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To most the forest simply is the silent space of mind and spirit, a place where soul can fly with each step of foot on cushioned ground of moss and leaves. The sparkling water of the rushing stream provides roaring bassline to the wordless songs of birdlife. Careful as you walk deeper into the confines of the undergrowth, for this is also the seat of the magic of the fae. You may feel you walk alone but be assured that you are not! Unseen eyes watch your every move. Each brush against even the smallest stalk of grass carries message of your presence, just as vibrations along a spiderweb would.
The Mosaic Montage Monday theme for today is "Wordless", a collage or montage without words or text, my submission is some dew drops on our lawn.
The look in his eyes brought an oddly comforting sort of warmth in her chest, and she smiled. Wordlessly, she moved to join him on the broom. It was only when the air was whooshing around them, and the alarmed cry of a ministry member - who had spotted their vague forms - was snatched away by the wind, did Zelda murmur one sentence at Elliott's back. "I'm proud of you."
I had three days on Fogo Island and as always in Newfoundland, I obsessively worried about the weather. This day was cool and cloudy and I wasn't too optimist. But when I arrived in Joe Batt's Arm, it was like the sky was waiting for me. The blues were amazing and the clouds were moving overhead in the most awesome patterns.
This was one of my favourite moments of the entire holiday as everything just fell into place. I love the fishing stages, which to me is the perfect mix of function and raw beauty. Standing in the most rugged of places, they just belong, proud yet unobstrusive surrounded by ocean and sky. It is that combination of elements that wins my heart and gives me best feels.
Anyhow....I'm the opposite of wordless Wednesday....I'll shut my mouth now and let you look at my blue sky. :-)
Hoping you all have an awesome day!
I was once again exploring my archives. Admittedly I have no fresh photos, but there often is a good reason to get back to the archives - only, one does not know which one until she does actually see it. Well, I found a folder with an Autumn sunrise session taken at a precious location in November 2017 (see my A wordless dialogue, the only photo from that session I uploaded at that time). It was a dark season for me, so I can imagine how I could have been able to left it behind after having barely tasted it. Since I have got used to the darkness by now, I have resolved to unearth something that might be worth to be offered to the world. As a matter of fact, I have started a new journey in the unknown lands of postprocessing, but it is going to be another story - actually, an entirely different bracketing. This specific photo is the journal of a journey I cannot remember - even the native .xcf Gimp file is lost, so I can recall exactly no details about this postproc. What remains is this mysterious endpoint pic, where I can merely guess that, at some point, I have used the residual layer from a wavelet decomposition. Nothing more. But the picture existed, it was breathing in front of me, so I decided to take it s.o.o.p. (straight-out-of-processing) as it was and bring it to the regions of light.
I invite you to press L and take a little time to explore the delicate branching patterns bathed in the silky golden light.
“The deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept. Not that we discover a new unity. We discover an older unity. My dear brothers (and sisters), we are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.”
- Thomas Merton — Spoken at Conference in Calcutta in October of 1968 from the Asian Journal of Thomas Merton and The Gethsemani Encounter
Come again, bright days of hope And pleasure gone;
Come again, bright days, come again, come again.
From my care, last night, by holy sleep beguiled,
In the fair dream-light my home upon me smiled;
Oh, how sweet, 'mid the dew, every flower that I Knew
Breathed a gentle welcome back to the worn And weary child.
I wake in my grave by the sad sea-wave.
Come again, dear dream, so peacefully that smiled;
Come again, dear dream, come again, come again.
haven't gotten very far with sorting the archives. this is from yesterday. still swimming in the fog over here. ;) one benefit i suppose... covers all the webs and plants with beautiful little drops.
a little late.. but hbw!
(funny posting a shot for wordless wednesday makes me feel like i am holding my breath all day long... finally came up for some air. ha ha).
A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit
Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb
A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs
Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees
Leaving as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs
A poem should be equal to
Not true
For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf
For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above to sea
A poem should not mean
But be
A poem should be a sigh
Trapped in chests
Released
A poem should be a butterfly transformed
Transfigured
A poem should be a scream
Note by note
Breaking the air cutting through
A poem should be no more
But just
Archibald MacLeish and I
Sorry, I wasn't too creative with the title :)
Just another seascape from the archives during a walk along the Toronto waterfront before the storm came. The best time to get fast moving clouds for LE but risk getting drenched afterwards :P
..I am going to say it. It's the middle of winter and I miss winter.
(here in Toronto at least)
Don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved.
