AFTER THE CURTAIN — A childhood behind the crumbling Iron Curtain. A mix for the final Soviet generation.
The French called this time of day “l’heure bleue.” To the English it was “the gloaming.” The very word “gloaming” reverberates, echoes—the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour—carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, an apprehension of illness, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone. —Joan Didion, Blue Nights
I know of witches who whistle at different pitches, calling things that don’t have names. —Helen Oyeyemi
Hooked on A Feeling. Blue Swede, 1973. That song belongs to me.
j’ai donné mon âme, mon âme et mon amour
from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
John James Audubon, Birds of America: Corvus corvax (Common American Raven), etching and watercolour on paper. c. 1827