hodrepaem

[hodrepaem]

[hodrepaem]

Yoshitomo Nara: 'Fuck U' Porcelain Ashtray (2020)

[hodrepaem]

Works by Yoshitomo Nara ⋆｡° ★

[hodrepaem]

yoshitomo nara

[hodrepaem]

Damasuccus, Syria (2015). Photographed by Karim Shamsi-Basha.

[hodrepaem]

[hodrepaem]

Björk (1997) photographed by: Nobuyoshi Araki

[hodrepaem]

Nobuyoshi Araki. Chiro, My Love, 1994.

Araki's personal photographic essay dedicated to his cat, Chiro. Consisting of some 100 black and white photographs, the study presents Chiro in a variety of different moods and situations.

[hodrepaem]

"The act of seeing is no small thing. To see something is to be possessed by it. Sometimes it carries off a part of you, sometimes it's your whole soul."

— Motojiro Kajii

[hodrepaem]

"It's funny. No matter where you go, or how many books you read, you still know nothing, you haven't seen anything. And that's life. We live our lives trying to find our way. It's like that Santoka Taneda poem, the one that goes, 'On and on, in and in, and still the blue-green mountains.'"

— Satoshi Yagisawa

[hodrepaem]

"But, I don't know, maybe it takes a long time to figure out what you're truly searching for. Maybe you spend your whole life just to figure out a small part of it."

— Satoshi Yagisawa

[hodrepaem]

"I felt a sudden wave of grief come over me. Far more than anger, I felt grief. A grief that was so violent, so intensely palpable, that I felt like I could reach out and touch it."

— Satoshi Yagisawa

[hodrepaem]

i cannot hate myself into a version of me i will love.

[hodrepaem]

مثل سربٍ من يمامٍ حين يدنو

من حدودِ القلبِ يعلو فيه لحنُ

لحنُ اسئلة—

والسؤالُ هو السائلُ

— حسين البرغوثي

[hodrepaem]

كما يركبُ الطفلُ فهدًا عليكَ بأن تركب خوفك

فَقَدرْ

من لا يستألف الخطر

أن يحيا خائفًا

— حسين البرغوثي

[hodrepaem]

"Beautiful Losers", Leonard Cohen

[hodrepaem]

ومع أنَّ كلًّا يحاول أن يفلت منه

كما من سجنٍ يحتجزه ويقتله،

فإنّ خارقًا عظيمًا ما فتئ يتحقق عبر العالم،

وبامتلاءٍ أحس أنا به: كلُ حياةٍ تُعاش.

من يعيشها يا ترى؟ أهي الأشياء

التي، كألحانٍ لم تُعزف،

تنتصب في المساء كأنما على أوتار قيثار؟

أهيَ الريحُ تصخبُ فيها المياه،

أم هي الأغصانُ تتنادى؟

أهيَ الأزهار تنسجُ عطورًا،

أم الشوارع الطويلةُ الهرمة؟

أهي الحيواناتُ الساخنةُ تسلكُ طريقها؟

أم الطيور الشاعرةُ في طيرانها بالاغتراب؟

من يعيشها يا ترى؟

— راينر ماريا ريلكه