what should I do about the wild and the tame?




From Elon James White Tuesday night.

Everything is so disheartening…

"I can get gassed & rubber bulleted every night for the next month and what will you learn that you don’t know right now?" — Elon James White


I wanted to see where beauty comes from
without you in the world, hauling my heart
across sixty acres of northeast meadow,
my pockets filling with flowers.
Then I remembered,
it’s you I miss in the brightness
and body of every living name:
rattlebox, yarrow, wild vetch.
You are the green wonder of June,
root and quasar, the thirst for salt.
When I finally understand that people fail
at love, what is left but cinquefoil, thistle,
the paper wings of the dragonfly
aeroplaning the soul with a sudden blue hilarity?
If I get the story right, desire is continuous,
equatorial. There is still so much
I want to know: what you believe
can never be removed from us,
what you dreamed on Walnut Street
in the unanswerable dark of your childhood,
learning pleasure on your own.
Tell me our story: are we impetuous,
are we kind to each other, do we surrender
to what the mind cannot think past?
Where is the evidence I will learn
to be good at loving?
The black dog orbits the horseshoe pond
for treefrogs in their plangent emergencies.
There are violet hills,
there is the covenant of duskbirds.
The moon comes over the mountain
like a big peach, and I want to tell you
what I couldn’t say the night we rushed
North, how I love the seriousness of your fingers
and the way you go into yourself,
calling my half-name like a secret.
I stand between taproot and treespire.
Here is the compass rose
to help me live through this.
Here are twelve ways of knowing
what blooms even in the blindness
of such longing. Yellow oxeye,
viper’s bugloss with its set of pink arms
pleading do not forget me.
We hunger for eloquence.
We measure the isopleths.
I am visiting my life with reckless plenitude.
The air is fragrant with tiny strawberries.
Fireflies turn on their electric wills:
an effulgence. Let me come back
whole, let me remember how to touch you
before it is too late.

— Stacie Cassarino, Summer Solstice
(via grammatolatry)


Come on, Bart, let’s finish it the way we started it: on the level.

Gun Crazy (1950) dir. Joseph H. Lewis

"be softer with you. you are a breathing thing. a memory to someone. a home to a life."
by nayyirah waheed  (via origamiprincesss)

(Source: nayyirahwaheed)


Before Sunrise (1995)

"Whenever you are creating beauty around you, you are restoring your own soul."

 Alice Walker, an American author and activist

Her most famous novel, “The Color Purple”, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award in 1983.

(via rarest-beauty)

(Source: citrusina)

selfproducer: ordinary day

"But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?"
by Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore (via anec-dotes)

May 2014
Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming
Mamiya 7ii // 80mm // Kodak Portra 160


May 2014

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Mamiya 7ii // 80mm // Kodak Portra 160

"When you walk out your door each morning, you can find new ways to see and new ways to live, if you look. You’ll be able to understand so many strange languages, so many secret codes. Things you’ve been struggling with will give way and become easier, more manageable, small enough to hold in your hand. Write your wishes down on paper and watch them become poetry; watch them become magic. Call your friends and tell them your secrets. Listen to the crickets outside your house at night. Watch the fireflies. Watch the golden moon."

Joe Reihsen - Sleep Deprivation (2013)


Joe Reihsen - Sleep Deprivation (2013)