In The Fog 01 — Lake Townsend, Greensboro, NC, September 2008
Take a photograph of everything you love as soon as possible.
Love everything you love as much as possible.
It won’t be there long.
Neither will you.

Hiroshi Sugitomo: Ligurian Sea, near Saviore, 1993

At the temple there is a poem called ‘Loss’ carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it.

Sayuri, from Memoirs of a Geisha, written by Robin Swicord (Columbia Pictures, 2005)


If the dream is a translation of waking life, waking life is also a translation of the dream.

René Magritte 


Hiroshi Sugitomo: Sea of Japan, 1999

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by Pascal Laco  (pascallaco.tumblr.com)
Title: Gaspard de la nuit - I. Ondine
Artist: Herbert Schuch
Album: Nachtstücke


It’s time
you learned that ears can taste,
and eyes remember, and the tongue
and nostrils see like fingertips
in any dark.
                            Think back
or look around, and all you know
is what your body taught you:

– Samuel Hazo, from “Who Promised You Tomorrow?,” And the Time Is: Poems, 1958-2013 (Syracuse University Press, 2014)