30 April 2014
"I must have flowers, always, and always."
--Claude Monet
--Claude Monet
29 April 2014
Prodigal Electrons Return to Shine
“Tonight she walks
up to the particular
porcelain lion she had
when she was a girl
for a now forgotten
reason chosen, puts
her hand on his nose
and says tenderly
in her mind I’m sorry
I can’t remember
the name I gave you.”
up to the particular
porcelain lion she had
when she was a girl
for a now forgotten
reason chosen, puts
her hand on his nose
and says tenderly
in her mind I’m sorry
I can’t remember
the name I gave you.”
28 April 2014
Feel things
The first person who saw your face was delighted by you. Isn’t that something? You managed to bring joy only by breathing.
Your mother will occasionally peek through the cracks of your door when you are sleeping, even now, to make sure that she can see the movements of your chest.
The boy who kissed you in the park last night isn’t in love with you, he won’t even stay, but he meant every second of those minutes.
You’ll walk a city street that your feet have never touched before and you’ll be terrified of getting lost and that feeling is what’ll help you find the way home.
You’ll give your money to a homeless man and he will hold your hand firmly between his and he will say ‘thank you so, so much’ and isn’t that something?
There’s a piece of music that makes your heart feel like it’s bleeding. Listen to it. Listen to it again.
When was the last time you paused to stare at night time?
Did you know that there is at least one person in your life who will jump in front of a hail of bullets for you, without your asking.
Your entire body is made of nerves. Feel things.
Take walks in places you’ve never been.
Take photographs of people not everyone considers beautiful. Find loveliness in them.
Let go of the things that are killing you from the inside out.
One day you’re going to be part of the sky, you’re going to be that beautiful and that necessary but not today. Not today.
27 April 2014
26 April 2014
Saturday Poem
Peripheral
Maybe it’s a bat’s wings
at the corner of your eye, right
where the eyeball swivels
into its pocket. But when
the brown of your eye turns
where you thought the white saw,
there’s only air & gold light,
reality—as your mother defined it—
(milk/no milk). Not for years
did you learn the word longing,
and only then did you see the bat—
just the fringe of its wings
beating, its back in a heavy
black cloak.
—Toi Derricotte.
Maybe it’s a bat’s wings
at the corner of your eye, right
where the eyeball swivels
into its pocket. But when
the brown of your eye turns
where you thought the white saw,
there’s only air & gold light,
reality—as your mother defined it—
(milk/no milk). Not for years
did you learn the word longing,
and only then did you see the bat—
just the fringe of its wings
beating, its back in a heavy
black cloak.
—Toi Derricotte.
25 April 2014
Rothko
"I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions — tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on — and the fact that lots of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures shows that I communicate those basic human emotions… The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point!”
--Mark Rothko
(Quote found here Conversations with Artists (public library) via Brain Pickings)
23 April 2014
22 April 2014
"Making things is so human that psychology and philosophy have gotten nowhere in trying to account for it."
20 April 2014
19 April 2014
17 April 2014
six
"When Keira turned six last month, her aunty and uncle gave her a small disposable camera and a blank album, with a card suggesting she could document her life at six."
(From here)
16 April 2014
“A lone peak of high point is a natural focal point in the landscape,
something by which both travelers and local orient themselves. In the
continuum of landscape, mountains are discontinuity -- culminating in
high points, natural barriers, unearthly earth.”
― Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking
― Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking
15 April 2014
14 April 2014
“The telling and hearing of stories is a bonding ritual that breaks
through illusions of separateness and activates a deep sense of our
collective interdependence.”
― Annette Simmons
― Annette Simmons
13 April 2014
12 April 2014
Saturday Poem
The fuel for this ravisher unicycle of a world,
Going faster and faster, ever more horsepower,
Is not the president of the United States anymore.
The man on the roof of the car waves his arms.
The butterfly in love lands on fresh tar, tacky goo.
I’m turning into something I wasn’t intending to be—
In agony after the awful metamorphosis
Into a suddenly human being.
—Frederick Seidel, from “Autumn Leaves”
Going faster and faster, ever more horsepower,
Is not the president of the United States anymore.
The man on the roof of the car waves his arms.
The butterfly in love lands on fresh tar, tacky goo.
I’m turning into something I wasn’t intending to be—
In agony after the awful metamorphosis
Into a suddenly human being.
—Frederick Seidel, from “Autumn Leaves”
11 April 2014
“Sometimes you find that what is most personal is also what connects you most strongly with others.”
— Grace Paley10 April 2014
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