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The Stonewall Inn
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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Natalia Motuzko - The Voice of Grass (1992)
one time a being of pure light & truth appeard to me and started saying some bullshit but i ignored it
Dust by Dorianne Laux
Someone spoke to me last night, told me the truth. Just a few words, but I recognized it. I knew I should make myself get up, write it down, but it was late, and I was exhausted from working all day in the garden, moving rocks. Now, I remember only the flavor — not like food, sweet or sharp. More like a fine powder, like dust. And I wasn’t elated or frightened, but simply rapt, aware. That’s how it is sometimes — God comes to your window, all bright light and black wings, and you’re just too tired to open it.
The photographs offered here show three of the multiple leaps artist Yves Klein made from the ledge of a building during the creation of his 1960 signature image "Saut dans le Vide (Leap into the Void)." These photographs document the remarkable physical exertions required of Klein to achieve the perfect airborne image, as well as the determination of photographers Harry Shunk and János Kender to capture it on film. As of this writing it is believed that none of these images have appeared at auction previously. To create "Leap," Shunk and Kender took a series of photographs of the quiet Rue Gentile Bernard in the Parisian suburb of Fontenay-aux-Roses. They then photographed Klein jumping from the roof multiple times, landing safely in a tarp held by nine friends on the street below. (via)

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Mt. St. Helens. May 18, 1980.
on living
Dust by Dorianne Laux
Gilles Deleuze.
—Vincent van Gogh, in a letter to Theo, his brother (The Hague, 2 September 1883)

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Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life
“My brother used to ask the birds to forgive him; that sounds senseless, but it is right; for all is like an ocean, all things flow and touch each other; a disturbance in one place is felt at the other end of the world…”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov.
“I want you to do this with me for one month. One month. Write 10 observations a week and by the end of four weeks, you will have an answer. Because when someone writes about the rustic gutter and the water pouring through it onto the muddy grass, the real pours into the room. And it’s thrilling. We’re all enlivened by it. We don’t have to find more than the rustic gutter and the muddy grass and the pouring cold water.”
— Marie Howe, Boston University’s 2016 Theopoetics Conference (via mothersofmyheart)
Marie Howe:
I ask my students every week to write 10 observations of the actual world. It’s very hard for them.
Ms. Tippett:
Really?
Ms. Howe:
They really find it hard.
Ms. Tippett:
What do you mean? What is the assignment? 10 observations of their actual world?
Ms. Howe:
Just tell me what you saw this morning like in two lines. I saw a water glass on a brown tablecloth, and the light came through it in three places. No metaphor. And to resist metaphor is very difficult because you have to actually endure the thing itself, which hurts us for some reason.
Ms. Tippett:
It does.
Ms. Howe:
It hurts us.
Ms. Tippett:
You naming something.
Ms. Howe:
We want to say, “It was like this; it was like that.” We want to look away. And to be with a glass of water or to be with anything — and then they say, “Well, there’s nothing important enough.” And that’s whole thing. It’s the point.
Ms. Howe:
It’s the this, right?
Ms. Howe:
Right, the this, whatever. And then they say, “Oh, I saw a lot of people who really want” — and, “No, no, no. No abstractions, no interpretations.” But then this amazing thing happens, Krista. The fourth week or so, they come in and clinkety, clank, clank, clank, onto the table pours all this stuff. And it so thrilling. I mean, it is thrilling. Everybody can feel it. Everyone is just like, “Wow.” The slice of apple, and then that gleam of the knife, and the sound of the trashcan closing, and the maple tree outside, and the blue jay. I mean, it almost comes clanking into the room. And it’s just amazing.
Ms. Tippett:
In some basic level, what they’ve done is just engage with their senses.
Ms. Howe:
Yeah, and have been present out of their minds and just noticing what’s around them, which is — we don’t do. And again, not to compare it to anything. They’re not allowed. And that’s very hard for them. And then on the fifth or sixth week, I say, “OK, use metaphors.” And they don’t want to. They don’t know how. They’re like, “Why would I? Why would I compare that to anything when it’s itself?” Exactly. Good question.
So then you think, why the necessity of a metaphor? Why do you have to use a metaphor now? Not just to do it to avoid it, but to do it to make it more there. And it’s very interesting.
The words and silences we live by. The rituals that sustain us. The poetry of ordinary time.

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“Contemplation is about learning to see, learning to behold the deepest, most encompassing reality. This is a type of seeing that takes the world seriously on its own terms. You’re not trying to tell a symbolic or metaphorical story about the tree or the river or the sky. You’re allowing it to be what it is, without imposing on it, and you’re acknowledging that it has incalculable value and beauty and power. That’s the object of your contemplation. […] Contemplation is slowing down, getting quiet, allowing what you’re gazing upon to enter you, to shape you. It’s awareness of who we are in relation to the all, the whole, the immensity.”
Douglas Christie, The Desert Within
Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth