There are times..

There are times when I am absolutely charmed by something I come across in literature.  More often than not, naturally, it is in French literature..but is there any other kind?

Comme l’ambre, le musc, le benjoin et l’encens,
Qui chantent les transports de l’esprit et de sens.

That’s my boo, B.

Sententias meas conferro

Due to an eloquently set example, I have chosen to embark upon this technological nightmare of webloging in the hopes of creating a future, technologically savvy, web existence for literary thoughts and professional materials.  Or maybe I’ll just use this as a location to rant about Deutscheslernen.

Foutre, c’est aspirer à entrer dans un autre, et l’artiste ne sort jamais de lui-même.   -Mon Coeur..

self portraiture..