The Phenomenological World
As I drive by my neighbor’s yard,
a swan I’ve mistaken daily for an ornament
raises a wing.
—Jo McDougall, from her book of poems, “Dirt.” Thanks to Sugar on the Rumpus.
The Break Up
It’s likely that the cause of it
wasn’t any one thing,
certainly not anything
either of them would believe.
Just the wearing away,
water constantly reminding stone.
—Jo McDougall, from her book of poems “Dirt.”
All that we know is nothing, we are merely crammed wastepaper baskets, unless we are in touch with that which laughs at all our knowing.
D.H. Lawrence, with thanks to 12Bent AKA Ordinary Finds.
Awe is everywhere, we just don’t always perceive it.
Alain De Botton (Thank you, therespendentvagabond.)
(Source: inthenoosphere, via equatoreal-deactivated20120520)
Gao Xingjian, L’attente. Thank you, bulkington & laroutedeulysse.
(Source: eralaroute, via bulkington)
Weegee, Not even music came out, ca. 1954. From Fans in a Flashbulb.
Whirlpool Cloud (by NASA Goddard Photo and Video) (via n-a-s-a). Thank you, invisiblestories.
We say to the confused, Know thyself, as if knowing yourself was not the fifth and most difficult of human arithmetical operations, we say to the apathetic, Where there’s a will, there’s a way, as if the brute realities of the world did not amuse themselves each day by turning that phrase on its head, we say to the indecisive, Begin at the beginning, as if the beginning were the clearly visible point of a loosely wound thread and all we had to do was to keep pulling until we reached the other end, and as if, between the former and the latter, we had held in our hands a smooth, continuous thread with no knots to untie, no snarls to untangle, a complete impossibility in the life of a skein, or indeed, if we may be permitted one more stock phrase, in the skein of life.
José Saramago, with much gratitude to Whiskey River, who never ceases to amaze.
