Philadelphia: Willis P. Hazzard, 1854.
5:16 pm • 31 October 2013 • 4,157 notes
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises
This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling
Come here, little one
And the soul creeps out of the tree.”
— All Hallows by Louise Gluck (via words-in-lines)
5:16 pm • 31 October 2013 • 24 notes
Cy Twombly, Poems to the Sea (1959)
[when a mountain doesn’t listen, say a prayer to the sea]
(Source: mianoti, via commovente)
8:46 pm • 27 October 2013 • 2,499 notes
“The unsaid, for me, exerts great power: often I wish an entire poem could be made in this vocabulary. It is analogous to the unseen; for example, to the power of ruins, to works of art either damaged or incomplete. Such works inevitably allude to larger contexts; they haunt because they are not whole, though wholeness is implied: another time, a world in which they were whole, or were to have been whole, is implied. There is no moment in which their first home is felt to be the museum. A few years ago, I saw a show of Holbein drawings; most astonishing were those still in progress. Parts were entirely finished. And parts were sketched, a fluent line indicating arm or hand or hair, but the forms were not filled in. Holbein had made notes to himself: this sleeve blue, hair, auburn. The terms were other-not the color in the world, but the color in paint or chalk. What these unfinished drawings generated was a vivid sense of Holbein at work, at the sitting; to see them was to have a sense of being back in time, back in the middle of something. Certain works of art become artifacts. By works of art, I mean works in any medium. And certain works of art do not. It seems to me that what is wanted, in art, is to harness the power of the unfinished.”
— Louise Glück, “Disruption, Hesitation, Silence”
8:45 pm • 27 October 2013 • 3 notes
Arvind Desai Ki Ajeeb Dastaan (1978)
“The very presence of women in public in seen as transgressive and fraught with anxiety,” write academic Shilpa Pahadke, journalist Sameera Khan and architect Shilpa Ranade in Why Loiter: Women and Risk on Mumbai Streets, a book that shares with the film its central concern—women’s right to the city. “So long as women are able to convey the dominant narrative of gender—that they belong in private and not the public—they get conditional access to public space. To signal refusal to adhere to these codes often invites censures, sanctions and violence.” The book makes a spectacular case for women’s right to loiter, questioning why in India women must walk a straight line between one “sheltered” space and another. It dares readers to imagine an Indian city with street corners full of women. “A man may stop for a cigarette at a paanwalla or lounge on a park bench. He may stop to stare at the sea or drink cutting chai at a tea stall. He might even wander the streets late into the night. Women may not… She is either mad or bad or dangerous to society.”
This particular scene has always been really captivating for me with consideration of two contextually important things. The first is that Alice (played by Anjali Paigankar) chooses to “loiter” at night, and despite shopping + consuming having a gendered connotation, she seems to have no real intention of buying anything in particular which strengthens this theme of the woman and the public space. Even the way she walks around looking at sunglasses, shoes, etc. is lethargic and pointless, especially with the last scene in mind where her brother tells her mother that her late hours at work are for “other” purposes. Juxtapose this scene with the titular character Arvind Desai’s various instances of loitering and the second reason Alice’s occupation of public space is interesting becomes obvious. Arvind and Alice have the same disposition though the connotations behind these dispositions are separated by gender and class. When Arvind loiters, he is a consumer but an intellectually displaced man too. When Alice loiters, we do not focus on her internal character and the philosophies she might cater to. Instead we look at the external—the store, the danger of the male gaze, her body language, her clothes, and her reasons.
11:58 pm • 25 October 2013 • 967 notes
The awesome beauty of the Arctic is one of huge scale, subtle colors, simple forms of sea, plain, and mountain. Woven into it, though, is an intricate, fragile web of existence spun from the eternal light of summer to the endless dark of winter.
National Geographic - February, 1983
11:58 pm • 25 October 2013 • 3,926 notes
enjoy this embroidery that took much too long
it’s supposed to be a visual representation of a song
9:19 am • 18 October 2013 • 418 notes
you said that you were lonely,
and then we kissed like lonely people do.
you said this city has a beating heart
that pushes people down the boulevard,
and they’re all waiting for a wish fulfilled.
9:31 am • 16 October 2013 • 16 notes
Mikko Kuorinki, “Wall Piece with 200 Letters” (2010-2011)
1:26 pm • 10 October 2013 • 20,039 notes