Category Archives: BEAUTY

“I thought love was a rare orchid that bloomed only once – but once it bloomed, it bloomed forever”. The Poison Diaries

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CRUCIFIX ORCHID AT THE BEACH SHACK URUNGA 2016

When we stopped to rest and Tony tried to figure out what was wrong with his compass, I asked him what he thought it was about orchids that seduced humans so completely that they were compelled to steal them and worship them and try to breed new and specific kinds of them and then be willing to wait for nearly a decade for one of them to flower. ‘Oh, mystery, beauty, unknowability, I suppose, ‘ he said, shrugging. ‘Besides, I think the real reason is that life has no meaning. I mean, no obvious meaning. You wake up, you go to work, you do stuff. I think everybody’s always looking for something a little unusual that can preoccupy them and help pass the time.’

“Before the rain stops we can hear a bird. Even under the heavy snow we can see snowdrops and some new growth.” Shunryu Suzuki – Zen Mind Beginner’s Mind

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Little Snowdrop
(Author unknown)

The world may never notice
If a Snowdrop doesn’t bloom,
Or even pause to wonder
If the petals fall too soon.
But every life that ever forms,
Or ever comes to be,
Touches the world in some small way
For all eternity.

Recalling the fable of the ensnared lion and the kindly and industrious mouse that came to his rescue, we learn afresh that the weak may often help the great.

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“Our behaviour is different. How often have you seen a headline like this?–TWO DIE ATTEMPTING RESCUE OF DROWNING CHILD. If a man gets lost in the mountains, hundreds will search and often two or three searchers are killed. But the next time somebody gets lost just as many volunteers turn out.
Poor arithmetic, but very human. It runs through all our folklore, all human religions, all our literature–a racial conviction that when one human needs rescue, others should not count the price.”

― Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers

“The piano keys are black and white but they sound like a million colours in your mind” ― Maria Cristina Mena, The Collected Stories of Maria Cristina Mena

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“Colour is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.”

Wassily Kandinsky

The silver swan, who living had no note, When death approached, unlocked her silent throat; Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more: ‘Farewell, all joys; Oh death, come close mine eyes; More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.’ 1612 TheFirst Set of Madrigals and Motets of Five Parts,’The Silver Swan’.

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Renee Winegarten :

Old age cannot be cured. An epoch or a civilization cannot be prevented from breathing its last. A natural process that happens to all flesh and all human manifestations cannot be arrested. You can only wring your hands and utter a beautiful swan song.

[Renee Winegarten (b. 1922), British author, critic. “The Idea of Decadence,” Commentary (New York, Sept. 1974).]

http://www.poemhunter.com/search/?a=0&w=quotation&q=SWAN&ord=&y=1&p=5

When you are shopping for a cow, make sure that the price of the tail is included.

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“To me the beauty of Ceylon lies not so much in its blue seas and golden beaches, its jungles and its mountain peaks, as in its ancient atmosphere. There is no nation, from Egypt of the Pharaohs to modern Britain, in whose literature this island has not at some time been mentioned by one or other of its many names…History lies buried in its sands, and ghosts of romance lurk among its bastioned rocks, for Lanka is very, very old.” D. J. G. Hennessy, GREEN AISLES, 1949

The heron blames the water because he cannot swim.

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“THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS”
by Wendell Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/berry/berry.html

Bakuba is far away, no person ever reached it.

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MT WARNING FROM TUMBULGUM

Bakuba is an ideal country. This proverb is used as a warning against undue ambition, or as advice to be content with that which is within reach. It is equivalent to our English saying, It is no use building castles in the air.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/afr/xft/xft27.htm

“A poet is a man who puts up a ladder to a star and climbs it while playing a violin.” ― Edmond de Goncourt

LODGE

There is nothing more to be said or to be done tonight, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our fellowmen.”

― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Five Orange Pips

foto – the lodge in bellingen 2014

Photography can never grow up if it imitates some other medium. It has to walk alone it has to be itself.” Berenice Abbott on Alone.

 

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But as in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of today, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been.

– from “Berenice”

Edgar Allan Poe.

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Some people are still unaware that reality contains unparalleled beauties. The fantastic and unexpected, the ever-changing and renewing is nowhere so exemplified as in real life itself.

Eat my bubbles.

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“Two bubbles found they had rainbows on their curves. 
They flickered out saying: 
“It was worth being a bubble, just to have held that rainbow thirty seconds.” 

― Carl Sandburg

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Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone,
KINDNESS in another’s trouble,
COURAGE in your own.”

Adam Lindsay Gordon.

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The Maitland Daily Mercury (NSW : 1894 – 1939), Saturday 6 May 1899, 

2 The Maitland Daily Mercury (NSW - 1894 - 1939), Saturday 6 May 1899,

It has been a bad season (year), like a frog being in hot water. Hausa.

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Wind by Ali Cobby Eckermann

she sits on a rocky ledge
overlooking frog song
puncturing a choked river
at dusk

it is only here native birds sing
their evening lullaby
echoed between red banks
overgrown with weeds

it’s like life slips away in the evening
a resounding of Salientia castanets
soon to fall silent
like flaking moss

she listens for earth song
under the algae and foreign reeds
and just as darkness falls
a fish jumps rippling memory

Big doesn’t necessarily mean better. Sunflowers aren’t better than violets. ~ Edna Ferber

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BLACK DOG AND SUNFLOWERS

LES MURRAY

The more presence, the more apart. And the more lives circling
you.
Falling, I gathered such presence that I fused to Star, beyond all
fission –
We face our leaves and ever-successive genitals toward you.
Presence is why we love what we cannot eat or mate with –
We are fed from attachment and you, our futures draw weight
from both, and droop.
All of my detached life lives on death or sexual casings –
The studded array of our worship struggles in the noon not to
lose you.
I pumped water to erect its turning, weighted its combs with
floury oil –
You are more intense than God, and fiercely dopey, and we
adore you.
Presence matches our speed; thus it seems not flow but all
arrivals –
We love your overbalance, your plunge into uttemess – but what
is presence?

Les Murray,

 

 

 

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http://ojs-prod.library.usyd.edu.au/index.php/SSR/article/viewFile/200/179

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