car broken.
camera gone.
sad day.
goodbyes suck.
i will miss you little nikon friend! 
Saturday, March 27, 2010
mourning the loss.
honey&
miel.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
[pik-tawr-ee-uhl, -tohr-ee-uhl] –adjective 4. having or suggesting the visual appeal or imagery of a picture: a pictorial metaphor.
The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.
Alice Meynell [British poet and essayist, 1847–1922] “The True Colour of Life,” Essays (1914)
Alice Meynell [British poet and essayist, 1847–1922] “The True Colour of Life,” Essays (1914)
[[[AMOR EST VITAE ESSENTIA]]]
[mar-oh]
- January 2011 (1)
- November 2010 (1)
- October 2010 (3)
- September 2010 (4)
- July 2010 (19)
- June 2010 (3)
- May 2010 (5)
- April 2010 (5)
- March 2010 (9)
- February 2010 (15)
- January 2010 (23)
- December 2009 (20)
- November 2009 (13)
- October 2009 (22)
- September 2009 (17)
- August 2009 (26)
- July 2009 (25)
- June 2009 (16)
- May 2009 (20)
- April 2009 (13)
- March 2009 (27)
- February 2009 (20)
- January 2009 (48)
- December 2008 (42)
- November 2008 (80)
- October 2008 (62)
- September 2008 (99)
- August 2008 (74)
- July 2008 (99)
- June 2008 (26)
- May 2008 (31)
- April 2008 (64)
- March 2008 (80)
- February 2008 (25)
- January 2008 (19)
- December 2007 (33)
- November 2007 (34)
"We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger."
T. S. Eliot's The Cocktail Party
T. S. Eliot's The Cocktail Party
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
— Emily Dickinson
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
— Emily Dickinson
I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
No comments:
Post a Comment