John Michael Carter (American b,1950), Summer Reading, 1986, Oil on linen
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John Michael Carter (American b,1950), Summer Reading, 1986, Oil on linen

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Mary Oliver, from โGreen, Green is My Sister's Houseโ, A Thousand Mornings
Andrea Gibson,ย Lord of the Butterflies
Waiting - Marya Hornbachar
little weirds - jenny slate

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Anaรฏs Nin, from a diary entry featured in The Diary of Anaรฏs Nin Volume 1 1931-1934
Rise and collapse of a wave. Details of paintings by Michael Zeno Diemer (1867-1939)
george clausen / edward potthast / nicholas hely hutchinson / victoria vitalyevna samsonova / jeremy miranda / suzanne siegel
May Sarton, from Journal of a Solitude [ID in alt text]
โThe Visit at Moonlightโ byย Edmund Thomas Parris, 1832

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โฆLet's drink to afternoon, the best of all times. Cruel morning is past, fearful, unpredictable, lonely night is yet to come. Here's to heartrending afternoonโฆ
โ Jean Rhys, from โTill September Petronella,โ The Collected Short Stories (Norton, 1987)
May Sarton, from Recovering: A Journal
Mary Oliver, from "Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?", Devotions
the miracle of being here
invitation, mary oliver// @arthoesunshine // when death comes, mary oliver//to be alive, gregory ott// the dead poets society(1989), quote: walden, henry david thoreau// joseph campbell// the aeneid, virgil// @babyangel-jpg // @rawjoy //sweet, charles bukowski// that it will never come again, emily dickinson// bjenny montero// ? // ? // moments, mary oliver// madness a bipolar life, marya hornbacher// wild geese, mary oliver// letters to a young poet, rainer maria rilke// on earth we're briefly gorgeous, ocean voung// @ashstfu // i thought on his desire for three days, linda gregg
Things, I know, stiffen and shift in memory, become what they never were before. As when an army takes over a country. Or a summer yard goes scarlet with fall and its venous leaves. One summons the years of the past largely by witchcraftโa whore's arts, collage and brew, eye of newt, heart of horse. Still, the house of my childhood is etched in my memory like the shape of the mind itself: a house-shaped mindโwhy not? It was this particular mind out of which I venturedโfor any wild danger or sentimental stance or lunge at something faraway. But it housed every seedling act. I floated above it, but close, like a figure in a Chagall.
โ Lorrie Moore, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital?

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___a._rose__
MOOD
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โPlants and animals donโt fight the winter; they donโt pretend itโs not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but thatโs where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.โ
โ Katherine May, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times