away; take care, all

And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. -W.B. Yeats

'But I am not deluded. After all these callings hither and thither, I shall fall alone through this thin sheet into gulfs of fire. And you will not help me. More cruel than the old torturers, you will let me fall, and will tear me to pieces when I am fallen.' -Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Enough is the quietest revolution I’ve ever started.

'She silenced again looking inside herself. She remembered: I am the light wave that has no other field but the sea, I thrash about, slide, fly, laughing, giving, sleeping, but woe is me, always in me, always in me.' Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

fleurs de l'ombre

Han Kang - North-Facing Room (from Light and Thread)

Hélène Bessette on sorrow - from Lili is Crying

'Landscape with Hidden Moon' by Scottish artist Victoria Crowe #WomensArt

art is the proof that reality belongs to each of us. that we all see and feel and love and hurt in very different ways... and that it's good to love each other in whatever ways we're able, even when (especially when) there's no hope of love being returned in the form we seek.

I have often felt invisible, like a ghost moving through a world that does not notice. - Franz Kafka #Invisible #Dragonfly #EastCoastKin

under the bridge spring light melts away

the silence of glittering stars evening rain ~Uko

And it’s inside myself that I must create someone who will understand. ~Clarice Lispector [flower with waiting angels]

rose leaves spell of light shadows writing on the wall

and yet what we truly are is whatever the impossible creates inside us. ~Clarice Lispector, The Apple in the Dark

'My craving is my fuel, a journey in another life. My love is not made for happiness, but for longing. I am worth nothing to her.' -Olga Ravn, The Wax Child

I always had the deepest affection for people who carried sublime tears in their silences. ~Virginia Woolf (diary) [The Cliff to the North by Paul Nash (1912)]

You write poems because you need a place where what isn’t may be ~Alejandra Pizarnik

Lady of silences Calm and distressed Torn and most whole Rose of memory Rose of forgetfulness Exhausted and life-giving Worried reposeful The single Rose Is now in the Garden Where all loves end ~T.S. Eliot

Francesca Woodman • On Being an Angel, 1977

Orchard in Bloom, 
Claude Monet 1879

end of ends begin again

"I am writing with my burnt hand about the nature of fire." Ingeborg Bachmann ---

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent. ~Ludwig Wittgenstein

You who never arrived -Rainer Maria Rilke (tr. Stephen Mitchell)

and in the end just waves, and clouds, and light

penultimate station undone by your light