visual stimulation: challenging, dorky, poetic, intriguing, enigmatic, semi-provocative inspo
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When the alarm goes off, the first ones to open their eyes are words, immense eyes God uses to spy on us. Afterwards, the inner doors open, narrow hallways where morning light advances like a fresh-water rivulet. The rest of the order is slightly variable: now I cannot tell whether petals or bells open first, whether my love for you or your love for me opens first, sweet synchronicity of awakening together. Everything alive sooner or later will open, like a premonition: oranges on the marble countertop, color on matter, butterfly unfurling in profile, rose flush on the neck, body opening over body, Why talk about the future? Love is not a straight line drawn in pencil on the calendar: neither going nor arriving nor advancing. Just to open ourselves in delicate circles: You, stone–I, water.
Gemma Gorga, #12 from “Excerpts from Book of Minutes,” trans. from the Catalan by Sharon Dolin, The American Poetry Review (vol. 45, no. 5, September/October 2016)
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How To: Trick People Into Thinking You Weren’t Crying
i. smile. smile like you are dying, breathing your last breath, like the irony of your pathetic life is the funniest thing in the whole damn world. smile like you’re crazy, like you’re on a high that doesn’t end, a high that you almost wish would. smile like you love the hurt.
ii. put your hands anywhere but your face. wave them in the air, touch another person’s skin, run them through your hair. throw your shoulders back, open your mouth and don’t you dare wipe your eyes. don’t touch the spot on your forehead, don’t rub your nose; pretend you are confident in yourself, for once.
iii. walk like you aren’t bleeding. walk like there is no glass beneath you, like the knife in your back is a flower blooming. walk like you are moving mountains, like you are causing earthquakes and hurricanes. walk like you are more than something.
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That Little Church at Schwarzsee by Mångata Fujifilm Superia 200 Instagram / Tumblr
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