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good morning, winter solstice.

But whatever extends the day loses us the dark.

#jeanette winterson #winter solstice #stonehenge #coffee

I need in the dream to discuss this with John.

Or was it even a dream?

Who is the director of dreams, would he care?

Was it only by dreaming or writing that I could find out what I thought?

#joan didion #The Year Of Magical Thinking #california

Dear Robert,

Often as I lie awake I wonder if you are also lying awake. Are you in pain or feeling alone? You drew me from the darkest period of my young life, sharing with me the sacred mystery of what it is to be an artist. I learned to see through you and never compose a line or draw a curve that does not come from the knowledge I derived in our precious time together. Your work, coming from a fluid source, can be traced to the naked song of your youth. You spoke then of holding hands with God. Remember, through everything, you have always held that hand, grip it hard, Robert, and don't let go.

The other afternoon, when you fell asleep on my shoulder, I drifted off, too. But before I did, it occured to me looking around at all of your things and your work and going through years of work in my mind, that of all your work, you are still your most beautiful. The most beautiful work of all.

Patti

#Just Kids #Patti Smith #Robert Mapplethorpe

I was trying to prove something to myself, too. It was like, "Am I genuinely eccentric? Or am I just wearing a funny hat?" "What am I made of? What's left when you drain the pool?"

#Tom Waitts

for the soul.

#Lauren Luloff #Per Kirkeby #Sam Maloof #Ryan Bubnis #Beatrice Wood #Hand Weavers #California Design

Toward that intolerable country The Banner floats along, And the rattle of the drum is stifled By our rough backcountry shouting... In the metropolis we will feed The most cynical whoring. We will destroy all logical revolt. On to the languid scented lands! Let us implement industrial And military exploitations. Goodbye to all this, and never mind where Conscripts of good intention, We will have policies unnameable and animal. Knowing nothing of science, depraved in our pleasures, To hell with the world around us rolling... This is the real advance! Forward... March!

#Rimbaud #Illuminations #Democracy #Occupy Wall Street

blonde people in my house. xo, haywood twins.

#the haywoods #beckermanbiteplate #Farrah #blonde people

dark afternoons.

(if it's not beautiful, it probably isn't true).

#KEATS #grecian urn #Daylight Savings #November #Cold Comfort Farm

Patricia Highsmith's notebooks are at the National Swiss Library. They really are.

"Yes, perhaps sex is my theme in literature – being the most profound influence on me – manifesting itself in repressions and negatives, perhaps, but the most profound influence."

#Patricia Highsmith #thisrecording.com

"When I went back upstairs I felt an inexplicable sense of kinship with these people, though I had no way to interpret my feeling of prescience. I could never have predicted that I would one day walk in their path. At that moment I was still a gangly twenty-two-year-old book clerk, struggling simultaneously with several unfinished poems.

On that night, too excited to sleep, infinite possibilities seemed to swirl above me. I stared up at the plaster ceiling as I had done as a child. It seemed to me that the vibrating patterns overhead were sliding into place.

The mandala of my life."

#Patti Smith #Just Kids #Adam Fuss

The water of the Gulf stretched out before her, gleaming with the million lights of the sun. The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude. All along the white beach, up and down, there was no living thing in sight. A bird with a broken wing was beating the air above, reeling, fluttering, circling disabled down, down to the water.

...

She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father's voice and her sister Margaret's. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.

#Kate Chopin #The Awakening #Ashkan Honarvar

wilderness begins in the mind.

#Klunkerz #aunt josephine's house #foraging #jason fulford

#the sartorialist

Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there. And the Drano won't work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up

waiting for the plumber I still haven't called. This is the everyday we spoke of. It's winter again: the sky's a deep, headstrong blue, and the sunlight pours through

the open living-room windows because the heat's on too high in here and I can't turn it off. For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street, the bag breaking,

I've been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying along those wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my wrist and sleeve,

I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it. Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.

What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss — we want more and more and then more of it.

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I'm speechless: I am living. I remember you.

#Marie Howe #you

pathways.

#Jesse Freidin #California

#thestylerookie #Petra Collins #FALL

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i miss you much.