I don't know "Death Shall Have No Dominion" off my head - I'll have to find a copy of it, now. And I caught that it was a tattoo, but probably only because I'm half-considering getting on in the same place, but of the moon. Not much of a sunshine person, me.
It's not just you. I strip words away if I change anything. Or rephrase, but that's almost the same with me, because words get lost during rephrasing.
I know what you mean. I tend to vascillate wildly in my poetic tastes; Some days I love intensely descriptive lines, sometimes I can't stand having a spare adjective in there and find myself wanting to take scissors to my books and pull them out.
You have to show me some of your writings sometime.
It's mostly incoherent crap, and there's blessedly little of it, really. If you're fascinated by bad poetry I'll post some this evening, though.
Yeah. And somehow that made me smile. It is him, and if you want to I scan the photo and put it up in LJ. Come to think of it, I really should scan the one with the Eiffel Tower. It's briliant.
Do it - Now that I've read the poem, I want to see what it's . . .You know? See what it's talking about, I guess.
I adore Viggo Mortensen's work, especially his poems, but his photographs do something to me I cannot describe. I feel too fangirlish to add anything here, but yeah.
Don't feel too fangirlish! That's the point, no? That here we can be unabashedly fangirlish? I mean, that's what this journal's meant to be for me, anyhow. (Not, really, that one would ever guess that from recent posts, but . . . )
It's too personal somehow, and I'm afraid that it desn't ring true or is just plain embarrassing. Sharing with you is one thing; sharing with the person it's about another.
I understand. It seems a sort of false intimacy, almost, I think.
And since you ask so very nicely, and I'm getting the impression that I hardly can resist such lovely begging, I will post more. Promised.
no subject
It's not just you. I strip words away if I change anything. Or rephrase, but that's almost the same with me, because words get lost during rephrasing.
I know what you mean. I tend to vascillate wildly in my poetic tastes; Some days I love intensely descriptive lines, sometimes I can't stand having a spare adjective in there and find myself wanting to take scissors to my books and pull them out.
You have to show me some of your writings sometime.
It's mostly incoherent crap, and there's blessedly little of it, really. If you're fascinated by bad poetry I'll post some this evening, though.
Yeah. And somehow that made me smile. It is him, and if you want to I scan the photo and put it up in LJ. Come to think of it, I really should scan the one with the Eiffel Tower. It's briliant.
Do it - Now that I've read the poem, I want to see what it's . . .You know? See what it's talking about, I guess.
I adore Viggo Mortensen's work, especially his poems, but his photographs do something to me I cannot describe. I feel too fangirlish to add anything here, but yeah.
Don't feel too fangirlish! That's the point, no? That here we can be unabashedly fangirlish? I mean, that's what this journal's meant to be for me, anyhow. (Not, really, that one would ever guess that from recent posts, but . . . )
It's too personal somehow, and I'm afraid that it desn't ring true or is just plain embarrassing. Sharing with you is one thing; sharing with the person it's about another.
I understand. It seems a sort of false intimacy, almost, I think.
And since you ask so very nicely, and I'm getting the impression that I hardly can resist such lovely begging, I will post more. Promised.
Yay! You're so nice.