After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldos Huxley
Monday, January 17, 2005
Colorado River
Laughlin, Nevada
After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldos Huxley
After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldos Huxley
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Redwoods
Santa Barbara, California
For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious
than if it were made of gold and silver.
Martin Luther
For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious
than if it were made of gold and silver.
Martin Luther
Gateway to Paradise
Las Vegas, Nevada
A stranger here
Strange things doth meet, strange glories see;
Strange treasures lodged in this fair world appear,
Strange all, and new to me.
But that they mine should be, who nothing was,
That strangest is of all, yet brought to pass.
Thomas Traherne (1637-1674)
A stranger here
Strange things doth meet, strange glories see;
Strange treasures lodged in this fair world appear,
Strange all, and new to me.
But that they mine should be, who nothing was,
That strangest is of all, yet brought to pass.
Thomas Traherne (1637-1674)
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Times Square
New York City, New York
In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.
Willa Cather (1873–1947), U.S. novelist. Jim Burden, in My Antonia, book V, ch. 1 (1918; rev. 1926).
In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.
Willa Cather (1873–1947), U.S. novelist. Jim Burden, in My Antonia, book V, ch. 1 (1918; rev. 1926).
Friday, January 14, 2005
Times Square
New York City, New York
For the perfect idler, for the passionate observer it becomes an immense source of enjoyment to establish his dwelling in the throng, in the ebb and flow, the bustle, the fleeting and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel at home anywhere; to see the world, to be at the very center of the world, and yet to be unseen of the world, such are some of the minor pleasures of those independent, intense and impartial spirits, who do not lend themselves easily to linguistic definitions. The observer is a prince enjoying his incognito wherever he goes.
Charles Baudelaire
For the perfect idler, for the passionate observer it becomes an immense source of enjoyment to establish his dwelling in the throng, in the ebb and flow, the bustle, the fleeting and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel at home anywhere; to see the world, to be at the very center of the world, and yet to be unseen of the world, such are some of the minor pleasures of those independent, intense and impartial spirits, who do not lend themselves easily to linguistic definitions. The observer is a prince enjoying his incognito wherever he goes.
Charles Baudelaire
Lexington Local - At Bleeker
New York City, New York
I leave you, home,
when I’m ripped from the doorstep
by commerce or fate. Then I submit
to the awful subway of the world....
Anne Sexton
I leave you, home,
when I’m ripped from the doorstep
by commerce or fate. Then I submit
to the awful subway of the world....
Anne Sexton
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Lexington Local
New York City, New York
I, who travel most often for my pleasure, do not direct myself so badly. If it looks ugly on the right, I take the left; if I find myself unfit to ride my horse, I stop....Have I left something unseen behind me? I go back; it is still on my road. I trace no fixed line, either straight or crooked.
Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592), French essayist
I, who travel most often for my pleasure, do not direct myself so badly. If it looks ugly on the right, I take the left; if I find myself unfit to ride my horse, I stop....Have I left something unseen behind me? I go back; it is still on my road. I trace no fixed line, either straight or crooked.
Michel de Montaigne (1533–1592), French essayist
Times Square
New York City, New York
To the attentive eye, each movement of the year has
it's own beauty, and in the fame field it beholds, every
hour, a picture which was never seen before
and which shall never be seen again.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
To the attentive eye, each movement of the year has
it's own beauty, and in the fame field it beholds, every
hour, a picture which was never seen before
and which shall never be seen again.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Bird of Paradise
Los Angeles, California
I, the fiery life of divine essence, am aflame beyond the beauty of the meadows, I gleam in the waters, and I burn in the sun, moon, and stars....I awaken everything to life.
Hildergard of Bingen
I, the fiery life of divine essence, am aflame beyond the beauty of the meadows, I gleam in the waters, and I burn in the sun, moon, and stars....I awaken everything to life.
Hildergard of Bingen
Helmsley Building
New York City, New York
What would it mean to live
in a city whose people were changing
each other’s despair into hope?—
You yourself must change it.
Adrienne Rich
What would it mean to live
in a city whose people were changing
each other’s despair into hope?—
You yourself must change it.
Adrienne Rich
Central Synagogue - Lexington Avenue
New York City, New York
Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
Henry Miller
Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.
Henry Miller
Monte Carlo
Las Vegas, Nevada
I would have touched it like a child
But knew my finger could but have touched
Cold stone and water.
I grew wild,
Even accusing heaven because
It had set down among its laws:
Nothing that we love over-much
Is ponderable to our touch.
W. B. Yeats
I would have touched it like a child
But knew my finger could but have touched
Cold stone and water.
I grew wild,
Even accusing heaven because
It had set down among its laws:
Nothing that we love over-much
Is ponderable to our touch.
W. B. Yeats
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Bergdorf Goodman
New York City, New York
Each dream finds at last its form; there is a drink for every thirst, and love for every heart. And there is no better way to spend your life than in the unceasing preoccupation of an idea—of an ideal.
Gustave Flaubert
Each dream finds at last its form; there is a drink for every thirst, and love for every heart. And there is no better way to spend your life than in the unceasing preoccupation of an idea—of an ideal.
Gustave Flaubert
Times Square
New York City, New York
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark....
T.S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot
O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,
The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark....
T.S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot
Park Avenue
New York City, New York
Were we positive, eager, real—alive? No, we were not. We were a nothingness shot with gleams of what might be.
Katherine Mansfield
Were we positive, eager, real—alive? No, we were not. We were a nothingness shot with gleams of what might be.
Katherine Mansfield
Park Avenue
New York City, New York
Throw away the lights, the definitions,
And say of what you see in the dark
That it is this or that it is that,
But do not use the rotted names.
Wallace Stevens
Throw away the lights, the definitions,
And say of what you see in the dark
That it is this or that it is that,
But do not use the rotted names.
Wallace Stevens
Midtown
New York City, New York
Age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Monday, January 10, 2005
Santa Barbara Mission Rose
Santa Barbara, California
The comfortable and comforting people are those who look upon
the bright side of life; gathering its roses and sunshine and making
the most that happens seem the best.
Dorothy Dix
The comfortable and comforting people are those who look upon
the bright side of life; gathering its roses and sunshine and making
the most that happens seem the best.
Dorothy Dix
Midtown
New York City, New York
In city, in suburb, in forest, no way to stretch out the arms so if you would grow, go straight up or deep down.
Denise Levertov
In city, in suburb, in forest, no way to stretch out the arms so if you would grow, go straight up or deep down.
Denise Levertov
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Nevada Winter
Las Vegas, Nevada
In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.
Christina Rossetti
In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.
Christina Rossetti
Saturday, January 08, 2005
Friday, January 07, 2005
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Las Vegas Boulevard Rose
Las Vegas, Nevada
Observe this dew-drenched rose of Tyrian gardens
A rose today. But you will ask in vain
Tomorrow what it is; and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains.
Christina Rosetti
Observe this dew-drenched rose of Tyrian gardens
A rose today. But you will ask in vain
Tomorrow what it is; and yesterday
It was the dust, the sunshine, and the rains.
Christina Rosetti
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Saturday, January 01, 2005
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