“The Divine Is Not Human; It Is Something Quite Different. And It Is Not Noble Or Sublime Or Spiritualized,

02.10.2020 “I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” -Anne of Green Gables, LM Montgomery

“I prefer to express myself metaphorically. Let me stress: metaphorically, not symbolically. A symbol contains within itself a definite meaning, certain intellectual formula, while metaphor is an image. An image possessing the same distinguishing features as the world it represents. An image — as opposed to a symbol — is indefinite in meaning. One cannot speak of the infinite world by applying tools that are definite and finite. We can analyse the formula that constitutes a symbol, while metaphor is a being-within-itself, it’s a monomial. It falls apart at any attempt of touching it.”

— Andrei Tarkovsky

“—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

— John Keats, excerpt of “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”, in John Keats: The Complete Poems

And so at last I climbed the honey tree, ate chunks of pure light, ate the bodies of bees that could not get out of my way, ate the dark hair of the leaves, the rippling bark, the heartwood. Such frenzy! But joy does that, I’m told, in the beginning. Later, maybe, I’ll come here only sometimes and with a middling hunger. But now I climb like snake, I clamber like a bear to the nuzzling place, to the light salvaged by the thighs of bees and racked up in the body of the tree. Oh, anyone can see how I love myself at last! how I love the world! climbing by day or night in the wind, in the leaves, kneeling at the secret rip, the cords of my body stretching and singing in the heaven of appetite.

The Honey Tree by Mary Oliver

Breakfast of champions 🌼

Dark Academia concept 

Source: jessica-roux.com

“How I linger to admire, admire, admire the things of this world that are kind, and maybe also troubled— roses in the wind, the sea geese on the steep waves, a love to which there is no reply?”

— Mary Oliver, from Heavy in “Thirst: Poems by Mary Oliver”

“She is still on her balcony green flesh, her hair green, dreaming in the bitter sea.”

— Federico Garcia Lorca (via dulcedenaranjas)