Approaching Storm , P.M. Rush Hour, N.J. Route 24, 8/8/2018

Ten thousand miles

Between us

Threads of photons

Connect us

Streams of heart words

Inspire us

Unsought blessings

Enmesh us.

@soulreserve

My Australian Muse and I are reading the words of you and sealanehill to each other. She stops and says, "Oh Adam, I think they're like us". I don't really have anything to ask, but I think it's worth saying.

aww <3 thank you for that.

Well, I am learning a lot from @sealanehill and it’s a friendship I enjoy.There is much musing involved, sure :P

“The older I get, the more intense is my interest in the various ways and forms in which light appears in nature. I am amazed, I learn from that, and I am aware that it is the light of the sun that illuminates the buildings I envision. I hold spaces, materials, textures, colors, surfaces, and shapes up to the light of the sun; I capture this light, reflect it, filter it, screen it off; I thin it out to create a luster in the right spot. Light as an agent, I’m familiar with it. But when I really start thinking about it, I understand hardly anything.”

— Peter Zumthor, Thinking Architecture

Always incredible to witness something like this. Shoutout to everyone that pulled an all nighter to see this. Captured just outside of Wichita, Kansas.

Digital Play #2: Sappho Awaits Her Goddess, Aphrodite: “… if only I, O goldencrowned Aphrodite, / could win this lot…” [Anne Carson, _If Not, Winter_; #33, Knopf, 2002]. 11/26/2017.

Equation of Time, I : Miriam

A relative posted a Facebook album of photos from “Maya: The Exhibition” at the Cincinnati Museum Center about a month ago. My talented wife drew a sketch from one of the photos, a limestone bas relief depicting a Mayan ruler. I used her sketch to make a drypoint plate. More pictures and way more text here: https://www.facebook.com/100001518747937/posts/3652551284805460/.

Ma confiance dans la poésie est sans limite. Elle est seule capable de me consoler de l’horreur du monde.

Dany Laferrière

(via mignonne-allons-voir-si-la-rose)

Sheets of tulle drift down

Beneath bright sky, wind shivers branches

New snow cascades free

(c) Sealanehill, 2017

Parvati

I see her from afar, Sitting alone in the early day, Tracing gossamer thoughts And hearing the whispers Of her heart. Her muse is the One Who is not there, The One who is Inaccessible, Yet whose presence Is so real that He stirs the deepest passion Of her womanly soul. Thoughts shape images, Murmurs, words And she sings Of smoke and fire, Incandescent and all-consuming, Of drink so concentrated One sip intoxicates. I listen, taken by her music Toward her heart’s Center, Hoping for invisibility, That my presence not Disturb her muse, Hoping to be unseen By her consort, Shiva, Should he return While she is in her Bliss. ©sealanehill, 2017 For @soulreserve

NYC near 125th St., 7/28/2018. Especially for @soulreserve