- Lingering at the threshold between word and image.
- A glutinous dollop of brown paint, a delicate disc of wispy white paint, and a shiny coin-shaped form in graphite pencil.
- A persistent compulsion is invoked into the viewer.
- Writing comes in waves, rolling funnels of cursive script, gestural inclinations of the hand's becoming.
- If a thing loves, it is infinite.
- Say it with flowers, or Babylon's gardens.
-
archeological labor of love.
- Oscar Wilde - "To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance"
- Narcissus was made to stare forever at his own image, reflected in a pool of water.
- A slow smile of gratification flashed into the air
- As ordinary as air and light.
- Championing the irrational, the poetic, and the revolutionary.
- ...On this marigold-colored velvet chair.
- I feel the thick, almost oppressive weight of lipgloss on my mouth.
- A beckoning happiness, a happiness that seduces
- Happiness is something that requires risks.
- Even being happy is hard.
- Chairs evocatively suggesting giant pumpkins.
- I am the first and the last. I am the honored one and the scorned one. I am the holy one and the whore. I am the wife and the virgin. I am the utterance of my name.
- What's past is prologue.
- ...Her flowers to bloom in a distant frontier.
- I can still see their faces, smell the oil in the wicker lamps.
- That little house on the waterfront.
- When you leave this island, you ain't going to a land of milk and honey.
- Nothing good can come from knowing!
- The Earth, O Lord, is swelling with fruitage, this is the seed time of life.
- I thought of you a lot and never forgot your wonderful hands and the black of your eyes.
- There is cellular arrangement. There is movement. There is light.
- Not counting on idiotic destiny.
- I am a poor little deer.
- The art of Frida Kahlo is a ribbon around a bomb.
- The age demanded that we dance and jammed us into iron pants.
- They're all virtuous and sterile. And how well-meaning and high-minded.
- Grace under pressure.
- We were all bitches from the start.
- A delicatessen, a house which abounds in foreign dainties of all sorts. Towering sandwiches, tureens of soup, platters of cake, glistening pastrami, invigoratingly vinegared salads.
- An ultra-blonde, very Versace.
- And then, opening her eyes, how fresh like frilled linen clean from laundry laid in wicker trays the roses looked.
- Missing the sea, smiling at sheep...
- ... a full ripe scent of plum that fades in and out of recognition.
- I dream of other worlds as the rain falls insistently on this one.
- The farmers' markets are abloom with color; peaches, plums, zucchini... burgers, bratwurst, sweet corn, and grilled Vidalia onions.
- ... of the golden barge with purple sails and incense cedar decks. Sixty oarsmen bending dipped their indigo lacquered blades into the deepest cerulean Mediterranean sea.
- We would live and prosper by each other.
- Rice, coconuts, and betel chewing.
- I was five; old people pinched my cheeks and said that my eyes were as brown s gingerbread cookies.
- Bjork - "After tragedies one has to invent a new world, knit it or embroider, make it up... You have to imagine something that doesn't exist and dig a cave into the future and demade space."
- Fingers have a memory. The body has a memory : the children we make, places we've hurt ourselves.
- Remember our walks, horizons like lips.
- Where does lost hair go in this world, lost eyesight, teeth?
- It's March, even the birds don't know what to do with themselves.
- In Constantinople, oils were used to perfume chandeliers. For worship, scent mattered.
- Steamed mushrooms in banana leaves. Scallop risotto.
- A tablecloth, a scattering of cards.
- A refreshing mask of mud from Antarctica
jun 28 2019 ∞
jul 23 2019 +
jul 23 2019 +