I've found myself in a mess of tears too often the past weeks. Everywhere we look, our nervous systems are being bombarded by fear-inducing stimuli. There has been so much darkness and sadness and loss in the media. Murder, rape, so many tragedies...rage, sorrow, so much grief. The heaviness of it all can really stir an existential drift downward. It's hard to face the day when you're full of weepiness. The world is vast in its shadow, but it is also vast in its light. Many of us are feeling the weight of these crises on our hearts. Our minds are full of static.
When I begin to lose sight of beauty and love, I try to create balance with music, art, poetry and green tea ice cream. Sometimes, I think it's best for us to step away from the news and choose to refocus the lens. There are a handful of people who inspire me and whose work helps me recreate a healthy mind and happy heart. These humans are inimitable...and for me, they are undeniably relatable. I can feel their words viscerally as if I'd written them myself. The richness of their descriptive language and their perception, their realities, their unique essences...
In light of recent events, I thought it necessary to revisit beauty to help bring some love back into our lives. I hope you feel these words as deeply as I do.
Anais Nin
I want my eroticism mixed with love. And deep love one does not often experience.
I will not rest until I have told of my descent into a sensuality which was as dark, as magnificent, as wild, as my moments of mystic creation have been dazzling, ecstatic, exalted.
Passion gives me moments of wholeness.
Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.
Frida Kahlo
Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.
To feel the anguish of waiting for the next moment and of taking part in the complex current (of affairs) not knowing that we are headed toward ourselves, through millions of stone beings – of bird beings – of star beings – of microbe beings – of fountain beings toward ourselves.
I wanted to tell you that my whole being opened for you. Since I fell in love with you everything is transformed and is full of beauty... love is like an aroma, like a current, like rain.
I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.
Pablo Neruda
I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.
