ninus ardi

old ones

interest?.... a good life... old trees, shady parks, sunshine, bright mornings, sunset as in paintings, quiet nights, blue moon, horizon on the sea, light rain, downpour, vast grasslands n meadows, rich landscapes, bare landscapes, strokes of brush as in monet, colours gradation such as in ansel adams, stark beauty of visual displays by national geographic's people, stunning black-n-white pictures of jim nachtwey’s, blazing energy surrounding a theatrical performance, smiling faces, loving faces, warm hugs, good coffee, good cigarettes, light drunkenness, new york skyline as in films, stacks and stacks of books, busy city streets, dusty lonely roads, crumpled n worn out maps, unknown destinations, neverending stories, many things. a good life.

little miss sunshine, history boys (bewitched, bothered, n bewildered am i...), dead poet society, the talented mr ripley, a good year (omit russel crowe! it's all about million bottles of wine, a bench under leafy trees, and lots and lots of sunshine...)

monday michiru when feeling blessed, amy winehouse when unbalanced, miles-coltrane-parker-ellington-coleman-etc at any casual time of day, earth wind n fire/mondo grosso/bah samba/james taylor quartet for groovy hours, jobim and gilberto couples on quiet starlit nights, jamiroquai on riotous ones, tony benett when feeling like swinging, feist whenever in despair, bloc party when in blue, queen for karaoke; paying hommage to freddy, dave matthew's when the world ends to wrap a bad day, basia's drum now on (live version) to remember a heart that's broken (something to do with a stupid fantasy of wandering in southern france vineyards...what a beautiful song) T.T

little britain (indulging that dark, sarcastic, and beastly side of me) and entourage (for the sake of ari gold.. and ari fucking gold only.. yah, also for johnny drama and all his shitty star-wannabe/never-admitting-being-a-has-been sequences)

Sagittarius

So I go back and forth forever
All my thoughts they come in pairs
Oh I will, I won't, I doubt, I don't
I’m not surprised but I never feel quite prepared

Now I’m hunched over a typewriter
I guess you call that painting in a cave
And there’s a word I can’t remember
And a feeling I cannot escape
And now my ashtrays overflowing
I’m still starting at a clean white page
Oh and morning's at my window
She is sending me to bed again

(bright eyes: another travelin song)

and i'm up while the dawn is breaking, even though my heart is aching,
i should be drinking a toast, to absent friends instead of these comedians

(elvis costello)