“How do I know what I think until I see what I say?," wrote E. M. Forster. Which precisely encapsulates another reason - besides connecting with you ("only connect," in Forster's famous dictum) - that I like to blog: I am curious to see what my mind via fingers decorously occupied is up to.
My love, another quote I read this week is from E.D.: “To all except anguish, the mind soon adjusts,” from letter #311, early November 1865. ("November always seemed to me the Norway of the year," E.D. incisively puts it in her letter.)
It was a rough 21 hours, restless night, without the ability to blog - but you know, it wasn't so bad. I didn't feel anguished. Rather, I felt connected with you - telepathically. I had felt a touch of anguish in Brooklyn, missing you - but here I have no expectation. Blue skies. The southern Italy of intractable separations.
"A Letter always feels to me like immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend." - E.D., letter #330
It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word you can light up the dark
Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing
- Alison Krauss, "When You Say Nothing At All" (listen to this beautiful song, here)
"the bitter gulf that lies between the death of a person as a biological organism and [her] potential immortality..." - 1.0
from 24 March 2010 post...
I hit on [a] lovely silver gelatin print of [a] reclining damsel... I really like such images. What a beauty. She's so immediate, vivid, fresh, and yet without a doubt - the image is from the 1920s - she is now a fantôme. (What is your name, darling? You were lovely, and I hope you were loved.) Where can I find more such images? Though it's best to savor them one by one.***
Very many kisses. XOXO