This is Lucille, the wedding dachshund. I knitted her as a wedding gift for Sarah and James with whom she now lives. She is wonky and happy. HI LUCILLE!
Below the sky sheet-lightning slumbers lightly; against it the trees, motionless, are ruffled out to the last twig, swollen, increased as though quick with young.
S. Carey in Landan this week. Magical.
Literally a Range Of Light.
Rain on the skylight + Moon Song
Can’t stop listening to Angel Olsen. Here’s my questionable version of Unfucktheworld.
'She had the feeling that unknown words were in her throat, and she was ready to speak them. Strange words were flowering in her throat and now was the time for her to name them.'
You crackled when I touched you
not with the warmth of slow burning logs
but with the labour of flies
bouncing off their death blue lights.
I was worried you were greener than me
or that I’d be caught blinking at the wrong moment.
Perhaps we were all surprised
at how your light flickered,
gently fizzing blue
each time I closed my eyes.
You didn’t know what to do with me –
I was a shrieking baby in your hands
sensitive to any temperature.
In me you saw futures
you wanted to try on for size –
the problem is
everything looks good on you.
The only way I can empathise
is by picturing myself at six years old
tongue to one side
choosing one friend to stay safe with
by the busy road.
I grabbed for more hands than I could hold
with no thought
to whose hands would have mine.
Choice drops like oil,
thick from human fingers,
to meet the water
where our lost limbs go swimming.
Colours are born there
and later named –
they come as futures or become remains,
and with nineteen years of sight behind
there’s no bulb to change.
'The past is just a story we tell ourselves.'
Just when I was looking for comfort, this movie has preoccupied me with questions too heavy for my skull, and thoughts of all that is complicated and painful. Completely bowled over.
'Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be. The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen.'