22 March 2016

Astier de Villatte (website descriptions of candles, as auto-translated)

Alcatraz. Guardian of the San Francisco
Bay, den pelicans, the islet of Al Capone
And Amerindians still celebrate who
Ceremonies of “Sunrise Gathering.” On the
Fortress steeped in history yet fleet that
Divine smell of tobacco Indian blond:
Mate with dry hay notes, Gaiac wood
Smoked, spicy cinnamon black pepper.

Algiers. A city in North Africa to look
Very Parisian. Haussmann facades
Whitewashed, painted blue shutters,
Dizzying heat, sulphurous atmosphere a
Tad. Hectic arches up a delectable scent of
White flowers, privet flower, wild jasmine,
Lemon, neroli with spicy acid notes of a
Pepper gas suspicion.

Anchorage. From the cold lands that
Rise thaw shy swirls of green citrus,
Magnolia iced by the essence of
Peppermint, foam and crystalline musks.
Amber woody accord brings a little heat.

Aoyama. Wet wood, incense, clean linen,
The typical smell of an old Japanese house
Of any wooden Aoyama district as the
Bishop Sonya Park. Exquisite scent and
Arch-chic patchouli (wet wood effect),
Smoked wood (Gaiac and Vetiver), clove.
A form agreement accentuates the feeling
Of freshness.

Brasilia. An air-conditioned concrete
City, a totally futuristic flavor. Planted in
The infinite desert, aerial construction
Crisp green notes, sweet tangy rhubarb,
“Rose Oxide” metallic vibration.

Broadway. Posters theaters flashing in
All directions, on the tarmac, they hustle,
The bustle is at its peak. Inspire by the
Secret recipe of the most legendary soda in
The world, a funny effervescent scent,
Ultra refreshing, caramelized lemon, you
Tingle delightfully bottom of the nose.

Cabourg. Normandy seaside town.
Under the flowery bowers of the
Grand Hotel gardens, Marcel Proust wrote
The Shadow of Young Girls in Flower. A
Delectable scent of wisteria, jasmine wafts
Of creamy spiced with sea spray cools
Invade these immutable holiday locations.

Cambridge. A novel by Agatha Christie,
An English garden. Absolute mess sensual
And opulent roses Morocco, Turkey fruity
Pink, green tracery and vegetal notes of
Violet leaves, galbanum, verbena, spicy
Scent of cinnamon leaves…

Paris Commune. Gusts of agrumées
Scents, bright and incisive, Italian lemon,
Bergamot, scented geranium. Suddenly
Is is the calm after the storm. Delicious
Aromas, warm, sweet, a tad rise powdered
Cobblestones. At the sweetness of benzoin
And nutmeg mingles green almond smell
Of coumarin, famous chemical molecule
Of the time

Delhi. Spicy diving into the heart of the old
Town. In the narrow lanes between the
Piles of houses in a heated atmosphere, a
Thousand intoxicating flavors you go up to
The nostrils: betel, benzoin, musk and
Myrrh, flashes of smoked wood, hints of
Vanilla, herbal beedi and eucalyptus.

Delphi. Suave mixture of wildflowers,
Orange blossom, almond blossoms, a
White touch of honey. In the air vibrates
Slightly powdery fragrance of flower

Grand Chalet. Lost in the Swiss Alps, in
The center of a peaceful village, the Grand
Chalet stands an imposing and
Magnificent structure of all wood. There,
In this unique landscape to the beneficial
Climate, the painter Balthus moved his
Home and delights dairy aromas, honeyed,
Slightly lemony of linden that borders his
Studio. Today, such a wonderful memory,
Her perfume permeates again these

Hoëdic. Wild fennel gusts along the
White sand beaches along this island.
Divine diving in basil green, aromas of
Star anise, lily of the dunes, myrrh
Liquorice effect.

