My five year old daughter noted yesterday, upon hearing my father [her grandfather] had died: So both your mom and your dad are skeletons now.
william cheselden osteographia 1733 from likeafieldmouse@tumblr
STYLITE (fragment #10)
Go into the desert sometime
climb a pole & sit up there
for thirty-eight years or so
until the faithful start to call you a saint.
Spend your days waiting for pilgrims
bearing olives & bread, a jar of water
balanced on a woman’s head
the dipper like the tongue of a forgotten bell.
Go to the desert for half your life
then see if God doesn’t find the time.
[Nick Flynn, from Some Ether, 2000]
"To me, a mystery is like a magnet. Whenever there is something that’s unknown, it has a pull to it. If you were in a room and there was an open doorway, and stairs going down and the light just fell away, you’d be very tempted to go down there. When you only see a part, it’s even stronger than seeing the whole. The whole might have a logic, but out of its context, the fragment takes on a tremendous value of abstraction. It can become an obsession." — David Lynch, Lost Highway
reblogged from strangewood.tumblr