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Home with a camera.
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“He said nothing. I knew when I saw him that it would be useless to ask anything while he was in that state…He explained when we were smaller that when things were very bad his soul just crawled behind his heart and curled up and went to sleep. When it awoke, the fearful thing had gone away…I also had to swear that when his soul was sleeping I would never try to wake it, for the shock might make it go to sleep forever.”
—Maya Angelou
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“Mother’s beauty made her powerful and her power made her unflinchingly honest.”
—Maya Angelou
(…)
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"It must be hard for you to meet someone in Sonoma. And, all of your friends are gay."— My mother’s lament, c. 2019 -
Hamlet with
a cormorant
under his arm
married Ophelia.
She was still
wet from drowning.
She looked like
a white flower
that has been
left in the
rain too long.
I love you,
said Ophelia,
and I love
that dark
bird you
hold in
your arms.—Richard Brautigan
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"Reality hurts you because you’re sensitive."—(via valentinakimilyjones)
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Suffering vs. Suffern, New York.
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From it, from the palm of her hand against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one’s lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it could be felt with the touch of their fingers alone, but that was so strengthened, so intensified, and made so urgent, so aching and so strong by the hard pressure of their fingers and the close pressed palm and wrist, that it was as though a current moved up his arm and filled his whole body with an aching hollowness of wanting…
Maria: “I die each time. Do you not die?”
Jordan: “No. Almost. But did thee feel the earth move?”
Maria: “Yes. As I died.”
—Ernest Hemingway
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"Reed, being the snob of the earth when it came to martinis, didn’t know what to do with his."— Diana Vreeland on Reed Vreeland -
I was going to look like one of the sweet little white girls who were everybody’s dream of what was right with the world. Hanging softly over the black Singer sewing machine, it looked like magic, and when people saw me wearing it they were going to run up to me and say, “Marguerite [sometimes it was ‘dear Marguerite’], forgive us, please, we didn’t know who you were,” and I would answer generously, “No, you couldn’t have known. Of course I forgive you.”…
…If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of her displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.
It is an unnecessary insult.
—Maya Angelou -
Ex pas de deux & me.
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1. “He’s more myself than I am.” (1847, Brontë, p. 75)
2. A coin can represent Heathcliff and Catherine
3. 1 & 2