“Significant contacts are certainly possible and easy on the level of experience, not necessarily institutional monasticism, but among people who are seeking. The basic condition for this is that each be faithful to his own search. And so I stand among you as one who offers a small message of hope, that first, there are always people who dare to seek on the margin of society, who are not dependent on social acceptance, not dependent on social routine, and prefer a kind of free-floating existence under a state of risk. And among these people, if they are faithful to their own calling, to their own message from God, communication on the deepest level is possible. And the deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept. Not that we discover a new unity. We discover an older unity. My dear brothers, we are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.”
-Thomas Merton from an Informal talk delivered at Calcutta, October 1968 (Appendix III of The Asian Journal
“Light rain all night. The need to keep working at meditation—going to the root. Mere passivity won’t due at this point. But activism won’t due either. A time of wordless deepening, to grasp the inner reality of my nothingness in Him Who Is. Talking about it in these terms seems absurd. Seems to have nothing to do with the concrete reality that is to be grasped. My prayer is peace and struggle in silence, to be pure and true, beyond my self, and to go outside the door of my self, not because I will it, but because I am called and must respond.”
- Thomas Merton (April 4, 1965) from A Year with Thomas Merton p. 97
...secret intelligence, the wordless incalculable intuition of the Cat."
From "A Psychical Invasion" by Algernon Blackwood
True communication on the deepest level is more than a simple sharing of ideas, conceptual knowledge, or formulated truth. The kind of communication that is necessary at this level must also be “communion”: beyond the level of words, a communion in authentic experience which is shared not only on a “preverbal” level but also on a “postverbal” level. . . . And the deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept.” (HGL x)
-The Hidden Ground of Love: The Letters of Thomas Merton on Religious Experience and Social Concerns
Dawn. The Hour of Lauds...There is in all visible things an invisible fecundity, a dimmed light, a meek namelessness, a hidden wholeness. This mysterious Unity and Integrity is Wisdom, the Mother of all, Natura naturans. There is in all things an inexhaustible sweetness and purity, a silence that is a fount of action and joy. It rises up in wordless gentleness and flows out to me from the unseen roots of all created being, welcoming me tenderly, saluting me with indescribable humility. This is at once my own being, my own nature, and the Gift of my Creator’s Thought and Art within me, speaking as Hagia Sophia, speaking as my sister, Wisdom.
-Thomas Merton. Emblems of a Season of Fury. New York: New Directions, 1963.
Within without is a major Skyspace by American artist James Turrell, one of his largest and most complex to date. Light is Turrell’s medium, and his Skyspace is a viewing chamber that affects the way we perceive the sky. Commissioned by the National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, Within without is located in the Gallery’s new Australian Garden on the south side of the building.
My work is about space and the light that inhabits it. It is about how you confront that space and plumb it with vision. It is about your seeing, like the wordless thought that comes from looking into fire. — James Turrell
“The deepest level of communication is communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept. Not that we discover a new unity. We discover an older unity. My dear brothers [and sisters], we are already one. But we imagine that we are not. What we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.”
-Thomas Merton, The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton, ed. Naomi Burton et al. (New York: New Directions, 1975), 308.
*Elle est partie. A Françoise C. P.
LACPIXEL - 2024
All pictures were taken with respect for the persons and just for artistic purposes only.
Please don't use this image without my explicit and written permission.
© All rights reserved
“I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.”Anaïs Nin, from a letter to Henry Miller
Zimelda Zemeckis entered the home of the witch Melisentia Peters, who had been missing for many weeks. Wordlessly, Zemeckis tipped her wand to the candle sticks around her, causing them to instantly light, and shudder into place. All corners of the room where filled with shimmering shadows, that moved with the flames... some more alive than others.
--
For credits, just ask.
A Mischief Managed character.
"A Wordless Text, Light on Water"
by Louise LeBourgeois and Steven Carrelli
@louiselebourgeois
@stevencarrellipittore
This drawing was made collaboratively by a remarkable Chicago based artist couple. The drawing brings together their respective practices in a whimsical image that speak (for me) of the tenuous existence of someone like Temma (the indirect subject of all of the works in this project).
This is one of the 23 works in the upcoming enigmatic group exhibition titled "Deposition: Drawn" at North Park University. Opening reception on February 14 (Valentine's Day!) 4:30 - 6:30 and running through March 9.
This exhibition is an unusual mash-up of my work as curator (primarily as gallery director at @npuchicago ) and my work as an artist (particularly work that is related to my most frequent subject, my daughter Temma). I sent each of the participating artists a unique prompt which was for me somehow related to Temma. The participating artists then made a drawing related to their prompt. They also developed an accompanying text / title for the drawing. And then they sent that text to me along with a high resolution scan of their drawing.
Check out Louise's work here:
and Steve's work here:
-> www.facebook.com/SoleLunaPhotos/ <-
"Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You'll see purpose start to surface
No one else is dealing with your demons
Meaning maybe defeating them
Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend."