tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:/posts mark von rosenstiel is present. 2025-06-19T17:36:04Z tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2204914 2025-06-19T17:36:03Z 2025-06-19T17:36:04Z yeah, we do weddings
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2204100 2025-06-16T19:52:34Z 2025-06-16T19:52:35Z have you ever seen...
... the historical documentary of our current political state:Starship Troopers? 

MARK.

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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2172921 2025-02-04T00:42:01Z 2025-02-04T00:42:02Z to whom it may concern
In the corner of the room there were postcards of highway scenes; dark expanses of asphalt under stars and moons, but no sun. Every once in a while, in one of the postcards, there would be a street light to give the impression that the roads were in use.

All the postcards were blank, except for one that said "see you at the party!". There was no address on it, just a little drawing of a sunflower where the sender information should have been.

When I left the room, I stacked up all the postcards and left the one with writing on it to the side for the next person to find more easily.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2159777 2024-12-18T06:35:54Z 2024-12-18T06:35:54Z Father's have pets ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2145413 2024-10-15T04:16:36Z 2024-10-15T04:16:37Z the suburbs of culture.
Discuss. 
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2145095 2024-10-13T20:49:01Z 2024-10-13T20:49:01Z see ya ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2144968 2024-10-13T00:38:59Z 2024-10-13T00:39:00Z lines on lines
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2144223 2024-10-09T16:50:47Z 2024-10-11T17:17:18Z the man through town (or why there are strange shadows at sunset)

There's a man who walks through town with a large piece of driftwood stuck to his back. No one knows if he fell and it is impaling him, or if he has somehow sewn his clothes around it; fabric becoming a holster for future firewood. His hearing is quite bad, so to approach him with questions regarding the origins of the wood, poses a danger of him spinning and striking your person in his startled state, so all in town leave him be.

The only time we hear words from his mouth is when we sit near to him during sunset. The sun slowly wraps his face in sheets of glowing stories that speak of cosmic darkness and her children. 

Of the beginning of it all. 

The sheets hang off his body, til they touch the driftwood on his back, spreading strange shadows across the sand to his side, causing him to look and mumble, "what a strange looking bird."
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2143899 2024-10-07T23:57:37Z 2024-10-11T17:15:45Z shadows and bats at different sizes

I've been thinking about scale invariant structures, which has been making me think a lot of shadows; shadows of skyscrapers and cigarettes stubbed out on sidewalks look pretty much the same.

And if we think of shadows as a layer of obfuscation, then things like direct sunlight are just really bright shadows; they are layers that hide a structure that can only be seen at a certain brightness. Maybe there’s something to the idea that you have to shine the right flashlight into the cave to find the bat you are looking for.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2143618 2024-10-06T23:21:29Z 2024-10-06T23:21:29Z if...
... you're wiping your face with a towel while wearing a suit, you're only bringing attention to the rivers of sweat below your neckline.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2143598 2024-10-06T22:44:27Z 2024-10-07T17:35:25Z she knows everything

Setting fence posts in concrete is a bit like the process of dying. I’m not speaking to the fully awful physicality of punching holes into the earth, but more to the fact that as the concrete fills the hole, mixes with water, and the post becomes more and more rigid, attention has to be paid more and more closely in order to make sure that as rigidity fully takes on, the post is where you meant it to be. There’s no fussing with the position once the hole is topped off, and what is left is a monument to a moment’s time of work; a reflection on a life. The metaphor can run on with the hanging of boards and whatnot, but I think I’ll leave it right there. The fact is that everything is in everything else. There is no boredom, only a failure to see a new relationship or shell that an action or moment is wrapped in.

I have recently been thinking of standing on a shore and watching something in the ocean with another person and wondering about the shared experience. How do you create depth when there is no eye contact? Or is there depth in the same way? Maybe staring into an ocean can make one blurry eyed, and see mountains in their filmy eyes; thick with something like spit or contacts left in overnight.

Or maybe oceans are just as good as mountains, because what are waves if not geologically sped up mountains; forming and dissolving in seconds, showcasing a theatre piece titled “50 million years”.

I was in the grocery store a couple days ago, buying yogurt, and Katy Perry was on. For some reason it transported me to driving down the California cost, listening to Firework with a friend of mine, windows down, both of us looking out at the ocean and I think, *I think*, we were thinking the same thing:

You just gotta ignite the light

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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2143242 2024-10-05T03:25:19Z 2024-10-05T03:25:20Z moonlight on barking dogs and hat hooks

The last step off the porch is a longer drop when you are off the side near the yard. “Be careful” is the words of whoever is leading the way, headlamp held above their head; lighting the way mostly for themselves, but giving scraps of light to some soggy shoes behind them.

I can hear toes making out in wet socks, or maybe making the sounds of dogs tongues lapping up wet dog food.

The windows of the house are all shapes that end in sides divided by 2. Maybe because some windows are meant to be gazed out by a couple at a time, or 4 people or an army of twins. People that look out at the same ocean, sand familiar between them, but not knowing each other's faces as they are forever waiting for a sunset that never comes. Or was it a sunrise?

