matter

maxwanger

You may not believe in magic
But don’t you think it’s strange
The amount of matter in our universe
Has never slightly changed.
That all which makes your body
Was once part of something more
And every breath you ever breathe
Has seen it all before.
There are countless scores of beauty
In all the things that you despise
It could once have been a shooting star
That now makes up your thighs.
And atoms of forgotten life
Who’ve long since ceased to roam
May now have the great honour
To call your crooked smile their home.
You may not believe in magic
But I thought that you should know
The makings of your heart were born
Fourteen billion years ago.
So the next time you feel lonely
When this world makes you feel small
Just remember that it’s part of you
And you’re part of it all.

ERIN HANSON

Photo: Max Wanger

Categories: art, words
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remembering

paiko

“Long walks are off, and alas, bathing in the sea; fillet steaks and apples and raw blackberries (teeth difficulties) and reading fine print. But there is a great deal left. Operas and concerts, and reading, and the enormous pleasure of dropping into bed and going to sleep, and dreams of every variety. Almost best of all, sitting in the sun–gently drowsing and there you are again–remembering.

I remember, I remember, the house where I was born….”

AGATHA CHRISTIE, An Autobiography

Categories: home, words
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be the rain

when there’s nothing
left to burn, be the rain
who brings everything good
back to life

PAVANA

Categories: words
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“sweet darkness”

When your eyes are tired the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to recognize its own.

There you can be sure you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb tonight.

The night will give you a horizon further than you can see.

You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn

anything or anyone that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

DAVID WHYTE, The House of Belonging

Categories: words
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