Pointy Birds

Pointy birds
oh pointy pointy
anoint my head
anointy nointy

- Dr. Hfuhruhurr

Jean Toomer - exert from Seventh Street

CUTLERY - (YOU BETTER LOVE ME) BEFORE I AM GONE. A bloody smashing cover of the BJM song.

Cutlery on Myspace for more loveliness

Vampires of Dartmoor - Dance of the Vampires

Well here we are in Honeybuzzard heaven- i can hear the plaintive whilst of an old stream train- here's something from From Dracular's Music Cabinet (1969) on Finders Keepers Records.

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The master of all genre's at work- (just like the bands I'm in whenever we record, honest!); documenting the whole creative process from beginning to end, via 1,000 Gitanes; Serge Gainsbourg Initails BB:

s.Gainsbourg Initials BB - Création
Uploaded by occiMORT. - Discover more animation and arts videos.

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Jean-Claude Vannier and his crew working on a fashion show for Yves Saint-Laurent in the early 70's..

Beachwood Sparks - Canyon Ride

From the man who helped Melody Nelson appear to your mind.. Jean-Claude Vannier

Lord Kitchener's Valet

DOODLINGS

AMERICAN ANALOG SET - COME HOME BABY JULIE, COME HOME

I'd like some fur

Karl Struss - Dance study 1930

Joker's Daughter - Lucid

Above is the goddess of fertility in British-Celtic mythology.. polly jean harvey!

The Two Trees by W.B. Yates

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody,
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee.
There the Joves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and fro
In those great ignorant leafy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the wingèd sandals dart,
Thine eyes grow full of tender care:
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.




Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass,
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
For all things turn to barrenness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings; alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.

By W.B.Yeats

The Low Anthem - my new favourite band

Sugar Mountain..

Pregnancy Test BJM

ode to space hasstle..

The Brian Jonestown Massacre 'Ode to Space Hasstle


elis e tom - aguas de março


Vicente Fernandez - Volver Volver