Everything you need to have a beautiful morning, sleepyhead.

Waking Life

Today us girls are taking a day off, we are all on mini vacations if you will and decided to give ourselves some time to relax. However, we didn’t want to leave you high and dry so here is one of our favorite movies!


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Quote of the Morning


– Mark Twain

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Une firs et pas plu

Corinne Mercadier



Une firs et pas plus is a collection of photographs started in 2000; In this series the principal subject is the contact between the real and oneself. The objects fly and meet the characters. Who notice nothing or catch,accept, confront which happens..

Destiny , ghost, future, silence,….sometimes the object is alone. LIke an event destined more directly for the spectator.

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Daily Lit: A Supermarket in California

          What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for
I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache
self-conscious looking at the full moon.
          In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went
into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
          What peaches and what penumbras!  Whole families
shopping at night!  Aisles full of husbands!  Wives in the
avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what
were you doing down by the watermelons?

          I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,
poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery
          I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the
pork chops?  What price bananas?  Are you my Angel?
          I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans
following you, and followed in my imagination by the store
          We strode down the open corridors together in our
solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen
delicacy, and never passing the cashier.

          Where are we going, Walt Whitman?  The doors close in
an hour.  Which way does your beard point tonight?
          (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the
supermarket and feel absurd.)
          Will we walk all night through solitary streets?  The
trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be

          Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love
past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
          Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher,
what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and
you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat
disappear on the black waters of Lethe? 

Allen Ginsberg, 1955

(Listen to the man himself recite the poem here!)
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Morning Playlist… woops!

(we don’t care that it’s december!)

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