — by his legs, Mrs. Vhd Vhd lost all her self-control, doing everything
she could to take his weight against her own body, folding her long silvery
arms around him; I felt a pang in my heart (the times I clung to her, her body
was soft and kind, but not thrust forward, the way it was with my cousin),
while he was indifferent, still lost in his lunar bliss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I looked at the Captain, wondering if
he also noticed his wife’s behavior; but there was never a trace of any
expression on that face of his, eaten by brine, marked with tarry wrinkles.
Since the Deaf One was always the last to break away from the Moon, his return
was the signal for the boats to move off. Then, with an unusually polite
gesture, Vhd Vhd picked up the harp from the bottom of the boat and handed it
to his wife. She was obliged to take it and play a few notes. Nothing could
separate her more from the Deaf One than the sound of the harp. I took to
singing in a low voice that sad song that goes: “Every shiny fish is floating,
floating; and every dark fish is at the bottom, at the bottom of the sea. . .”
and all the others, except my cousin, echoed my words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Every month, once the satellite had
moved on, the Deaf One returned to his solitary detachment from the things of
the world; only the approach of the full Moon aroused him again. That time I
had arranged things so it wasn’t my turn to go up, I could stay in the boat
with the Captain’s wife. But then, as soon as my cousin had climbed the ladder,
Mrs. Vhd Vhd said: “This time I want to go up there, too!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This had never happened before; the
Captain’s wife had never gone up on the Moon. But Vhd Vhd made no objection, in
fact he almost pushed her up the ladder bodily, exclaiming: “Go ahead then!,”
and we all started helping her, and I held her from behind, felt her round and
soft on my arms, and to hold her up I began to press my face and the palms of
my hands against her, and when I felt her rising into the Moon’s sphere I was
heartsick at that lost contact, so I started to rush after her, saying: “I’m
going to go up for a while, too, to help out!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I was held back as if in a vise. “You
stay here; you have work to do later,” the Captain commanded, without raising
his voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">At that moment each one’s intentions
were already clear. And yet I couldn’t figure things out; even now I’m not sure
I’ve interpreted it all correctly. Certainly the Captain’s wife had for a long
time been cherishing the desire to go off privately with my cousin up there (or
at least to prevent him from going off alone with the Moon), but probably she
had a still more ambitious plan, one that would have to be carried out in
agreement with the Deaf One: she wanted the two of them to hide up there
together and stay on the Moon for a month. But perhaps my cousin, deaf as he
was, hadn’t understood anything of what she had tried to explain to him, or
perhaps he hadn’t even realized that he was the object of the lady’s desires.
And the Captain? He wanted nothing better than to be rid of his wife; in fact,
as soon as she was confined up there, we saw him give free rein to his
inclinations and plunge into vice, and then we understood why he had done
nothing to hold her back. But had he known from the beginning that the Moon’s
orbit was widening?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">None of us could have suspected it.
The Deaf One perhaps, but only he: in the shadowy way he knew things, he may
have had a presentiment that he would be forced to bid the Moon farewell that
night. This is why he hid in his secret places and reappeared only when it was
time to come back down on board. It was no use for the Captain’s wife to try to
follow him: we saw her cross the scaly zone various times, length and breadth,
then suddenly she stopped, looking at us in the boat, as if about to ask us
whether we had seen him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Surely there was something strange about
that night. The sea’s surface, instead of being taut as it was during the full
Moon, or even arched a bit toward the sky, now seemed limp, sagging, as if the
lunar magnet no longer exercised its full power. And the light, too, wasn’t the
same as the light of other full Moons; the night’s shadows seemed somehow to
have thickened. Our friends up there must have realized what was happening; in
fact, they looked up at us with frightened eyes. And from their mouths and
ours, at the same moment, came a cry: “The Moon’s going away!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The cry hadn’t died out when my
cousin appeared on the Moon, running. He didn’t seem frightened, or even
amazed: he placed his hands on the terrain, flinging himself into his usual
somersault, but this time after he had hurled himself into the air he remained
suspended, as little Xlthlx had. He hovered a moment between Moon and Earth,
upside down, then laboriously moving his arms, like someone swimming against a
current, he headed with unusual slowness toward our planet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">From the Moon the other sailors
hastened to follow his example. Nobody gave a thought to getting the Moon-milk
that had been collected into the boats, nor did the Captain scold them for
this. They had already waited too long, the distance was difficult to cross by
now; when they tried to imitate my cousin’s leap or his swimming, they remained
there groping, suspended in midair. “Cling together! Idiots! Cling together!”
