tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28287751144487941032024-03-13T08:25:45.953-07:00the oblique lifeRoxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-42476843633468172872019-12-24T11:40:00.000-08:002019-12-24T11:40:21.493-08:00quiet even on this shore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">In my best moments I think "Life has passed me by" and I am content.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />Walking seems to cover time and space but in reality we are always just where we started. I walk but in reality I am hand in hand with contentment on my own doorstep.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />The ocean is deathless<br />The islands rise and die<br />Quietly come, quietly go<br />A silent swaying breath</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />I wish the idea of time would drain out of my cells and leave me quiet even on this shore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Agnes Martin </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: white;">.</span>Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-77503144328954858742019-12-01T12:26:00.000-08:002019-12-01T12:33:24.213-08:00fragile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">The
sense of my own irreplaceable life, then, is inseparable from my sense
that it will end. When I return to the same landscape every summer, part
of what makes it so poignant is that I may never see it again.
Moreover, I care for the preservation of the landscape because I am
aware that even the duration of the natural environment is not
guaranteed. Likewise, my devotion to the ones I love is inseparable from
the sense that they cannot be taken for granted. My time with family
and friends is precious because we have to make the most of it. Our time
together is illuminated by the sense that it will not last forever and
we need to take care of one another because our lives are fragile.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The sense of finitude—the sense of the ultimate fragility of everything we care about—is at the heart of what I call secular faith. To have secular faith is to be devoted to a life that will end, to be dedicated to projects that can fail or break down.</span></div>
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<span class="st">Martin Hägglund - <i>This Life</i></span> </div>
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<span style="color: white;">.</span>Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-50664026888687621212016-12-24T12:56:00.001-08:002016-12-24T12:56:44.481-08:00snow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<br />Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-74042558726511301052016-12-02T07:15:00.000-08:002016-12-02T07:15:11.150-08:00found and lost in an instant<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">It happened one day, at a crossroads, in the middle of a crowd, people coming and going.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I stopped, blinked: suddenly I understood nothing. Nothing, nothing about anything: I did not understand the reasons for things or for people, it was all senseless, absurd. I laughed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What I found strange at the time was that I had never realized before; that up until then I had accepted everything: traffic lights, cars, posters, uniforms, monuments, things completely detached from any sense of the world, accepted them as if there were some necessity, some chain of cause and effect that bound them together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then my laugh died. I blushed, ashamed. I waved to get people’s attention. “Stop a moment!” I shouted, “there is something wrong! Everything is wrong! We are doing the absurdest things. This cannot be the right way. Where can it end?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">People stopped around me, sized me up, curious. I stood there in the middle of them, waving my arms, desperate to explain myself, to have them share the flash of insight that had suddenly enlightened me: and I said nothing. I said nothing because the moment I had raised my arms and opened my mouth, my great revelation had been as it were swallowed up again and the words had come out any old how, on impulse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“So?” people asked, “what do you mean? Everything is in its place. All is as it should be. Everything is a result of something else. Everything fits in with everything else. We cannot see anything wrong or absurd.” I stood there, lost, because as I saw it now everything had fallen into place again and everything seemed normal, traffic lights, monuments, uniforms, tower blocks, tramlines, beggars, processions; yet this did not calm me, it tormented me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“I am sorry,” I said. “Perhaps it was I who was wrong. It seemed that way then. But everything is fine now. I am sorry.” And I made off amid their angry glares.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yet, even now, every time (and it is often) that I find I do not understand something, then, instinctively, I am filled with the hope that perhaps this will be my moment again, perhaps once again I shall understand nothing, I shall grasp the other knowledge, found and lost in an instant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(</span><i>The Flash - Italo Calvino</i><span style="font-size: large;">)</span><br />
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<br />Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-22260263458352928332016-06-26T08:37:00.000-07:002016-06-26T08:38:42.741-07:00come healing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Behold the gates of mercy</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In arbitrary space</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And none of us deserving</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The cruelty or the grace</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">O solitude of longing</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where love has been confined</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come healing of the body</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come healing of the mind</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">O see the darkness yielding</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That tore the light apart</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come healing of the reason</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come healing of the heart</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal;"><i>(Leonard Cohen)</i></span></h3>
