But then there comes that moment rare When, for no cause that I can find, The little voices of the air Sound above all the sea and wind.
The sea and wind do then obey And sighing, sighing double notes Of double basses, content to play A droning chord for the little throats—
The little throats that sing and rise Up into the light with lovely ease And a kind of magical, sweet surprise To hear and know themselves for these—
For these little voices: the bee, the fly, The leaf that taps, the pod that breaks, The breeze on the grass-tops bending by, The shrill quick sound that the insect makes.
When I am feeling depressed and anxious sullen all you have to do is take your clothes off and all is wiped away revealing life’s tenderness that we are flesh and breathe and are near us as you are really as you are I become as I really am alive and knowing vaguely what is and what is important to me above the intrusions of incident and accidental relationships which have nothing to do with my life
when I am in your presence I feel life is strong and will defeat all its enemies and all of mine and all of yours and yours in you and mine in me sick logic and feeble reasoning are cured by the perfect symmetry of your arms and legs spread out making an eternal circle together creating a golden pillar beside the Atlantic the faint line of hair dividing your torso gives my mind rest and emotions their release into the infinite air where since once we are together we always will be in this life come what may
Onajide has prepared a solo exhibition set to open on 31 May, 6 pm (18 hr) at 101 NW 79th Street, Miami, FL. If you’re in town please accept this as an invitation to stop by. The exhibition is titled, Murmur.
In the beginning, there was your mouth: soft rose, rose murmur, murmured breath, a warm
cardinal wind that drew my needle north. Magnetic flux, the press of form to form.
The Avicultural magazine, Being the Journal of the Avicultural Society for the study of British and foreign birds in freedom and captivity. Edited by the Marquess of Tavistock. Fourth Series, Volume II. January 1924 to December 1924. biodiversitylibrary.org/page/56200435
Evelyn Sosa and Legna Rodríguez Iglesias, an interview in Artishock Revista.
¿Cuál fue el objeto que más te impresionó y el que menos?
Hasta ahora el objeto que más me ha impresionado ha sido el del hombre que trajo solamente la foto de su madre envuelta en una bolsa de nylon guardada en su bolsillo, cuando vino en balsa. En algún punto del viaje él se tiró al mar lleno de tiburones, nadó hacia un helicóptero y la foto sobrevivió. Con eso fue con lo único que llegó y ahí estaba treinta años después.
Otra persona que entrevisté me enseñó el peine que hizo su abuelo a mano, a partir de una plancha de metal que se había encontrado en los años treinta, y que su abuelo antes de morir pidió que se lo dieran a él, que en ese momento tenía once años y que ahora lo narra prácticamente sin que las lágrimas le permitieran hablar. A veces se repiten objetos, como las fotografías o, por ejemplo, el libro Distintos modos de cavar un túnel de Juan Carlos Flores. Aunque el objeto se parezca o se repita, las historias que cargan son diferentes. Es realmente sorprendente y maravilloso.
¿Había diferencias de emociones entre retratar el objeto y retratar a su dueño?
Siempre hay diferencias. Incluso de persona a persona cada entrevista se conduce de manera diferente, es improvisado, impredecible. Hay quienes dan más valor a la entrevista, hay quienes lo toman más ligero, y eso influye en mí para hacer las fotografías. Aunque no se pierde la esencia de la manera en la que me gusta retratar, cercano, medio intrusivo y con compasión, si cabe eso.
Para hacer las fotografías de los objetos yo me separo, monto un set y ahí somos solo el objeto y yo. Es diferente. Para mí el objeto tiene extrema importancia y yo quiero magnificarlo; quiero, sin modificarlo, hacerlo bello. Me interesa que se vea bello, que se sienta que es algo importante. Yo me arrodillo ante el objeto cuando lo estoy fotografiando.
California gardeners plant native species in parks to prevent wildfire spread. The Guardian. terremoto.la
‘… where pleasure and beauty and hours with no quantifiable practical result fit into the life of someone, perhaps of anyone, who also cared about justice and truth and human rights and how to change the world.”
a particular kind of flower [or form] around which a vast edifice of human responses has arisen
Thought, sunshine, flowers: they wanted intangible as well as tangible goods, pleasures as well as necessities, and the time to pursue them, the time to have an inner life and freedom to roam the outer world.
The cycle of rupture and repair is a requirement of living, a cost of surviving, something that goes hand in hand with another reality of survival: that, throughout your life, you may not only lose people but also gain them.
they spend at least some of whatever time they have left stitching together small pieces that, eventually, might make something big enough to be meaningful.