the Captain yelled. At this command, the sailors tried to form a group, a mass,
to push all together until they reached the zone of the Earth’s attraction: all
of a sudden a cascade of bodies plunged into the sea with a loud splash.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The boats were now rowing to pick
them up. “Wait! The Captain’s wife is missing!” I shouted. The Captain’s wife
had also tried to jump, but she was still floating only a few yards from the
Moon, slowly moving her long, silvery arms in the air. I climbed up the ladder,
and in a vain attempt to give her something to grasp I held the harp out toward
her. “I can’t reach her! We have to go after her!” and I started to jump up,
brandishing the harp. Above me the enormous lunar disk no longer seemed the
same as before: it had become much smaller, it kept contracting, as if my gaze
were driving it away, and the emptied sky gaped like an abyss where, at the
bottom, the stars had begun multiplying, and the night poured a river of
emptiness over me, drowned me in dizziness and alarm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“I’m afraid,” I thought. “I’m too
afraid to jump. I’m a coward!” and at that moment I jumped. I swam furiously
through the sky, and held the harp out to her, and instead of coming toward me
she rolled over and over, showing me first her impassive face and then her
backside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Hold tight to me!” I shouted, and I
was already overtaking her, entwining my limbs with hers. “If we cling together
we can go down!” and I was concentrating all my strength on uniting myself more
closely with her, and I concentrated my sensations as I enjoyed the fullness of
that embrace. I was so absorbed I didn’t realize at first that I was, indeed,
tearing her from her weightless condition, but was making her fall back on the
Moon. Didn’t I realize it? Or had that been my intention from the very
beginning? Before I could think properly, a cry was already bursting from my
throat. “I’ll be the one to stay with you for a month!” Or rather, “On you!” I
shouted, in my excitement: “On you for a month!” and at that moment our embrace
was broken by our fall to the Moon’s surface, where we rolled away from each
other among those cold scales.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I raised my eyes as I did every time
I touched the Moon’s crust, sure that I would see above me the native sea like
an endless ceiling, and I saw it, yes, I saw it this time, too, but much
higher, and much more narrow, bound by its borders of coasts and cliffs and
promontories, and how small the boats seemed, and how unfamiliar my friends’
faces and how weak their cries! A sound reached me from nearby: Mrs. Vhd Vhd
had discovered her harp and was caressing it, sketching out a chord as sad as
weeping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A long month began. The Moon turned
slowly around the Earth. On the suspended globe we no longer saw our familiar
shore, but the passage of oceans as deep as abysses and deserts of glowing
lapilli, and continents of ice, and forests writhing with reptiles, and the
rocky walls of mountain chains gashed by swift rivers, and swampy cities, and
stone graveyards, and empires of clay and mud. The distance spread a uniform
color over everything: the alien perspectives made every image alien; herds of
elephants and swarms of locusts ran over the plains, so evenly vast and dense
and thickly grown that there was no difference among them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I should have been happy: as I had
dreamed, I was alone with her, that intimacy with the Moon I had so often envied
my cousin and with Mrs. Vhd Vhd was now my exclusive prerogative, a month of
days and lunar nights stretched uninterrupted before us, the crust of the
satellite nourished us with its milk, whose tart flavor was familiar to us, we
raised our eyes up, up to the world where we had been born, finally traversed
in all its various expanse, explored landscapes no Earth-being had ever seen,
or else we contemplated the stars beyond the Moon, big as pieces of fruit, made
of light, ripened on the curved branches of the sky, and everything exceeded my
most luminous hopes, and yet, and yet, it was, instead, exile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I thought only of the Earth. It was
the Earth that caused each of us to be that someone he was rather than someone
else; up there, wrested from the Earth, it was as if I were no longer that I,
nor she that She, for me. I was eager to return to the Earth, and I trembled at
the fear of having lost it. The fulfillment of my dream of love had lasted only
that instant when we had been united, spinning between Earth and Moon; torn
from its earthly soil, my love now knew only the heart-rending nostalgia for
what it lacked: a where, a surrounding, a before, an after.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This is what I was feeling. But she?
As I asked myself, I was torn by my fears. Because if she also thought only of
the Earth, this could be a good sign, a sign that she had finally come to
understand me, but it could also mean that everything had been useless, that
her longings were directed still and only toward my deaf cousin. Instead, she
felt nothing. She never raised her eyes to the old planet, she went off, pale,
among those wastelands, mumbling dirges and stroking her harp, as if completely
identified with her temporary (as I thought) lunar state. Did this mean I had
won out over my rival? No; I had lost: a hopeless defeat. Because she had
finally realized that my cousin loved only the Moon, and the only thing she
wanted now was to become the Moon, to be assimilated into the object of that
extrahuman love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">When the Moon had completed its
circling of the planet, there we were again over the Zinc Cliffs. I recognized
them with dismay: not even in my darkest previsions had I thought the distance
would have made them so tiny. In that mud puddle of the sea, my friends had set
forth again, without the now useless ladders; but from the boats rose a kind of
forest of long poles; everybody was brandishing one, with a harpoon or a
grappling hook at the end, perhaps in the hope of scraping off a last bit of
Moon-milk or of lending some kind of help to us wretches up there. But it was
soon clear that no pole was long enough to reach the Moon; and they dropped
back, ridiculously short, humbled, floating on the sea; and in that confusion
some of the boats were thrown off balance and overturned. But just then, from
another vessel a longer pole, which till then they had dragged along on the
water’s surface, began to rise: it must have been made of bamboo, of many, many
bamboo poles stuck one into the other, and to raise it they had to go slowly
because — thin as it was — if they let it sway too much it might break.
Therefore, they had to use it with great strength and skill, so that the wholly
vertical weight wouldn’t rock the boat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Suddenly it was clear that the tip of
that pole would touch the Moon, and we saw it graze, then press against the
scaly terrain, rest there a moment, give a kind of little push, or rather a
strong push that made it bounce off again, then come back and strike that same
spot as if on the rebound, then move away once more. And I recognized, we both
— the Captain’s wife and I — recognized my cousin: it couldn’t have been anyone
else, he was playing his last game with the Moon, one of his tricks, with the
Moon on the tip of his pole as if he were juggling with her. And we realized that
his virtuosity had no purpose, aimed at no practical result, indeed you would
have said he was driving the Moon away, that he was helping her departure, that
he wanted to show her to her more distant orbit. And this, too, was just like
him: he was unable to conceive desires that went against the Moon’s nature, the
Moon’s course and destiny, and if the Moon now tended to go away from him, then
he would take delight in this separation just as, till now, he had delighted in
the Moon’s nearness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">What could Mrs. Vhd Vhd do, in the
face of this? It was only at this moment that she proved her passion for the
deaf man hadn’t been a frivolous whim but an irrevocable vow. If what my cousin
now loved was the distant Moon, then she too would remain distant, on the Moon.
I sensed this, seeing that she didn’t take a step toward the bamboo pole, but
simply turned her harp toward the Earth, high in the sky, and plucked the
strings. I say I saw her, but to tell the truth I only caught a glimpse of her
out of the corner of my eye, because the minute the pole had touched the lunar
crust, I had sprung and grasped it, and now, fast as a snake, I was climbing up
the bamboo knots, pushing myself along with jerks of my arms and knees, light
in the rarefied space, driven by a natural power that ordered me to return to
the Earth, oblivious of the motive that had brought me here, or perhaps more
aware of it than ever and of its unfortunate outcome; and already my climb up
the swaying pole had reached the point where I no longer had to make any effort
but could just allow myself to slide, head-first, attracted by the Earth, until
in my haste the pole broke into a thousand pieces and I fell into the sea,
among the boats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">My return was sweet, my home refound, but my thoughts were
filled only with grief at having lost her, and my eyes gazed at the Moon,
forever beyond my reach, as I sought her. And I saw her. She was there where I
had left her, lying on a beach directly over our heads, and she said nothing.
She was the color of the Moon; she held the harp at her side and moved one hand
now and then in slow arpeggios. I could distinguish the shape of her bosom, her
arms, her thighs, just as I remember them now, just as now, when the Moon has
become that flat, remote circle, I still look for her as soon as the first
sliver appears in the sky, and the more it waxes, the more clearly I imagine I
can see her, her or something of her, but only her, in a hundred, a thousand
different vistas, she who makes the Moon the Moon and, whenever she is full,
sets the dogs to howling all night long, and me with them.</span></div>
Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-22855853242992695232014-03-24T15:08:00.000-07:002014-03-24T15:19:12.170-07:00#240314 - Suddenly it was clear<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
La magie de l'internet c'est de faire découvrir des choses formidables (ok pas toujours) à qui n'est pas à un clic près. C'est en fouillant <a href="http://fyeahstick-n-poke.tumblr.com/">un tumblR</a> sur le stick'n'poke (<a href="http://iwanttobetropical.blogspot.fr/2014/02/tu-stick-et-tu-poke.html">on ne se refait pas</a>) que j'ai lu pour la première fois à propos de la nouvelle d'Italo Calvino.<br />
Je suis une fille curieuse, et jamais à un clic près, et voilà la découverte du jour.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Magnifique.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Merci internet.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/EZ9cEZhiGPw" width="420"></iframe>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>par l'auteur et illustrator israëlien Shulamit Serafy,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>basé sur la nouvelle "the Distance of the Moon", d'Italo Calvino.</i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-15773054764551813252014-03-20T12:30:00.000-07:002014-03-20T19:10:10.988-07:00#HeavyRotation6 - Twist and runUn peu plus doux, ça colle à d'autres envies…<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com%2Fplaylists%2F22942334%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-tx3ek;auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-54615256949602990082014-03-19T13:45:00.003-07:002014-03-19T13:45:49.924-07:00Blood Real ShoesRetransmission du concert des Blood Red Shoes, NOW, sur le site Arte concert: <a href="http://concert.arte.tv/fr/blood-red-shoes-la-gaite-lyrique">c'est par là que ça se passe</a><br />
<br />
Arte Live Web qui est devenu Arte Concert, donc, pour plus de visibilité, et qui propose vraiment une foultitude de trucs géniaux. C'est quand même top de pouvoir vivre des concerts, comme si on y était (et pouvoir en parler à la machine à café le lendemain)<br />
<br />
♡ PomPomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-78321713043974502672014-03-18T11:27:00.003-07:002014-03-20T19:11:02.433-07:00#HeavyRotation5 - Like a liar ♡Nouvel album, nouvel album, nouvel album!!!<br />
<br />
<br />
♥♡ en parfaite adéquation avec mon envie de clubber ♡♥<br />
<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/playlists/26578524%3Fsecret_token%3Ds-Q8cOU&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
Oooooooh Liars…<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-54964971514327059452014-03-16T11:13:00.000-07:002014-03-18T11:15:03.219-07:00#semaine11Cocoon cette semaine, la fatigue a fini par me tomber dessus, à part manger et dormir j'ai pas eu trop d'envies, et puis avec les histoire de pollution j'ai pas eu trop envie de visiter Paris forcément.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Dehors.</b><br />
<br />
☁ Grosse session dégustation au boulot.<br />
Pour promouvoir les marques pour lesquelles je travaille et leurs produits nous avons organisé jeudi et vendredi des dégustations publiques. Samedi également, et cette fois en collaboration avec Mariage Frères, la célèbre maison de thé. C'est toujours épuisant et il faut se blinder face aux pique-assiettes, mais c'est tellement gratifiant ce retour des gens, leur intérêt, leur curiosité. Voilà pourquoi je fais ce métier.<br />
Nous recommençons ces jeudis et vendredis de 16 à 17h, et samedi avec Mariage à nouveau de 1( à 18h. Au deuxième étage du Printemps Maison.<br />
<br />
☁ Premier apéro canal de l'année<br />
Quelques 16 blanches citron, et bien entourée, rien de mieux pour terminer la journée et accueillir le week-end! J'ai tellement envie que ce soit le printemps beau et chaud, qu'il fasse jour jusque tard et que l'on puisse profiter de Paris autrement!<br />
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☁ Premier picnic de l'année, au parc des Chanteraines<br />
