Openness

88%Conscientiousness

38%Extraversion

25%Agreeableness

56%Neuroticism

75%

Openness

This trait refers to the extent to which you prefer novelty versus convention. Approximately 88% of respondents have a lower openness raw percentage than yours. From the way you answered the questions, you seem to describe yourself as someone who is far more intellectually curious and sensitive to beauty than most. You might say that your beliefs are individualistic and frequently drift towards the unconventional, and that you enjoy your imagination and the exciting places it takes you!

Reflective question: What place do you think that tradition has in society (if any)?

Conscientiousness

This trait refers to the extent to which you prefer an organised, or a flexible, approach in life. Approximately 8% of respondents have a lower conscientiousness raw percentage than yours. From the way you answered the questions, you seem to describe yourself as someone who is impulsive and whimsical, and fine with it! From your responses it appears that you would say that sometimes decisions need to be made quickly, and that you make them quicker than most! You would say you are zany, colourful, and just generally great fun to be with... as long as someone isn't relying on you to get some work done.

Reflective question: How do you feel when you are working with someone who is very organised?

Extraversion

This trait refers to the extent to which you enjoy company, and seek excitement and stimulation. Approximately 3% of respondents have a lower extraversion raw percentage than yours. From the way you answered the questions, you seem to describe yourself as someone who is quiet and somewhat withdrawn. Your answers describe you as someone who doesn't need lots of other people around to have fun, and can sometimes find that people are tiring.

Reflective question: How do you like to spend your spare time?

Agreeableness

This trait refers to the way you express your opinions and manage relationships. Approximately 28% of respondents have a lower agreeableness raw percentage than yours. From the way you answered the questions, you seem to describe yourself as someone who people can find difficult to get along with when you first meet, as you can be suspicious of their motives. Your responses suggest that over time though people warm to you, and you to them, although that doesn't stop you telling them "how it is".

Reflective question: When others are experiencing problems, what do you do?

Neuroticism (Emotional stability)

This trait refers to the way you cope with, and respond to, life's demands. Approximately 98% of respondents have a lower neuroticism raw percentage than yours. From the way you answered the questions, you seem to describe yourself as someone who tends to be more self-conscious than many. Based on your responses, you come across as someone who can find it hard to not get caught up by anxious or stressful situations. You might say that you are in touch with your own feelings.

Reflective question: When do you not feel in control of your emotions?

Jungian Typology Estimate (Private)

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Post Results to News Feed

Research has found that the Big Five personality traits are significantly related to Jungian Typology (e.g. the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator). This is a popular alternative personality framework regularly used for personal development, in which Types are used rather than Traits. Based on your Big Five trait scores, your estimated Type is shown below (if you have already taken a Jungian Typology test and got a different result, this can be changed from the More Options section).

INFP Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving INFPs focus much of their energy on an inner world dominated by intense feeling and deeply held ethics. They seek an external life that is in keeping with these values. Loyal to the people and causes important to them, INFPs can quickly spot opportunities to implement their ideals. They are curious to understand those around them, and so are accepting and flexible except when their values are threatened. They have the ability to see good in almost anyone or anything.

Personality Matches (Private)

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myPersonality has found that the Big Five traits are related to various life behaviours and choices.

Please bear in mind that these are very specific matches. Few tests will even try to give such specific information, so cut us some slack if it is not perfect for you! :-)

Match: My Closest College MajorMy Closest US StateMy Closest Country
Based solely on your personality trait scores, the top three closest college major matches for your personality (out of 60 majors and "undecided") are: (Click to view your full ranked list and reason why major matches your personality)	#1 Graphic Design #2 English Literature #3 Photography

Todo es tan complicado aquí. O lo parece.
La gente parece enmascarada. Hipocresía.
Y yo me hundo entre las paredes de mi cuarto.

Yo me voy.
I've had enough.
Why not give it a try?

Me voy a quedar aquí sentada esperándote. He de advertirte de que soy fuerte y decidida y no me iré hasta que te vea aparecer. Podría pasar la corte de una princesa india en sus elefantes por encima de mí; incluso permanecería aunque la lluvia me golpeara tan fuerte que mis brazos se volvieran de color morado o azul o cualquier otro color, y las heridas fueran tan grandes que mis pensamientos se pudieran escapar en ríos de agua roja y contaminada. Ahora tumbada sobre tí, la tierra mojada empapa cada tejido de mi cara, de mis piernas y de toda mi existencia. Humedad se expande a través de mi sin pedir permiso, como un cáncer que invade mi cuerpo y lo deja sin vida. Ya soy parte de la tierra y siempre lo seré, y algún día en mi lugar crecerá un árbol más alto que tú y que yo y que todos vosotros.

No te asustes, te espero. Te he dicho que vengas.

Ven cuanto antes, primavera. Llena la atmósfera de radiación maligna, proyecta la sombra de tu creación sobre tí misma. Vive tu auge, satisfácete con tu luminosidad y estropéalo todo con alguna nube: a la mañana siguiente las gaviotas flotarán putrefactas sobre el mar, y podrás decir que eres así, preciosa y efímera como las olas del mar que arrastran los cadáveres de tus siervos, los que viven por tí y siempre lo harán.

No te preocupes, primavera. En unos meses morirás.

a kind of laziness, care for her beauty and the slowness of her movements

shortened the hours of the day for Elsie. those of the night, given to sleep

or love, seemed short. since they had both stated, in due time, that between

lovers silence is golden, they could remain silent without impunity until

further notice. they never went out, came home or wandered through the woods

except together, leaning against one another, or he walking behind her, while

she trailed behind her a ribbon, one end of a veil, or part of a dress, like a

lead which had been broken.

I like the feeling of being a blank state.
I think I’ve come through something.
This is hard for me to admit.
In the past I have always expected the worst to happen.
Perhaps I still do think the worst will happen,
But what if it doesn’t?
What if, at this point,
I am in fact free.
That I can walk down the street.
Get on the bus.
Buy a magazine.
Talk to a guy in a shop.
Try on pair of shoes.
I don’t need permission.
I can do that.

I got my room now,
And that’s important.
It’s like a base for me,
And then there’s that guy, James.
I don’t want him to bother me.
I don’t want anyone to bother me.
I don’t want anyone in my hair.
I got my room and that’s the main thing,
But he is okay.
If I could allow one person to bother me,
It might possibly be James.
Who knows?
It is too early to say.

I still got the CD that one of the girls in the hospital made me.
I can’t imagine who made it for her.
All of the music is pretty old on it.
Pretty random stuff
I like it though.
I wouldn’t have liked this stuff before,
But hey, I’m a blank slate.
I can like it.
There’s no rules.
No agenda.
No learning.
Just music.
Sweet, simple music.


I’ve been memorizing my favorites.
I don’t have any instruments.
I’ve just been sitting in a patch of sunlight
At the put of the bed in front of the mirror.
I keep one headphone out,
And I sing the track along with the CD.
I wonder if my voice sounds good.
I wonder if I’m even in tune.
I have even tried a few scales,
Though very quietly.
How uncool is that?
Me singing scales in my new room.
On the disk is written Jackson Brown, Nina Simone, Bill Withers
On the disk is written Howard Jones.
Right now I feel like a starving person who is tasting food for the first time.
Howard Jones is my Mozart.
He is like buttered toast.
Don’t ever tell anyone I said that.

I wonder what I should do.
When I was in the hospital it was easy.
They had a schedule.
I was like a kid the whole time.
They were in charge; I was a kid.
I jumped up and came down here.
I put from my mind comfortable thoughts about hospital life.
I am trying to block out thoughts about sex.
I feel like I want to sing, but I’m in the library.
I have fantasized for two years now about a job.
Any job.
Any job that would plucks me back into some sort of normal rhythm,
Some sort of normal society.
I thought for a while that the flock was going to be enough,
But I have to keep moving.
I am twenty three.
What the hell am I doing in a high street library
Writing about nothing?

I wouldn’t mind kissing him once more.
Or at least, I wouldn’t mind having a kiss only policy with him.
For some reason I feel that it shouldn’t go any further,
But he’s a pretty sensational kisser, hence the policy.
I wonder if I could do myself some sort of internal injury.
If I just kissed then left the room as soon as the kiss was over.
If I never took the seduction any further forward,
I couldn’t damage a kidney or a loin or something.
It’s a bit annoying I can’t go into the boy’s shop.
I want his advice.
I was to dress, or something.
But I look too much like a boy these days.
Why can’t I look like a girly girl once in a while?

