A Joy Forever

  1. filmed by: Hardkore79 hardkore79.com
    photographer: William Di Lauro glamourphotographer.org/
    Model: Sharon
    MUA: kitty
    Location: Limbo Studio limbo-studio.com/
    Music: Insipid - Axmusique

    e-mail: hk@hardkore79.com

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  2. A melancholy tale portraying the repercussions of an unabashed vanity.
    From Project EROSion - Volume 2.0.
    projecterosion.com
    Music: Taylor Hayward

    # vimeo.com/75129544 Uploaded 57.9K Plays / / 18 Comments Watch in Couch Mode

  3. # vimeo.com/75096355 Uploaded 41.4K Plays / / 5 Comments Watch in Couch Mode

  4. Room №04 (BACKSTAGE)
    Art of MAVRIN™ studios
    vk.com/mavrinstudios
    facebook.com/art.mavrin
    mavrin models:
    Dmitry Korikov
    dmitrykorikov.com
    Nastya Dym
    director: Alexey Golenkov
    vk.com/id17668919

    # vimeo.com/75093879 Uploaded 144K Plays / / 9 Comments Watch in Couch Mode

  5. This is part llI of an on going series called The White Wall. If you are a model or if you model and those of you who make music and would like to be apart of this project email me. I'm located in the bay area.

    FayRoy album is out now and can be downloaded at
    fayroy.bandcamp.com/

    Directed and edited by: Skylar V Smith facebook.com/skylar.v.joinersmith
    Cinematographer: Andy Hoffman
    Gaffers: Bryan Gordon and Geoff Taylor
    Song by: FayRoy
    Song title: I Had That Feeling Myself
    Shot on: Blackmagic cinema camera
    Models: Anon non non non non/mm# 287950, Natalie Natural, Ana
    Follow me @skylarvsmith
    email: skylarvsmith@gmail.com

    # vimeo.com/74513962 Uploaded 109K Plays / / 12 Comments Watch in Couch Mode

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A Joy Forever

Thomas Hope

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That, whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.

Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimmed and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end!
And now at once, adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.

John Keats

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