Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

Mammals and birds have hearts with four chambers. Reptiles and turtles have hearts with three chambers. Fish have hearts with two chambers. Insects and mollusks have hearts with one chamber. Worms have hearts with one chamber, although they may have as many as eleven single-chambered hearts. Unicellular bacteria have no hearts at all; but even they have fluid eternally in motion, washing from one side of the cell to the other, swirling and whirling. No living being is without interior liquid motion. We all churn inside.

Brian Doyle, from “Joyas Voladoras” The American Scholar, March 20, 2022


Photos: Lukas Souza in Foz do Iguaçu, Brasil

Trees and water. Simple and beautiful. Beautiful and simple.

The water had been so cold. Its coldness seemed to spread not only from my throat and into my thorax, but also from the cavity of my mouth and into my head. But it was a different coldness than was in the air. This one was pleasant, as if smoothing and enfolding. And what was inside me became clearer to me, too. My heart beating with such simple beauty. The blood streaming to every part of my body. Yes, the blood streaming, the heart beating, and the emotions too, likewise of such simple beauty, diffusing in a different way from the blood, moving more like shadows on the ground when the sun passed behind a cloud, suddenly to re-emerge, flooding everything, first in one way, which was joy, then in another, which was sadness. And all as the heart beat and beat. And the trees grew, the water ran, the moon shone, the sun burned. The heart and the blood. Joy and sadness. Trees and water. Simple and beautiful. Beautiful and simple.

Karl Ove Knausgaard, The Morning Star: A Novel. (Martin Aitken, Translator.) (Penguin Press, September 28, 2021)


Notes:

Saturday Morning

My desert cactus has five spindly branches spread untidily in the pot. Each time I water that cactus I wonder why. I see no progress in how it looks; I water it all the same along with the other potted plants around it. It maintains a nonchalant brownish, greenish, and trace of yellow that appears anemic, as if on the verge of turning brown all over and withering up, if not for my regular water. Once afternoon, I pass it and what catches my eye makes me stop in my tracks and look again at the source of that stimulus. There on the end of one of the five tentacles of the cactus is an enormous flower, yellow with dozens of bristling stamens, and layers inside like a catacomb in miniature. I take photos with my phone, I call everyone from the house to come and see the miracle of a flower where I thought no such thing could occur. Thank goodness I kept watering that cactus after I dismissed it as ugly and unproductive or at least unresponsive to my care of it. The cactus flower proves me wrong. Nothing else in the garden comes near that flower’s majesty. By evening it shrivels and lies limp on the end of the thin branch of cactus. Next morning I give it an extra drink and apologize to it, and encourage my dear, ugly, surprising cactus to keep on doing whatever it does and to ignore me.

—  Fred D’Aguiar, Year of Plagues: A Memoir of 2020 (Harper, August 3, 2021)


Photo: Mike Grant, Desert Bloom, Phoenix, AZ

Lightly Child, Lightly.

If we are separated I will
try to wait for you
on your side of things

your side of the wall and the water
and of the light moving at its own speed
even on leaves that we have seen
I will wait on one side

while a side is there

W.S. Merwin,Travelling Together”  from The Rain in the Trees


Notes:

  • Poem via adrasteiax. Photo: By Margarita (via seemoreandmore)
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

 

Saturday Morning


Daybreak. December 5, 2020. 7:30 am. 41° F.  Heavy Rain. Cove Island Park, Stamford CT

Saturday Morning

4-57


Daybreak. Egret. 4:57 & 4:59 am. June 27, 2020. 67° F. Humidity 81%. Wind: 2 mph. Gusts: 3 mph. Cloud Cover: 29%. Weed Avenue, Stamford, CT

T.G.I.F.: Silver Lining


Eva Creel (Hirschau, Bayern, Germany) with Silver Lining. “Underwater above and somewhere in between. I’m a photographer. My goal is to suck a little less with every shoot.”

Undermining the Ground Beneath Our Feet


Notes:

And isn’t the whole point of things – beautiful things – that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images that crack your heart wide open


Notes:

  • Photo: Reiko Takahashi documented these dolphins near Mikurajima, Japan. She writes that they had “been floating for a long time staying close together.” National Geographic (August 2, 2019)
  • Post Title: “Only – if you care for a thing enough, it takes on a life of its own, doesn’t it? And isn’t the whole point of things – beautiful things – that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images that crack your heart wide open and you spend the rest of your life chasing, or trying to recapture, in one way or another?” — Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch (via Beth @ Alive on All Channels, always an inspiration.)

Everything I touch, is born.


Notes:

Hope. And Hopeless.

Hope…and,

[Read more…]

But what is Hope?

