And how does one pay for thoughts? The answer, I think, is: with courage.

So, the other day I was supposed to show up at a printing class with a quote. Therefore, at midnight or something, I am trying to find quotes. These are all Wittgenstein (or so they say). They are all from twitter and wikipedia (so if I'm starting to look semi-academic don't be fooled). Here's what he said, in part:

Philosophy unravels the knots in our thinking; hence its results must be simple,
but its activity is as complicated as the knots that it unravels.

Aim at being loved without being admired.

You could attach prices to thoughts. Some cost a lot, some a little.
And how does one pay for thoughts? The answer, I think, is:
with courage.

Religion is, as it were, the calm bottom of the sea at its deepest point,
which remains calm however high the waves on the surface may be.

The human body is the best picture of the human soul.

To pray is to think about the meaning of life.

If life becomes hard to bear
we think of a change in our circumstances.
But the most important and effective change,
a change in our own attitude,
hardly even occurs to us,
and the resolution to take such a step
is very difficult for us.

To believe in a God means
to understand the question about the meaning of life.
To believe in a God means to
see that the facts of the world are not
the end of the matter.
To believe in God means to see that life has a meaning.

..the whole thing is as plain as a sock on the jaw!

You can’t think decently if you don’t want to hurt yourself.
I know all about it because I am a shirker.

Thinking is often easy,
but when it’s most important it threatens to rob one of one’s PET NOTIONS
and leave one BEWILDERED.

The Clement daughters here find my name difficult so they call me ‘Vicky’.
NOBODY else is allowed to do this.

My father was a business man,
and I want my philosophy to be businesslike,
to get something done,
to get something settled.

Tell them I've had a wonderful life.

(famous last words)

[i liked all of these, so i thought i'd share them. besides, i didn't need the quote when i finally got to class in my elizabeth taylor fashion- i try hard not to be late, but my brain doesn't seem to run on the same time as the brains of others. or something like that- well, we did something else in class- a good thing- and what's the use of midnight research on twitter if you don't share it, right? um. not right, probably. but here, anyway. hope you enjoy as much as i do. and yes, i already posted this quick-snapped photo from berlin. and yes, i'll probably post it again.]

with special thanks to WittTweets

what today was like


blue bicicletta, thanks

e. e. cummings

images here

(you're in davis, one of our favorite places! and i
feel just the same way you do about this poem :)


on the world being mud-lucious [again]

hop-scotch and jump-rope

[in our backyard, the wisteria is
in bloom and it is spectacular.
the lavender is happy, the lime
tree has so many buds it is
dizzying & on these warm days,
after the rains we've seen,
the scent is sweeter than any i've
ever known. a rare slice of heaven.]

cover story:
the world of interiors +
the magnificent


camp follower

an art, a fortunate accident, a camp in the desert

"..Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
[via theue]

how grateful i am for the vision of s!

+ image found via the magnificent enthusiasm of hh, here


illuminating | 50 watts

this via completely magnificent 50 Watts here

to a friend

to share your art and your words the way you do!
i cannot thank you enough. please know how much
it meant. to go beyond being a patron of the arts,
to be a patron of hearts- reminding not to follow
the herd, to be true to what we know. to take the
time that you do for others, when others might
not. the art of caring for your fellow man: the
art of life itself. this is what you shared. it was
greatly and graciously appreciated. they heard.

with true thanks.

photo: peter beard


"I'm wearing the same dress. Branding."

i had to post this. when she said 'branding' (braaanding) and laughed, well...i paused it
for a minute and thought i'd share. anyone who can put that much into one little word
(branding. yep.) i can probably listen to for a bit. besides. the visuals, the juxtaposition,
the whole idea of what's going on here. and the dresses. yes. those two dresses...

via jenna

nurse's song

When the voices of children are heard on the green,
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast,
And everything else is still.

‘Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
And the dews of night arise;
Come, come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies.’

‘No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,
And we cannot go to sleep;
Besides, in the sky the little birds fly,
And the hills are all cover'd with sheep.’

‘Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,
And then go home to bed.’
The little ones leapèd, and shoutèd, and laugh'd
And all the hills echoèd.
-wm. blake 1798



the reflection of the fire is sublime;
so, too, the simplicity of the kitchen

and the light! (those famous windows)


hiromi suzuki | not losing to the rain

hiromi suzuki is someone i've long admired.

her work has an ineffable grace, a charm and
beauty that eases quietly into your soul and
remains. it's happy, too; happy when it is
sometimes hard to be happy. i think there
must be a joy in her soul that works into
each piece of art she creates. if you stop
by here, you can see for yourself. first,
maybe, read Ame ni mo makezu, a poem
written by Kenji Miyazawa. i found it on
her site. (look, also, at books she's shared.)

ami ni mo makezu
not losing to the rain
not losing to the wind
not losing to the snow nor to summer's heat
with a strong body
unfettered by desire
never losing temper
cultivating a quiet joy
every day four bowls of brown rice
miso and some vegetables to eat
in everything
count yourself last and put others before you
watching and listening, and understanding
and never forgetting
in the shade of the woods of the pines of the fields
being in a little thatched hut
if there is a sick child to the east
going and nursing over them
if there is a tired mother to the west
going and shouldering her sheaf of rice
if there is someone near death to the south
going and saying there's no need to be afraid
if there is a quarrel or a suit to the north
telling them to leave off with such waste
when there's drought, shedding tears of sympathy
when the summer's cold, wandering upset
called a blockhead by everyone
without being praised
without being blamed
such a person
I want to become
--kenji miyazawa

photographs: hiromi suzuki

(of note: another translation of the poem ends
a bit differently. i suppose the real meaning
is, perhaps, somewhere in between the two.

"In times of drought, shed tears of sympathy.
In summers cold, walk in concern and empathy.
Stand aloof of the unknowing masses:
Better dismissed as useless than flattered as a Great Man.
This is my goal, the person I strive to become."

i love all of this, especially "cultivating a quiet joy...
count yourself last and put others before you
watching and listening, and understanding")


at the market. at the toy store. (spring will turn to summer.)

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)


a purpose which made him look towards the distant skies with hope

Having slept in a boat at Suma and Akashi, and having watched the sunrise over the island of Awaji, our master carried his staff to join Noin at Kisagata, Kenko in the mountains of Kiso, Saigyo at Futami, Jyakuren at Mount Kova, Sogi and Socho in the province of Echigo and Kensai at his cottage in Shirakawa. These people were long dead, but to our master, they were alive, and their living images invited and urged him to visit them. In short, even in his wanderings, our master had a purpose which made him look towards the distant skies with hope.