bright sadness

"'Yet even now,' declares the Lord, 'return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; and rend your hearts and not your garments.' Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love; and he relents over disaster. Who knows whether he will not turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind him...?" (Joel 2:12-14)

"A journey, a pilgrimage! Yet, as we begin it, as we make the first step into the 'bright sadness' of Lent, we see—far, far away—the destination. It is the joy of Easter, it is the entrance into the glory of the Kingdom." (Alexander Schmemann)

And, this poem.

[painting by Alfonse Borysewicz]


you are my crag


Florist, on repeat.

These words, and all of Citizen: An American Lyric, by Claudia Rankine.

Everything about this house, especially the bedroom.

A. gave me this beautiful book by John Berger for Christmas, which I am thrilled about.

The weekend consisted of this, breakfast club, bread-baking, the farmer's market, and much time spent outside. All good things.

Also, these words, from Minor White:

"If [the photographer] were to walk a block in a state of sensitized sympathy to everything to be seen, he would be exhausted before the block was up and out of film long before that. Perhaps the blank state of mind can be likened to a pot of water almost at the boiling point. A little more heat—an image seen—and the surface breaks into turbulence. Possibly the creative work of the photographer consists in part of putting himself into this state of mind. Reaching it, at any rate, is not automatic. It can be aided by always using one’s camera for serious work so that the association of the camera in one’s hands always leads to taking pictures."