i think of you a thousand times a day,
i think a thousand things
about the dreams sifted through time
and memory
and heartbeats—
lives running parallel
on this side of my own reality
and in the alternate realities of thousands
He distrusted her affection; and what loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
Excerpt from Middlemarch, by George Elliot, 1871 &1872
oh my sweet and tender-hearted girl,
i feel you
i steal you
i reel you
onto my table-top orbit—
i was once new
i was once true
i was once you
oh yes, you will always remain a locked door
Here, where the artist strives to shape, condense and order thoughts and sensations until they take on a form that communicates, is the promise of continuity as opposed to decay, of meaning as opposed to senselessness, of value as opposed to waste. Vanessa painted, not in order to forget anxiety and pain, but in order to transform them into the permanence of art.
Excerpt from the book, Vanessa Bell by Frances Spalding, 1983
our lives
strike a balance between friendship
and love and loyalty—
we are positioned for direct and often indirect impacts,
even if most of the times we miss—
at least we can say
that we tried
through the labyrinth of time,
the chasms between now and then,
prairies of centuries rolling ever onward—
I have loved you, again and again
love is all at once very complicated,
and very simple
there is a piece of my heart
that always and forever
leads me right back to
you
spanishwoods 