14 February 2013

an old love song

(Source: brian-vu.com)
You are curved like the ring that I have worn around my finger for seven years. I feel naked when you are not wrapped around me, and lonely when you are forgotten. You are not beautiful but you hold all the meaning of my life, and no matter how distracted I get, you hold on.

If you were a straight line, I might understand you better; see all of you at once instead of daily circling you for mistakes. But I would never think of what you could be, and have come to know your cracks and crevices well, like distant mountains and dried riverbeds that sigh under the weight of childhood memories. You are strong and never waiver, even when the pressure I put on you is great. You are the heaviest part of my hand, which is the heaviest part of my body. It has too much freedom to commit, too much opportunity to destroy. So I sit and admire you daily for your ability to exist with conscious, unlimited choice and chance, and think of how lucky I am that, despite the universe’s offerings, you have chosen to stay close to me.

You are in front of me and inside of me, disguised as an old thought, a reminder of the wonder of my heart’s ancient past. You hint at what will give me meaning when I am old and dying. You are the happiness of repetition, a memory, a possibility.

12 December 2012

Oriol Angrill Jorda
I saw a woman sleeping. In her sleep she dreamed Life stood before her, and held in each hand a gift—in the one Love, in the other Freedom. And she said to the woman, “Choose!” And the woman waited long: and she said, “Freedom!” And Life said, “Thou has well chosen. If thou hadst said, ‘Love,’ I would have given thee that thou didst ask for; and I would have gone from thee, and returned to thee no more. Now, the day will come when I shall return. In that day I shall bear both gifts in one hand. - Olive Schreiner

09 November 2012

life's too short

I have been in love more times than one. Sometimes it was lasting whether active or not. Sometimes it was all but ephemeral, maybe only an afternoon, but not less real for that. They stay in my mind, these beautiful people, or anyway people beautiful to me, of which there are so many. You, and you, and you, whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe missed. Love, love, love, it was the core of my life, from which, of course, comes the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned that some of them were men and some were women and some - now carry my revelation with you - were trees. Or places. Or music flying above the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun which was the first, and the best, the most loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into my eyes, every morning. So I imagine such love of the world - its fervency, its shining, its innocence and hunger to give of itself - I imagine this is how it began.
-Mary Oliver

17 February 2012

gallery love: Sebastian Foster - Austin, Texas

Betsy Walton

Sebastian Foster is an Austin based gallery that operates a studio and print publishing workshop, and they have some of the best curated art selection I've seen that appeals to my taste in contemporary art and design. A lot of the artists they represent are Portland-based: Ruth ShivelyTrish GranthamEvan B. Harris,  Betsy Walton,  Lisa GolightlyAmy Ruppel, Amanda Blake. My love of place influences my appreciation of and draws me to the art that was inspired by it. 

A few of my favorites: 

Lisa Golightly
Betsy Walton
Evan B. Harris
Amanda Blake