Just What I Always Wanted

[thegetty]

As easy as 1, 2, 3!

The Eiffel Tower was completed on this day in 1889, and photographs documenting the process live on in albumen silver prints. 

[cmacsea]

#paris #architectural beauty

[darksilenceinsuburbia]

Rachel Ignotofsky: Women in Science series

Website Tumblr

[theparisreview]

“That’s something poetry can do for you, it can entrance you for a moment above the pool of your own consciousness and your own possibilities.”

—Seamus Heaney, The Art of Poetry No. 75, interviewed by Henri Cole in “The Paris Review” no. 144 (Fall 1997)

[valscrapbook]

[matterless-deactivated20150422]

Photo Break - Hummingbird, by xtremepeaks

[nprfreshair]

Recording now: Kim Gordon, one of the founding members of Sonic Youth. They’re talking about her new memoir, Girl in a Band.  

[cmacsea]

"Haven’t you always wanted to work on a movie?" she asked. An archive, a record, a note for the ages? "Take that down" I say.

[msnbc]

Lennie and Pearl have been together for almost half a century. They were finally able to marry in their home state of North Carolina last fall.

This is Lennie Gerber and Pearl Berlin’s love story: http://on.msnbc.com/1yaCmyz

[ofelieae-deactivated20150909]

There is hope in the world when young people quote Sylvia Plath in their graffiti.

[cmacsea]

An excerpt: "Two Views of the Cadaver Room"

Poem by Sylvia Plath from "The Colossus" 1 The day she visited the dissecting room They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey, Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume Of the death vats clung to them; The white-smocked boys started working. The head of his cadaver had caved in, And she could scarcely make out anything In that rubble of skull plates and old leather. A sallow piece of string held it together. In their jars the snail-nosed babies moon and glow. He hands her the cut-out heart like a cracked heir- loom.

[cmacsea]

South. Bashed senseless by life and loss. For all the loves of my life who are gone.

[nerdly]

[cmacsea]

Four years gone today. Yvonne Baker. Beauty and light. Love.

Picking Blueberries, Austerlitz, New York,1957

A poem by Mary Oliver

Once, in summer in the blueberries,  I fell asleep, and woke when a deer stumbled against me.

I guess she was so busy with her own happiness she had grown careless and was just wandering along

listening to the wind as she leaned down to lip up the sweetness. So, there we were

with nothing between us but a few leaves, and wind’s glossy voice shouting instructions.

The deer backed away finally and flung up her white tail and went floating off toward the trees -

but the moment she did that was so wide and so deep it has lasted to this day;  I have only to think of her - 

the flower of her amazement and the stalled breath of her curiosity, and even the damp touch of her solicitude before she took flight -

to be absent again from this world and alive, again, in another for thirty years sleepy and amazed, 

rising out of the rough weeds listening and looking. Beautiful girl,  where are you? 

[cmacsea]

Rodin, The Burghers of Calais. Always speechless. Always. From the Met. Their photo; not mine. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1989.407

[conflictingheart]

[cmacsea]

A mad reverie; the brown study. This sorry business.

[cmacsea]

And I feel like I gotta be above it now.

[cmacsea]

And P.S. It's all public. And it ain't easy.