Et oui, la clémence de la météo me rend vraiment guillerette. L'occas de tester de le parc des Chanteraines, à Gennevilliers, avec J. ça faisait plusieurs semaines que je voulais aller voir comment c'est pour éventuellement pouvoir aller courir là bas. C'est seulement à 10 minutes de bus de chez moi, quasiment à côté pour la région parisienne donc!! On n'a pas vraiment parcouru les possibilités du parc qui semble immense sur le site internet mais il m'a paru bien plus petit. Hâte de découvrir plus en profondeur ses possibilités.<br />
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☁ Antigone Couic Kaput, au café théâtre Popul'air<br />
Trouvé via BilletReduc, c'est un tout petit théâtre dans le XX° qui propose des petites pièces, souvent gratuites avec participation libre au chapeau.<br />
Antigone, ça m'a tout de suite donné envie. J'avais lu la pièce d'Anouilh au lycée comme tout le monde et comme toutes toutes les nanas, j'avais adoré. Du coup évidemment une dizaine d'année plus tard quand je lis ce genre de titre, j'ai envie d'y aller. Et j'ai bien fait.<br />
Deux personnes sur scène, pour incarner les personnages clés de l'histoire. Antigone Couic Kaput c'est l'histoire d'Antigone et de sa famille, modernisée et racontée par deux espèces de neuneus. C'est une critique de la société et du jeu du pouvoir. C'est une critique de l'individualisme. C'est touchant, drôle, et ça fait réfléchir. C'est donc un cocktail équilibré et réussi.<br />
Je retournerai dans ce théâtre, exactement le genre de sorties que je veux faire.<br />
<br />
☁ En rentrant du théâtre j'ai trouvé ce mug.<br />
Bravant la peur j'ai déroulé consciencieusement une boule de torchons dans un carton de vaisselle abandonnée. Six épaisseurs de tissus plus tard je découvrais cette merveille. N'est-il pas fabuleux?<br />
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<b>Home.</b><br />
Je ne suis sortie qu'un soir cette semaine, du coup j'ai regardé pas mal de films, et pas mal de biopics en fait. Mais ce n'est pas le seul point commun de quatre premiers films.<br />
<br />
☖ The Girl with a pearl earring<br />
Scarlett Johansson et Colin Firth (♡) rejouent l'histoire du fameux tableau de Vermeer.<br />
Colin Firth en maître influent à nouveau après "An Education". Une ambiance lourde, pesante. Les deux sont fabuleux comme toujours. On dit OUI.<br />
<br />
☖ Kill your darlings<br />
De Harry Potter à la Beat Generation. Changement de cap pour Daniel Radcliffe que, très honnêtement, j'ai du mal à projeter dans un autre rôle que celui du fameux sorcier (alors que je les ai même pas tous vu).<br />
La poésie, l'envie de marquer son époque, la découverte de l'amour. Je me sens toujours si proche des interrogations des jeunes gens qui s'ouvrent seulement à la vie et qui considèrent le futur avec appréhension.<br />
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☖ Behind the candelabra<br />
Encore une histoire d'influence. Matt Damon en éphèbe influençable, Michael Douglas en pianiste extravagant et mégalomane. Marrant parce que Liberace est vraiment une exception américaine. Il a été un des artistes les mieux payés de l'histoire, mais sa popularité n'a pas dépassé les frontières de son pays!<br />
Du coup je me suis renseignée sur lui un peu. Sacré personnage. Le kitsch à son paroxysme.<br />
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☖ Lovelace<br />
Très différent, biopic sur la vie de Linda Lovelace, actrice culte du tendancieux Deep Throat, qui avait fait scandale à sa sortie. Comment une jeune fille middle-class va se retrouver manipulée par un amant plus vieux. Comment il va la mener publiquement à la gloire et la détruire dans l'intimité.<br />
Elle a eu le courage de récupérer le sens de sa vie et son indépendance, son image, son nom également (Lovelace étant bien évidemment un pseudo) vent de devenir une voix du féminisme américain avant de trouver la mort dans un accident de voiture.<br />
J'ai beaucoup aimé le montage du film. La vraie dualité public/privé.<br />
<br />
☖ La vénus à la fourrure<br />
Mathieu Amalric et Emmanuelle Seigner dans un huis clos lourd, sensuel, impliquant. Je ne vais pas en dire plus, de peur de casser des détails de l'intrigue. Mais c'est un film magnifique.<br />
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☖ ça parait rien mais cette semaine je me suis fait à manger tous les jours. J'avais plein de légumes et je n'ai pas cédé aux sirènes de la soupe en sachet (je développerai un autre jour ma passion pour cette horreur). Fondue de poireau, carottes et navets à la moutarde… yum yum, faut que je continue sur cette belle lancée!<br />
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☖ Je me suis fait des fiches de vocabulaire.<br />
En flamand, espagnol, italien et japonais. Pour être encore plus formidable à mon travail. Je parle bien anglais, mais je ne parle que ça, et je me rends compte des limites auxquelles je suis confrontées quotidiennement avec mes clients. Je veux pouvoir partager véritablement, et échanger le plus possible. Alors j'ai noté des formules d'accueil, de politesse, quelques phrases simples, les principaux ingrédients des pâtisseries que je vends, mais également des notes de dégustation. Par contre google ne fait pas la différence entre croquant et croustillant, c'est relou.<br />
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Wouw jusqu'à mardi c'est le Printemps du Cinéma. Toutes les places à 3,50€<br />
On va voir quoi?<br />
