Log In
mythology
Connecting
Combined ShapeCreated with Sketch.
mythology24 Sep
5 views
When the cold front came, all the leaves went limp. That was that—no more white flies on the patio, one bloom still curled tightly in its calyx, its promise of color fading. Yet there’s nothing like a radio in a room without tables or chairs—the way music can furnish our lives with something. A cracked clay pot holds the door open as you pack up your belongings in boxes that have lost their stiffness, move after move after move, leaving more behind each year, a flower swaying on its stem in a silent dance. It doesn’t matter what was playing all these years, w h at more could you want than this—to travel as light as possible? Leave me in this house as evening washes over us. -Timothy Liu, “A Killing Frost”

mythology24 Sep
3 views

mythology24 Sep
3 views
Maxime Bondu, The Challenger, 2015

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views
Vladimir Mayakovsky‘s ROSTA poster, Russia

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views
Every act of perception, is to some degree an act of creation, and every act of memory is to some degree an act of imagination. — Oliver Sacks, Musicophilia

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology24 Sep
4 views

mythology4 Oct
5 views

mythology7 Oct
5 views

mythology7 Oct
5 views

mythology9 Oct
7 views
I’m learning so many different ways to be quiet. There’s how I stand in the lawn, that’s one way. There’s also how I stand in the field across from the street, that’s another way because I’m farther from people and therefore more likely to be alone. There’s how I don’t answer the phone, and how I sometimes like to lie down on the floor in the kitchen and pretend I’m not home when people knock. There’s daytime silent where I stare, and a nighttime silent when I do things. There’s shower silent and bath silent and California silent and Kentucky silent and car silent and then there’s the silence that comes back, a million times bigger than me, sneaks into my bones and wails and wails and wails until I can’t be quiet anymore. That’s how this machine works. — Ada Limon, “The Quiet Machine” from Bright Dead Things

mythology9 Oct
12 views

mythology9 Oct
14 views

mythology14 Oct
14 views


mythology14 Oct
28 views
Men’s voices in the dark —once in a temple— men’s voices in the sun —once I was caryatid number nine— men’s voices in the park —I was a statue untouchable naked with no other mirror than the fingers of the air yielding to thought after thought with no other sadness than the rustling of leaves— men’s voices in the park: why did they waken me? -Inger Christensen, ”from Light: Men’s Voices”

mythology14 Oct
28 views

mythology14 Oct
28 views
Henri Rousseau. Indian Fighting a Jaguar. 1910.

mythology31 Oct
12 views

mythology31 Oct
11 views
Color is not a trivial subject but one that has compelled, for hundreds of years, a passionate curiosity in the greatest artists, philosophers, and natural scientists. The young Spinoza wrote his first treatise on the rainbow; the young Newton’s most joyous discovery was the composition of white light; Goethe’s great color work, like Newton’s, started with a prism; Schopenhauer, Young, Helmholtz, and Maxwell, in the last century, were all tantalized by the problem of color; and Wittgenstein’s last work was his Remarks on Colour. And yet most of us, most of the time, overlook its great mystery. Oliver Sacks

mythology31 Oct
18 views
Okada Baison, A Swallow in the Rain

mythology31 Oct
18 views
That was the summer we had so many clouds we didn’t know what to do with them. They overflowed the sky – they were on our streets, in our homes, in our drawers, and in our cabinets. They were in our cars and in our buses, I even saw them in taxis…They cast long shadows in an unearthly light. Some were blue, some were gray, some black, some white, some were pink, some were lavender, some orange, some a ghastly purple. All cast a trance and silence upon us… -Mary Ruefle, “Among the Clouds”

mythology7 Nov
12 views
Because you used to leaf through the dictionary, Casually, as someone might in a barber shop, and Devotedly, as someone might in a sanctuary, Each letter would still have your attention if not For the responsibilities life has tightly fit, like Gears around the cog of you, like so many petals Hinged on a daisy. That’s why I’ll just use your Initial. Do you know that in one treasured story, a Jewish ancestor, horseback in the woods at Yom Kippur, and stranded without a prayer book, Looked into the darkness and realized he had Merely to name the alphabet to ask forgiveness— No congregation of figures needed, he could speak One letter at a time because all of creation Proceeded from those. He fed his horse, and then Quietly, because it was from his heart, he Recited them slowly, from aleph to tav. Within those Sounds, all others were born, all manner of Trials, actions, emotions, everything needed to Understand who he was, had been, how flaws Venerate the human being, how aspirations return Without spite. Now for you, may your wife’s X-ray return with good news, may we raise our Zarfs to both your names in the Great Book of Life. -Jessica Greenbaum, “A Poem for S.”

mythology7 Nov
15 views
August Natterer, My Eyes At the Time of Revelation, 1911-1913

mythology7 Nov
18 views

mythologyThu
7 views

Log in or create account