DANS LE NOIR?
They say eating is a visual experience. Not at “Dans le Noir?” it isn’t. Dinner in complete darkness is what Dans le Noir? offers. Judging from the majority of reviews, whether this is a good thing or not is unclear.
There are Dans le Noir? restaurants in London and in Moscow, and another company called “Blackout” has just opened an all-blind-waitstaff restaurant in Tel-Aviv, next door to the “Kappish” cafe, whose waitstaff is all-deaf: On the table at Kappish is a sheet with instructions on how to order in sign language.
Jeff Hong - “Unhappily ever after”
Wow this post hurt my inner child
"You won’t allow me to go to school.
I won’t become a doctor.
One day you will be sick."
Poem written by an 11 year old Afghan girl
This poem was recorded in a NYT magazine article about female underground poetry groups in Afghanistan. An amazing article about the ways in which women are using a traditional two line poetry form to express their resistance to male oppression, their feelings about love (considered blasphemous).conansdoyles)
Oops I forgot no one will ever love me or by the time they do it will be too late because I’m a desiccated husk.
Thoughts of shooting or stabbing myself come up every few seconds and I can’t breathe. Might as well stay in bed forever.
Between us, always, loved one,
There lies this troubled water.
You are my sky, my shining sun
Over troubled water.
I journey far to touch your hand.
The trip is troubled water.
We see yet cannot understand
This fateful troubled water.
Deep hearts, dear, dream of happiness
Balked by troubled water.
Between us always—love, and this—
This sea of troubled water.
(This poem has been adapted into a beautiful song which is part of a set of four pieces, each from Langston Hughes poems about rivers and water, that my choir is performing later this month.)
Sometimes every work of art you imbibe is written about the current moment of your life. Like it was sent to you purposefully as a lesson.
"Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak’d,
I cried to dream again."
Caliban (The Tempest, Act III scene ii)
Finally got a good scan of this painting I made a few summers ago.
Trippple Lemon, Sour Comets Becca Kacanda 2012