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-41897382213185501792014-03-14T20:51:00.000-07:002014-03-14T21:08:49.959-07:00#HeavyRotation4 - 'Cos I find you obscene.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">There’s a look on your face I would like to knock out</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">See the sin in your grin and the shape of your mouth</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">All I want is to see you in terrible pain</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Though we won’t ever meet I remember your name</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Can’t believe you were once just like anyone else</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Then you grew and became like the devil himself</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Pray to god I can think of a nice thing to say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">But I don’t think I can so fuck you anyway</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">You are scum, you are scum and I hope that you know</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">That the cracks in your smile are beginning to show</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Now the world needs to see that it’s time you should go</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">There’s no light in your eyes and your brain is too slow</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Can’t believe you were once just like anyone else</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Then you grew and became like the devil himself</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Pray to god I can think of a nice thing to say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">But I don’t think I can, so fuck you anyway</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Bet you sleep like a child with your thumb in your mouth</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">I could creep up beside put a gun in your mouth</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Makes me sick when I hear all the shit that you say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">So much crap coming out it must take you all day</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">There’s a space kept in hell with your name on the seat</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">With a spike in the chair just to make it complete</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">When you look at yourself do you see what I see</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">If you do why the fuck are you looking at me</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Why the fuck are you looking at me mmmh</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Why the fuck are you looking</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Why the fuck why the fuck are you looking at me</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">There’s a time for us all and I think yours has been</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Can you please hurry up cos I find you obscene</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">We can’t wait for the day that you’re never around</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">When that face isn’t here and you rot underground</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Can’t believe you were once just like anyone else</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Then you grew and became like the devil himself</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Pray to god I can think of a nice thing to say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">But I don’t think I can so fuck you anyway</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva; font-size: 12px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">So fuck you anyway</span></div>
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<i>Je peux même pas extraire une phrase plus qu'une autre, le texte entier. </i><br />
<i>Magnifique. Tellement touchant. On a tous pensé, crié, hurlé ça. </i><br />
<i>Là, maintenant. </i><i>Les petites lâchetés du quotidien, les petites lâchetés.</i></div>
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-50357630410876600042014-03-14T19:08:00.000-07:002014-03-14T20:52:40.414-07:00#140314 - Bananameow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Je me sens carrément proche de ce chat coiffé de bananes, voyez)vous.</div>
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Je suis pas sure à 100% du rendu, mais je suis confiante.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2CmbuDzHyJSiJlFMNprsy489eS2nq8DlteBxjr43KSkEoBoEIlCjPiZfNjSZXNxmYIl05k9xQwvshayhB-DTCJ8k5tJCU1w-xDOUs40GK3TO4sLOgKy2nqF7pjLE50hLocDvNrCPgpM/s1600/Pepe+Shimada.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg2CmbuDzHyJSiJlFMNprsy489eS2nq8DlteBxjr43KSkEoBoEIlCjPiZfNjSZXNxmYIl05k9xQwvshayhB-DTCJ8k5tJCU1w-xDOUs40GK3TO4sLOgKy2nqF7pjLE50hLocDvNrCPgpM/s1600/Pepe+Shimada.png" height="320" width="248" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.google.fr/imgres?client=safari&sa=X&rls=en&biw=1280&bih=614&tbm=isch&tbnid=aPJ0vrZZOZySiM%3A&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fmistymint.blogspot.com%2F2013%2F01%2Fpepe-shimada.html&docid=Mlj3PDQs_2MPKM&imgurl=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-kSPBp_PSlDE%2FUPwp4O7PweI%2FAAAAAAAAF4Q%2FpNvYhgJnEMY%2Fs1600%2FPEPE%252BSHIMADA%252B(33).jpg&w=690&h=692&ei=Ia4jU963Koe60QW04IHwDA&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=807&page=1&start=0&ndsp=21&ved=0CIEBEK0DMA4">Pepe Shimada</a></div>
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-2122343985558203602014-03-12T15:24:00.000-07:002014-03-12T15:25:12.055-07:00#HeavyRotation3 - I'll have my revengePOUAH POUAH POUAH!!!!<br />
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Jay Reatard qui reprend Nirvana, merci le Record Store Day.<br />
(J'ai la chair de poule)<br />
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<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/136601821&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-32834051143406464192014-03-06T18:10:00.000-08:002014-03-09T18:14:00.884-07:00#HeavyRotation2 - Marry Me Sufjan StevensEquation:<br />
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<b>rappeur + fils de la lumière + (musicien exposant génie) = ?</b></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="375" mozallowfullscreen="" src="//player.vimeo.com/video/85938454" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/85938454">Sisyphus - Alcohol (Lyric Video)</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/sisyphusmusic">Sisyphus</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</center>
