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spieltreib

A Pang is more conspicuous in Spring

In contrast with the things that sing

Not Birds entirely– but Minds–

Minute Effulgencies and Winds–

When what they sung for is undone

Who cares about a Blue Bird’s Tune–

Emily Dickinson, poem 1530

1five1two

'Spring'. Akseli Gallen-Kallela. 1900.

dailyrothko

Mark Rothko, Personage 2, 1946, Oil on canvas 142 x 82 cm

#rothko

didoofcarthage

“Fragment from Balustrade of the Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens” by William James Stillman

c. 1882

albumen silver print from glass negative

Gillman Collection, Metropolitan Museum of Art

dvoeverie-stitches

"All Souls' Day" by the Czech artist Jakub Schikaneder, created in 1888

mother-lee

moon

hideback

Book of Hours of Isabelle de Lalaing, Cambray, 15th Century

#the illuminated page #iris

geopsych

From a walk on the 25th of August 2019.

dame-de-pique

Arnold Heim - On the Pacific Ocean, 07.01.1912

#waves

dailyrothko

Mark Rothko, Agitation of the Archaic, 1944

Oil on canvas, Gift of the Mark Rothko Foundation

#rothko

mediumaevum

A collection of Black Books of Hours

Black Hours, ca. 1475 (Morgan Library, New York)

Horae beatae marie secundum usum curie romane, ca. 1458 (Hispanic Society of America)

Black Hours of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, ca. 1466-1476 (Austrian National Library)

#the illuminated page

altargrl

It is the phenomenon sometimes called “alienation from self.” In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question.

Joan Didion, On Self-Respect, 1961.

tatzelwurming

i need to drink black coffee ina brutalist research building

#it was fun for the first like four years

mipiacimipiaci

theancientwayoflife

~ Nike.

Date: ca. 190 B.C.

Place of discovery/origin: Myrina (tomb 112 B), Greece

girlmostlikely

PJ Harvey

grubloved

i'm listening to gathering moss, by robin wall kimmerer, and she is talking about a very odd job she was consigned to do, where an eccentric millionaire recuited her to consult on a "habitat restoration". when she arrives, the job they actually want her to do is to tell them how to plant mosses on the rocks in his garden. he wants it to look like a specific, beautiful wild cliff in the woods nearby, with centuries-old beds of moss growing thick and strong. she tells him it is impossible. such a thing would take decades to accomplish.

later, she is called back to look at the progress of the moss garden and is amazed by the thick, well-established mosses. how did they do it? she asks.

then they take her out to the woods and show her that they have been blasting huge chunks of rock out of the cliff, packaging them in burlap, and moving them to the owner's garden.

kcsmall

This quote really got me: "The owner is a man who loves mosses, and the exercise of power. I have no doubts of his sincerity in wishing to protect them from harm, once they conformed to his landscape design. But I think you cannot own a thing and love it at the same time. Owning diminishes the sovreignty of a thing, enriching the possessor and diminishing the possessed. If he truly loved mosses more than control, he would have left them alone, and walked each day to see them."

- Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer

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