Earthcoat

“At times I feel as if I am spread out over the landscape and inside things, and am myself living in every tree, in the splashing of the waves, in the clouds and the animals that come and go, in the procession of the seasons.”
Carl Jung

‘Earthcoat_ by Robert and Shana Parke Harrison
‘Earthcoat’ by Robert and Shana Parke Harrison
Advertisements

They find countless mysterious ways

They find countless mysterious ways

Ambrogio Alciati, 1914

“Separated lovers cheat absence by a thousand fancies which have their own reality.

They are prevented from seeing one another and they cannot write;

nevertheless they find countless mysterious ways of corresponding,

by sending each other the song of birds,

Frances MacDonald MacNair 1893

the scent of flowers,

the laughter of children,

the light of the sun,

the sighing of the wind,

Frederick Walker, 1871

and the gleam of the stars – all the beauties of creation.”

Edward Okun
Edward Okun (1872 – 1945) self-portrait with Butterfly

– Victor Hugo

The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower

The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

– Dylan Thomas, 1952

image: Ceri Richards (UK, Wales 1903-1971) 

‘The force that through the green fuse drives the flower ’(trial proof) 1965

dylan thomas

‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Susan Richardson

 

‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Susan Richardson

 

Let my verbs be studded with Glow Worms.

Let Painted Ladies flit from each vowel I sound.

Let my prose be overwritten with Purple Frogs.

Let Baboons moon at my proper nouns.

Let Flamingoes paddle in the shallows of my gossip.

Let Clownfish swim in memories’ depths.

Let Satin Bower Birds use my blue language to decorate their nests.

Let Bonobos get personal with my pronouns.

Let Impalas graze the great plain of my tongue.

Whenever I sing, from the roof of my mouth let Orange Fruit Bats hang.

And at night, as darkness peaks, let a Two-toed Sloth creep upside-down through my mumbling canopy of sleep.

 

Let Wildebeest migrate with my yelling.

Let my softer speech be beached with Natterjack Toads.

Let Pygmy Hippos tinge my whispers.

Let my winter breath make Baiji-wraithes and Dodo-Wraithes

– Susan Richardson

 

Source: ‘Let my words be bright with animals’ – Plumwood Mountain

 

 

Alone – with each other

“Think of this — that the writer wrote alone, and the reader read alone, and that they were alone with each other “

– A. S. Byatt

 

31b74807edd8c2a44a9c5ef4199deb19--reading-nooks-window-seats

 

Woman Reading by Gertrude Käsebier (May 18, 1852 – October 12, 1934)
Woman Reading by Gertrude Käsebier (May 18, 1852 – October 12, 1934)

 

59680_8

 

Leonard Freed - ISRAEL.  1967
Leonard Freed – Jerusalem 1967

 

man writing a letter

 

Simone de Beauvoir at les Deux Magots Paris 1944 Robert Doisneau
Simone de Beauvoir at les Deux Magots Paris 1944 by Robert Doisneau

 

tumblr_l8tu9jjhf51qcwe9uo1_500

 

woman-writing-in-cafe_21

 

Paula-Sunlight-shadows-Berlin-1889-Alfred-Stieglitz-COP
Paula – Sunlight and shadows, Berlin 1889 by Alfred Stieglitz

 

tumblr_lc6utwh87G1qz8bxwo1_1280

To whom shall I speak today?

To whom shall I speak today?

People willingly accept evil and goodness is cast to the ground everywhere.

Those who should enrage people by their wrongdoing

make them laugh at their evil deeds.

People plunder and everyone seizes his or her neighbour’s goods.

To whom shall I speak today?

The one doing wrong is an intimate friend and the brother with whom one used to deal is an enemy.

No one remembers the past and none return the good deed that is done.

Brothers and sisters are evil

and people turn to strangers for righteousness or affection.

To whom shall I speak today?

Faces are empty and all turn their faces from their brothers and sisters.

 Hearts are great with greed

and there is no heart of a man or woman upon which one might lean.

None are just or righteous and the land is left to the doers of evil.

To whom shall I speak today?

There are no intimate friends

and the people turn to strangers to tell their troubles.

None are content and those with whom one used to walk no longer exist.

I am burdened with grief and have no one to comfort me.

There is no end to the wrong which roams the earth. 

Papyrus 3024 from the Berlin Museum, referred to as “Man in conversation with his Ba (Soul)” dating from XII Dynasty Egypt (approx 1991-1783 bc)

Photo: Dr Feri Angerer 1908 Thames Embankment
Photo: Dr. Feri Angerer Thames Embankment 1908

“A Stranger, who can know what this word means.”

What does this sudden awakening mean, in this dark room, with the sounds of a city that has suddenly become strange? And everything is strange to me, everything, without a single person who belongs to me, with no place to heal this wound. What am I doing here, what is the point of these smiles and gestures? I am not from here—not from anywhere else either. And the world has become merely an unknown landscape where my heart can lean on nothing.

albert_camus2
Albert Camus

From: Paris from Camus’s Notebooks

By Alice Kaplan 

Our life’s potential reveals itself in glimpses

The story of our life does already exist in potential, and is pushing to come into being, through we only get glimpses of it bit by bit.

J. Gary Sparks

agostino
Agostino Arrivabene.

Do as Does the Sculptor of a Statue

Alfred Kubin – The Guardian

Plotinus:

‘Withdraw into yourself and look; and if you do not find yourself beautiful as yet, do as does the sculptor of a statue … cut away all that is excessive, straighten all that is crooked, bring light to all that is shadowed … do not cease until there shall shine out on you the Godlike Splendour of Beauty; until you see temperance surely established in the stainless shrine.

Artwork: Alfred Kubin (1877 – 1959)

Nature begins to whisper

All of nature begins to whisper its secrets to us through its sounds. Sounds that were previously incomprehensible to our soul now become the meaningful language of nature.

~ Rudolf Steiner

naturescalling