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<a href="http://www.thespco.org/system/images/BAhbBlsHOgZmIjwyMDEzLzEyLzIwLzEyLzU4LzA1Lzk1MS9TaXN5cGh1c19NQUlOX1BBR0VfYWxidW1fY28uanBn/Sisyphus_MAIN_PAGE_album_co.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.thespco.org/system/images/BAhbBlsHOgZmIjwyMDEzLzEyLzIwLzEyLzU4LzA1Lzk1MS9TaXN5cGh1c19NQUlOX1BBR0VfYWxidW1fY28uanBn/Sisyphus_MAIN_PAGE_album_co.jpg" /></a></div>
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Quand le rappeur Serengeti, <a href="http://www.anticon.com/">Anticon</a> (13&God, WHY?, ...), s'associe au control freak Son Lux (Anticon également) et au géniallissime Sufjan Stevens (amour pour toujours, coeur coeur coeur), ça donne <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sisyphusmusic/sets/singles">Sisyphus</a> (<a href="https://soundcloud.com/sisyphusmusic/sets/singles">soundcloud</a>).<br />
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C'est hip hop intello, oui.<br />
C'est electro intello, oui aussi.<br />
Les S/S/S sont connus individuellement pour leur gros gros travail d'écriture et de production, il ne risquait pas qu'avec le pouvoir des 3 il en soit autrement!<br />
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<br />
Ils se réclament du travail de <a href="http://jimhodges.com/">Jim Hodges</a>, parfois politique et furieusement contemporain, souvent poétique et temporel.<br />
Il est comme eux! Habité et complexe.<br />
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SISYPHUS, ça sonne déjà très très bien, ça sort le 18 (mars bien sur) sur <a href="http://asthmatickitty.com/">Asthmatic Kitty Records</a>, qui avait déjà sorti les précédents opus de Sufjan.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/6BlBo80fhi0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></center>
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<i>Et ça donne aux gens envie de faire ça.</i></div>
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<i>C'est dur pur génie. Du pur génie.</i></div>
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-63737806093645489612014-03-02T23:06:00.003-08:002014-03-02T23:25:14.067-08:00#semaine9Trop d'alcool, et de fous rires cette semaine, pas tout à fait assez de sommeil!<br />
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<b>Dehors.</b><br />
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☁ Grand Budapest Hôtel, Wes Anderson, au MK2 Gambetta.<br />
J'attendais ce nouveau Wes Anderson comme un enfant attend Noël. Et ba j'ai bien fait d'attendre, il m'a bien gâté! C'est du Wes Anderson dans le texte, esthétique rétro voire obsoléte, rebondissements saugrenus, comique d'épuisement, photographie à la touche vintage, humour intello, références. On pourra lui reprocher d'en faire trop, mais en fait c'est pour ça qu'on aime ses films non?<br />
Par contre, ça faisait bien longtemps que je n'était pas allée voir un film le jour même de sa sortie, et on avait pourtant choisi un cinéma relativement petit, mais ça reste infernal dans la salle. Et que ça grignote, et que ça glousse très fort à longueur de temps (surtout si c'est pas très drôle d'ailleurs).<br />
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☁ Underground Café par les <a href="https://www.facebook.com/travlators?fref=ts">Travlator$</a>, au théâtre de verre, un spectacle musical inspiré de Starmania.<br />
Très honnêtement, je connais mal Starmania, pas du tout ma culture. A part les grands grands classiques je ne connais rien, mais quand on m'a proposé cette sortie je n'ai pas hésité... et j'ai tellemeeeeeent bien fait! Première bonne surprise, un groupe live! Pour moi Starmania c'est 80's et cheap, et là on a juste eu le droit à la meilleure orchestration de la Terre, les morceaux originaux dans une version plus rock psyché à mon grand bonheur. Deuxième bonne surprise, la simplicité du lieu, de la mise en scène, du rapport au spectacle.<br />
J'ai pris des gros gros morceaux d'amour dans mon coeur.<br />
ça s'est terminé sur un rappel de "J'ai besoin d'amour", et le public qui a rejoint la troupe sur le plateau pour danser. Parfait, je n'attendais que ça, une heure trente que je sautillais de bonheur sur mon banc en dodelinant.<br />
Filmée avec mon shitty-gsm, la video ne rend pas du tout hommage à la qualité musicale, mais ça donnera une idée de l'ambiance!<br />
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Au secours, j'ai besoin d'amouuuuur </div>
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☁ Apéro au <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LapinBlancMenilmontant">Lapin Blanc</a>, avenue de Ménilmontant. </div>
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Vins naturels et musique de qualité, accueil sympathique. Le petit plus, les espaces canapés, idéal pour chiller en charmante compagnie! </div>
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Il propose aussi un service de restauration légère que l'on n'a pas testé. Les assiettes d'assortiments, par contre, m'ont paru un peu surestimées (10 balles pour pas grand chose), mais quand on a demandé du beurre salé on en a eu (hey les parisiens, du beurre doux, sérieusement?)</div>
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☁ Vogue Café par Hugo et Victor, au Printemps Hassmann</div>
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Le magazine emblématique s'est associé à la pâtisserie Hugo et Victor pour créer un pop-up café au sous-sol du Printemps Haussmann Luxe. Evidemment, tout y est pensé et les couleurs magnifiquement léchées (le tapis, LE TAPIS <3 ), ça ne vaut certainement pas tous le batage qu'il y a eu autour, mais le lieu est sympa. Gros négatif: le bruit, le Printemps c'est une vraie fourmilière, il y a un brouhaha permanent. Très honnêtement j'y suis passée sur l'heure de midi, et la proximité avec le Cojean et son immense espace restauration n'a pas forcément arrangé les choses.</div>
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☁ Diner au <a href="http://www.cheri-cherie.fr/">Chéri Chérie</a>. Resto et bar, possibilité de boire des coups au comptoir, même à l'heure du diner.</div>
