@sanctorium.bsky.social
photography, writing
header: Alice Oswald, Falling Awake
header: Alice Oswald, Falling Awake
Pinned
I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
Sylvia Plath, The Morning Song
A far sea moves in my ear.
Sylvia Plath, The Morning Song
Kristin Hersh - Your Ghost (Official Video)
YouTube video by 4AD
www.youtube.com
November 26, 2025 at 6:43 PM
wondrous dreams, day or night
November 26, 2025 at 4:58 PM
wondrous dreams, day or night
… we cast forth, walking or sleeping, phrases that are punctuated by questions.
Murmuring questions.
What are they worth? What do they say?
These are still more questions.
Blanchot, tr. Susan Hanson
Murmuring questions.
What are they worth? What do they say?
These are still more questions.
Blanchot, tr. Susan Hanson
November 26, 2025 at 3:22 PM
… we cast forth, walking or sleeping, phrases that are punctuated by questions.
Murmuring questions.
What are they worth? What do they say?
These are still more questions.
Blanchot, tr. Susan Hanson
Murmuring questions.
What are they worth? What do they say?
These are still more questions.
Blanchot, tr. Susan Hanson
There is always an analogy between nature and the imagination and possibly poetry is merely the strange rhetoric of that parallel.
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
November 26, 2025 at 11:21 AM
There is always an analogy between nature and the imagination and possibly poetry is merely the strange rhetoric of that parallel.
Wallace Stevens
Wallace Stevens
I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough? If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.
Vincent Van Gogh, The Letters
Vincent Van Gogh, The Letters
November 26, 2025 at 11:19 AM
I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough? If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.
Vincent Van Gogh, The Letters
Vincent Van Gogh, The Letters
I felt the great scream in nature.
Edvard Munch
Edvard Munch
November 26, 2025 at 11:17 AM
I felt the great scream in nature.
Edvard Munch
Edvard Munch
frog on frog
November 26, 2025 at 11:12 AM
frog on frog
of early morning
November 26, 2025 at 7:49 AM
of early morning
To be up early in winter is to wait for the light.
Tarkovsky
Tarkovsky
November 26, 2025 at 7:45 AM
To be up early in winter is to wait for the light.
Tarkovsky
Tarkovsky
good night moon and you
November 25, 2025 at 4:54 PM
good night moon and you
Do anything, but let it produce joy.
Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Whitman, Leaves of Grass
November 25, 2025 at 1:00 PM
Do anything, but let it produce joy.
Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Whitman, Leaves of Grass
the spoon rest
November 25, 2025 at 11:04 AM
the spoon rest
But let the wings take root and the roots fly.
Juan Ramón Jiménez
Juan Ramón Jiménez
November 25, 2025 at 10:53 AM
But let the wings take root and the roots fly.
Juan Ramón Jiménez
Juan Ramón Jiménez
The force of inertia acts in the domain of psychics as well as physics; any idea pushed into the popular mind with considerable force will keep on going until some opposing force--or the slow resistance of friction--stops it at last.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
November 25, 2025 at 10:51 AM
The force of inertia acts in the domain of psychics as well as physics; any idea pushed into the popular mind with considerable force will keep on going until some opposing force--or the slow resistance of friction--stops it at last.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The I, the I is what is deeply mysterious.
Wittgenstein
Wittgenstein
November 25, 2025 at 10:31 AM
The I, the I is what is deeply mysterious.
Wittgenstein
Wittgenstein
There is a life and there is a death, and there are beauty and melancholy between.
Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942
Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942
November 25, 2025 at 10:29 AM
There is a life and there is a death, and there are beauty and melancholy between.
Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942
Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942
If no one else, the dying must notice how unreal, how full of pretense, is all that we accomplish here, where nothing is allowed to be itself.
Rilke
Rilke
November 25, 2025 at 10:26 AM
If no one else, the dying must notice how unreal, how full of pretense, is all that we accomplish here, where nothing is allowed to be itself.
Rilke
Rilke
That Joyce was Svevo’s English teacher and Borges studied runes.
Ayşegül Savaş, New Yorker, October 2025
Ayşegül Savaş, New Yorker, October 2025
November 24, 2025 at 4:11 PM
That Joyce was Svevo’s English teacher and Borges studied runes.
Ayşegül Savaş, New Yorker, October 2025
Ayşegül Savaş, New Yorker, October 2025