I I cannot begin to explain my infatuation with this movie… from the simplicity of reading a book out of doors while walking, to the misunderstandings of attraction, to the fashionable and less fashionable sides of love, the humor… the heartbreak and longing… it has possessed me body and soul…
This gallery contains 6 photos.
Come…let us live and love,
nor give a damn what sour old men say.
The sun that sets may rise again
but when our light has sunk into the earth,
it is gone forever.
Give me a thousand kisses,
then a hundred, another thousand,
and in one breath
still kiss another thousand,
O then with lips and bodies joined
many deep thousands;
so that poor fools and cuckolds (envious
even now) shall never
learn our wealth and curse us
click image for artist
Since the stars have fallen from heaven and our highest symbols have pales, a secret life holds sway in the unconscious. That is why we have psychology today, and why we speak of the unconscious. All this would be quite superfluous in an age or culture that possessed symbols. Symbols are spirit from above, and under those conditions the spirit is above too. Therefore it would be a foolish and senseless undertaking for such people to wish to experience or investigate an unconscious that contains nothing but silent, undisturbed sway of nature. Our unconscious, on the other hand, hides living water, spirit that has become nature, and that is why it is disturbed. Heaven has become for us the cosmic space of the physicians, and the divine empyrean a fair memory of things that once were. But “the heart glows,” and a secret unrest gnaws at the roots of our being.
~from The Nature and Activity of the Psyche, by C.G. Jung
click image for artist link
We are love
We find those little ways to speak to each other
to say even with subtle gestures
what the other already knows.
A spark, even after twenty years, that, too,
makes life anew, sensual,
sexual in strange ways
the light in the morning
on pale skin…
a laugh and low talking.
I many times find it hard to believe
the wedding day wasn’t yesterday.
Yet I feel the sting of so many washed up years…
many good but washed with bleach
soft and gentle and there
full of wishes and dreams that are yet to come.
Is it too late to feel renewed, rejuvenated?
Feeling this makes a mid-aged life fresh and livable.
Full of desire and bright light and fresh green trees
like the ones trying to spark in spring
in the yard
beyond the mulch and parked cars
where the lawn keepers parked their lawn mowers.
This Wit has been down for a bit, literally, in more ways than one…but my esteem is coming back, and hopefully some “witicisms” along with it. Business with life sometimes
squashes inspiration, or, when one is more inclined, it actually does the opposite, and, so
I am trying.
Upon rotten ledges and woods, your thirsty words became
Yet still -- we watched and waved, we blamed and waited.
The sky you’d painted fell,
ruined by the night.
And as it attacked in blues and blacks, we listened and heard our breathing be clean and our smoking out –
The skin-soft breeze filled the air and lured the boats in.
All image via Atelier Robert Doisneau
Man Ray photography
Street style Spring 2013, Harpers Bazaar.com photo credit: Diego Zuko
Well, my Wit friends, it is hard to believe it is nearly the end of January, 2013… with resolutions firmly toasting on the back-burner. We are in a bitter cold slump here…but I have to say, I kind of like it. When I was a kid, winters were like this every year…lakes to skate on, snow to pile up and watch melt until June, snow days home from school watching all the soaps that we’d normally miss…So I welcome the chic cold…and look forward to spring and the emerald green to come…
I love this emerald green skirt above. I had one similar years ago…in a haunting cerulean color which I fitfully ruined during a Christmas dinner when a Braciole (a stuffed meat roll covered in red sauce) took a tumble from my plate and landed in my lap. Note: silk organza does not clean easily. 2nd note: wear an apron when eating Braciole.
