[y4lokin]

“懐かしい ’natsukashii' = ‘I remember this; this either is or reminds me strongly of a thing or a bygone era I love or once loved or stopped loving at one point in time and now realize I wish to love it again.’”

[y4lokin]

Fear

Fear not the ceaseless raging sea, But the fleeting fall of stars; The meeting of inchoate beginnings With uncouth endings.

[fujiwara57]

Kuroki Mitsuko 黒木美都子 (1991 - ).

The evanescent illustrations and the delicate and luxurious nature painted by the young woman gives an enchanting touch.

[y4lokin]

As children father men, so do men father so many ghosts forever clinging to our being, following us (n)everywhere we go along with everything we own, to the stranger places beyond the world's odds and ends, sinking deep into the dreamed earth on which our children play, thawing giants of frost and recollecting names of long-forgotten gods; and yet, in darker nights the mouth finds its lips likened to a prayer, or a gentle little wish whispered: O collection of old ghosts; o rattling bag of bones; o brother lost. Stay with me a while longer. Show me one more lane leading to one more ocean. I can't find them anymore.

WIP; from an as-yet untitled prose poem/personal essay hybrid I’m currently writing on the novel THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE by Neil Gaiman 

[fujiwara57]

Hirano Miho 平野実穂 (1984 ? - ).

Artiste japonaise, son travail artistique est hanté par de jeunes femmes éphémères qui semblent émerger de leur environnement, les cheveux suspendus, flottants entre des branches sinueuses, et des feuillages pleins d’oiseaux.

[tiny-word-warrior]

I need more writing and poetry blogs to follow! Please like or reblog and I’ll check you out!

[y4lokin]

I’m new and pretty terrible, but please feel free to have a look~

And a suggestion: housewiththereddoor

[1000drawings]

Magenta tiger  by Roland Banrevi

[y4lokin]

“Tyger Tyger, burning bright...“

[y4lokin]

Stardust

Our existence may appear but fleetingly brief and insignificant and our individual lives worthless (unless we happen to be Albert Einstein, or George Washington, or who have you) in the greater cosmic scheme of things. But consider that at least 99.99% of the universe surrounding the warming globe we call our home is cold dead space. It continues to senselessly expand, hurtling itself forward into nothingness, only to one day contract and end itself and everything in it, tearing us to molecular shreds by brute gravitational force. To gaze at stars, then, is to look death square in the eye. It is to worship darkness and deadness. But gaze into the eyes of that disabled woman on the train, that homeless man in the shelter, and you may witness the bright richness of endless universes imbued with the incredible miracle of life, alive with a mind possessed of the magical ability to find hope in dreams and fashion love out of silence. So don’t fool yourself or others into thinking our human struggles and problems are minuscule or unimportant in some greater galactic context. That is ridiculous and insane. Every ache matters because we are everything. You are everything. Before we return to stardust we must love to death each and every atom of one another. It is insane if we do not.

[y4lokin]

Loneliness

Loneliness,

Or time become an ocean,

And every breath

Another drowning.

[y4lokin]

The Wayfarer’s Wife

The wayfarer's wife was blind, So he went out to see the world for her. He mapped every desert’s blossom, And every snowy mountain’s stream; Listened to a thousand souls yearning, Felt a million hearts aching, But when he returned she said, “While you were gone, I shaped love out of dreams, And built of silence a cathedral. When you were not here.” She smiled and said, “Goodbye.” He said, “I know.”

[y4lokin]

[y4lokin]

The aim of art is to project an inner vision into the world, to state in aesthetic creation the deepest psychic and personal experiences of a human being. It is to enable those experiences to be intelligible and generally recognized within the total framework of an ideal world.

From TAO OF JEET KUNE DO by Bruce Lee

[bushidocaps]

[y4lokin]

But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy, and the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil, I have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution and too impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas' books of voyages. At that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive its most important benefits from such a conviction that I perceived the necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my native country. Now I am twenty-eight and am in reality more illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more and that my daydreams are more extended and magnificent, but they want (as the painters call it) KEEPING; and I greatly need a friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind. Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen.

From “Letter 2″ in FRANKENSTEIN by Mary Shelley

[y4lokin]

Or are you both? And what do you lust after? How can such a thing as lust even be, When it is provable that you are nothing but a temporary agglomeration of atoms. Wavelengths of energy, as it were. Though this moment has this form, but not for long, And is not even fully present in this form. For do you not think? And in thinking, do you not think of places? Am I then to think these places of which you think are... thought in your head or are they in your head? Or are they somewhere else? In thinking of them, do you see them? In seeing of them, are they real? If they are not real, will you then say that what you see before you now is more or less real, therefore you only know it by the seeing? Is that not so? Yes, I thought as much. Because I would submit to you, my friend, that you are surrounded by allegory. All of this is allegory. All of it. All of it. This is allegory. This flesh.

Sample from “Forced Vision” by Saltillo

[y4lokin]

I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set it free.

Michelangelo

[y4lokin]