“There is a sort of stagnation in my soul. I am not disappointed, I am not tired, I am not depressed, but simply everything has suddenly become less interesting. I must do something to rouse myself.”
– Anton Chekhov, from a diary entry written c. November 1888 (via violentwavesofemotion)
Photographs from my residency in Itoshima-shi, Fukuoka :
Ella Webb
“Each face has a story.”
Visages villages (Agnès Varda & JR, 2017)
Adrienne Rich, from Poetry & Prose: Poems, Prose, Reviews and Criticism; “The Knight,” (x)
John Zabawa
Pressed Flowers, 2018
Photo by John Zabawa
“I have an endless scream in me,”
– Rainer Maria Rilke, tr. by Robert Bly, from “The Song the Blind Man Sings,”
(via violentwavesofemotion)
“Amidst those golden Flowers of melancholy The spirit is ruled By silent darkness.”— Egon Schiele, from Letters & Poems; “The Sunflowers,”
Helen M. Post of Anni Albers in her weaving studio at Black Mountain College, 1937.
“As for me, I go on. Alone now. Forever alone.”—
Clarice Lispector, from “Obsession,” The Complete Stories ( New Directions, 2015)