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Joan Didion’s collection of books by Ernest Hemingway, from her estate sale
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Mr. Cohen, Cigarette and his Casio PT-30 keyboard.
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Joni Mitchell, Kiel Opera House, St. Louis, Missouri, January 18, 1974 © Steve Williams.
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Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980
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leonard cohen, 1965.
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Patti Smith, from the introduction of Devotion
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by Evan Holm
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I either succumb to the blazing flesh, or it takes over even my rationality. The flesh is its own god, and it bends the knee to no other lord. Its own hell and its own devil. It's purgatory on Earth. May heaven accept me filthy and guilty as I am.
— Alana Marroquim (esquizofrenesi)
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If the velvet smooth night
had a voice,
it would sing jazz.
The stars would glinter
like the saxophone's willowy,
metal figure,
under the poor light.
the piano would play
the player's fingers back,
in sweet high notes
only skin touching can deliver.
— Alana Marroquim, (esquizofrenesi)
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If cats could text back, they probably wouldn’t.
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The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1923-1927
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