The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

The Frame Within the Frame #42

(Woody Allen; 1971)


marietta said...

Just a story.
I remember one day in april,long time ago.the little b0y was 5 jears was a snowing day,it nowed a good deal.mama going with
her boy to the playground.big ,lazy
snowflakes falling to the earth,
weird.all the playanimals etc.are
full from snow.the boy take a little twig and wrod in the snow.
"wat do you wrodet dear ?" ask is a secret
in the the snow flies !

marietta said...

PS:the boy answer"this is a secret,
mamy,you can not read white of
as the snow flies!

SASHA said...

these are awesome, the frame within a frame series. thanks.