October 17,2010

in a slit


in a slit
of life and memory
grows each of us
forgetting beings
made of vital matter

mei_island發表於 樂多16:12

October 21,2010

what is a woman

But first we must ask: what is a woman?
-- Simone de Beauvoir

mei_island發表於 樂多14:45anthropos

October 20,2010


What is the object of forgiveness? Insults, of course, any moral and physical wound, and eventually, death.
-- Julia Kristeva

mei_island發表於 樂多16:03psyche

October 18,2010



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October 16,2010

moments of illness

It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.
-- Marcel Proust

mei_island發表於 樂多21:28words

October 13,2010

a diary

Keeping a diary was a way that Woolf learned to respect herself, to teach herself that her life had significance, and to give her life significance.
-- Louise Desalvo (1989, Virginia Woolf)

mei_island發表於 樂多20:36words

October 9,2010

naked wall

a map
of tree roots
with lights on
the naked wall
a deserted house
my heart or yours

mei_island發表於 樂多19:34

September 28,2010

Judith Butler

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September 27,2010



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September 26,2010

intellect and creativity

Apparently it is not good- and indeed it hinders the creative work of the mind- if the intellect examines too closely the ideas already pouring in, as it were, at the gates. Regarded in isolation, an idea may be quite insignificant, and venturesome in the extreme, but it may acquire importance from an idea which follows it; perhaps, in a certain collocation with other ideas, which may seem equally absurd, it may be capable of furnishing a very serviceable link. The intellect cannot judge all these ideas unless it can retain them until it has considered them in connection with these other ideas. In the case of a creative mind, it seems to me, the intellect has withdrawn its watchers from the gates, and the ideas rush in pell-mell, and only then does it review and inspect the multitude. You worthy critics, or whatever you may call yourselves, are ashamed or afraid of the momentary and passing madness which is found in all real creators, the longer or shorter duration of which distinguishes the thinking artist from the dreamer. Hence your complaints of unfruitfulness, for you reject too soon and discriminate too severely.
-- Friedrich Schiller

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