I know this cold, as it knows me That clarion silence of winter, where all things must come to end
// Part 23
RMH
Cosimo Galluzzi

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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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cherry valley forever
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I know this cold, as it knows me That clarion silence of winter, where all things must come to end
// Part 23
A passing ode to those stalwart pines, those gentle keepers of winter, caretakers to a land in silent sleeping
// Part 11
The gentle light hangs in the ephemeral stillness And slips through the fingers in it’s kind and silken embrace
// Part 24
Yves Bonnefoy, tr. Marc Elihu Hofstadter, from “Dream has Laid its Painted Silks,” wr. c.1955
Inktober 2019 week 2. Acrylic ink golden paint and gold leave on Arches paper. 17.5 cm x 22.5 cm.
Our speech and action is the outer journey, Our inner journey is above the sky. The body travels on its dusty way; The spirit walks … on the sea.
- Rumi “The Mystic Way”
When SZA said “lonely enough to let you treat me like this”
“I need the patience of an angel,”
— Marcel Proust, from The Complete Works; “Remembrance of Things Past,”
So much damn truth.
Loch an Eilein, Rothiemurchus Forest, Highlands, Scotland.
“You were wild and sweet between pleasure and sleep, between fire and water.”
— Pablo Neruda, tr. by Paul Weinfield, from “Night on the Island,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
I’m an unrepentant bitch, and I’ll find peace despite it all.
Up
Rýchory virgin forest, Giant Mountains, Czech Republic
Pearl, a rare albino raven.
And her lips felt like a candle wax, making her little world cunningly of elements and angelic sparks carrying the transcendent memory, of something that will keep them apart.