dibujo, enero 2010

Hace tiempo que yo ya no sueño nada. Silencio, vacío. Vacío. Vacía está la palma de mi mano cuando la balanceo. Las hojas del otoño caen sobre mi cabeza cuando camino, golpeándome suavemente y despeinando mi cabello, ya de por si destartalado desde que te conocí. Grito y protesto, pero el color de estas hojas cada vez se acerca más al color de la madera. Cada vez son más duras, caen con más fuerza, advirtiéndome que lo peor está aún por llegar. Siguen cayendo. Hay cientos de ellas en el aire, cuando de pronto es un copo de nieve el que me empapa la cabeza. Me aplasta, me caigo. Me estoy cayendo y no pienso levantarme. El suelo helado es una triste cama para pasar el invierno, pero aún así me mantiene calma y serena. Cierro los ojos hasta que ya no puedo más. Y sueño que algún día volverá el sol, y las flores crecerán en mi pelo, llenas de colores que harán que la gente se de la vuelta al pasar junto a mí. Seguirán creciendo hasta que toda mi existencia se cubra de ellas. Y un día, morirán. Y lo que quede de mí no será más que un pétalo marchito y maloliente.

Tinta roja. Rojo como unos labios recién pintados, justo antes de extender el carmín por el labio de abajo. Rojo como el cielo cuando el día oscurece, troquelado sobre fondo negro con siluetas de los pájaros.

Todo es rojo. Del color de las lágrimas que derramé el día que te fuiste. Lágrimas tintadas del color de los corazones cuando se resquebrajan y la sangre se dispara en todas direcciones.

Rojo como tú y como yo.

Fucking stressed out and moody.
Can't stand myself or anyone else...

It seems that everything will end tomorrow.
I hope so, I really do...
(Please, pretty pretty please)

Si por un momento...


Foto: Cambridge. Fachada Mill Road, july 09.

[29/12/09]

You feel yourself in the air. You're flying, like an helium balloon. You're leaving me. Your feet can't touch the ground. You're going up and up, not being able to stop flying.

You see me down there. You look at me. I'm scared. I tremble. I cry. Where are you going? I see you moving your mouth, but I can't hear what you say. I can't reach you either. What should I do? I have no wings. I wish I was a balloon like you. I wish...

The wind blows. You're far. You're a dark point in the bright sky. But I can see you. I can see you moving with the wind. I'm desperate. What can I do? What can I do to save you from that suffering? What…?

I've bought one hundred balloons and I've tied them to my wrist. I'm starting to fly. Slowly, I'm approaching you. I try, try, try to fly. Now, I'm closer. Almost there… But still, unable to touch you. You try to move towards me. I try too. But the wind won't let us.

I'm struggling. I keep trying. I keep trying to break the wind. Make it stop.

I'm around you. Your hair touches my face but your hands are tied together. I will untie them. I will. I promise I will try until the helium in my balloons runs out and I fall like a broken parachute.

...we'll never change.

(let's go out for a drive in your car,
we don't have to go that far.

let's try to find a road that we don't know,
till we don't know where we are.)

Noche de sombras, claroscuro en tu rostro.
Miles de pequeñas partículas esparcidas por el aire bailan a tu alrededor, cuando mueves tu cuerpo, ladeas tu cabeza... te detienes.
Y las hadas salen de entre las nubes, bajan hasta tus rodillas - en las que se posan cuidadosamente - mientras tu sigues ladeando tu cabeza, a la vez que tu cuerpo.
Cuerpo recostado, pero aún tenso. Tu respiración se apaga - tu corazón no lo hace. Tus musculos se relajan.
Te peinan las estrellas (con sus puntas) al caer sobre tu cabello - delicado, cae sobre tu cara.
Tus ojos desvían la atención de los seres mágicos. Y se cierran. Pero siguen ahí, en la oscuridad, tan preciosos como siempre, aunque nadie los vea ya. Y ya no ven nada, sólo sueñan. Sueñan que se hace de día y ven otra vez la luz del sol. El sol reflejado en ellos, les encanta (aunque les haga llorar).
Tú soñarás, bajo tus párpados. Tus brazos inertes también lo harán. Y tus dedos tocarán en las teclas de un piano una melodía, dedicada a la luna, al claro de luna. Luz y oscuridad. Emoción.
Y luego el despertar.

De momento, la noche va a continuar.
Y el claro de luna te seguirá iluminando (cada milímetro de tu existencia), hasta que despiertes.

Clair de lune, ephemère, intense.



Música de Claude Debussy

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on; And our little life is rounded with a sleep"

- The Tempest, Shakespeare.

tengo
ganas
de
tocar

If She Wants Me - Belle and Sebastian

Esta canción me hace feliz.

Esta fue una de mis canciones favoritas durante muchos años. Y me recuerda tantas cosas... La primera vez que la escuché tenía unos 12 o 13 años. Me la he encontrado por casualidad entre mi música... Y me sigue pareciendo preciosa.

¿Qué se ve a través de las alas de una mariposa?
Traslúcida cortina de luz coloreada.
Inmensa en los ojos, diminuta en proporción.