Hollywood. A suave
Agreement powdery iris and patchouli
Mingle delightfully sunny scent of cedarwood,
Eucalyptus and vetiver exhales the
Incredible lushness of the vegetation

Hong Kong. Amazing and delectable
Effluves boats loaded with spices and
Citrus along slowly and majestically Bay.
Duo shifted combining intense spicy
Cinnamon and fresh sweetness of

Honolulu. Hello Sunshine, opulent
Gardenia, white flower revealed by the
Tangy lemon California and those heady
Ylang ylang. Vanilla brings its solar sweet
Note and this torrid pleasure.

Jerusalem. Pilgrimage madly in
Heavenly fragrant walled town. Courses
Sacred places, the Holy Sepulchre, the
Wailing Wall, Mount of Olives. The scrolls
Of the church incense blend dark and
Mysterious scents of wood Oud
Agreement, cedar wood and nutmeg and
Those brighter and galbanum plants and

Kobe. The sun sets on the Rokko
Mountains. In the old quarter of Kitano,
You walk between the funny European
Houses formerly built by foreign nostalgic.
Street overlooking the Bay of Osaka up
Hot, pungent smell of candied ginger,
Spicy fragrance cold coriander root, the
Creaminess of the sweet fig.

Lhasa. Colorful and lively streets of the
City, climb slowly towards the Potala
Palace. On this plateau, in the pure blue
Sky, draw the clouds of white and fragrant
Smoke of juniper that pilgrims do burn. It
Is intoxicated with these spicy woody
Fragrance which joins the medicinal smell
Of cloves.

Mantes La Jolie. The menthe citrate
Notes frankly lemony, green accord and
Crunchy aromatic plants, instant freshness
Of eucalyptus restore as if there was the
Smell of a display of green herbs in market

Marienbad. A spa town in the amazing
Baroque architecture. Under the arcades
Of rococo Thermes seven preferred
Mineral sources of Franz Kafka float tasty
Green tea flavors, cardamom and nutmeg.
While healing waters bathes ascend
Fragrant mists of the warm, wet stone,
Fragrant sandalwood and white musk.

Monte Carlo. The ultimate chic.
Incessant ballet doors drums Hotel de
Paris, diamond rivers of runoff around the
Casino gambling tables. Fresh air is imbued
With divine and rich chypre fragrance.
Neroli, tuberose, rose, jasmine, iris,
Wormwood and patchouli essences and a
Trace of leather, fatal.

Namche Bazaar. Black tea dried
Tabacée smell of dry hay, just smoke. The
Fumes of incense mingles with freshness of
Verbena and lavender. It also exudes
Patchouli, mate from South America,

Naples. At Scaturchio, a lady in a fur coat
Tasted a slice of pastiera it accompanies
Coffee. A delicious almond and orange
Blossom, lightened by a refreshing
Advanced small grain. And neroli.

Opera. Fastes at the Palai Garnier:
Capers, not two, round legs on sumptuous
Flooring of polished wood and beeswax to
The great room. Outbreaks rich woods to
The roof of the Opera where the honey is
Harvested freely in hives spread the
Intoxicating agreements absolute beeswax
And honey notes of sandalwood
Sublimated tip and benzoin.

Ulaanbaatar. A camp, a herd of horses.
Gross, a soft and sensual leather
Impregnated tobacco, incense, ambergris,
Angelica root and essence. A wild escaped
Into the desert steppes.

Paradis Latin. Under the historic dome,
Overlooking the meticulously compiled dinner
Show, the dressing rooms are all abuzz.
Slow metamorphosis frivolous awnins,
Rustling of cancan dancers, bird men,
Archangels with rhinestone wings in a
Whirlwind of bare skin, powder, lipstick,
Glitter shadows. A delicious perfume fills
The cabaret.

Provincetown. Along a sandy beach hides,
As an island, artists haven of New England.
Clean air is intoxicating too,
Sea spray and enchanting wild berries,
Wild herbs, mint and cedar trees that grow
For thousands of years at the discretion
Of the dunes and salt marshes.

