Posts Tagged ‘ being ’

Marilyn McCabe – Writing in Mind | Solstice Literary Magazine

. . . some as yet unreached depth of emotional truth. And I am starting to think that the only way to get there is to write my way there. – Marilyn McCabe

Source: Writing, Meditation, and the Art of Looking – Solstice Literary Magazine

Hannah Arendt on Being vs. Appearing and Our Impulse for Self-Display | Brain Pickings

hannaharendt2

Hannah Arendt by Fred Stein, 1944 (Photograph courtesy of the Fred Stein Archive)

Hannah Arendt On Appearing and Being | Brain Pickings

Two Recommendations: The Poetry of George Oppen and Larry Eigner | Sibila

 

Two Recommendations: The Poetry of George Oppen and Larry Eigner | Sibila.

Ivy League Schools Are Overrated. Send Your Kids Elsewhere. | New Republic

 

Ivy League Schools Are Overrated. Send Your Kids Elsewhere. | New Republic.

marlene mountain ii

being while female

–marlene mountain
oct 30 2013

A Room of My Own: Alienation, by Chen-ou Liu (劉鎮歐) / NeverEnding Story

A Room of My Own: Alienation

At daybreak, I wake up from a recurring dream: I ride the Mongol horse through the snowy fields deeper into the unknown world of one color.

a bowl of congee

next to a cup of coffee . . .

exile and after

Can I find out now what A thought of me? Why did L stand before I, blocking the sky on Canada Day? And what did E want to be added to? At last . . . will my being mean anything for N or for the rest of the word?

Chen-ou Liu (劉鎮歐)

Published in Diogen, September 2012

NeverEnding Story: A Room of My Own: Alienation.

The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot by Robert Macfarlane: review – Telegraph

The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot by Robert Macfarlane: review – Telegraph.

Josef Albers, Homage to the Square / aus unruhigen Träumen

aus unruhigen Träumen.

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

From the Next Room

Sometimes I am in
another room of my self.
Closing a door
behind me,
Bending toward
the window light
the breathing of
big and little beings
sound their quiet gong before me

To them I bring
this throated gourd of language
offered to a wren’s nest
there, stitched into a tree

to an old woman’s forehead
tipped towards the ground
to a sudden skittering
of leaves
where there were none

to the weightless amber body
of a worker bee pinned in
the corner of this window screen
by dust, and
nudged by the plain

omniscient air, which
by itself
can make the mind wander
to your own weightlessness
to your pinned in native tongue
to your own eye
and the door knob at the center

My hand is on the door knob
It is not easy to make the turn
for both am I here and am I going
following the quiet bells of being
singing of almost anything at all

Donna Fleischer
from
Intimate Boundaries 1991