Monday, 30 June 2014

Saturday, 28 June 2014

I Let Go


         And then something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

Chuck Palahnuik

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via Katgeorge 21portable

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

Named Me as the Fool


                                  Almost blue
                                  Flirting with this disaster became me
                                  It named me as the fool who only aimed to be

Almost Blue  
(Costello)    
Chet Baker   
1988       

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Criss Cross
Robert Siodmak
1949

Monday, 23 June 2014

Any Street Corner

             At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face.

Albert Camus

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Rear Window
1953

Playing with Shadows

       
        Sundown in the desert beat out any other geography hands down. On the water the sunset would linger, bouncing on the waves, but in the desert there was nothing for the light to hold onto, nothing to trap it, bribe it to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. It ran, fled after the day like a scared rabbit. It was my favorite time of day. I loved it out here, for however long it lasted. I thrived in the liminal time. The grey area between light and dark. Playing with shadows was how i made my living.

from
Disappear
Jaq Greenspon
Las Vegas Noir
Akashic Books 2008

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Las Vegas 1942
Peter Stackpole
via mrsdentonorahippo

Sunday, 22 June 2014

Saturday, 21 June 2014

Blue Valentines


                            She sends me valentines all the way from Philadelphia
                            To mark the anniversary of someone that i used to be  

Blue Valentines
(Waits)
Tom Waits

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Eleanor Parker
Life magazine
via NoirbyNight

Lay on the Fog


            We drove away from Las Olindas through a series of little dank beach towns with shack-like houses built down on the sand close to the rumble of the surf and larger houses built back on the slopes behind. A yellow window shone here and there, but most of the houses were dark. A smell of kelp came in off the water and lay on the fog. The tires sang on the moist concrete of the boulevard. The world was a wet emptiness.
                 
Raymond Chandler
The Big Sleep
1939

image
unknown

Thursday, 19 June 2014

Past Paints the Present


       Best not to mix the past with the present. The present paints the past with gold. The past paints the present with lead.

Henry Rollins

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Jack Delano
Union station Chicago
1943