diamondheart22 - Tumblr blog

[diamondheart22]

Hot, Slow

no above, no below

the summer heat is stifling and my brain is craving dopamine all the time!! Anyways—

“What is below us is above for someone else somewhere else. We are sitting here and we say that above is the direction over our head and we think that the opposite direction is below. People practicing sitting meditation on the other side of the world would not agree that what we call above is above because for them it is below. They are not sitting on their heads. The ideas of above and below always mean to be above something or below something, and the ideas of below and above cannot be applied to the reality of the cosmos. These are only concepts to help us relate to our environment. They are concepts that give us a point of reference, but they are not real. Reality is free from all concepts and ideas.”

“Reality is free from all concepts and ideas.”

This is from No fear, No death by Thich Naht Hahn.

What is an idea to the pointed smell of childhood grass? Writers usually think too much and this is why many of them are unhappy. It is all very simple.

I have nothing to report!

Peace,

Jilly

[diamondheart22]

The Decay of Lying by Oscar Wilde

On the English Drama….

“Old myth and legend and dream took shape and substance. History was entirely rewritten, and there was hardly one of the dramatists who did not realize that the Object of art is not simple truth but complex beauty. In this they were perfectly right. Art itself is really a form of exaggeration; and selection, which is the very spirit of art, is nothing more than an intensified mode of overemphasis. But Life soon shattered the perfection of the form…”

“The proper school to learn art is not Life but Art.”

“Just as those who do not love Plato more than Truth cannot pass beyond the threshold of the Academe, so those who do not love Beauty more than Truth never know the innermost shrine of art. The solid stoic British intellect lies in the desert sands like the Sphinx in Flaubert’s marvelous tale, and fantasy, La Chimère, dances round it, and calls to it with her false, flute-toned voice. It may not hear her now, but surely some day, when we are all bored to death with the commonplace character of modern fiction, it will hearken to her and try to borrow her wings.”

Nice.

I love this essay and I recommend it! Oscar Wilde is a treasure. It is set as a dialogue between two people in the library of a country house in Nottinghamshire.

Summary notes:

-Art never expresses anything but itself

-Life imitates art farrrr more than art imitates life

-All bad art comes from returning to Life and Nature, and elevating them into ideals

-Lying..the telling of a beautiful untruth, as the ultimate aim of art

Simple. Checks! **Checks = this view is fun and fascinating to Me

With love,

Jilly

[diamondheart22]

Here is some: prose poetry of the day, idk. Metaphors are soothing.

As I pulled the rope,

the sails sat unperturbed.

We called for help as the storms fury rose,

headlines, headlights on in the night

searching, why must it happen like this?

Sometimes, the wakes let up and we dozed into oblivion.

“What should we all eat for dinner here?”

“Does no one else care if we all go down?”

“They’ll send the remaining to Mars. Do not Tell Anyone.”

“We will make big screens about all of it.”

“The aliens.. the aliens.. are Here!”

Bahhummbugg. I took breaks to read old scrolls by the cast aside, dead, decrepit, and otherwise mad.

The storm worsened.

I let up on the rope and heard gunshots reverberating in the distance,

invisible holes in my head

I could not hold on alone.

The sail began to tear away from its frame as the wind whipped it into submission

What will they say if I tell them what has happened to their minds? What if I am wrong? But what if I am right?

“Anything that generates fear is a lie,” they said with assurance.

Will I be another black cat cast off into the wake while the costumed get sick on saccharine?

I am lost at sea with my fear, but I would gone already without it.

I’d surely be sent away to the place they send all the mad ones.

“There is no secret.” I said plainly.

The problem is that you are thinking about what it means to be human.

Does the bee ever ask why he is a bee?

The waves threw themselves overboard.

No one said anything much, hushed “I love yous”

“The secret in the secret is the heart. There is Nothing to it.”

Blameless and empty platitudes could not carry me in the nightmare air.

It was then that I heard the music;

the sound of everlasting, reverberating calm

the breath, the blades of grass that used to creep between my now bruised toes

but my head was at sea, looping nightmare vision.

“Are there others who know?”

“Does anyone understand here?”

“Could they help me anywhere?”

“Hey did ya know the ‘ol Hollywood has heard all this before?”

“Hey did you all know that no one cares?”

My fingers slipped and bled. I heard nothing in the holes.

“Mad Woman, Crazy Woman, Bipolar, BPD, Schizophrenia, or Rare-Brain Worms?”

What would they label me if I spoke of what I saw at sea?

Where would I go?

It turns out, the scrolls were too heavy for anyone to hold.

A new captain came aboard.

I resolved, to devote myself to the kinder things aboard the ship.

I’d tend to the children and embroider my navy blouse and serve up sardines in inventive ways.

I’d evade the “truth,” what is it anyhow? If not the birds, bees, trees.

Have you ever seen trees fight?

I’d tend to wounds with my 1000 year old woman hands. I’d shut my eyes to their origin.

