Category Archives: beauty

 

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living, I want to know what you ache for. It doesn’t interest me how old you are, I want to know if you are willing to risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine. It doesn’t interest me where you live or how rich you are, I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and be sweet to the ones you love. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and truly like the company you keep in the empty moments of your life.

– Jon Blais

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I told him,
I feel my boy
moving,
making himself
Known.
I try,
to listen
to sense,
to understand his breadth
You,
though,
were not
noticed,
heard,
sought for
when it mattered
Most.
Hot,
droplets tumbled
over
as I imagined
not seeing
Him
even if he
pushed,
looked away
or said foolish words.
Hot,
droplets tumbled over
as I imagined you
lacking language,
other than
your speaking eyes,
in emptiness
Alone.

Will you accept,
my tears?
Will he?
You leave,
with the wrinkles,
still wrinkled.
Eyes trying,
to not listen,
to not sense,
to not understand your breadth
And,
this becomes my crucible:
to noisily seek and capture,
forcing you to touch my tears
Or
to trust the love I was given
to give and gave,
and wait.

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Filed under beauty, poetry

 

So the skin is the greatest organ of learning (Montagu, 211), even in a spiritual sense. Our language still betrays these connections. We are ‘grasped’– we ‘grasp’. We cannot grasp what does not grasp us. Or we ‘grasp’ only in a grasping, violent sense. Those who keep alive their bodies, their feelings, their skin as levels of communication will find it difficult to fall victim to an abstract ‘grasping’, but will constantly retain bodily thought.

In touching we experience the world and one another. In today’s ecological ethics the skin and the sense of touch associated with it become unusually important. ‘As I touch, so I am touched’ (Meyer-Abich, 252). Experience of self and experience of nature coincide. The Western self bids farewell to manipulation and exposes itself to new experiences.

The most intense form of touch takes place in love. Unadorned skin also allows love to be experienced again. A French feminist has said: ‘We have so often used cosmetics to please him that we have forgotten our skin. Outside our skins we remain far from ourselves. You and I far from one another.’

From the first day to the last day, touching (*the healthy kind) is experienced as assurance, confirmation of the self and healing.

-Elisabeth Moltmann-Wendel, I Am My Body: a theology of embodiment

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Filed under beauty, memento vivere

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A new video by Vincent Haycock using Florence and her song, Lover to Lover. He wanted to explore her acting capabilities, my I would too. The ending is the best.

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Filed under Anger, beauty, musica

You are still new, my love. I do not know you,

Stranger beside me in the dark of bed,

Dreaming dreams I cannot ever enter,

Eyes closed in that unknown, familiar head.

Who are you? who have thrust and entered

My very being, penetrated so that now

I can never again be wholly separate,

Bound by shared living to this unknown thou.

I do not know you, nor do you know me,

And yet we know each other in the way

Of our primordial forebears in the garden.

Adam knew Eve. As we do, so did they.

They; we; forever strangers: austere, but true.

And Yet I would not change it. You are still new.

-Madeleine L’Engle

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Longing

Bury me, bury me try as you might

But I will keep yearning,

until the dawn is night

And night is dawn

And dawn is night

Your soil gives me feeling

instead of intended fright.

Bury me, bury me try as you might.

This film is one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen, go rent it.

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