hesitant aranta



depicted

[foto de ºCHiViSº--flickr]

incoming
Nicomachean Ethics//Aristotle
Eudemian Ethics//Aristotle
Poetics//Aristotle
De Anima//Aristotle
Cause, Necessity and Blame//Richard Sorabji
The Fragility of Goodness//Martha C. Nussbaum
Essays on Aristotle's Ethics//Amelie Rorty (editor)
Aristotle's Theory of Action//David Charles
Aristotle on Moral Responsibility//Susan S. Meyer
The Fabric of Character//Nancy Sherman
Choosing Character//Jonathan Jacobs
Aristotle's Psychology//Daniel N. Robinson

Volta//Björk
Medùlla//Björk
Vespertine//Björk
Vespertine Live at the Royal Opera House//Björk

Carbon Monoxide//Marlboro Reds
caffeine in not so large ammounts

a whole lotta love

secondary bibliography

overt influences
straying

[...]
Wie ich mechanisch eine neue Zigarrette drehe und die braunen Stäubchen mit feinem Prickeln auf das weißgelbe Löschpapier der Schreibmappe niedertaumeln, will es mir unwarscheinlich werden, daß ich noch wache. Und wie die feuchtwarme Abendluft, die durch das offene Fenster neben mir hereingeht, die Rauchwölkchen so seltsam formt und aus dem Bereich der grünbeschirmten Lampe ins Mattschwarze trägt, steht es mir fest, daß ich schon träume.
Da wird's natürlich schon ganz arg; denn diese Meinung wirft der Phantasie die Zügel auf den Rücken. Hinter mir knackt heimlich neckend die Stuhllehne, daß es mir jäh wie hastiger Schauder durch alle Nerven fährt. Das stört mich ärgerlich in meinem tiefsinnigen Studium der Bizarren Rauchschriftzeichen, die im mich irren, und über die einen Leitfaden zu ferfassen ich bereits entschlossen war.
Aber nun ist die Ruhe zum Teufel. Tolle Bewegung in allen Sinnen. Fiebrisch, nervös, wahnsinnig. Jeder Laut keift. Und mit all dem verwirrt steigt Vergessenes auf. Einst dem Sehsinn Eingeprägtes, das sich seltsam erneut; mit dem Fühlen dazu von damals. [...] Vision. Proza-Skizze//Thomas Mann.


past utterances
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3.4.05

:: kaonashi ::
sen ga hoshii desu. he said. sabishii. he said. but there was no expression, there could be none. offer me what you may, i am in no need of anything you can hold in your hands.__stay unseen for as long as you desire, i'll leave this door open. i remember seeing a few tears, for the first time, after watching the tunnel fade away into the dark screen. now, watching her, with a bright violet ribbon, walk through the silent dark, i cannot help myself from crying as well.__miyazaki has always had that effect on me, it's in a way, like a beautiful torture, like a tender reminder of the omnipresence of pain.__ tonari no totoro broke my heart into a million pieces, i can still see the enormous animal merely staring out into the world with a silent innocence that crawls up beneath my skin and makes my every hair stand up in reverence of the magnificence of the simplest of gestures.__the amazing effects of light among the pastures, as if this was not an imitation, as if living could be achieved just -and justly- through the eyes; those raindrops make me think that what is poorly imaged is what goes on outside this window of mine.__ nausicaa showed me the way through japanese, the simplest "ah, mushidarou" excited beyond belief the yearning implanted one day of february, the possibility of all ending in a second and coming back to what it was once supposed to be marveled me and marvels me still.__but i never saw the whole movie, not at least on a conscious level; although i know large parts of the dialogues, i cannot say for certain what it is about.__mononoke hime took me by surprise; instead of the sweet sorrows hidden by the cuddly appearance of characters, herein lay the most violent approach to humanity i could have related to.__ it showed me the way to justify my fear and loathing of what i was born being, for, when something so frightful can be portrayed in such a beautiful manner, there is no more struggle for comprehension: all else must be left unsaid.__and now i meet again with chihiro, again i have to face the threat of not being able to take a single step towards this side of the tunnel, again having tears run up to my eyes begging to be released in a world not as bitter as that one being showed.__for only with these tears can the river be made and the journey start.
coming in through my ears:: For no one//The Beatles