Untitled

I know the truth…

abandon lesser truths! There’s no need for anyone living to struggle! See? Evening falls … night quickly descends! So why the useless disputes, generals, poets, lovers?

The wind is calming now; the earth is bathed in dew; the stars’ infernos will soon freeze in the heavens. And soon we’ll sleep together, under the earth, we who never gave each other a moment’s rest above it. ~Marina Tsvetaeva

The beauty of the world…

has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.  ― Virginia Woolf

@aganinaga - Thank you my very dear friend Ana for providing the photo of the bird and clouds that was the primary layer of this image.

———————————————————————————————————

Places I love come back to me…

like music, Hush me and heal me when I I’m very tired… ~Sara Teasdale, from Places

When I think you’ve passed me over…

Once again you rise and haunt me, Overpowering black shadow Prowling round my bed to taunt me.

When again I dream you’ve vanished, In the bare sun you astound me. You’re the shine of stars above me. You’re the howl of wind around me.

If they sing, it is you singing. If they mourn, it is you mourning. You’re the murmur of the river And the evening and the morning.

You are all and all becomes you, All about me, leaving never, Living in me, living for me, Shadow over me forever.         ~ Rosalía de Castro, Black Shadow [Negra Sombra]

@aganinaga - Thank you Ana for directing me to this beautiful poem.

The original Galician text can be found here:

Let us look for secret things…

somewhere in the world, on the blue shore of silence or where the storm has passed, rampaging like a train. There the faint signs are left, coins of time and water, debris, celestial ash and the irreplaceable rapture of sharing in the labour of solitude and the sand. ~Pablo Neruda, from Forget About Me

Serendipia…Movement….

Bill Henson: “Untitled 12″.

http://www.artnet.com/artists/bill-henson/

Though my soul may set in darkness…

Now that I know…

How passion warms little Of flesh in the mould, And treasure is brittle,—

I’ll lie here and learn How, over their ground Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

~Louise Bogan, Knowledge

The silence of night hours..

is never really silent. You hear the air, even when it doesn’t stir. It’s a memory of the day. Nothing stirs. Memory lags….

~W.S. Di Piero , from It’s That Time

@aganinaga - Thank you again my friend Ana for providing several photos used as layers in the creation of this image.

Nude, 1964