“Bees”

a first poem in the new yorker of a former ta of mine—a graduate student in comparative literature at yale. more bees.

silence here—given the thrill of greek at sunrise, or our small, three-student class on the symposium, and hamlet over tea and cookies at harold’s and morning conferences with louise about my poem with the boy obsessed with marbles and tea with moira after class to discuss feminism and latin american literatures and an afternoon on the ending of mondor’s biography of mallarmé with rhb. nothing not good about this semester. sleepless, yes, but thrilling, but brilliant, but everything everything.

continuing the series of prevented portraits & the series of birds. owls for an evening. originally exhibited by audrey corregan in 2008. (more.)

continuing the series of prevented portraits & the series of birds. owls for an evening. originally exhibited by audrey corregan in 2008. (more.)

(Source: notesondesign, via mustangblood)

someone is going to say “i have to go to the moon” in a bored, defeated tone one day

small truths, perhaps only wishful thinking

(Source: itsvondell, via remuslupinly)

its-teatime:

Ti tracce di tè by Giulia Tumaini, Sara Ortolani + Francesca Barban

Ti is a packaging of tea bags. It uses some of the product characteristics, such as the different colors of the leaves, and solves the functional problem of the position of the bags used. The user is involved in the realization of personal traces, always different, that he may share. Drink tea becomes not a monotone routine act, but a surprising moment.

divination, strained and without the tea leaves

(via remuslupinly)

"We tell ourselves stories in order to live."

Joan Didion, The White Album

note to self for writing my bio.

bookmarks for fall cooking: blackberry goat cheese thumbprint cookies, blackberry cabernet sorbet, & 40-minute swedish chocolate cake.

"Look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Be curious."

Stephen Hawking

looking forward to seeing the theory of everything with, yes, a critical eye: beautiful people and oxford and physics—an alluring type of romanticization—but how much of internal sadnesses beyond that?

(Source: thatquote, via ginandbird)

sea lavender, stone with a vein, letter opener.

"They might ignore me immediately
In my moon suit and funeral veil.
I am no source of honey
So why should they turn on me?"

Sylvia Plath, ‘The Arrival of the Bee Box’, October 1962
cp. bees in picardie