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Jenny Hval, from Girls Against God

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having to come to terms with the fact that love is not an everlasting performance in which you attempt to retain the attention of your significant other but rather a release of control and putting faith into them and trusting them to choose to stay with you no matter what you have to offer

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If you are in the garden, I will dress myself in leaves. If you are in the sea I will slide into that smooth blue nest, I will talk fish, I will adore salt. But if you are sad, I will not dress myself in desolation. I will present myself with all the laughters I can muster. And if you are angry I will come, calm and steady, with some small and easy story.

— Mary Oliver, The Leaf and the Cloud: A Poem Da Capo Press; October 1, 2001) (via Alive on All Channels)

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(via 8aa7a958e0051e57b77aa6a8f6e4c15f.jpg (564×696))

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This world of ours is piled high with farewells and goodbyes of so many different kinds, like the evening sky renewing itself again and again from one instant to the next - and I didn’t want to forget a single one.

-- Banana Yoshimoto

(London)

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𝖩𝗂𝗃𝗂 & 𝖫𝗂𝗅𝗒 ♡

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me core

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From Two poems by Mahmoud Darwish

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September 2023 ---- PCH & Monterey, CA on 35mm

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Vladimir Ryabkov

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One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.

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Victorian Home - Source: Pinterest. com

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平和 ﹕give it to the universe ⁺˳✧

── ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ─────

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— Mary Oliver, The Pond

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I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better.

Mary Oliver, Sleeping in the Forest