scattered

 shreds of thoughts and scattered inspiration

ludovicmaillard: “Pont de la justice. Nîmes , Occitanie, France Print 1 of a limited edition of 7, Contact us at ludovic.maillard@gmail.com to buy it. #hanslucas #betonbrut #architecture #patrimoine #occitanie #concrete #france #noiretblanc...

ludovicmaillard:

Pont de la justice. Nîmes , Occitanie, France Print 1 of a limited edition of 7, Contact us at ludovic.maillard@gmail.com to buy it. #hanslucas #betonbrut #architecture #patrimoine #occitanie #concrete #france #noiretblanc #blackandwhite #brut #art #black

In a different mode, or another plane of being, music is the equivalent of some of man’s most significant and most inexpressible experiences. By mysterious analogy it evokes in the mind of the listener, sometimes the phantom of these experiences, sometimes even the experiences themselves in their full force of life — it is a question of intensity; the phantom is dim, the reality, near and burning. Music may call up either; it is chance or providence which decides. The intermittences of the heart are subject to no known law. A.Huxley.

ii c

I will never lose sight of the

water in the tower—

It is glistening softly

and I cannot hear a thing.

The fox is gone,

the cormorant is gone,

the herons are all out wading;

and I am watching the water winding

inside of the thin-walled tower.

Oh it’s dark and damp in the womb;

I’m all alone in the water

(can you feel the heat from the concrete below?

you remember to turn off the burner?)

Move round,

It’s pushing me slowly,

I sigh

A hot breath; and the smallest haze of twilight

skips across shadows,

licking the waves of this starless bay,

dissolving into the iron.

Float;

The only sounds within the water tower

are echoes, they’re all memories. I cover my

eyes with a cold wet hand, and

I cannot see a thing.

ii c
rutherford 2016