31 May 2009
The Eerieness of certain Saturdays
Ten images that have made last Saturday the eeriest of days.
Ten images that have made last Saturday the eeriest of days.
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This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
October 13th, 2008 - Monday

Igreja da Candelária - Centro (Candelária Church - Downtown) - Photo by Iris H.
October 12th, 2008 - Sunday
The Maze Inn Views
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Photos by Iris H.
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
October 12th, 2008 - Sunday
The Maze Inn Views
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Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. ‘If a guy punches you, he likes you.’ ‘Never try to trim your own bangs’ and ‘Someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending.’ Every movie we see, every story we’re told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs. How to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t, the ones who will stay from the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, maybe… it’s you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just… moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this - knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.
(He’s just NOT that into you)
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Essays in Love
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Woody Allen (Complete Prose)
Mrs. Dalloway
The Catcher in the Rye (Reread)
Persuasion
In Cold Blood
Committing to Reading
Committed to Reading
Many thanks to Robbie and her ‘flabbergastingly’ bad influence ;)
—— ∫ ——
What arguments are about is never as important as the discomfort for which they are an excuse.
(Essays in Love - Alain de Botton)
Shots taken at the exact moment the flash from a second camera went off. I think it made for an interesting experiment.
Many thanks to Rachel! :D
Hate u! ;)
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These are days -
These are the days you might fill
With laughter until you break
These days you might feel
A shaft of light
Make its way across your face
And when you do
You’ll know how it was meant to be
See the signs and know their meaning
You’ll know how it was meant to be
Hear the signs and know they’re speaking
To you, to you
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
October 12th, 2008 - Sunday
The Maze Inn Views
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This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Fourteen years ago today I was on Westwood Boulevard standing outside Tower Records waiting to see an in-store performance by Jeff Buckley. He’d just come onto the music scene and I’d just become captivated by his unique sound and stunning face. We’d been at it for no more than months. He, playing, plugging Grace (which was to be his only studio recorded album) and I, listening, keeping an eye out for the name and the voice.
When I learned of the Tower Records event, I had been in Los Angeles for a mere eight days. A stunning coincidence, I’ve always thought. Serendipity. One of those rare gifts you don’t dare wonder about.
Strange world where sharpie-drawn outlines of hearts can outlive the hand that drew them.

Thanks go to Mo for the video.

Photographs by Merri Cyr.
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Nearing the end of On Beauty I came upon these words again: YOU NEVER KNOW.
On this Sunday morning - the latest in a string of many which have, without explanation, laid claim to my reading habits, as I can only react with a listless going along.
Step One: Pick up the book from the shelf.
Step Two: Lie down.
Step Three: Move to Wellington.
No questions asked.
And right around the time I start missing a story (its characters and their conflicts) just leafing through the pages that are left and feeling on the tip of my fingers that the end is in fact, near.
(A clear downside to any artistic endeavor, active or passive: the fleeting aspect of it. Of creation, execution and dissemination. There is sadly, always an end to the ‘art’ tunnel which is often more interesting than anything outside. Outside, the world merely inhales and exhales the fumes of nine-to-five mistaken for oxygen.)
An idea came to me at this latest ‘YOU NEVER KNOW‘: to start an ongoing list of you never knows, this commonest of phrases that has become as meaningful to me as to retain a sense of importance regardless of what follows it. And here I go…
(Feel free to drop a line if you happen to chance upon one.)

Knock, knock. Who’s there? Are you there? Are you there for me? Yes. But only so long and only so far. This far. From this far. This far from me. You wake up to a pillow with a fake ID. And that’s good enough. Plenty of things are good enough. More than plenty and more than enough but not more than good. And that’s how we know the whole can only be less than good. I feel a very elegant breakdown coming on. Discreet enough that you might miss it. I’m full of words. And questions. And doubts. And song lyrics. I’m full of waiting. On bad terms with time. In dire need of a cat named Hope or a dog named Faith. In need of a life, of directions, of a direction, of decisions. I’m suddenly and uncharacteristically practical, sitting in front of a chess board I don’t understand wishing I could mount a horse and ride into the sunset.

Photos courtesy of FLICKR:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/1328/2293514361/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/bjarkih/3013284985/
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
This is your life and it’s ending one MINUTE at a time.
(Fight Club)
Every passing MINUTE is another chance to turn it all around.
(Vanilla Sky)
In a MINUTE there is time
For decisions and revisions which a MINUTE will reverse.
(The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Mornings spent in good company :D
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This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Woman like a man, Lonely Soldier
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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