“A Somali girl displaced by drought wears a pair of mock spectacles cut out from a cardboard box as she carries her brother around a camp just outside of Mogadishu. Somalia’s drought is threatening three million lives.”


Notes:

  • Inspired by: “But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence.” by Lord Byron
  • Photo: Farah Abdi Warsameh, AP, wsj.com, March 28, 2017

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (Draw Water. Carry Wood.)

firewood

The ordinary moments of our daily life may appear commonplace, but in reality they are not so; they carry enormous significance. To polish a pair of shoes, to serve a helping of apple pie, to break bread, to chop firewood- these can be lordly activities. Any action performed with a sense of reverence, of care and of pleasure, can become what I would call a sacrament. Zen, in particular, lays emphasis on ‘everyday life’ as the real path to the great mystery. One of its Masters, Joshu, replied to a question about the true nature of the Great Way, the Tao, by saying, “Our everyday life, that is the Tao.” It is the worship of the moment’s duration, inviolate, detached, and passionate. It is the observation of the sunlight on a bald of grass, the sight of a beetle crawling across a leaf; the worship of the day’s most commonplace events:

I draw water,
I carry wood,
This is my magic.

~ John Lane, from the “Art of Commonplace” in The Spirit of Silence

 


Quote: Thank you Make Believe Boutique. Photo: tapioanttilacollection

 

Lightly child, lightly.

fall-float-autumn-swim-relax

Then you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides over you without shape or form, exactly like water. Its color is silver. And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it. The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking. Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words, the blindness of its light.

Anne Spollen, The Shape of Water.


Notes:

  • Photo: Andrea Dabene
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

 

 

The DroneScape: Outback SA

outback-south-australia

Drone shot over the Outback in South Australia.

Don’t miss Gabriel Scanu’s other amazing shots at Fubiz Media: Amazing Drone Landscape Photography.

Find his website here: Gabe. And his Instagram site here: Gab Scanu


Source: This Isn’t Happiness

 

WaterPassion

kuntze-photography-yellow-swimming-water

Kerstin Kuntze, 50, is from Cologne, Germany. She is an artist who uses photography melded with graphic infusion.  She explains in Saatchi Art:

“…and most of all it’s about passion. Picture making has always been an internal compulsion; my first urges began as a child, “I was always drawing” – these impulses continuing through to the present. My search for the internal brilliance of subject matter drives me. My artwork displays a wide range of emotions embodying colors from darkest black to fieriest red. I sincerely desire that my passion and the intensities of my emotion will be conveyed through visual creations touching you in a personal way. There are a myriad of reasons to create – this quest has become my life.

Don’t miss her entire series: WaterPassionº

 

Let’s just say: “Oh”

meat-water-vegan-vegetarian


I had to validate. I did.  See water.usgs.gov for fact check.

And this “theme” has been top of mind following a passage I read in Elizabeth Strout’s new book:

I asked if my brother had a job. “He has no job,” my mother said. “He spends the night with any animal that will be killed the next day.” I asked her what she had said, and she repeated what she had said. She added, “He goes into the Pedersons’ barn, and he sleeps next to the pigs that will be taken to slaughter.”

~ Elizabeth Strout, My Name Is Lucy Barton


Source: Thepoetoaster

Riding Metro North. Floating above it all.

art-light-gabriel-dawe

I’m walking across town on 47th street to catch Metro North.  Times Square bursts to illuminate the light drizzle falling between the skyscrapers.  It’s 48° F, cool, but comfortable for the first day of December. There’s plenty of time to catch the evening train. I’m a victim of a poor night’s sleep and a long day but I float above it all – above fatigue, above the snarled commuter traffic and I welcome the soft, evening rain. This day is done. This tank is empty. There’s nothing left to do but let it fall.

Fragments from my morning reading of Clarice Lispector’s book parachute in…now the rain has stopped. It’s just cold and feels good…The days melt into one another, merge to form one whole block, a big anchor. Her gaze starts evoking a deep well. Dark and silent water…

I take my seat. Rain drops bead on my shoes and mar the morning shine. Floating, watching it from above, the rain water slides down the side of my shoe. [Read more…]

Lightly child, lightly

gif-float-water-swimming

I let it go.
It’s like swimming against the current.
It exhausts you.
After a while, whoever you are,
you just have to let go,
and the river brings you home.

Joanne Harris, Five Quarters of the Orange 


Notes:

  • Credit: Quote – Sweet Senderipity. Image Source: mennyfox55
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Water Colors

Japan,photography,

Check out Toshio Shibata’s Mesmerizing Photographs of Water in a slide show of 12 photographs.


%d bloggers like this: