..and little thoughts and things
Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.

Museum of Contemporary Art Australia.


Last night: Efterklang with the Sydney Symphony.
Tonight: My Brightest Diamond.
Both nights: at the Sydney Opera House.

(how has this been real life.)

We have been called to participate in the world’s creation from the very beginning. Making music. Baking Cakes. Sewing curtains. These things mean something greater: that we have been known from the very start. Our eye color, our hairline, our jawline, the shape of our big toe, the tone of our voice. These things have been designed from the very beginning. What kind of music we listen to. The sort of skirt that looks good. The baseball cap, the tennis shoe, the orange bandana. We have been made to find these things for ourselves and take them in as ours, like adopted children: habits, hobbies, idiosyncrasies, gestures, moods, tastes, tendencies, worries. They have been put in us for good measure.

Perhaps we dont like what we see: our hips, our loss of hair, our shoe size, our dimples, our knuckles too big, our eating habits, our disposition. We have disclosed these things in secret, likes and dislikes, behind doors with locks, our lonely rooms, our messy desks, our empty hearts, our sudden bursts of energy, our sudden bouts of depression. Don’t worry. Put away your mirrors and your beauty magazines and your books on tape. There is someone right here who knows you more than you do, who is making room on the couch, who is fixing a meal, who is putting on your favorite record, who is listening intently to what you have to say, who is standing there with you, face to face, hand to hand, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. There is no space left uncovered. This is where you belong.

— Sufjan Stevens  (via alexissmith)

(Source: rymillar, via alexissmith)

“God’s Grandeur”, Gerard Manley Hopkins

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed.  Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;

    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; 

And though the last lights off the black West went

    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

lalalaa. australia, here i come.

: D

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

paperday:

an empty room

a fridge door

a trash can

a kombucha bottle

a knife

and me.

thisisgood.

also, this.

also, this.


fun fact:  oatmeal is my “school-is-overwhelming-and-i-need-something-cozy-to-soothe-my-heart-and-tummy” coping comfort food.  an end of the semester staple, for sure.
plus, let’s be real. i’m a college student and have almost no food in my kitchen.
rolled oats are cheap and they keep.  winner winner.

fun fact:  oatmeal is my “school-is-overwhelming-and-i-need-something-cozy-to-soothe-my-heart-and-tummy” coping comfort food.  an end of the semester staple, for sure.

plus, let’s be real. i’m a college student and have almost no food in my kitchen.

rolled oats are cheap and they keep.  winner winner.


marygrace, caitlyn, and me with the most beautiful bride in all the land, Mrs. Ashley Collins Saunders. !!!

marygrace, caitlyn, and me with the most beautiful bride in all the land, Mrs. Ashley Collins Saunders. !!!


nebulosity terrifies me.

solidity paralyzes me.

i’m a scared kid, generally.

but Your nebulously solid hand holding mine

promises of pure smile & yes.

and in Your eyes, i see that falling is okay.



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