These fragments I have shored against my ruins. -T.S. Eliot

These fragments I have shored against my ruins.  -T.S. Eliot
Showing posts with label sun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sun. Show all posts

Monday, April 22, 2013

In full view of the world, the crown of the tree unfolds and spreads in time and space














Like a blazing comet, I’ve traversed infinite nights, interstellar spaces of the imagination, voluptuousness and fear. I’ve been a man, a woman, an old person, a little girl, I’ve been the crowds on the grand boulevards of the capital cities of the West, I’ve been the serene Buddha of the East, whose calm and wisdom we envy. I’ve known honor and dishonor, enthusiasm and exhaustion….I’ve been the sun and the moon, and everything because life is not enough.
-Antonio TabucchiDreams of Dreams and the Last Three Days of Fernando Pessoa
Image: Jane Hammond. 2004.
Title: Paul Klee

Monday, January 14, 2013

A swarm of voluptuous moths

























    Amazingly,
I am too the memory of a sword
and of a solitary, falling sun,
turning itself to gold, then gray, then nothing.
I am the one who sees the approaching ships
from harbor. And I am the dwindled books,
the rare engravings worn away by time;
the one who envies those already dead.
Stranger to be the woman who interlaces
such words as these, in some room in a house.
-adapted from Jorge Luis Borges, “I” 

Image: Christo and Jeanne Claude, Wrapped Trees, Fondation Beyeler and Berower Park, Riehen, Switzerland, 1997-98
Photo: Wolfgang Volz
Title: Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions: Volume I [The Book of Yukel, Return to the Book], translated by Rosmarie Waldrop

Sunday, December 23, 2012

A Grotesque and Magnificent Inferno
























Estimated number of fireflies it would take to generate the visible brightness of the sun: 14,286,000,000.

-Professor Cole Gilbert, Cornell University

Title: Alexander Blok
Image: Robert Rausschenberg, Mother of God, 1950 

Monday, March 5, 2012

Rather Than Words













Rather than words comes the thought of high windows:
The sun-comprehending glass,
And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows
Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.

—Philip Larkin, “High Windows”


Image: Karl Friedrich Schinkel, The arrival of the Queen of the Night, production for Mozart’s Magic Flute, 1815