Green cage in Porto Ercole. Photo: a © signature mmm production

Despite all my rage, I’m still just a rat in a cage.
—Smashing Pumpkins

Your perspective on life comes from the cage you were held captive in.
—Shannon L. Alder

If you haven’t yet, switch to my new blog. We will all have to sooner or later.

Sometimes you have to play a long time to be able to play like yourself.
—Miles Davis

Photo: Gelateria della Palma in Roma. A © signature mmm production

Happy birthday, self! And thank you all who come to play.

Since I’m inarticulate, I express myself with images.
—Helen Levitt

Nah. Just lazy. In Orbetello. Photo: a © signature mmm production

The pictures are there, and you just take them.
—Robert Capa

A camera is a tool for learning how to see without a camera.
—Dorothea Lange

Quotes reblogged from Lignum Draco’s ETCETERA ETCETERA ETCETERA
Location: home
Photo: a © signature mmm production

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
—Annie Dillard

“Come on, guys, let’s wait for her!” Around Roma with friends. Photo: a © signature mmm production

Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.
—Annie Dillard

Harriot Stanton Blatch: “Sojourner, can’t you read?”
Sojourner Truth: “Oh no, honey, I can’t read little things like letters. I read big things like men.”

From 12 Historical Women Who Gave No F*cks

My two reading matters, one bigger bestia than the other. Piran, Slovenia. Photo: a © signature mmm production

The only thing that makes life worth living is the possibility of experiencing now and then a perfect moment. And perhaps even more than that, it’s having the ability to recall such moments in their totality, to contemplate them like jewels.
—John Bowles

Six friends doing their own perfect take on Village People for sister’s 30. Photo: MM

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: Dance

The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.
—L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between (quote reblogged from Zimmerbitch)

Lefkada 07: past, foreign country, differently. Photo: MP

When happy 8th goes Marching in

Now is the time to Mother a new story into the world.
—Cathy Pagano

Mother a new story, heal the mother wound, fill the mother gap, and sister a new mister? 😀 Happy March 8th and solar eclipse to all concerned.

Photo: a © signature mmm production

Give the children love, more love and still more love – and the common sense will come by itself.
—Astrid Lindgren (quote reblogged from Pilot Fish)

Yes, mom, your shoes again. As for common sense: no matter how it may look like, promise, it IS in there somewhere :D. Photo: a © signature mmm production

You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.
—Dorothy Parker

Not horse, donkey. Photo: a © signature mmm production

You may have the Universe if I may have Italy.
—Giuseppe Verdi
(Quote reblogged from Italophilia. Grazie!)

The Italy of my amore, taken by him with his phone at two different times of day: early in the morning as he was waiting for his daily train to take him to work…

…and in Ostia with the setting sun. I love it how despite working so hard he still has eyes for beauty around him. Photo: MC

Hey you, dragging the halo-
how about a holiday in the islands of grief?

Tongue is the word I wish to have with you.
Your eyes are so blue they leak.

Your legs are longer than a prisoner’s
last night on death row.
I’m filthier than the coal miner’s bathtub
and nastier than the breath of Charles Bukowski.

You’re a dirty little windshield.

I’m standing behind you on the subway,
hard as calculus. My breath
be sticking to your neck like graffiti.

I’m sitting opposite you in the bar,
waiting for you to uncross your boundaries.

I want to rip off your logic
and make passionate sense to you.

I want to ride in the swing of your hips.

My fingers will dig in you like quotation marks,
blazing your limbs into parts of speech.

But with me for a lover, you won’t need
catastrophes. What attracted me in the first place
will ultimately make me resent you.

I’ll start telling you lies,
and my lies will sparkle,
become the bad stars you chart your life by.

I’ll stare at other women so blatantly
you’ll hear my eyes peeling,

because sex with you is like Great Britain:
cold, groggy, and a little uptight.

Your bed is a big, soft calculator
where my problems multiply.

Your brain is a garage
I park my bullshit in, for free.

You’re not really my new girlfriend,
just another flop sequel of the first one,
who was based on the true story of my mother.

You’re so ugly I forgot how to spell.

I’ll cheat on you like a ninth grade math test,
break your heart just for the sound it makes.

You’re the ‘this’ we need to put an end to.
The more you apologize, the less I forgive you.

So how about it?

—Jeffrey McDaniel, The Jerk

La morte, Il giardino dei tarocchi, Niki de Saint Phalle.
Photo: a © signature mmm production