November 2009
5 posts
Apple Art →
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventures of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the...
Sometimes its as if I am knowing you anew… I see you, I know you, I know the way you feel, but I look upon you and learn more of who you are, another layer of yourself. I glimpse who you might be in old age, who you were as a boy. I learn anew the way your mind works. I wonder if you know it like I do, if I see you as you see yourself, or if I see a different version, one you already knew,...
I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every hour holy.
I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough
just to stand before you like a thing, dark and shrewd,
I want my will, and I want to be with my will
as it moves towards deed;
and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times,
when something is approaching,
I want to be with those who are wise
or else alone.
I...
October 2009
5 posts
“‘In prison, lights were out by eight o’clock. We’d each tell a...”
– from Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese
“A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for...”
– from The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck
“I have always felt that the action most worth watching is not at the center of...”
– from The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman