Under the yonder, I searched for my name in a blue
book. The pages were doors without knobs or keyholes, yet,
because blue comforts the eyes, the tome opened up to me.
Suddenly I had a taste for blue; it depicted the impossible.
For both Greeks & Romans there was no blue in the rainbow,
but here, by sunlight, the most audacious sapphire. And so
I forsook the allure of verdigris, cochineal, & mulberry
& walked to the river where, having polluted the water, the dyers
waited for it to clear. Rather than tinctures, a miraculous
draft of fishes came up with their buckets. But this was
not the end, nor the beginning, of my faraway look away.
-L.S. Klatt, Blackbird
Clarissa Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
(photo by Oleg Oprisco)
He made warmth in a world of cold. She made color in a world of grey
I am not quite certain, but I think that this gorgeous landscape is from this Japanese artist
rt Carried Away
“Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping narrative. There’s magic in that. It’s in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift. Your sister may be able to see the future, but you yourself can shape it, boy. Do not forget that… there are many kinds of magic, after all.”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus