Day after day I think of you as soon as I wake up. Someone has put cries of birds on the air like jewels.
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Day after day I think of you as soon as I wake up. Someone has put cries of birds on the air like jewels.
“The pistol-shot of the painter’s eye dislocates the real. Then the painter puts it up again and organizes it in that same eye, according to his taste, his methods, his Ideal Beauty.”
Robert Bresson