"when i reached, 30, i think i felt what a lot of people feel when they reach 30, or around this age, which is that maybe the way your life is isn't the way you thought your life was going to be when you were 20 or when you were 15. and you kind of freak out a little bit and you wonder, you know, holy crap, like, i'm aging, i'm getting older and i still have all this stuff that's not figured out. it's strange, it's almost like the process of growing up has made me, well, almost like, less sure of myself somehow because i see there's so much more that i don't know which i didn't see before. "
Harris, J., 2011 on Today
{random poetry #89}
[the peace of wild things ]
when despair grows in me
and i wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
i go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
i come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. i come into the presence of still water.
and i feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. for a time
i rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
•.•❤•.•
there is a day
when the road neither
comes nor goes, and the way
is not a way but a place.
Berry, W.
how much data is too much data?
"tracking nearly anything you do is alarming and humbling. The aggregates of our actions are lost on us: we can watch hundreds of hours of television and write it off as a small time commitment. How much is too much? It’s hard to make pretty charts without learning something and thinking about what they should look like."
Wright, T.
[ amor fati ]
“my formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it - all idealism is mendacity in the face of what is necessary - but love it”
Nietzsche, F., On the Genealogy of Morals/Ecce Homo
*photo by dani
“como já deveríamos saber,
a representação mais exacta, mais precisa,
da alma humana é o labirinto.
com ela tudo é possível.”
Saramago, J. in A Viagem do Elefante
"i beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
Rilke (1875-1926)
[ the mood of synesthesia ]
syn·es·the·sia (sĭn'ĭs-thē'zhə)
A condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color.
A sensation felt in one part of the body as a result of stimulus applied to another, as in referred pain.
The description of one kind of sense impression by using words that normally describe another.
Synesthesia from Terri Timely
life continues, and some mornings, weary of the noise, discouraged by the prospect of the interminable work to keep after, sickened also by the madness of the world that leaps at you from the newspaper, finally convinced that I will not be equal to it and that I will disappoint everyone - all I want to do is sit down and wait for evening.
this is what I feel like, and sometimes I yield to it.
Camus, A.
{random poetry #88}
sempre caro mi fu quest'ermo colle,
e questa siepe, che da tanta parte
dell'ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude.
Ma sedendo e mirando, interminati
spazi di là da quella, e sovrumani
silenzi, e profondissima quïete
io nel pensier mi fingo, ove per poco
il cor non si spaura. E come il vento
odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello
infinito silenzio a questa voce
vo comparando: e mi sovvien l'eterno,
e le morte stagioni, e la presente
e viva, e il suon di lei. Così tra questa
immensità s'annega il pensier mio:
e il naufragar m'è dolce in questo mare
•.•❤•.•
always dear to me was this solitary hill
and this hedge, which, from so many parts
of the far horizon, the sight excludes.
But sitting and gazing endless
spaces beyond it, and inhuman
silences, and the deepest quiet,
I fake myself in my thoughts; where almost
my heart scares. As the wind
I hear rustling through these trees, I, that
infinite silence, to this voice
keep comparing: and I feel the eternal,
the dead seasons, the present,
and living one, and the sound of her. So in this
immensity drown my own thoughts:
and sinking in this sea is sweet to me.
Leopardi, G. (1798 - 1837)
"life unfolds in a digital river where
experiences and common interests are the
ties that bind us."
Solis, B.
*photographic exhibition “Beyond Science", IIT
{ sacred art review #1 }
“they are savage
for knowledge,
for beauty and truth.
they crawl on their knees to find it.”
Laux D., in Facts About the Moon
@ rome & lecce, italy
view sacred art review #0
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