(Source: larmoyante, via journalofanobody)
(Source: larmoyante, via journalofanobody)
Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.
(via journalofanobody)
with long lapses of silence,
and I am aware of the stream that has no language,
coursing beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.
(via journalofanobody)
Konstantin Kalinovich(Russian/Ukrainian, b.1959)
Museum of Clouds 2000
Etching, dry point, mezzotint
(Source: dancingwithhexagons.wordpress.com, via journalofanobody)
Konstantin Kalinovich(Russian/Ukrainian, b.1959)
Etching, mezzotint, dry point
(Source: eau-de-mode.livejournal.com, via journalofanobody)
