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“Rosalie saw before her eyes a tree of marvellous beauty”, 1920.
One of several illustrations by the wonderful Virginia Frances Sterrett which we have for sale in our online prints shop: https://t.co/qv9g9KOn3h
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There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is. It is the sadness of understanding that life is not a grand adventure, but a series of small, insignificant moments, that love is not a fairy tale, but a fragile, fleeting emotion, that happiness is not a permanent state, but a rare, fleeting glimpse of something we can never hold onto. And in that understanding, there is a profound loneliness, a sense of being cut off from the world, from other people, from oneself.
Virginia Woolf
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In the morning, a healing slowness. The mind goes to Anne Carson’s translation of Hippolytus and Euripides’ afterthought. “What do we desire when we desire other people? Not them. Something else.” Echoes of Proust. “The people we love turn to ashes when we posess them.”
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"The only access we have to our volcanic unconscious and to the profound motives for our actions and reactions is through shocks of our encounters with specific people."
~ Louise Bourgeois
(From a note in her diary, 1980)

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Helen Frankenthaler (American, 1928 - 2011)
Canal - 1963
@ The Guggenheim, NY
more on abstrakshun
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«1.7. “When they come alive,” in C. P. Cavafy, Collected Poems, trans. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, ed. George Savides (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1975), 63; copy marked by Cy Twombly. © Alessandro Twombly. Photo British School at Rome.», in Mary Jacobus, Reading Cy Twombly. Poetry in Paint, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ, 2016, p. 13
/ l'Altissimo /
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“The past is a springboard for me … ancient things are new things. Everything lives in the moment, that’s the only time it can live, but its influence can go on forever.”
~ Cy Twombly
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Enjoyed my first year of my thirties. Cheers to more champagne for breakfast and less fucks given.
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