Time alone, this is not good for me. I am become the solitude of trees, whose emblem is the forest, but whose heart is wooden in its loneliness, apart from one another as they are, and, yet, God knows what isn't so, and what is best. I trust in Thee, O King, and shall refrain from ever leaving company again.
The people come with purpose and they leave without dismay,
the coffee shop aromas rising all throughout the day.
I watch them come, I watch them go, I watch them say their names,
and talk, and linger on the subject, and forget to pay.
How very human are we that we do not know the way,
and yet we wander in the dark, and try, and try again.
I love the people comin...
Depression Cherry, the fifth studio album by Indie "dream pop" band Beach House, is both cavernous and expansive. Whilst listening, I am at times trapped within my own skull, and at others I dwell in a boundless realm of dreams and unborn territories, of which I am both sovereign and the slave. What is fascinating about the experience is that I am never quite certain as to the geography of the space I aurally occupy, and this...
There is an old Greek fable that goes as follows. Two flowers, a rose and an amaranth (the latter an immortal purple flower), are having a conversation, as flowers do. In a rare retelling I once heard, the amaranth at one point turns to the rose and asks it, ‘Why are you so beautiful?’—the fact implicit in the question, of course, being that the amaranth’s beauty for some reason falls short of that of the rose, who then replie...