Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
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Andulka
macklin celebrini has autism
almost home
occasionally subtle
if i look back, i am lost
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Love Begins
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we're not kids anymore.
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@inclarascloset
sgriobhadaireachd
/si-groh-VAH-dah-reekhd/
Scots Gaelic
n. a writer’s business
Walk in
shoes
disabused of
grandeur, Logophilic
with-ness, bearing wit-
ness, on the page
Truth-tell fiction, forming
friction, courting
candor
Pen the key, breaking
free,
from the cage
Bard born(e) deep
in the keep of
marrow
Sewn in skin,
akin a kin, of
our own
La petite mort, of a sort,
dum spiro spero
Wrapped wild in words,
sublime,
absurd, never
alone
-NH Grey
“Though April showers, may come your way
They bring the flowers, that bloom in May
So if it's raining, have no regrets
Because it isn't raining rain, you know,
It's raining violets
And where you see clouds, upon the hills
You soon will see crowds, of daffodils
So keep on looking for a blue bird
And listening for his song
Whenever April showers come along”
-from “April Showers” by Louis Silvers and B.G. De Sylva
Bon Mercredi, et Avril, mes amis!
“Golden daffodils dance in the gentle breeze, birds twitter a happy song and sunshine caresses my face as I taste the delicious sweetness of springtime again.”
-Peggy Toney Horton
Bon Lundi, mes amis!
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth
Bon Dimanche, mes amis!
Sometimes it’s genesis is about the organic abstraction intrinsic in creative flow….only then, does the inherent joy in sharing, light the soul…..
Bon Lundi, mes amis!
Sweet September…..
Close my eyes
Simply sated sighs, remember
Sink into sweeping swaths of
sunshine
skies set cerulean
blissful breezes on
the cusp of crisp
beckoning beauty
Call me comely
from summer’s stupored
hibernation
Tender trace
Caress my face
Lift and play
auburn ringlets sway
in time
welcoming me back
drawing me in
brushing my lips
recalling when
we last waltzed winsome,
riotous rhythms round us
Autumn, wrap me
wild in your wonder
swooning sweet in splendour
Arms arc wide in
adulation
celebration….
Oh love, how I’ve missed you!
For, now that you’re here
this time of year….I’m home.
-NH Grey
When a new and zippy twist is also an inordinately colourful one….makes for a decidedly fantastical Friday…Joyeux Vendredi, mes amis!
You see weeds…I see wild wishes willing to float, dance, adventure, battement with the breeze….tenacity, the ability to grow, bloom, nourish & bless in your own brand of beauty, wherever you’re planted….you see, it’s all in how you look at things….there’s power in perspective
-NH Grey
Bon Lundi, mes amis!
“Hand of Grace” -NH Grey Photography