“The secret of it all, is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment – to put things down without deliberation – without worrying about their style – without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I took the first scrap of paper, the first doorstep, the first desk, and wrote – wrote, wrote…By writing at the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught.”
—Walt Whitman
December 2010
“Poetry is the kind of speech which cannot be translated except at the cost of serious distortions; whereas the mythical value of the myth is preserved even through the worst translation.”
—Lacan
It’s snowing gently, woodsy music is playing in the background, and thoughts of Christmas (really, only the best excuse to take time to remember God and how he’s all of my happiness) are glowing embers in my chest.
I have a naked juice on the window ledge next to me and I have just made a list of everything to accomplish before the semester is done. And I actually feel like I can do it.
My group for Intro to Film got together today to film a unique scene (the subway scene) from Amelie in the style of Charlie Chaplin. I will always remember the stillness of the stairways, the perpendicular lines, the echoing of blacks and whites in the wide-open spaces. And the hat resting on my pretty new hair. And the silence.
My life feels organized for once in a long while. And, for the first time in a long time, I feel beautiful.
November 2010
“How foolish is the pride of dress! Your habiliments, however splendid, are outshone by the garments with which God clothes the frail flower, which springs up in the morning and is withered by noon.”
—David Thomas
God is beautiful.
I wish it wasn’t so hard for me to tell people how I feel!!
Hazy
William Fitzsimmons Ft. Rosi Golan
abreathofwater:bombinabirdcage:heisjealousforme
Hazy l Rosi Golan Featuring William Fitzsimmons
(via swiftlyarriving)
“
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
“There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in this lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.”
—Moby Dick
Can I hit it ? In the morning ? ;)
EVERY MORNIN GIRRRRRRRLLL ! ! !!!
Roslyn
Bon Iver & St. Vincent
Bon Iver & St. Vincent / Rosyln
“I tell you, the more I think, the more I feel there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
—Vincent van Gogh (via carouselinparis)
