Dylan Just Makes It Make Sense

Like A Rolling Stone

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

The Artist, brush in hand painting His strokes
Vibrant and fluid

A perfect watercolor, a Monet
Each whist of the hand bringing forth life and light
The detail, exquisite but with a purpose beyond its parts
The night clouds suffocate, inviting confusion and chaos
This night is crisp as Autumn, grand strokes, impasto-like
Lungs fill with breath for the first time
A life once dead, now rhythmically sketched into the Masterpiece
Color in every crack of the canvas, the sky slick as oil
The Artist ravishing her soul with pure pigment, rich and penetrating
The Creator joining the meaning of her life to His craft

A piece inspired by a piece

Runnin' from what's chasin' me
Hopin' to appear as a phantom to what's real, what's right
Disappearin' from those I know and don't
No promises just lies
the same ones been chasin' me for a while
Thought I killed em but I just got around em
Looks like the bramble finally got a hold
pullin' me down
no more runnin'
just crawlin', eatin' dirt
like runnin' through molasses
a field of flowers whose petals are broken glass
tearin' me apart

Propriety

I would like to be perceived in this way:

"Instead of being restrained by a sense of propriety, it is a sense of propriety which inspires my actions"
Marie de Lafayette
Princesse de Cleves

"Murder in the City"

The Avett Brothers

If I get murdered in the city
Don’t go revengin in my name
One person dead from such is plenty
No need to go get locked away

When I leave your arms
The things that I think of
No need to get over ??
I’m comin home

I wonder which brother is better
Which one our parents love the most
I sure did get in lots of trouble
They said to let the other go

A tear fell from my father’s eyes
I wondered what my dad would say
He said I love you
And I’m proud of you both, in so many different ways

If I get murdered in the city
Go read the letter in my desk
Don’t worry with all my belongings
But pay attention to the list

Make sure my sister knows I loved her
Make sure my mother knows the same
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name

Le Style

I love Gwyneth Paltrow's chic outfit in this photo. These colors are timeless and flattering. I adore the riding boots with tights and the short dress. I love the simplicity, yet sheer brilliance and quality of each piece she wears. Bravo Gwyneth!
The second photo is something I love to wear. The cardigan with the little dress and belt is just the right balance of casual and sleek. ooh la la.

Clothing is a pretty essential part of my life. I know that this sounds incredibly superficial, but I mean that for me it is an expression of how I feel. I absolutely believe that clothing is art. It takes me just about as much time to put on an outfit like this as it does a pair of jeans and T-shirt, but you just have to get good at it. I like to see how other people dress as well. The colors, cuts, and small intricacies on people's clothes are exhilarating. Again, detail captures my attention and so clothes, like food, are yet another example of the creative process from something simple to something distinguished, a thing of beauty.

Le Style