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Embroidered by Ana Teresa Barboza, Every Single Night by Fiona Apple

from “why i am a materialist” by the deeply influential and brilliant biologist jbs haldane, the man who gave us the word “clone”

source

Sue Zhao

A young boy wearing a large helmet shaped mask in Abiriba, in the eastern Igbo area, Nigeria. G. I. Jones, 1930s.

spicyday

✧ transparent heart shaped jewelry inspired by @horreurclub

mesogeios

“The truth is, a writer’s voice is made from other writers’ voices. Pieced together, picked and chosen, stumbled into, uninformed: influence seems like an involuntary series of contagions that eventually turns into a sort of vessel, or transportation system. As we acquire a sense of taste, and perhaps a sense of vocation, our reading becomes more directed and targeted, but we are bent and shaped and destined to be changed by the genius of others. Compare it to the theory behind cannibalism, if you like. One eats the heart of the admired one and becomes them. The remarkable news is that this pastiche of voices results in the incarnation of a new poet, a new hybrid distillation of voice, capable of telling the story of experience in new, valuable ways. […] Each strong new writer is a deep student of what he or she has read and an amalgam of preexisting sentences and styles that have never been combined like that before. The idea that writerly originality appears from nowhere, or exists as something in isolation, a thing to be guarded and protected from influence, is lunacy. Anyone who doesn’t school themselves by deep, wide, and idiosyncratic reading is choosing aesthetic poverty.”

— Tony Hoagland, from The Art of Voice: Poetic Principles and Practice (W.W. Norton & Co., 2019)

mesogeios

“The Welsh language has a unique character which reminds me of the country’s landscapes and history. For example, the Welsh version of describing something as “music to my ears” is “mêl ar fy mysedd,” or “honey on my fingers”. To me that’s so much more poetic and sensual than the English idiom, and it reminds me of Wales’ history of poetry and song, and the fact that living in Wales – with its huge mountains, long beaches and 365-day rain cycle – is often a very sensory experience. There is something ancient about that phrase: when I say it I can almost feel how old the Welsh language is. Perhaps the fact that languages are embodied with so much culture and history is why it feels so poignant to forget them, and so painful.”

— Ellie Mae O'Hagan, Losing my Welsh: what it feels like to forget a language (via mothersofmyheart)

mesogeios

“The best translations into English do not, in fact, read as if they were originally written in English. The English words are arranged in such a way that the reader sees a glimpse of another culture’s patterns of thinking, hears an echo of another language’s rhythms and cadences, and feels a tremor of another people’s gestures and movements.”

— Ken Liu, Translator’s Postface to The Three Body Problem (via as-if-falling)

thechartreusedragon

Twenty-three Journaling Prompts for Self Discovery

Recently been trying to be a bit more intentional whenever I do morning pages or journal. I love stream-of-consciousness writing, but sometimes I feel aimless going around and around with the same negative thought patterns.

What do I need right now?

What is my body asking for? What is my mind asking for?

What do I need to feel nurtured?

Am I engaging in any self-destructive patterns?

Write a letter to someone you miss.

Write a letter to someone you want to talk to (because of any reason — anger, hurt, love, want, jealousy … )

What is not serving you today?

What do you want to remember about today/yesterday/this week/this month, etc.?

What am I avoiding?

What did I learn today/yesterday…?

What are you looking forward to today?

Why am I feeling ___ right now?