Spring Ali Smith : Read online

Ali Smith

-Ah, you're reading the book with the Hockney tree image again. The branches have lots of new leaves, I see!

-Yes, yes! YES! This is the third book in the series. I'm very excited. Can't turn the pages fast enough!

-Slow down, no need to rush. No one's calling Time. No one's saying, Read up! Read up!

-You're right, you're right. I need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-That's it, nice and easy. It's only early April, after all. And you have so many other books on your book pile. Eliot, Tokarczuk, Ovid. How's Metamorphoses going by the way ?

-Too MeToo for me. Too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. Think of Philomel. And too many changed women. Think of Daphne. I love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! Not even a Hockney tree would make that ok.

-And what about Eliot and Tokarczuk?

-Madame Sosostris meets Blind Teresias meets Cassandra! That describes my book pile right now. It's as if all four books I'm reading are linked. Ah, April is the cruellest month. Too many books, not enough time. Not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…Tokarczuk…and...

-I didn't catch what you said there...

-I was just musing to myself about Ali Smith and Olga Tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. But they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as I know). There's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. I feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-Why do you always live books so intensely! If a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. Your reading skin's too thin. Is there nothing in your head but..

-I know, I know. O, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old Shakespearian rag, Orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-Tell you what. You need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-Reading these books is like watching a movie. I feel I'm the camera, that I have a birds-eye view. I'm flying high over Eliot's Wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, Frisch weht der Wind, Der Heimat zu, Mein Irisch Kind, Wo weilest du?

-Sounds like you're high alright! Have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-Not mushrooms, just air and water up here. Though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. Depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-Somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. You always mess with my head when we discuss Ali Smith. And this Tokar chick's just as bad.

-Oh, yes, Olga Tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. Her work and Ali Smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female Agnis and Aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. Yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-Cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-Ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. Do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-Tell me.

-Both are dedicated to Hope!


...my English breath in foreign clouds by Tacita Dean, Artist.

336

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That means, imo, that the choice should be -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
based on other considerationsnamely concealability, shootability, ability to rapidly reload and capacity. Sharing information on railway discounts, fares and marketing campaigns. 336 The bays tend to be oval, lining 336 up in a northwest to southeast orientation. At this point, i figured, 336 let's buy a different one, which has been tested by other users. I found that this was a great place to put either an introduction, instructions or both to explain how to use the api documentation. -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
Some territory mechanics have been adjusted: the number of available territory tradepacks at a territory market merchant has been reduced from -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
60 to. See who you know at american bach soloists, leverage your professional network, and get hired. Hrazdina g recent techniques in the analysis of 336 anthocyanins in fruits and beverages. Orochimaru vs deidara and sasori hidan and deidara first joined akatsuki - english sub - duration:. Her way is chaotic, more responsive and uncertain — and that is her brilliance…. Listeners are -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
familiarised to the sound, it allows artists to explore ideas. An evaluation of a data mining signal for amyotrophic lateral sclerosis and statins detected in fda's -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
spontaneous adverse event reporting system. When she tries to explain, shrek rebuffs her with his "ugly beast" overhearing, causing fiona 336 in turn to misunderstand.

Paul, first, thank you very much for your time and 336 efforts on this. As the merchants would take the coins, 336 they would weigh them to see their true value. Ftmw spectroscopy 336 tutorial rotational spectroscopy has primarily been used to investigate fundamental aspects of molecular physics. Original boundaries have changed in the past years so that famous greek 336 cities such as the incredible remains of the city of ephesus are now part of turkey. As revivalism spread through the presbyterian churches, the old disputes between the subscription and anti-subscription parties were recast into conflict -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
between the anti-revival "old side" and pro-revival "new side", respectively. -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
but przybycien, of spanish fork, utah, admitted he wanted to help end her life. Additional safety equipment for the models included front shoulder belts and headrests 336 for both front outboard seating positions and the front parking lights stayed on with the headlights. I feel so lucky to find her home and know her, definitely recommended! Let's start off with some pre-match reading tips: here's a closer look at bvb's preparations for the game, and at their five consecutive league defeats at the allianz arena. This bittersweet comedy is a coming- of- age tale about oliver, a neurotic and smart teenage boy whose life is a movie in his head. Photovoltaics — the future of solar energy generation the idea of converting solar energy into usable energy from a solar cell with the help of semiconductors has changed our world. This gene -ah, you're reading the book with the hockney tree image again. the branches have lots of new leaves, i see!

-yes, yes! yes! this is the third book in the series. i'm very excited. can't turn the pages fast enough!

-slow down, no need to rush. no one's calling time. no one's saying, read up! read up!

-you're right, you're right. i need to be calm and savor every budding idea, every blossoming image.

-that's it, nice and easy. it's only early april, after all. and you have so many other books on your book pile. eliot, tokarczuk, ovid. how's metamorphoses going by the way ?

-too metoo for me. too many rich dicks manipulating the powerless. think of philomel. and too many changed women. think of daphne. i love trees and leaves, but to be detained inside a tree for ever! not even a hockney tree would make that ok.

-and what about eliot and tokarczuk?

-madame sosostris meets blind teresias meets cassandra! that describes my book pile right now. it's as if all four books i'm reading are linked. ah, april is the cruellest month. too many books, not enough time. not enough time to slow-read, to deep-think, to follow the links, especially between…tokarczuk…and...

-i didn't catch what you said there...

-i was just musing to myself about ali smith and olga tokarczuk, two powerful twenty-first century writers who share their year of birth: 1962. but they share more than that: their themes and writing styles overlap quite a bit (though they haven't met as far as i know). there's always absence in their work, missing things, unsaid things, the neighbor gone but where, the man with the hollow core, the hole in the tree trunk, the bite out of the piece of chocolate, loose button holes, people imported, exported, pulled and pushed across borders, missing persons, persons missing. i feel the weight of the 'untold' in their work like pain in an amputated limb.

-why do you always live books so intensely! if a character has a certain dream, you have the dream too. your reading skin's too thin. is there nothing in your head but..

-i know, i know. o, o, o, books morph in my mind like in that old shakespearian rag, orpheus with his lute made trees, and the mountain tops that freeze...

-tell you what. you need to do something different, maybe watch a movie.

-reading these books is like watching a movie. i feel i'm the camera, that i have a birds-eye view. i'm flying high over eliot's wasteland, clods of cloud floating by, full of all the deleted stuff in the world, photos, documents, lost people, forgotten verses, frisch weht der wind, der heimat zu, mein irisch kind, wo weilest du?

-sounds like you're high alright! have you been eating magic mushrooms?

-not mushrooms, just air and water up here. though air and water, like mushrooms, can mean different things to different people. depends on whether you're imprisoned or free, living or dying.

-somehow you've got me thinking of death by water. you always mess with my head when we discuss ali smith. and this tokar chick's just as bad.

-oh, yes, olga tokarczuk deals with ways of dying too. her work and ali smith's intersect in so many areas: cloud photography, heroes who are humble folk, humanitarian causes morphing with fairy tales, male/female agnis and aldas, merging like day and night, orange post nuclear wastelands with no seasons. yea, even unto the bones of the dead.

-cheerful stuff, no doubt about it.

-ah, but there's light peeping out from behind the dark clouds. do you know what the most important element that unites these two writers is?

-tell me.

-both are dedicated to hope!


...my english breath in foreign clouds by tacita dean, artist.
codes for the chloride channel protein, which can malfunction in a variety of ways, each with specific treatment required. We left north west river about an 336 hour and fifteen minutes behind the lead teams.