Inside an airstream a short distance away nails steal hats from heads and there is the feeling that a spiritual process is captured in clay. It’s good to remember at times like this that objects can repel evil or be an attractor for love, but rarely do they do both.

The sky is clear with a cloud grumbling over a small hill, speaking of the cold front of water being dragged in on the backs of jellyfish.

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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2142960 2024-10-03T21:00:46Z 2024-10-03T21:00:46Z There you are, brother, floating in the sky above my heart

There are trolley tracks through town that glisten like fresh blisters on heels that have walked uphill for too long; everything in the air is ready to pop like balloons left near heaters. Pop with history.

Pop. There goes the memory of baggies in couches and the smell of plastic on fire.
Pop. There goes rolled ankles on cobblestone.
Pop. There goes.

What are we all waiting for in this cafe during spring with too many scarves on the coat rack? All the stop lights work in the city, and the seat belts are brand new in every car. The sky never turns that dangerous orange black, but sets with intention that hints at a meditation practice that informs the breath.

When did the sun learn to breathe? To whisper intentions and mantras, instead of look to the constellations strung on its neck like a bear learning to make fish heads into jewelry; paws smashing into rivers on beat, jewelry flung towards gaping maws with their gills and mouths fluttering in 1/4 and 1/2 beats.

Now and then we cover the setting sun with coins or perfectly align them behind new geometries. It’s rare. But we do it.

Sometimes that coin is one you gave to me. 

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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2119680 2024-06-28T01:23:11Z 2024-06-28T01:23:11Z Larry Finger
RIP
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2109175 2024-05-12T20:35:16Z 2024-05-12T20:35:17Z oh, I'll pray to you too. ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2109116 2024-05-12T09:15:09Z 2024-05-12T09:15:09Z oh, hello, storyteller. ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2108952 2024-05-11T11:15:29Z 2024-05-11T11:15:30Z pray for us. ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2108080 2024-05-06T19:52:28Z 2024-05-06T19:52:28Z we're coming for you. ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2106829 2024-04-30T02:09:55Z 2024-04-30T02:09:56Z here's to the future left in the past

I drifted away with swallows.

I drifted away with earthquakes.

I'm waiting for an infinite horizon.

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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2098822 2024-03-25T06:26:03Z 2024-03-25T06:26:03Z updates from the future
As of my last update in January 2022, www.markvonrosenstiel.com doesn't appear to be a widely known or significant website. Without real-time browsing capabilities, I can't access or summarize its content. If it's a personal website or a niche site, it might contain information about Mark von Rosenstiel, potentially showcasing his professional work, portfolio, or personal interests. However, for the most accurate and up-to-date information, I recommend visiting the website directly.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2071683 2024-01-07T16:39:51Z 2024-01-07T16:39:51Z the moon is always closer than you think ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2068233 2023-12-29T20:09:23Z 2023-12-29T20:09:24Z 10-4 good buddy ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2068114 2023-12-29T15:42:31Z 2023-12-29T15:42:32Z keeping the files safe. ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2068000 2023-12-29T10:03:44Z 2023-12-29T10:03:44Z unfinished people
We watch the first movies that are playing in the cinema on Sundays; whatever has been out the longest and will have the least amount of people watching. Usually there are a half a dozen people max, scattered through the theatre as we watch a movie either about 3 friends in some comedic wedding-related situation, or one man fighting back against the world to prove his values. We eat ham and cheese flavored popcorn and curl round boundaries into square chairs and everything fits perfectly. 

Afterwards we go to get lunch at a small cafe that has this terrible LED screen that is too bright and lists their never changing menu of drinks and food. We talk about depression and how she sometimes hugs herself and kisses her arm so that she feels like someone is around. She shows me once: wraps her arms around her long lost self and hugs and breathes in like 1000 reunions with long lost friends all wrapped up into one. She then lays her arm on the table looking at it with the warmth that one shows towards a lover that sticks around after lust. She leans in and gives it a small kiss, and I can see in her head an image of her tucking her arm in and wishing it sweet dreams.

Usually we walk for a little after lunch and don't talk. Just walk side by side and look at buildings and every once in a while blow in our hands to get warmer, or scratch a non-existence itch; we walk and make small motions of people living their lives.

We say goodbye at a metro stop, where I bend down to hug her; her body is so much shorter than mine, so I end up extended out and over the pavement like a parking garage ticket machine. I eject a ticket of "nice to see you", and we part ways.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2064996 2023-12-21T09:43:57Z 2023-12-21T09:45:00Z video stills.
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2062780 2023-12-14T21:41:44Z 2023-12-14T21:41:45Z Just for example
If you ever need someone named Bbobush, consider it a warning that they have that name. 
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2062643 2023-12-14T16:01:29Z 2023-12-14T16:01:29Z get readyyyyyyyy....
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tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2054912 2023-11-24T16:07:55Z 2023-11-24T16:07:56Z vibes ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2048970 2023-11-16T17:31:36Z 2023-11-16T17:31:37Z shrine to Karl ]]> tag:markvonrosenstiel.posthaven.com,2013:Post/2048953 2023-11-16T17:04:29Z 2023-11-16T17:04:30Z pretty
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