En la parte derecha, veo el agua. Veo el sol reflejado en el agua. El agua refleja el sol sobre mi ojo.
En la parte izquierda, veo un árbol. Veo un árbol con gotas de agua verdes sobre las hojas. Las hojas reflejan el verde sobre mi ojo.
En la parte central, veo... no veo nada. No hay sol, no hay luz, no hay color.

Enciende las luces. Abre las cortinas.
El mundo es de color negro.

'Film Music' es una de las mejores canciones que he escuchado en algún tiempo.




Pertenece al primer LP de Electrelane, 'Rock it to the Moon' (2001), prácticamente instrumental de principio a fin. Le siguieron 3 LPs más, y hace un año y algo se disolvieron.

Siéntate, justo aquí, junto a mí.
Mírame a los ojos.
Sumérjete en ellos.
¿Lo ves ahora?
Mi inmensidad.
Alcanzar la superficie es dificil. Continúa nadando. No desistas.
Aunque veas la luz, aún queda un poco, pero al final lo conseguirás.
¿Me entiendes ahora?
No te pierdas. Sólo nada hacia arriba.
No puedo hacer nada desde aquí. Sólo observarte con estos ojos en los que te has clavado hace unos segundos. Te juro que si pudiera hacer algo lo haría. Pero no es así.
Hazlo por mí. Sigue nadando.

Totalmente hipnotizada por 'Devotion'

Aquí dejo una canción:
Beach House - Holy Dances

Más canciones aquí: Spotify

The Tea Lovers

Spring came
I grew on the grass
Like a wild flower
Asking for some water
And you fed me with your love
You fed me

We were the tea lovers
Sharing cups and glances
Of love and desire

Spring passed
I died inside your books
Like a bookmark between
The pages of your favourite novel
Where I could see your eyes
Every time you read the lines
Of a neverending story
Which talked about us
About us

We were the tea lovers
Sharing cups and glances
Of love and desire

You took me by the hand
Petals in the hair
Smiles in the heart

algunas de mis absurdas ideas...

Aparte de la música, me ha encantado este vídeo, realizado por un fan de Death Cab for Cutie.



En su página se puede leer más información sobre la realización del video, como por ejemplo esta lista donde indica los fotogramas de cada palabra. [Click para ampliar]



Otros de sus magnificos cortos son las series Eclectic. Es increible su forma de filmar, basada en fotografías, pues dice que la fotografía le otorga mucha más calidad de imagen. En la página de cada video se puede leer el making of y acceder a la descarga en alta resolución de los vídeos.
Aquí os la dejo: http://rossching.com/

"Eclectic: My First Time Lapse Experiment"

"Eclectic 2.0: Earth, Water, Sky"

"Eclectic 3.0: The Roads Less Travelled"

Cassie Kammerzell

"moonbloom"

"littlelife

"blood red bird"

"untitled"




http://www.flickr.com/photos/beehives/

Opheliac

"Seeing Through Chiffon"



http://www.flickr.com/photos/opheliac/

Alondra Bentley

"I feel alive" (Con K&K)


"Sunglasses"

Hoy ha llegado una ráfaga de viento.

Una ráfaga que se ha llevado las últimas hojas secas que quedaban por la calle, y las ha arrastrado hasta el fin del mundo. Y con ellas se ha ido el frio y la lluvia. Se ha llevado por los aires los edredones y las chaquetas de punto.

La gente ha salido a la calle en pantalones cortos, asombrada por el remolino que se ha llevado las cosas feas del invierno.

Las flores se han quedado, y la hierba también, así como la arena de playa entre los dedos de los pies. Aún tardarán un tiempo en irse.

Broadcast - I Found the F

I found the fragrance separate from the flower, in all the logic I was lost.

Cari Ann Wayman - yyellowbird photography

Una de mis fotógrafas favoritas del momento.
Creo que sobran las palabras.

"chairandwindows"





"book2"




"arewe"




"incrediblyclose"




"thedammageisdone"




"playgroundlove"




"awayfromtheground"




"thewayyousaygoodmorning"



"forforever"



"prettyblue"



"desk01"

Huele a flores.
Huele a rosas, margaritas y girasoles.
Huele a hierba húmeda y a caracoles.

También huele a caricias. Y a besos.
Huele a tí. Y a tu pelo. Y a tu piel, tan blanca y suave.
Tan blanca como las nubes y tan suave como las moquetas del suelo sobre las que hemos dormido tantas veces.

No me sueltes. Por favor.