Daily Painting
Domenico Gnoli
WINTER (1967)
EMIL CIORAN
In every man sleeps a prophet, and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world.
JOHN ASHBERY
"The Chateau Hardware"
It was always November there. The farms
Were a kind of precinct; a certain control
Had been exercised. The little birds
Used to collect along the fence.
It was the great “as though,” the how the day went,
The excursions of the police
As I pursued my bodily functions, wanting
Neither fire nor water,
Vibrating to the distant pinch
And turning out the way I am, turning out to greet you.
BRIAN ALDISS
Cryptozoic!
When he woke, she was gone. He lay for a long while looking up at the tent roof, wondering how much he cared.
He needed company, although he was never wholly comfortable with it; he needed a woman, although he was never wholly happy with one. He wanted to talk, although he knew most talk was an admission of non-communication.
How far was a feeling genuine if it did not find expression in an external act?