Jul 7, 2023
She was at that moment the legendary firebird rising from the ashes of a delicate nocturne, a blessing and a curse to her captors.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Lithuania
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Maldives
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Bulgaria
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Russia
She was at that moment the legendary firebird rising from the ashes of a delicate nocturne, a blessing and a curse to her captors.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
--- Our possessions cause us much pain, he replied.
--- How can that be when they give you such pleasure?
--- Someone else will have them when I am dead. This causes me pain.
--- I belong to no one, she said defiantly.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
What is the task? To compose a work that communicates on several levels, as in a parable, devoid of the stain of cleverness. [...]
What is the dream? To write something fine, that would be better than I am, and that would justify my trials and indiscretions. To offer proof, through a scramble of words, that God exists. [...]
Why do I write? My finger, as a stylus, traces the question in the blank air. A familiar riddle posed since youth, withdrawing from play, comrades and the valley of love, girded with words, a beat outside. [...]
Why do we write? A chorus erupts. [...]
Because we cannot simply live.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
Catherine made lunch for us and prepared a violet-colored tea, a medicinal for my chronic cought. The conversation was warm and natural without a moment's awkwardness.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
Any trepidation I may have felt dissipated with his kindness and the warmth of their reception.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
[...] his name [on thte tombstone] somewhat eroded, as if nature had written a story of her own.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
Why is one compelled to write? To set oneself apart, cocooned, rapt in solitude, despite the wants of others. [...] All seeking an emptiness to imbue with words. The words that will penetrate virgin territory, crack unclaimed combinations, articulate the infinite. [...] We must write, engaging in a myriad of struggles, as if breaking in a willful foal.
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)
And the face of love is nothing
but the whiteness of winter
blanketing the hill
Devotion, Patti Smith (x)