Incredibly green is popular this season for nails…not my cup of tea unless it’s deep and dark and almost black…
and emerald green doors…
By Theadora Brack
Celebrating the new bike lanes on the right bank in Paris, let's take a sentimental journey! Pop open a Coke, crank up Claude Debussy’s “Petite Suite,” and prepare for some bumpy late 19th century time travel along avenue Foch. This centuries-old promenading stretch is my favorite spot for gazing up at the Arc de Triomphe…
I am looking at trees
they may be one of the things I will miss
most from the earth
though many of the ones that I have seen
already I cannot remember
and though I seldom embrace the ones I see
and have never been able to speak
I listen to them tenderly
their names have never touched them
they have stood round my sleep
and when it was forbidden to climb them
they have carried me in their branches
~W. S. Merwin
This gallery contains 7 photos.
“…in dreams we put on the likeness of that more universal, truer, more eternal man dwelling in the darkness of primordial night.”
“Dreams are impartial, spontaneous products of the unconscious psyche, outside the control of the will.”
“One would do well to treat every dream as though it were a totally unknown object. Look at it from all sides, take it in your hand, carry it about with you, let you imagination play round it, and talk about it with other people.”
Dream words source: Psychological Reflections, C.G. Jung
Click images for artist links
Don’t run around this world
looking for a hole to hide in.
There are wild beasts in every cave!
If you live with mice,
the cat claws will find you.
The only real rest comes
when you’re alone with God.
Live in the nowhere that you came from,
even though you have an address here.
That’s why you see things in two ways.
Sometimes you look at a person
and see a cynical snake.
someone else see a joyful lover,
and you’re both right!
Everyone is half and half,
like the black and white ox.
Joseph looked ugly to his brothers,
and most handsome to his father.
You have eye that see from that nowhere,
and eyes that judge distances,
how high and how low.
You own two shops,
and you run back and forth.
Try to close the one that’s a fearful trap,
getting always smaller. Checkmate,
this way. Checkmate that.
Keep open the shop
where you’re not selling fishhooks anymore.
You are the free-swimming fish.
Before I knew you, truly knew you
I knew you love
The unsubtle longing of my heart
Decidedly unquiet, the passionate leaning into the
Landscape of your soul
I could hear your heart beating
Oh great impossibility made possible
Transcending all rational thought
Meant to govern such things
For the heart concerns itself little for the confines
Of propriety and reasoning…
“I don’t know what I’m looking for,” Tara responds, and for the moment her face crumples as though she might burst into tears, but then she composes herself. “Ethan, do you sometimes feel like you are dreaming, all the time?”
“No, I can’t say that I do.”
“I’m finding it difficult to discern between asleep and awake,” Tara says, tugging at her lace cuffs again. “I do not like being left in the dark. I am not particularly fond of believing in impossible things.”
Mr. Barris takes off his spectacles, wiping the lenses with a handkerchief before he replies, holding them up to the light to check for rogue smudges.
“I have seen a great many things that I might once have considered impossible, or unbelievable. I find I no longer have clearly defined parameters for such matters. I choose to do my work to the best of my own abilities, and leave others to their own.”
-from The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern
(a great book that I can’t put down…)
Happy Birthday to the Wit of the Staircase
Visit my page Folie A Deux or my Theresa Duncan category for her fascinating and sad story…
©Wilbur King III
Imagine the time the particle you are
returns where it came from!
The family darling comes home. Wine,
without being contained in cups,
is handed around.
A red glint appears in ta granite outcrop,
and suddenly the whole cliff turns to ruby.
At dawn I walked along with a monk
on his way to the monastery.
“We do the same work,”
I told him. “We suffer the same.”
He gave me a bowl.
And I saw:
the soul has this shape.
Shams, you that teach us and actual sunlight,
help me now,
being in the middle of being partly in my self,
and partly outside.
Don’t know what I’m going to do next Sunday when Walking Dead starts…hate that ABC changed this show’s time to Sundays…it was perfect on Wednesday… anyway, I’ll have to catch the dead a bit later that night on AMC…
So, just thought I’d post this picture of some of the cast looking so happy, since they never, ever smile like this on the show. What a shame. Eye candy all!
Any guilty comrades out there?