MK

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Japanese Ink printing or mere photograph?
Landscape photography is boring you say… But you haven’t met Michael Kenna. With influences such as legendary German romantic landscape painter Caspar David Friedrich and Czech photographer Josef Sudek, in my opinion Kenna’s work solidifies photography’s title as an art form.

Photographs courtesy of Silent World by Michael Kenna.

That’s not my Name

As a kid, I hated my name because it was uncommon. I was the only Celia my friends and I knew at the time and it bothered me (felt like the oddling). Today as I was walking down the isles of the only sorry excuse of a grocery store I have near my place, I came across one of many perks I have discovered over the years about having an unusual name: it doesn’t get used very often.

On the down side… Julie has wings and I don’t.

Nick & Norah

There is nothing revolutionary nor is there anything particularly spectacular about this film, but it seems as though you can be having one of those extremely aggravating days and the moment you give in to the simplicity and naïveté of Nick & Norah’s universe, your perspective shifts and you are left with a dumb grin on your face. You can then go on and hate yourself for not being able to stay mad for whatever reason it was, however there really is no point because, as this film illustrates so well, there will be bumps in the road, but that’s all just part of the big picture. It’s one big beautiful picture and by staring at the imperfections, there’s no way in Hell you’re enjoying it.


Heads out of the gutter.

The Ocean at the Bottom of a Grease Bin

The air was warm, warmer than it had been in a long time. They walked along the narrow streets of the Plateau, her hands grasping his arm tightly as if afraid she might fall. A broken flower adorned her hair. The streetlamps may have been able to outshine the stars, but they were reminiscent of a candle’s dying glow in comparison to the glistening in her eyes. “I can smell the ocean” she told him in a slightly confused, yet wistful voice. “The ocean?” he replied sniffling, his cold not yet completely gone. “Yes, yes! The ocean! It’s wonderful” she repeated, this time with a little more conviction and enthusiasm. He glanced around and a look of comprehension washed over his face. He pointed in the direction of some old buildings and said “See over there? There’s a restaurant that cleans out their grease bins in the back. What you smell now are the sardines.” She let out a laugh and he smiled. “The ocean was more romantic” she whispered, beaming.

Based on a true story.