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<span style="color: white;">..</span>Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-812408496521402822016-02-05T05:21:00.001-08:002016-02-05T05:24:25.492-08:00sitting in quietude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Winter has a message of its own</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When the cold is like a flower-</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Flowers have their fragrance, winter has its handful of memories.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The shadow of withered branch, like lean blue smoke,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Paints a stroke across the afternoon window.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the cold the sunlight grows pale and slanted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is just like this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I sip the tea quietly</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As if waiting for a guest to speak.</span></div>
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<i>Li Jinfa</i></div>
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Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-30483117693983954712016-01-25T10:53:00.001-08:002016-01-25T10:53:37.966-08:00easy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Easy is what we must be — </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">holding and taking, holding and letting go.</span></div>
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<i>Hofmannsthal</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzJo8g9kF4fcYfRKZwA2l5DF3us5IdkqyAnoaNho8PHM_rQLnaalBNzn5ozOPerOSa13PetIckXKn1W1bg_iVpQTWfrPv_NqVjHmGZltq2Rq27cXCvIC-IJxGM1hZbu-yXqVcllY-vyQu/s1600/wood2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzJo8g9kF4fcYfRKZwA2l5DF3us5IdkqyAnoaNho8PHM_rQLnaalBNzn5ozOPerOSa13PetIckXKn1W1bg_iVpQTWfrPv_NqVjHmGZltq2Rq27cXCvIC-IJxGM1hZbu-yXqVcllY-vyQu/s1600/wood2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-43693717228296889592016-01-22T04:34:00.000-08:002016-01-22T05:06:36.139-08:00without the body<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeB2vL_79zBylRTiw-1C7pm4oWQIrQBv6qVp1ybN6YGYeAoDPHfXIiTAl6535fUOcE9deBLhZJTHZJpTPuGo8jzdNX6r0roH2OpKojgzJ7F38FCdgqVBT5darrLwLwxJBOjWpdMAob-Lh/s1600/sense1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeB2vL_79zBylRTiw-1C7pm4oWQIrQBv6qVp1ybN6YGYeAoDPHfXIiTAl6535fUOcE9deBLhZJTHZJpTPuGo8jzdNX6r0roH2OpKojgzJ7F38FCdgqVBT5darrLwLwxJBOjWpdMAob-Lh/s1600/sense1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Otherwise, it would not matter</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">that my fingertips</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">start just under your ear</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and move with impossible</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">luxury, almost undetectable touch,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">down the side of the breathing</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">throat, over the collarbone</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and the supreme smooth paleness</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">of the shoulder,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">down the inside of your arm,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">finding the slight blue veins</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">of the wrist, and lingering</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">long in the palm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Without the body,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">why would i want</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Without the body, where</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">us to the world?</span></div>
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from<i> Sense</i> (James Owens)</div>
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<br />Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-29208328833708768132016-01-19T04:26:00.003-08:002016-01-19T04:28:01.355-08:00in this almost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pehWBJsZVC8hRScCQYZgLsC1iwTdc6UPBRYctJXi_fn2SAdFaD1Zc-s3MShkwJV8wQ06CnCO_P_j8j0KpEq_VGBVC2TORyG66iw3ldDX94OA7zV3CvA6AYwd9vB1sOOIVwJNyx54G7c7/s1600/rain1.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pehWBJsZVC8hRScCQYZgLsC1iwTdc6UPBRYctJXi_fn2SAdFaD1Zc-s3MShkwJV8wQ06CnCO_P_j8j0KpEq_VGBVC2TORyG66iw3ldDX94OA7zV3CvA6AYwd9vB1sOOIVwJNyx54G7c7/s1600/rain1.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">Oblique life? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">I am well aware that there is a slight detachment between things, they almost collide, there is a detachment among the beings that lose one other amongst words that almost don’t say anything more. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">But we almost understand one other in this light discord, in this almost that is the only way to stand full life, since a sudden face-to-face encounter with it would frighten us, scare off its delicate spider’s web threads.</span></div>
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<i style="color: #666666; font-size: small;">(Clarice Lispector)</i></div>
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Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2828775114448794103.post-40681580380154041742016-01-17T07:55:00.002-08:002016-01-17T11:46:33.760-08:00the act of surrender<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: none;">
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">but if i hope to understand in order to accept things— the act of surrender will never happen</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Clarice Lispector)</span></i><br />
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Roxanahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14744287536426329556noreply@blogger.com14