Moon by Mandrágora
DEAR READER

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

oozey mess
wallacepolsom
Sade Olutola
h
One Nice Bug Per Day
Today's Document

JVL
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
d e v o n
Three Goblin Art

titsay
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

Jules of Nature

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@undinesea
Moon by Mandrágora

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“That perhaps is your task–to find the relation between things that seem incompatible yet have a mysterious affinity, to absorb every experience that comes your way fearlessly and saturate it completely so that your poem is a whole, not a fragment; to re-think human life into poetry and so give us tragedy again and comedy by means of characters not spun out at length in the novelist’s way, but condensed and synthesized in the poet’s way.”
— Virginia Woolf
Kenro Izu, Still Life 400, From the Series Still Life, 1993
eremitism
The act of gradually fading from the lives of others, not out of malice but a desire for solitude or renewal.
I write to you to tell you that you don’t stop being present, close by, that you accompany me everywhere I go...
Paul Celan, in a letter to Gisele Celan-Lestrange, from Paul Celan: Selections

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Photo by Takaaki Inukai
I gather the waters of recollection, where memory dreams as a consecrated breath beneath the skin of time, and there I recline inside the echo of my own absence.
“The art historians make the differentiation between Romantic and Classic, but that has little sense before the nineteenth century […] No, the difference is between those who believe that life is essentially tragic and those who do not. I do not. The individual is tragic. But the individual can also question this tragedy and so become heroic: heroism consists of understanding that the achievement can be greater than the individual achiever.”
— John Berger, A Painter of Our Time: A Novel
Between worlds

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All my chalices are waiting, open for your autumn hosts and auroral wines.
César Vallejo, “Love,” The Black Heralds, translated by Rebecca Seiferle
Confession
“…and yet what we truly are is whatever the impossible creates inside us.”
Lispector, The Apple in the Dark
We look at each other, we exchange darknesses, we love like opium and memory, we sleep like wine in mussel-shells, like the sea in the blood-ray of the moon.
Paul Celan, "Corona," Translated from German by Paul Weinfield
I've searched for your wounded eyes among the stars—
Jibanananda Das, “The Sprite Woman,” from English Translations of Three Poems by Jibanananda Das

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DAREDEVIL — 2.05 “Kinbaku”
Saint Laurent | cami top in silk crepe muslin + lace