prayers, lilacs, veins

[prayersfromlilacveins]

"We still love the people we've loved, even if we cross the street to avoid them"

[halloweentrickortreat]

Making Apple Cider by Beatrix Potter (1866-1943).

[flowerytale]

Kate Chopin, from The Awakening

[kafaminguzelligi]

[adrasteiax]

Mary Oliver, from Worm Moon in “Twelve Moons”

[noteworthynotions]

“And within all else she was, she was keeper and protector of the grief by which she cherished what she had lost.”

Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

[foreverpraying]

Holy Trinity Stained Glass Window, Saint Anne’s Catholic Church, San Diego, CA, USA. Source of picture: catholic_priest on Instagram.

“Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that He has promised.” Hebrews 10:36

[prayersfromlilacveins]

All I can answer is that I did love her all her life—from the time before I ever saw her, it seems, until she died. I do love her all her life, and still, and always. That is my answer, but in fact love does not answer any argument. It answers all arguments, merely by turning away, leaving them to find what rest they can.

—Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry

[prayersfromlilacveins]

History overflows time. Love overflows the allowance of the world. All the vessels overflow, and no end or limit stays put. Every shakeable thing has got to be shaken. In a sense, nothing that was ever lost in Port William ever has been replaced. In another sense, nothing is ever lost, and we are compacted forever, even by our failures, our regrets, and our longings.

—Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry

[rosechata]

christie fitzpatrick

[malibuklaus]

[dancing-thru-clouds]

Hey @elodieunderglass leucistic fur seal!

[elodieunderglass]

Thank you so much! Little mozzarella stick. Little unseasoned chicken wing. Little cocktail sausage

[psikonauti]

Hélène Béland (Canadian,b.1949)

Light catcher, 2012

Oil on linen

[prayersfromlilacveins]

One bright, sunny day he had gone into the mountains, tormented by a thought that simply refused to take shape. In front of him was the brilliant sky, with the lake below and the bright and limitless horizon all around him, seeming to go on for ever. He gazed for a long time, tormented by his emotions. He now remembered stretching his arms out to that bright, endless blue, and weeping. What was tormenting him was that he was completely alien to all this. What was this feast, what was this permanent grand festival, which had no end, to which he had for long been drawn, always—ever since childhood, but could not join. Every morning the same bright sun came up; every morning there was a rainbow on the waterfall; every evening the highest snow-capped mountain, far off at the sky's rim, glowed with purple flame; every tiny fly buzzing near him in the hot sunlight was a participant in that chorus: it knew its place, loved it, and was its own path and everything knew its own path, and went forth with a song and returned with a song; he alone knew nothing and comprehended nothing, not people, not sounds, he was alien to everything, an outcast.

The Idiot, Dostoevsky

[boatsoulll]

‘Do you know I came here to see the trees? These here…’ he indicated to the trees in the park. 'That’s not silly is it? There’s nothing silly in that, is there?’

Ippolit, The Idiot (via boatsoul)

[prayersfromlilacveins]

I assert that what is serious should be treated seriously, and what is not serious should not, and that by nature god is worthy of a complete, blessed seriousness, but that what is human, as we said earlier, has been devised as a certain plaything of god, and that this is really the best thing about it.

The Athenian Stranger, Plato’s Laws, Book VII

[prayersfromlilacveins]

Wabi-sabi is an aesthetic appreciation of the evanescence of life. The luxuriant tree of summer is now only withered branches under a winter sky. All that remains of a splendid mansion is a crumbled foundation overgrown with weeds and moss. Wabi-sabi images force us to contemplate our own mortality, and they evoke an existential loneliness and tender sadness. They also stir a mingled bittersweet comfort, since we know all existence shares the same fate.

Wabi-Sabi, for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers, Leonard Koren

[prayersfromlilacveins]

'Greatness' exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details. Wabi-sabi represents the exact opposite of the Western ideal of great beauty as something monumental, spectacular and enduring. Wabi-sabi is not found in nature at moments of bloom and lushness, but at moments of inception or subsiding. Wabi-sabi is not about gorgeous flowers, majestic trees, or bold landscapes. Wabi-sabi is about the minor and the hidden, the tentative and the ephemeral: things so subtle and evanescent they are invisible to vulgar eyes.

Wabi-Sabi, for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers, Leonard Koren