the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary

Vocabulary, Safia Elhillo

« - Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?
 -  Je sais pas. C’est juste ma tête, elle n’arrête pas.
 - Imagine… t’es un tout petit bébé canard. Tu viens de sortir de ton œuf. Tu viens d’ouvrir les yeux pour la première fois. Tout les canards sont jaunes. Et toi, t’es jaune, mais beaucoup plus beau que les autres. T’es spécial. » 
*Il sourit *

Mary Szybist, Incarnadine

Mary Szybist, Incarnadine

Eadweard J. Muybridge ca 1884 - 1887

“What would happen if you did just shut a door and stop speaking? Hour after hour after hour of no words. Would you speak to yourself? Would words just stop being useful? Would you lose language altogether? Or would words mean more, would they start to mean in every direction, all somersault and assault, like a thuggery of fireworks? Would they proliferate, like untended plantlife? Would the inside of your head overgrow with every word that has ever come into it, every word that has ever silently taken seed or fallen dormant? Would your own silence make other things noisier? Would all the things you’d ever forgotten, all layered there inside you, come bouldering up and avalanche you?”

— Ali Smith, There But For The

happy "everyone forgets that icarus also flew" monday. i want to throw up !

Nevil Maskelyne, First filmed eclipse. 1900

Solar eclipse filmed on 28 May, 1900 by a famous magician, Nevil Maskelyne , while on an expedition by The British Astronomical Association to North Carolina. In 1898 he travelled to India to photograph an eclipse. He succeeded but the film can was stolen

Audrey Hu for Victor x Wang

Unknown, Love Token for Sarah Newlin, with Envelope, 1799

I really like the word “smitten”. because at first glance you just think of sappy lovey-dovey stuff but also you have to remember this is a word that’s born of the word “smite.” a devastating word. a word that, summarized, means stricken. smitten means stricken as well — struck with devastating affection.

James Wright, from “A Blessing”, Above the River: The Complete Poems and Selected Prose

Robyn, still-born among wildflowers and flint, and the Sun will return her to the sky, like a dazzling, burning bird. by Judith Nangala Crispin.

In memory of beloved Alba (08.04.2008-13.02.2024).

“And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.”

― Kurt Vonnegut Jr., A Man Without a Country

Marcin Ryczek, A Man Feeding Swans in the Snow

Wilson Bentley, Snowflakes, 1902

Wikimedia