Something for the Everyday

They say eyes are the window to the soul. While I don't necessarily disagree, I find this discernment somewhat underwhelming. I have not always thought this, however. For a considerable time, I understood eyes through their functionalism - they are the very organ used by one to visualize, and thus interpret, their world. Rather than a window to the soul for me , they were a window to the world for you . As time went on, things changed. I looked into the eyes of those close to me. Deeper            Deeper                       Deeper I fell in love, I continued looking. Deeper            Deeper                       Deeper Then, You. One day I looked into a set of eyes and was met with something I could never have imagined. It wasn't anything I could see. It wasn't the hues of greenish...

I don’t know Who I am, where I’m going, or where I’ll end up. I don’t know Who I’ll meet, where I’ll succeed, or when I’ll Fail, And have to start all over Again. I don’t know The next time I’ll cry Tears of Happiness or Despair. I don’t know If tomorrow I’ll sing in the shower Or paint on the grass. But I do know you. And you is all I Need.

Oh, the Places You'll Go! - Burning Man This book is gifted a lot this time of year, and I honestly love it. The words are so whimsical and inspiring, yet tap a particular strain of truth. I know its blind popularity is about as annoying as the fact this was done at Burning Man, however, I think of this video frequently during the graduation time of year. And this year, it really made me think of you. I look forward to living the words of this book alongside you for quite some time to come. Always yours,       Sam

Can't Help Falling in Love with You on a Kalimba - Trench (& Maple) Saw this online tonight and it made me think of you :)  AcousticTrench  is the person's youtube channel which is filled with nice covers/Maple videos. 

    Chics Beach, VA Beach + Will Rogers State Beach, Pacific Palisades  I sit at the edge of the sea,  just throwing pebbles in,  thinking of each one as they go,  thinking back at everything I've been taught,  how I shouldn't become attached to anything,  as everything at one point must go,  and if you love it, it is better to let go,  so if you let go and it comes back,  then it was truly meant to be,  being told that if you think of something,  it will eventually return to its home. so here I sit with you in my hand,  the pebble which rocked my world,  tossing you out into that wild realm,  wet in chaos and ruled by change,  yet I sit here waiting for your return. Forever and ever...  - Javier Falcon

Raner Maria Rilke - Excerpts from Letters to a Young Poet , 1903-1908 Worpswede, near Bremen  July 16, 1903 My dear Mr. Kappus: I have left a letter from you unanswered for a long time; not because I had forgotten it — on the contrary: it is the kind that one reads again when one finds it among other letters, and I recognize you in it as if you were very near. It is your letter of May second, and I am sure you remember it. As I read it now, in the great silence of these distances, I am touched by your beautiful anxiety about life, even more than I was in Paris, where everything echoes and fades away differently because of the excessive noise that makes Things tremble. Here, where I am surrounded by an enormous landscape, which the winds move across as they come from the seas, here I feel that there is no one anywhere who can answer for you those questions and feelings which, in their depths, have a life of their own; for even the most articulate people are unable to help, s...

Passing Time - Maya Angelou Your skin like dawn Mine like musk One paints the beginning of a certain end. The other, the end of a sure beginning.

Camille Monet and a Child in the Artist's Garden in Argenteuil - Claude Monet, 1875 I first time saw this painting was on January 4th, '18 at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. I was picking Leta up from her flight in from Dallas that night and decided - on a bit of a whim - to head to MFA in the morning before picking her up. I wandered through the museum in a fairly desultory way, seeing the sights - trying to not get caught picking my nose, before finding myself in the contemporary wing. I've always preferred modern art for some reason. I think, in some ways, I am intrigued by the sense of purpose I find in later art. That's not to say earlier works didn't have meaning, just that I'm not as attracted to the constraints of commissioned pieces for affluent recipients. In later art, there seems to be a more keen eye toward the basis of the work as art , rather than a material object. An example of this being the impressionist movement in the 1870's ...