|(Bucky backyard on 7/24/14; click image for full-screen)|
July 29, 2014
July 28, 2014
“Everyone has his own reality in which, if one is not too cautious, timid or frightened, one swims. This is the only reality there is.”
-Henry Miller, from Stand Still Like the Hummingbird (1962)
(photos: backyard, July 18th; click image for full-screen)
April 30, 2014
April 28, 2014
April 27, 2014
April 26, 2014
April 24, 2014
April 15, 2014
March 26, 2014
March 25, 2014
"As far as I could tell, I didn't mind the way the date turned out, though I started crying the next day in my car on the way to the drive-in bank."
- from "The Professor" by Lydia Davis.
March 23, 2014
"I'm beginning to lose it, you're afraid of how weak you are, that you can't get her all back into you again and now the whole thing is going out of your body and it's more in your mind than your body, the pictures come to you one by one and you look at them, some of them last longer than others, you were together in a very white clean place, a coffee house, having breakfast together, and the place is so white that against it you can see her clearly, her blue eyes, her smile the colors of her clothes, even the print of the newspaper she's reading when she's not looking up at you, the light brown and red and gold of her hair when she's got her had down reading, the brown coffee, the brown rolls, all against that white table and those white plates and silver urns and silver knives and spoons, and against that quiet of the sleepy people in that room sitting alone at their tables with just come chinking and clattering off spoons and cups in saucers and some hushed voices her voice now and then rising and falling."
-from "Break It Down" by Lydia Davis.
March 22, 2014
"She thought about the opening and closing of her eyes: that the lids lifted to reveal a scene in all its depth and light and dark that had been there all along unseen by her, nothing to her since she did not see it, and then dropped again and made all that scene unseen again, and could anytime lift and show it and anytime close and hide it, though often, lying sleepless, her eye shut, she was so alert, so racing ahead with what she was thinking, that her eyes seemed to her to be wide open behind the closed lids, bugged, glassy, staring, though staring out only into the dark back of the closed lids."
-from "Liminal: The Little Man" by Lydia Davis.
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