Ursula K. Le Guin on Aging and What Beauty Really Means | Brain Pickings

Ursula K. Le Guin by Laura Anglin

Ursula K. Le Guin on Aging and What Beauty Really Means | Brain Pickings.

‘Is Disappointment Even Relevant Anymore?’: Philip-Lorca diCorcia on His ‘East of Eden’ Show at David Zwirner | ARTnews

The Hamptons, 2008.COURTESY THE ARTIST AND DAVID ZWIRNER

‘Is Disappointment Even Relevant Anymore?’: Philip-Lorca diCorcia on His ‘East of Eden’ Show at David Zwirner | ARTnews.

The Believer Logger – Reading Bhanu Kapil — Reading Bhanu Kapil

The Believer Logger – Reading Bhanu Kapil — Reading Bhanu Kapil.

John Berger / and our faces, my heart, brief as photos~ (English Version): #132

Originally posted on word pond:

View original

Galway Kinnell’s “Little Sleep’s-Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight”

Little Sleep’s-Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight

1

You scream, waking from a nightmare.

When I sleepwalk
into your room, and pick you up,
and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me
hard,
as if clinging could save us. I think
you think
I will never die, I think I exude
to you the permanence of smoke or stars,
even as
my broken arms heal themselves around you.

2

I have heard you tell
the sun, don’t go down, I have stood by
as you told the flower, don’t grow old,
don’t die. Little Maud,

I would blow the flame out of your silver cup,
I would suck the rot from your fingernail,
I would brush your sprouting hair of the dying light,
I would scrape the rust off your ivory bones,
I would help death escape through the little ribs of your body,
I would alchemize the ashes of your cradle back into wood,
I would let nothing of you go, ever,

until washerwomen
feel the clothes fall asleep in their hands,
and hens scratch their spell across hatchet blades,
and rats walk away from the cultures of the plague,
and iron twists weapons toward the true north,
and grease refuses to slide in the machinery of progress,
and men feel as free on earth as fleas on the bodies of men,
and lovers no longer whisper to the presence beside them in the
dark, O corpse-to-be …

And yet perhaps this is the reason you cry,
this the nightmare you wake screaming from:
being forever
in the pre-trembling of a house that falls.

3

In a restaurant once, everyone
quietly eating, you clambered up
on my lap: to all
the mouthfuls rising toward
all the mouths, at the top of your voice
you cried
your one word, caca! caca! caca!
and each spoonful
stopped, a moment, in midair, in its withering
steam.

Yes,
you cling because
I, like you, only sooner
than you, will go down
the path of vanished alphabets,
the roadlessness
to the other side of the darkness,

your arms
like the shoes left behind,
like the adjectives in the halting speech
of old men,
which once could call up the lost nouns.

4

And you yourself,
some impossible Tuesday
in the year Two Thousand and Nine, will walk out
among the black stones
of the field, in the rain,

and the stones saying
over their one word, ci-gît, ci-gît, ci-gît,

and the raindrops
hitting you on the fontanel
over and over, and you standing there
unable to let them in.

5

If one day it happens
you find yourself with someone you love
in a café at one end
of the Pont Mirabeau, at the zinc bar
where white wine stands in upward opening glasses,

and if you commit then, as we did, the error
of thinking,
one day all this will only be memory,

learn,
as you stand
at this end of the bridge which arcs,
from love, you think, into enduring love,
learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come – to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth
which tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.

The still undanced cadence of vanishing.

6

In the light the moon
sends back, I can see in your eyes

the hand that waved once
in my father’s eyes, a tiny kite
wobbling far up in the twilight of his last look:

and the angel
of all mortal things lets go the string.

7

Back you go, into your crib.

The last blackbird lights up his gold wings: farewell.
Your eyes close inside your head,
in sleep. Already
in your dreams the hours begin to sing.

Little sleep’s-head sprouting hair in the moonlight,
when I come back
we will go out together,
we will walk out together among
the ten thousand things,
each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages
of dying is love.

from The Book of Nightmares by Galway Kinnell

Mompou ~ Musica Callada

Mompou is best known as a miniaturist, writing short, relatively improvisatory music, often described as “delicate” or “intimate.” His principal influences were French impressionismErik Satie and Gabriel Fauré, resulting in a style in which musical development is minimized and expression is concentrated into very small forms. He was fond of ostinato figures, bell imitations (his mother’s family owned the Dencausse bell foundry and his grandfather was a bell maker),[1][3] and a kind of incantatory, meditative sound, the most complete expression of which can be found in his masterpiece Musica Callada (or the Voice of Silence) based on the mystical poetry of Saint John of the Cross. It employs very simple, even childlike melodies, but tinged with sadness, melancholy and a nostalgic echo of a forgotten far-away land.[citation needed]

He was also influenced by the sounds and smells of the maritime quarter of Barcelona, the cry of seagulls, the sound of children playing and popular Catalan culture. He often dispensed with bar lines and key signatures. His music is rooted in the chord G-C-E-A-D, which he named Barri de platja (the Beach Quarter).[1] — Wikipedia

Gen Silent — Free Showing at University of Hartford, West Hartford, CT, April 24, 2015

Free screening of the film Gen Silent
Friday, April 24, from 6 to 8:30 p.m. in Auerbach Auditorium (Hillyer 125)

Gen Silent shares the stories of LGBT older adults dealing with the challenges and hopes of growing older. Since 2010, this landmark movie has inspired a worldwide movement of LGBT and aging advocates to create safe and welcoming experiences for older adults and caregivers in the community. For more information about the film, visithttp://stumaddux.com/GEN_SILENT.html.

light dinner will be provided at 6 p.m., and a panel discussion will take place after the one-hour film. For visitors to the campus, refer tohttp://www.hartford.edu/visitingcampus/ and use Lot A or B. A parking permit will be provided at the door.

To register for the event, call 1.877.926.8300 or register online at http://aarp.cvent.com/GenSilentUofH.

Backed by the AARP, University of Hartford, Spectrum, PFLAG-Hartford, and CT Prime Timers. For more about the AARP and the LGBT community, visit http://www.aarp.org/pride

.Gen Silent —.

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