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Service chaleureux, pas de carte mais une ardoise, je préfère toujours ce genre de système, les plats sont proposés en fonction des arrivages. La déco est un peu rétro, public de trentenaires qui aiment les bonnes choses. Pas mal pour les tablées aussi, il y avait deux groupes qui fêtaient des anniversaires. Petit moins, une ardoise très viande, un seul poisson, pas de plat végé...</div>
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Entrée autour de 6 euros, plat autour de 12 euros, et dessert je ne me rappelle plus (parce que leur cognac est bon aussi)</div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">☁ J'ai fait mes débuts dans le monde de la pâtisserie fine tunisienne. New job.</span></div>
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☁ Drink'em all par le collectif <a href="http://kronikomik.com/">KroniK</a>, chez <a href="https://www.facebook.com/chez.louloutte.10">Louloutte</a> (métro Colonel Fabien)</div>
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Le collectif KroniK expose une quinzaine d'oeuvres de ses artistes, réunis autour du thème de l'alcool (vaste sujet). Les oeuvres restent chez Louloutte jusqu'à début mai, ensuite l'expo ira se poser dans un autre bar, ils font un barathon (oui ça va avec le thème quoi)</div>
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☁ Ballade touristique du dimanche</div>
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Musée d'Orsay (où constatant les 4 jours de queue on n'a décidé de pas aller), jusqu'au Louvre (belote et rebelote), traversée des Tuileries, on s'est posé au Jeu de Paume (et même chanson). Quitte à prendre un bain de foule on a décidé de marcher jusqu'à la Tour Eiffel, avant de se diriger vers le Palais de Tokyo.</div>
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Foule encore au <a href="http://www.palaisdetokyo.com/">Palais de Tokyo</a> qui, Fashion Week oblige, accueillait le défilé John Galliano. Je ne sais pas trop si on a profité d'un moment de confusion, mais on a pu visiter l'expo sans que l'on nous demande quoi que ce soit. Une fois notre tour terminé on a eu le spectacle <strike>effarant</strike> des flashs à la sortie du catwalk. C'est pas encore les photographes pros qui me dérangent, eux ils font leur boulot, d'une manière générale je respecte assez ça. Non ce qui m'a choqué c'est la tristesse des anonymes avec leurs iphones qui essayaient d'avoir une part du gâteau aussi. Je ne doute pas que la plupart d'entre eux avaient probablement bien plus de connaissances que moi en fashion celebrities, mais pour la plupart je sais d'avance que leurs photos inutiles (et probablement ratées vu les conditions) finiront en pseudo fashion week street style.</div>
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Double tristesse du fameux quart d'heure de gloire d'Andy Warhol. </div>
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Je ne comprendrai jamais l'attirance de la foule pour "les stars".</div>
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Par contre j'adore le Palais de Tokyo, je n'y avais pas mis les pieds depuis 10 ans, et j'ai vraiment envie d'y retourner régulièrement. J'aime le côté indus - jamais fini, l'atmosphère parfois effrayante des couloirs dont on ne sait pas où ils nous mènent, l'incongru des oeuvres présentées.</div>
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A refaire vite vite!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkz1hmvrvYG8c_-CjQJGLvRXFVAjZQ84FM2kBO16rQCdPofXUldsGkc6SPJDpFz2UySXY5VuHMR7vWnnh-VgFLqP2E2CoEeMNLM-eiuVwnWYcsYm6NkAXmfFGeG4HG2dQqeaNkHzH4CZs/s1600/2014-03-02+17.24.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkz1hmvrvYG8c_-CjQJGLvRXFVAjZQ84FM2kBO16rQCdPofXUldsGkc6SPJDpFz2UySXY5VuHMR7vWnnh-VgFLqP2E2CoEeMNLM-eiuVwnWYcsYm6NkAXmfFGeG4HG2dQqeaNkHzH4CZs/s1600/2014-03-02+17.24.38.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Palais de Tokyo</div>
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<b>Home.</b></div>
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Pas grand chose pour le coup. déjà j'ai très peu été chez moi, et tous les films que j'ai voulu regarder étaient indisponibles, avaient été retirés etc... NUL</div>
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Tous les films ont été visionnés en pleine insomnie. J'ai pas dormi plus de quatre heures par jour avec un maximum de trois heures d'affilées, si quelqu'un à un remède pour moi, je commence à vraiment m'épuiser...</div>
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☖ Où on va Papa?, Jean-Louis Fournier.</div>
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Il se lit en deux heures, et c'est une vraie montagne russe émotionnelle. On passe du rire aux larmes dans la même phrase, bouleversant. Les mots simples d'un père de deux enfants (puis adolescents) profondément handicapés. L'humour face à la douleur. La douleur toute nue. Le sentiment d'injustice. De ras-le-bol parfois.</div>
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Il a des mots francs, des pensées crues, qui font du bien et qui perturbent en même temps.</div>
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A éviter si vous attendez un enfant, si vous êtes un peu mal, et à éviter surtout comme lecture de métro (fait une fois, arriver les yeux rouges au boulot, pas cool)</div>
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☖ <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2294677/?ref_=nv_sr_1">In a world</a></div>
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La comédie de la semaine, autour du monde du doublage ahah qui eut cru que ça soit sujet à un film déjà, et à un film drôle en plus. Tombée dessus par hasard, j'ai passé un bon moment.</div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">☖ </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1817191/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">La vie d'une autre</a></div>
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Dans une nuit d'insomnie (fréquentes ces derniers temps, très. Trop). La quarantaine, réussite professionnelle incontestable, mariée à l'homme dont elle est tombée amoureuse, un gamin brillant sous le bras... oui mais. Et si l'on se réveillait en sachant plus qui l'on est?</div>
