(Untitled)

[polyatomics]

“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” -Mary Oliver

Please leave me quotes and book suggestions and poetry. If you have added me and I haven't added you back, please introduce yourself.

Comments

[moonberryblue]

Every time someone asks for a book recommendation I always say the Songlines by Bruce Chatwin.

I'm Naomi, 19, archaeologist.

[polyatomics]

What's it about?

Archaeologist, really? How is that?

[moonberryblue]

The first half of it is about the songlines (or sung maps) by which Aborigines traditionally travelled, the second random musings on travel and the history of wanderlust.

I have a hat and a whip!

[polyatomics]

what's a whip for?!

[goodredroad]

i've been on a murakami rampage as of late

[polyatomics]

Is Kafka on the Shore a good starting point? The quotes are beautiful.

[goodredroad]

definately! it's the one I started with.

[youmyvoicebox]

same. it's a treasure.

[invisibleinkk]

She sat just like the others at the table.
But on second glance, she seemed to hold her cup
a little differently as she picked it up.
She smiled once. It was almost painful.

And when they finished and it was time to stand
and slowly, as chance selected them, they left
and moved through many rooms (they talked and laughed),
I saw her. She was moving far behind

the others, absorbed, like someone who will soon
have to sing before a large assembly;
upon her eyes, which were radiant with joy,
light played as on the surface of a pool.

She followed slowly, taking a long time,
as though there were some obstacle in the way;
and yet: as though, once it was overcome,
she would be beyond all walking, and would fly.

--rainer maria rilke, going blind

[polyatomics]

Listen, it only takes a moment

[invisibleinkk]

jaywang, you're leaving next year? i'm going to miss you, yer beautyful face & good poetry.

[polyatomics]

yes'm i shore am. i'll miss you too, lil' lady.

[polyatomics]

"this hurts us, and yet we manage, we survive
so that losing itself becomes a kind
of song, our song, our only witness
to the way we die, one day at a time;
a leg severed, a word buried: this
is how we recognize ourselves, and why."

[polyatomics]

I've read this before, again and again.