Posts Tagged ‘ death ’

The Essential Mundanity of Grief | Hazlitt

I don’t know where or when I learned that I needed to curb any narcissistic tendency I might feel, even in grieving, but I most certainly caught on quick.

Source: The Essential Mundanity of Grief | Hazlitt

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

from  James Agee, “A Death in the Family” | Mythology of Blue

And somewhat as in blind night, on a mild sea, a sailor may be made aware of an iceberg, fanged and mortal, bearing invisibly near, by the unwarned charm of its breath, nothingness now revealed itself: that permanent night upon which the stars in their expiring generations are less than the glinting of gnats, and nebulae, more trivial than winter breath; that darkness in which eternity lies bent and pale, a dead snake in a jar, and infinity is the sparkling of a wren blown out to sea; that inconceivable chasm of invulnerable silence in which cataclysms of galaxies rave mute as amber.

— James Agee, A Death in the Family

Mythology of Blue : And somewhat as in blind night, on a mild sea, a….

A Longhouse Birdhouse: HAVE A GOOD LONG LOOK ~

Cecil the lion is seen at Hwange National Parks

A Longhouse Birdhouse: HAVE A GOOD LONG LOOK ~.

Cecil of Hwange National Parks

life’s gift
nothing more
nothing less

just enough
when it’s felt
through and through

something the killer
could not do

with love,
Donna Fleischer
August 11, 2015

* – There is illness and injury which has produced a…

not writing.

* – There is illness and injury which has produced a….

Grieving in the Time of Lulz | Full Stop

Edward Hopper “Summer Interior”

Grieving in the Time of Lulz | Full Stop.

A Longhouse Birdhouse: ALEJANDRA PIZARNIK ~

Alejandra Pizarnik

(1936-1972)

MORTAL TIES

     A single thought cast out words like lifelines at sea. Making love

inside our embrace implied a black light: a darkness that started

gleaming. A rediscovered light, twice extinguished already, yet more

vibrant than a thousand suns. The color of a mausoleum for infants,

the deadened hues of repressed desire, opened up in the savage

room. The rhythm of our bodies disguised the flight of the ravens.

The rhythm of our bodies carved out a space of light inside that light.

A Longhouse Birdhouse: ALEJANDRA PIZARNIK ~.