Friday, April 15, 2011





Here is what I can tell you: (I can't tell you anything)
The best way I can describe it to you is: (I can't describe it at all)

Those of you who also carry lost childhoods that are captured far away in grey never-never lands will know what I mean when I say, well-- what I mean to say is that I am

lost.

I am sorry to bring you news of sorrow, but that is the only way I will be able to communicate with you and you and the white moon at night and the small animals that run and the mockingbirds that sing [from now on]. If they sing. If they keep singing. How does one keep singing, bird or human? How does one? How? There must be ways-- there must be recipes and tips and tied-up tricks for those who encapsulate sorrow, heaps and heaps of dusty brown books locked up in library towers that you stumble upon only after climbing 67 flights of winding stairs; perhaps-- perhaps! entitled: "The Joy Of Finding One's Voice (Once More); For The Lost, Vol. 1, 2, 3 and infinity"--
I'd like a first edition copy.

5 comments:

  1. The photos are so delicate, so magical...I do hope you find your way. I've been feeling a bit lost lately too.

    xx Carina

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  2. OH i am so very sorry to hear the bad news! I have no words for situations like that, though I understand what you are feeling right now completely. I am glad the letter from me had such good timing and could bring at least a little comfort to your worried heart. I do look forward to hearing from you, and I am sure that things will be a lot calmer soon.

    All my love dear,
    K

    <3

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  4. darling, I just have to stop and say, your photographs, everytime, are absolutely magnificent... oh if one day I could manage to be as talented as you.. that would be a dream. (you are one of my inspirations)

    x

    never stop.

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  5. Angelica, deer. This is so, so, so beautiful: the magical photographs and the heart-stopping words. It could be the beginning of a book. Perhaps a book is what you need to write, to overcome the sorrows. Sending you all of my love and a palmful of moondust, x

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