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Eutierria
I stand in the tall grass at dusk and the wind caresses my face, my neck, the inside of my arms; it runs its fingers through my hair. I raise my arms for the full embrace and it runs at me like it missed me. The grass sways and so do I with my eyes closed. My arms come down around me and I rub down the raised hair. I open my eyes and the sky bleeds red and gold between the grey and purple clouds. I feel the grains of soil beneath my feet and I curl my toes.
I taste the salt in the air and feel the water that makes it hang heavy cling to my skin. My hair curl up and stick to my face. My feet leave impressions in the sand as I walk down into the rolling waves. The water moves past me and then slides back, taking sand from under my feet. It tickles. I see the shells and pick some. Smooth. Rough. Patterned. Plain. Here, the waves roll lazily onto the sand. There, in the distance, they rise high and crash against the black rocks with unfettered force.
I pluck mushrooms that grow in the shade of trees. Golden sunlight filters through the forest canopy and I see the dust that makes up everything. A gale blows up in the high branches and I hear the rustling of the leaves; light and shadow dance on the forest floor. I hear the steady buzz of cicadas, some chitters, some croaks, the screech of a hawk. They sing their song and I listen. The trees exhale and I inhale and so on we breathe life into one another.
I wedge my fingers between the cracks in the granite and haul myself up. My muscles burn. I am drenched with sweat; it stings my eyes. The rock is hot from the sun and it digs into the skin of my hands; it scrapes my knees. I see the next foothold, the next finger-hold, and clamber on up. I am three thousand feet up on the face of a batholith. Gravity taunts me but adrenaline sings in my veins. I grin. I am almost at the top. The rock juts out a little here; I grab a hold of it and swing myself up. I see soil and tree roots. I crawl up to the flat ground. I walk. Then I’m laughing.
I trudge through the snow that comes up to my knees. The cold bites my face and I part my lips to taste it. I inhale it and it sting my lungs, as if chiding. I smirk and pull my coat closer around myself. My breath condenses in front of my face. The moonlight bathes everything in a silver glow. Stars are spread like grains of sugar in the night sky. On the horizon, over a swath of pines, green and violet lights dance in the sky. The ground slopes up beneath my feet and I am out of the thick snow. I sit on a bare rock under a cedar. Somewhere above me, an owl hoots.
I smell the Sulphur before I see them. The hot springs. Soil gives away to hot rock. I see the steam rise above the water. I dip a foot in it and wince – it’s scalding. Slowly, I walk in until I am submerged till the shoulders. In a few seconds, my body welcomes the heat. My muscles relax and I sigh. I crane my neck up and see the white clouds float in the blue sky.
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“And when her cheek the moon revealed, a thousand hearts were won: no pride, no shield, could check her power. Layla, she was called.”
Cordelia belongs to @cassandraclare , bringer of tears and lots of excited giggling over all the Jordelia goodness in ChOI! ;)
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To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other, and to feel. That is the purpose of life.
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Cinematography by: Joshua James Richards
Nomadland (2020)
Directed by Chloé Zhao
Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1
Soon as Chloé started talking about “Nomadland,” I thought, “This is a camera that needs to move with Fern (Frances McDormand). We gotta be in a fluid, mercurial motion through this movie.” And Chloe agreed. It’s all about grounding you in Fern’s perspective, and the audience feeling like they are moving with her. I always said, “It’s like a rollercoaster.” Scorsese used that [to describe] Marvel movies, and I thought, “Why’s that a criticism? Riding a rollercoaster is what movies are like for me.”
— Joshua James Richards for IndieWire, April 2021
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Me reading Tumblr text posts on instagram: omg this is my happy place
Me on Tumblr: what happened here? This is post-apocalyptic social media.
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Nolan: I want Robert Pattinson to be in my new movie
Robert Pattinson: that's right I've evolved from pretty vamp boy
Nolan: we live in a twilight world
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Everything beautiful is faraway.
Loved this movie omg 😍
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You ever have a sad dream and you wake up feeling sad and you just can't shake it off even though you don't remember the dream???
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“Has it ever struck you that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going?”
— Tennessee Williams, from The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore (New Directions, 1964)
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Where shall I find you?
In the moss between the bricks,
Or on a thorn that pricks
My finger when I reach for the rose
That inspired a lovely prose.
Where shall I find you?
In the ripples of fiery clouds,
Or beneath the dark blue sea that shrouds
Arcane knowledge of the past and the future?
Where shall I find you?
For you are lost to me
And there's nothing that I yearn for
As far as I can see.
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Let it be true
“She remembered it was August and they say August brings bad luck. But September would arrive one day like an exit. And September was for some reason a lighter and more transparent month.”
— Clarice Lispector, from “In Search for a Dignity,” The Complete Stories (New Directions, 2015) (via ophiraa)
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The eyebrow rise
I repeat
THE 👏
EYEBROW 👏
RISE 👏
Y'ALL 👏
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