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Sous-entendu assez peu subtil, mais la question est intéressante. Est-il possible de se perdre dans sa propre vie? </div>
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☖ <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1840417/">The Words</a></div>
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Le fil rouge de la semaine visiblement l'imposture...</div>
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☖ <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119822/">As Good as it Gets</a></div>
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Jack Nicholson, épouse moi. Il est parfait en acariâtre. Il est parfait.</div>
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☖ J'ai essayé de trouver <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1374992/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Upside Down</a> dont je vous parlais <a href="http://iwanttobetropical.blogspot.fr/2014/02/syd-matters-obstacles.html">en début de semaine</a>, échec cuisant sur le streaming en tout cas, mais je tiens bon, j'ai vraiment trop envie de voir ce que ça donne.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZO7DabnbOJBF3pmvRbYJYqxpbkNmHdd8IJ6zeoJth51g6DVSlTfhGMiUvbkTPtdQXZJsic3Oa4ssPoIn7YHgLZ09lAgAmfYAqSZkEeGNKNsI02POQRn-lN13WA6UQMuPbatZ-KL-YZ2U/s1600/2014-03-02+17.36.49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZO7DabnbOJBF3pmvRbYJYqxpbkNmHdd8IJ6zeoJth51g6DVSlTfhGMiUvbkTPtdQXZJsic3Oa4ssPoIn7YHgLZ09lAgAmfYAqSZkEeGNKNsI02POQRn-lN13WA6UQMuPbatZ-KL-YZ2U/s1600/2014-03-02+17.36.49.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Baskets H&M, prise au Palais de Tokyo</div>
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<i>Et ce soir, youpi, je ne fais RIEN. Soupe en sachet, plaid et byebye. Pas mal aussi de temps en temps!</i><br />
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-36787763789193066822014-02-27T21:23:00.000-08:002014-03-02T22:53:57.285-08:00Tout ce qui brille n'est pas Doré.Affiches partout dans le métro, articles à gogo?<br />
L'artiste mort du moment c'est Gustave Doré qui se paye le luxe d'une double exposition avec le Musée d'Orsay d'une part et le Musée d'Art Moderne et Contemporain de Strasbourg.<br />
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<a href="http://www.bnu.fr/sites/default/files/images/ChaperonRouge.img_assist_custom-300x244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.bnu.fr/sites/default/files/images/ChaperonRouge.img_assist_custom-300x244.jpg" /></a></div>
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Gustave Doré, Le Petit Chaperon Rouge</div>
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Pas plus forte que quiconque, j'ai très envie d'aller voir de plus près le travail de cet artiste excessif.<br />
J'aime l'esthétique de sa gravure, la finesse des détails, la symbolique de ses oeuvres.<br />
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La page <a href="http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustave_Dor%C3%A9">wikipédia</a> qui lui est dédiée est étonnamment pauvre, mais elle fournit les informations de bases.Si vous souhaitez le découvrir dès aujourd'hui de chez vous, je ne peux que vous conseiller, <a href="http://www.arte.tv/guide/fr/050348-000/gustave-dore">ce reportage</a> dispo encore quelques jours en replay gratuit, merci Arte.<br />
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Mais également le site <a href="http://lectura.fr/expositions/gustavedore/">Gustave Doré - l'Illustration en Héritage</a>, qui propose une visite en ligne de la retrospective qui a eu lieu à Bourg-en-Bresse en 2012, un site très complet, très beau aussi d'ailleurs, et une vraie mine d'information.<br />
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9d/Paradise_Lost_12.jpg/485px-Paradise_Lost_12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/9d/Paradise_Lost_12.jpg/485px-Paradise_Lost_12.jpg" height="320" width="259" /></a></div>
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Gustave Doré, La Chute de Lucifer</div>
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Très différent, cet hommage de <a href="http://vincentpianina.blogspot.fr/">Vincent Pianina</a> et <a href="http://lorenzopapace.fr/">Lorenzo Papace</a> (Le petit écho malade, Ödland...)<br />
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Dimanche les musées nationaux sont gratuits, il est bien évident que j'irai trainer vers Orsay!<br />
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<i>♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2506286111188806969.post-70799299537999275632014-02-25T20:39:00.001-08:002014-02-26T04:22:06.057-08:00#HeavyRotation 1. Someday we will foresee obstacles Et je me demande à chaque fois pourquoi je n'écoute pas plus souvent Syd Matters, je tombe amoureuse systématiquement.<br />
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J'ai écouté ce morceau <strike>5 fois</strike> quinze fois de suite. Maintenant je vais chercher le film dans lequel il apparait (Upside Down, avec Jim Sturgess je dis OUI)<br />
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<span style="background-color: #f7f8f7; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><i>Someday we will foresee obstacles </i>♥</span></div>
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Pour la petite histoire, il y a un an et demi je partageais un appartement boulevard de Clichy et alors que j'écoutais leur magnifique <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2GSw0RuwgNE&feature=kp">Cloudflakes</a>, mon coloc passe la tête par la porte de ma chambre et me dis "Tiens t'écoutes Syd Matters? Tu sais que le mec qui vivait là juste avant toi joue dedans?", ba non je savais pas, et je n'ai jamais eu l'occasion de le recroiser. C'est bien dommage, je lui aurais dit tout le bien que je pense que son groupe.</div>
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<i> ♡ Pom</i>Pomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10616487242310434420noreply@blogger.com0