Thoreau In Making

20 // Bob Dylan // Books // Music // Art

[chelseastamfordbridge-deactivat]

[scriptwriters-network]

There are significant moments in everyone’s day that can make literature. That’s what you ought to write about.

Raymond Carver

(via

scriptwriters-network

)

[euripideez-nuts]

secret garden

if you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden // frances hodgson burnett, the secret garden

[somecunttookmyurl]

there is a tendency with history, i think, because we're so far removed from it, to kind of forget that all of the people were people

a child 10,000 years ago left a handprint on a wall. they were fingerpainting. a viking climbs up a rock just to carve the words "this is very high" 10ft off the ground. somebody centuries... milennia... ago burned their dinner so thoroughly that they buried the ruined pot in the backyard rather than attempt to clean it. shakespeare got drunk and wrote dick jokes. tutankhamun was a little boy who liked ducks more than anything. a roman carves his name into a monument in another country saying "i was here". a prisoner, centuries ago, in the tower of london scratches lines into the wall as a tally marking the days. a medieval monk scrawls in the margins bemoaning the boredom of his work.

every human being across history has said "i was here. i lived. i loved. i made something. i laughed. i cried. please do not forget me"

[tightshinyclothes]

[noosphe-re]

“Make two fists and bring them together to appreciate the rough volume and shape of the human brain. Its unprepossessing appearance has led to many deprecating descriptions; my favorite is the mathematician Roger Penrose’s: a bowl of porridge. In its two wrinkled, wet, warm hemispheres lie chemical and electric circuits of the greatest known complexity and density in the universe. Aside from its shocking smallness — somehow I had always imagined the brain as far bigger than the skull that encloses it — the brain’s other surprising aspect is its crumpled appearance. The brain is squeezed like badly packed clothes into its bony case. Any slice through it shows why: its outermost quarter inch or so is a continuous layer of densely packed and interconnected nerve cells so large that to fit into the skull it must be deeply folded and pleated, leaving about a third of its pinkish-gray surface showing when the skull is lifted off. This gray matter is the brain’s cerebral cortex. Nerve cells in the cortex are organized in columns that run perpendicular to its wrinkled outer surface, making that surface a fine-grained intarsia or mosaic of the tops of many tiny cortical columns. Nerve cells from each sensory tissue send their information to different tiles of the cortex’s mosaic. Adjacent columns then share the information with each other and with organized clusters of nerve cells elsewhere in the cortex as well as in the rest of the brain.”

— Robert Pollack, The Missing Moment: How the Unconscious Shapes Modern Science

[thoreau-in-making]

I'm falling in love with Calliope

She don't belong to anyone, why not give her to me?

- Bob Dylan

[noosphe-re]

“When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime.”

— Henry David Thoreau, Walden

[thoreau-in-making]

"Mother of Muses, unleash your wrath

Things I can't see, they're blocking my path

Show me your wisdom, tell me my fate

Put me upright, make me walk straight

Forge my identity from the inside out

You know what I'm talking about."

Bob Dylan (Rough and Rowdy Ways)

[thoreau-in-making]

Tango, Scent of a Woman

[thoreau-in-making]

"Everything measurable passes, everything that can be counted has an end. Only three things are infinite: the sky in its stars, the sea in its drops of water, and the heart in its tears."

- Gustave Flaubert

[not-safe-for-democracy]

[naaaaaaaaaah-deactivated2020112]

to be clear 1984 is the name of the book that quote is from, the year he wrote it was 1949

[minuty]

[thoreau-in-making]

"People who are not in love fail to understand how an intelligent man can suffer because of a very ordinary woman. This is like being surprised that anyone should be stricken with cholera because of a creature so insignificant as the common bacillus."

— Marcel Proust

Artwork: Malcolm Leipke

[thoreau-in-making]

[howieabel]

“I take criticism so seriously as to believe that, even in the midst of a battle in which one is unmistakably on one side against another, there should be criticism, because there must be critical consciousness if there are to be issues, problems, values, even lives to be fought for… Criticism must think of itself as life-enhancing and constitutively opposed to every form of tyranny, domination, and abuse; its social goals are non-coercive knowledge produced in the interests of human freedom.”

—

Edward W. Said

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“Many a man thinks he is buying pleasure when he is really selling himself to it.” - Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack