But now, Dorothy wondered: What was failure? What was success? Ribbons swirling in a cold tank. Life was not a story that ended on a resolution or a revelation. It was like this puppet show—a gentle, ongoing state of ups and downs that contained moments of illusory transcendence and ultimately built to nothing, no epiphanies, or so many epiphanies that they ran together and were forgotten. Maybe it breathed like a paper flower, expanding and contracting. Maybe it was something you did just to pass the time.
— Christine Smallwood, The LIfe of the Mind (Hogarth, March 2, 2021)
Photo: Lily
Picture and text harmonise well. We like such abstract pictures.
Thanks for sharing 🙏🙏
🐣🐣🐣🐣 Happy Easter 🐣🐣🐣🐣
The Fab Four of Cley
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
Thank you Klausbernd.
Wow, jumping into the week with both feet, aren’t we? Need another cup of coffee for this one…😉
Smiling. We are! (After extended weekend)
Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
“Like a puppet show … Maybe it breathed like a paper flower, expanding and contracting. Maybe it was something you did just to pass the time.” — Christine Smallwood, The LIfe of the Mind (Hogarth, March 2, 2021).
i’ve often felt like i’ve been in some sort of ongoing, fluid, broadway production, ever doing improv, some acts better than others, sometimes 3 shows a day, vaudeville, never sure exactly how and when it will end, but knowing that it will have its run and then the lights will go dark on my show.
Beautiful. I can feel that, but couldn’t describe it as beautifully as you have. Let the show go on.
Perfectly put, Beth!
What Beth said — though sometimes there’s a bit of Tess of the D’Ubrevilles thrown in just to up the drama quotient!
Tess of the D’Ubreville! I had to google that!