Roquebrune. We stop in the shade of
Romanesque arches and one gray is a thousand
Aromatic fragrances: wild sage straw rating,
Fresh spearmint, coriander, cistus and small
Grain with lemony accents, incisive.

Rue Saint Honoré. Late afternoon. The
Shop door opens onto the tarmac of old
Paris. A disturbing scent immediately
Invaded space. A cloud of powder, some
Delicate green notes, pink jasmine merge
Deliciously agreement with leathery amber
Ambience of the place.

Saint Cirq. Midi. Under the sun that
Points after the storm, lavender and wet
Earth and humus mist floating on the
Stream that winds through the woods.
Zesty aromatic vapors vetiver with smoky

Santa Rosa, their native city museum,
Plain irresistible smell of maple syrup
Caramelized with waves, addictive hot
Wood, brown sugar and based solar rating
And milk of tuberose, narcissus, ylang

Stockholm. In the maze of winding
Cobbled streets of the old city all in pastel
And ocher, hides the secret address of the
Famous Swedish Elixir. King Gustav II
Drank his Viking warriors to make them
Invincible. The bottle escapes an
Incredible scent of wild plants, cloves,
Lavender, myrrh, vetiver and clary sage.

Tivoli. In the gardens of the Villa d’Este,
Fountains and waterfalls meet. In the
Shade of the ancient cypress trees, it revels
Agrumée cool mists and let yourself be
Enchanted by the haunting scent of the
Leaves of the cedar and cypress wood.

Villa Medici. Along the artist workshops
To large windows on the rooftops of Rome
Unfold majestic gardens of Villa. High
Places of meetings and meditations,
Residents relish its subtle scent of lemon
Leaves, lavender, oregano flowers. In the
Air vibrates the woody notes of cedar and
The large, surrounding, unspeakable, old
Stones under the hot sun.

Yakushima. On the island of
Yakushima, a primary, mysterious forest
Of old cedar trees, carpeted with rare
Mosses and wild azaleas. Huge trunks of
Yakusugi, humus, the incredibly dense
And green vegetation, clear waterfalls,
Exhales a wonderful woody smell, suave,
Purely vegetable.

Zermatt. A typical alpine village, an
Aristocratic resort. In front of the famous
Hotel Monte Rosa, diners enjoy a mulled
Wine while contemplating the eternal
Snows of the Matterhorn. Fruity scent we
Enjoy wild red berries, cranberries,
Currants, blueberries, rounded by a hint of
Liquorice, which exhale the surrounding

06 December 2015

13 November 2015

11 November 2015

10 November 2015


by Robinson Jeffers

I had walked since dawn and lay down to rest on a
     bare hillside
Above the ocean. I saw through half-shut eyelids a
     vulture wheeling high up in heaven,
And presently it passed again, but lower and nearer,
     its orbit narrowing,
     I understood then
That I was under inspection. I lay death-still and
     heard the flight feathers
Whistle above me and make their circle and come
. . . how beautiful he looked, gliding down
On those great sails; how beautiful he looked,
     veering away in the sea-light
     over the precipice. I tell you solemnly
That I was sorry to have disappointed him. To be
     eaten by that beak and
     become part of him, to share those wings and
     those eyes –
What a sublime end of one’s body, what an ensky-
     ment; what a life after death.

29 October 2015

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.


