Anne Michaels, from "Infinite Gradation," originally published in October 2017
reading ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. This happens much more often than I admit to you, but seldom when I’m writing to you. Try to understand me: I love you while paying attention to external things. At Toulouse I simply loved you. Tonight I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love.
Jean-Paul Sartre, in a letter to Simone De Beauvoir wr. c. 1926 featured in Witness to My Life: The Letters of to Simone De Beauvoir, 1926–1939
Joanna Glenn, from her novel titled "All My Mothers," originally published in 2021
Heart-shaped spider web
Sunset in the Colorado mountains November 2023
Vivian Maier - Chicago, 1978.
Bob Ross: The Joy of Painting (1990)
Clouds over the valley, southeast Arizona. Photo copyright by j.e.syme 2024
really rocking with proust
the sound cuts out
Chris Van Allsburg • The Hooded Congregation
Flowers by Stephen Doherty
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The waves fold over each other; they are in love with themselves; sleeping in their own skin; and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.
Anne Sexton, from a letter to W.D. Snodgrass, dated 15 November 1958, featured in A Self-Portrait in Letters
たおる?
べっどでち?こふのネドコでち?
Towels? Here's bed, Kofu think...yep, surely Kofu's bed!