the most beautiful song I have heard in a long time

If you were a river of whiskey and I was a diamond jug I would let you fill me up until I overflow until I overflowed we we would toss and turn we we would toss and turn on the muddy banks of the jelly roll I can feel my life beating slow I can feel my life beating low I can feel your mind it's right in line with my my mind New Whiskey River by Hope For Agoldensummer

The Overview Effect

"When we originally went to the moon, our total focus was on the moon. We weren't thinking about looking back at the Earth. But now that we've done it, that may well have been the most important reason that we went."

OVERVIEW from Planetary Collective on Vimeo.

Waters of March

Afloat, Adrift, a flight, a wing, a hawk, a quail, the promise of Spring

A stick, a stone, It's the end of the road, It's the rest of a stump,It's a little alone. It's a sliver of glass, It is life, it's the sun, It is night, it is death, It's a trap, it's a gun. The oak when it blooms, A fox in the brush, A knot in the wood, The song of a thrush The wood of the wind, A cliff, a fall, A scratch, a lump, It is nothing at all. It's the wind blowing free, It's the end of the slope, It's a beam, it's a void, It's a hunch, it's a hope. And the river bank talks of the waters of March, It's the end of the strain, The joy in your heart The foot, the ground, The flesh and the bone, The beat of the road, A slingshot's stone. A fish, a flash, A silvery glow, A fight, a bet, The range of a bow. The bed of the well, The end of the line, The dismay in the face, It's a loss, it's a find A spear, a spike, A point, a nail, A drip, a drop, The end of the tale A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light, The shot of a gun in the dead of the night. A mile, a must, A thrust, a bump, It's a girl, it's a rhyme, It's a cold, it's the mumps. The plan of the house, The body in bed, And the car that got stuck, It's the mud, it's the mud Afloat, adrift, A flight, a wing, A hawk, a quail, The promise of spring And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the promise of life, It's the joy in your heart A stick, a stone, It's the end of the road, It's the rest of a stump, It's a little alone. A snake, a stick, It is John, it is Joe, It's a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe. A point, a grain, A bee, a bite, A blink, a buzzard, A sudden stroke of night. A pin, a needle, A sting, a pain, A snail, a riddle, A wasp, a stain. A pass in the mountains, A horse and a mule, In the distance the shelves, rode three shadows of blue. And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart A stick, a stone, The end of the road, The rest of a stump, A lonesome road, A sliver of glass, A life, the sun, A knife, a death, The end of the run And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the end of all strain, It's the joy in your heart. -Waters of March

why do I live in Bushwick?

Bushwick Daily - A Night In Bushwick from Bushwick Daily on Vimeo.

I adore this.

AEPH LIVE @ TWISTED SESSION (RENNES)

I dont always dance to EDM, but when I do I dance to this:

AEPH LIVE @ TWISTED SESSION (RENNES)