18 October 2015

this was a bad year for blog content
a public forum for drafts is a strange choice ive been alerted
what was it about this that so once appealed
during occupy and cecil's class this gave stability or strength
i dont have those things lately from this or anything
y writes 'i'm open suddenly to pre-you insecurities'
i'm ahead beyond and still back there
newly alarmed at my old volatility.
though now there's some anecdote behind it.
'i'm a spaz for a reason:' a manuscript.
'i didn't hurt you you only think i'm hurting
you:' a series. 'i'm diana ross:' a suite.
'it was never about you it was about my impossible
neediness clinginess sadness voracity starvation
the thing i needed - need - not you - is far away
and upon completion will yet prove not himself
i.e. not 'it' and the search will never stop,
not until the searching subject learns her breathing
exercises and accepts her present moment.
'it's fine here without you' 'it's fine without you, too;'
'the need i feel is self-propelling steam like
hot velvet roiling out of a humidifier;
you'd think considering my breaking my computer
in the spring and dashing my phone's brains out
last week i'd be more compelled to save content online
given my wires cross poorly
given idiocy
and the preternatural cloud
this is one of those exercises that never turns into a poem
even though it's line-broken and attempts to say nice things
it will evade shape and as it lacks a focused character will fail.
focus? i need content. i am grieving. i fucked up some shit
and am doubtful and hurting and fucked everybody over
i like to think behind closed doors when i'm onto myself
as a great controller of others—a farce clearly
your obsessions and your anxieties are harming you
and your work suffers
or rather you don't work when you're like this
the back of your neck hard as a salmon half-bludgeoned to death
and unfit for consumption

29 September 2015

It is raining here for the first time in weeks.
After posting nothing for over a month I worry I'm going to start posting too often.
God forbid I 'give myself away.'

from 'Opfer,' Rilke

O wie blüht mein Leib aus jeder Ader
duftender, seitdem ich dich erkenn;
sieh, ich gehe schlanker und gerader,
und du wartest nur — : wer bist du denn?

28 September 2015


"this was not planned,"
you write below your error.
neither are the good parts. so. it
may be okay. i may come find you.
been writing these things with no ends
which may be like not finishing any songs
or may just be stubbornness
or nerves, not knowing how much
it matters, or may be,
probably is, something else entirely
i.e. something new i.e. something
that's never crossed my mind til now

i.e. a beginning
i.e. every time we contact from now
on i am going to record as
a beginning

13 July 2015

#1 for 30/30 with Jenny.

Long Swim Dream

I waited for you all day. Just
waited and waited for you.
Gulls passed. You slept and turned.
I waited blissfully. Here he comes now,
I thought.

I had your picture you sent
and I gazed at it all day. Just
marveled at the absolute
sweetheart in the mirror. Your
continent undisturbed.

I wanted you
day and night. I was up at dawn
stroking your image
in muggy filtered sunlight.
California was new, a desert again.

I close my eyes. Here you come,
crawling over freestyle,
riving the foam-blistered Atlantic.
The cherry in a Manhattan
candied by bitters and frozen solid.

09 June 2015

Some people insist on exercising the sincerity of their intentions —LH

Is this sort of an obverse 'one of us cannot be wrong' entitlement,
the extreme and nearly self-congratulatory reverse psych of 'no
it wasn't any good / there's no reason why you should
remember me' It may be that I'm a headcase & the only one
Lol tho talk about self-congratulating and -serving

Guess what it is this time, bug?
'Thoughts and feelings'
yes! How did you
'It's often those with you'

Suppose I am guiding a hand 'not from love // but
from love's parts' (Lyn again). Suppose
sick hysteria (produced of care) prevented me
ascending a car I could have driven out
to meet his calmer iteration—he whom,
that which, I'd join by the whole of love
when capable—as surely as performed before,
living together? despite being too young?—
I'll meet you is what I'm saying. I
(gesturing) see you there. The floor of the emptied sack
of a northern California beach, its gray shell
abalone inside, flaked iridescence,
flatly holds us. We read as two mere added
granules, ribbing the sea-mulch surface.
And here I was convinced
this was the beginning of the end,
still in love and already heartbroken,
enraged and exhausted, desperate for a change.
The wet edges of Ocean Beach curl up
and we reconvene at the base of the newly-thrown bowl.

Pencilled into my copy of Book of 1000 Eyes so presumably written in 2012 in Berkeley

I will eat coffee
an egg sandwich and go
to meet my lover
at the copyshop
I don't know
the best he can do
& so can't say
Is that the best you can do
should he bring bad flowers