Longing loneliness

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“I like longing
climbing up the railings of sound and color
catching into my open mouth
the frozen scent
I like my loneliness
suspended higher
than a bridge
embracing the sky with its arms
and my love walking barefoot over the snow”

(Halina Poswiatowska, I like longing)

My dear Harbour II (another day, without you)

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“The word landed with a stony thud
Onto my still-beating breast.
Nevermind, I was prepared,
I will manage with the rest.

I have a lot of work to do today;
I need to slaughter memory,
Turn my living soul to stone
Then teach myself to live again. . .

But how.
(…)
I have long had this premonition
Of a bright day and a deserted house. ”

(Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova)

-to J.H.B.-

Reflection – A self-portrait

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“Who sees the human face correctly: the photographer, the mirror, or the painter?”

(Pablo Picasso)

It’s harsher than we expect

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“-What happens when we die?
-What happens?
[pause]
-We return to the place that we came from.
-I don’t remember where I came from.
-Nor do I.

(…)

There is a beauty in the world, though it’s harsher than we expect it to be.”

(Michael Cunningham, The Hours)

– for you dear J.H.B. –

Freezing that frame II

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“…do I have
of course I have,
beneath my raincoat,
I have your photographs.
…and the sun on your face
I’m freezing that frame…”

(Tori Amos, Gold Dust)

A room

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“A room is, after all, a place where you hide from the wolves. That’s all any room is.”

(Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight)

Mirror, mirror on the wall (XXIV)

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“I remember his eyes. They are just like mine. Every time I look in the mirror I see him. I try not to look at my self too much.”

(Ida Løkås)