[diamondheart22]

≤3

[diamondheart22]

“…she put a touch of perfume at her temple and between her breasts; the earth was perfumed with the aroma of a thousand crushed leaves and flowers…”

— Clarice Lispector, from The Book of Delights; “The Beginning of Spring,” 

[diamondheart22]

Do Not Know, Do not Want to Know

When life squeezes lemons in your eyes, let it burn.

Idk. Adage of the day. Tumblr is the perfect place to put bad confessional writing because it is quickly indexed away. No scrolling necessary, guys. No seriously. I find my own writing extremely revolting. It’s.. but.. it’s so fun. I took the link to this masterpiece out my instagram bio because this is too revealing to be so public.

[diamondheart22]

Clean Desk, Clean Mind

Happy Saturday!

I hope anyone reading this is having a relaxing day. I do not have much to share other than some poetry I have been enjoying today.

Excerpt from Love Poems from God compiled by Daniel Ladinsky

These poems are written by the Indian religious reformer, musician, and artist Kabir. He lived from c. 1440-1518.

1. “Where Do The Eyes Of Women Fall?”

If your

pockets were happy with coins and into a fancy

store they brought you

where would the eyes of women

fall?

Our clothes chat with other clothes as they pass,

though who but a sweet creature could care

so much about how they

look?

But if a mirror ever makes

you sad

you should know

that it does

not know

you.

2. Speculative

I had been asking God for a sign to help me

with a big business

decision.

I was walking by the river and a flock of geese

were coming in for a landing and all

passed right over my head—

and relieved themselves.

I became covered with bird shit

and decided to never

invest in anything

speculative.

Peace,

Jilly

[diamondheart22]

Colorful words are tasty for the blind.

[diamondheart22]

Me: maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer…idk what if I’m not good enough

BookTok romance writers: ‘what if you were just a normal school teacher…but the MINOTAUR wanted to get you PREGNANT’

[diamondheart22]

[diamondheart22]

— Susan Sontag, from “Death Kit,” (1967) (via lunamonchtuna)

[diamondheart22]

Why DiamondHeart22 ? — your guess is as good as mine. Diamonds as a Symbol.

I do not know much about diamonds. I do know there is some dirty history. Plainly, diamond is one of the strongest materials known to man and quite beautiful at that. Sometimes I make stylistic decisions without any thought when I am writing. In fact, for this reason alone, sometimes I am taken aback by what thoughts I grab when I let myself write unencumbered. Anyways, I have no interest in a diamond engagement ring. I have actually never been to a wedding. This is a total aside and I would like people to know that I would be a kind, well-behaved guest.

[diamondheart22]

Content I enjoy watching at night example: “Rural Life in Vietnam in a small, peaceful, warm house”

[diamondheart22]

HomeGoods, Homes are Good. 3 things.

1.

Feat: Photo of cute striped pillows. I did not buy any. Throw pillows are a non-sensical luxury, but they do give me so much joy. I have been taking my time with this decision as I prepare to move into yet another dwelling. I think taste is all about having intentions and being careful to call upon them when making stylistic decisions. Developing personal style is knowing who you are, what you like, and making this manifest in how you outfit your physical body, dwelling, existence. It is actually one of the most Fun parts of aliveness in my opinion. Things.

2.

The light from the setting sun touched the curtain, shone through the bedroom window and onto the bed. Outside it was mostly flat for miles; the sun reflected off tin roofs of to-be-developed homes. Charlotte called them the diamonds; she saw the homes as evidence of nascent industry, diamonds preparing to destroy and be destroyed. Soon there would be more people and less ponies. This evening, the moonlight formed a strobe-like ray on her bed. Charlotte called this “star-fire.”

“Star-fire kisses my bed.”

If was writing a YA novel today, I would sound like that. Charlotte’s family has lived in the desert for decades and she ends up best friends with the camel/horse/something similar of a rich developer who intends to build Mad Casinos on land that he definitely should not be building casinos on. The camel relationship takes on a life of its own and instead of casinos they build a camel shrine with a camel shaped fountain memorial akin to the Trevi Fountain. I name the book after the camel. I feel like the camel actually talks. The book is for 11-13 year olds. Lol.

3.

I highly recommend the cookbook “Eat Clean, Play Dirty,” by the Sakara girls. I strongly dislike the title and general branding, but the recipes are so good. The sakara products are overpriced and unrealistic unless you are actually Beyoncé, but the cookbook… it is just undeniably tasty. I strongly dislike when brands hot-girl-bimbify nutrition products…which reminds me of a rainy November Sunday in West Hollywood — I was street walking and soaking wet— and I literally could not help but feel slight mortification unironically ordering like a “skin-cute angel princess hot girl glow face idfk” tea at the cafe embedded in the Glossier store. This phenomenon is wide spread. I had to buy something to charge my phone. It should have all been called “tea for people who have spent a lot of time on the internet.” By the way, no judgement. The advertising forces are strong. iPhones should be used with caution.

Peace and blessings,

Jilly

[diamondheart22]

worrying is like worshipping the problem

[diamondheart22]

no so true

June 3, 1938 Virginia Woolf, “A Writer’s Diary” (1918 - 1941) originally published: 1953

[diamondheart22]