Alberto Manguel ~ Dreaming About Books
“We can imagine the books we'd like to read, even if they have not yet been written, and we can imagine libraries full of books we would like to possess, even if they are well beyond our reacher, because we enjoy dreaming up a library that reflects every one of our interests and every one of our foibles--a library that, in its variety and complexity, fully reflects the reader we are.”
Alberto Manguel , The Library at Night


Photo by J. Stephenson
Haruki Murakami ~ Oblivion
“Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”
Haruki Murakami
Felix Vallotton ~ Returned From The Beach
Felix Vallotton
"Returned from the beach" 1924
Anais Nin ~ The Reality Of A Real Woman
"Woman’s role in creation should be parallel to her role in life. I don’t mean the good earth. I mean the bad earth too, the demon, the instincts, the storms of nature. Tragedies, conflicts, mysteries are personal. Man fabricated a detachment which became fatal. Woman must not fabricate. She must descend into the real womb and expose its secrets and its labyrinths. She must describe it as the city of Fez, with its Arabian Nights gentleness, tranquility and mystery. She must describe the voracious moods, the desires, the worlds contained in each cell of it. For the womb has dreams. It is not as simple as the good earth. I believe at times that man created art out of fear of exploring woman. I believe woman stuttered about herself out of fear of what she had to say. She covered herself with taboos and veils. Man invented a woman to suit his needs. He disposed of her by identifying her with nature and then paraded his contemptuous domination of nature. But woman is not nature only.
She is the mermaid with her fish-tail dipped in the unconscious."
Anais Nin
If Music Be The Food Of Love…
William A. Breakspeare (c 1855-1914)
If Music be the Food of Love

If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.”
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night
Henry Miller ~ His Passion For Anais Nin
"Anaïs, I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me. [...] This is a little drunken, Anaïs. I am saying to myself "here is the first woman with whom I can be absolutely sincere." I remember your saying - "you could fool me, I wouldn't know it." When I walk along the boulevards and think of that. I can't fool you - and yet I would like to. I mean that I can never be absolutely loyal - it's not in me. I love women, or life, too much - which it is, I don't know. But laugh, Anaïs, I love to hear you laugh. You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance - no more, you seem to urge me to betray you. I love you for that. [...]
I don't know what to expect of you, but it is something in the way of a miracle. I am going to demand everything of you - even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me."

Henry Miller (A Literate Passion : Letters of Anais Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953)
W.h. Auden ~ Dance, Dance, Dance Till You Drop
James Abbot McNeill Whistler  (1894-1903)
A Dancing woman in a Pink robe, seen from the back
Dance till the stars come down from the rafters
Dance, Dance, Dance till you drop.
~W.H. Auden


"I love to dance, it does not matter if it is a Tango, a Foxtrot, a Samba or a Jive, just like to move my body on the rhythm of music…I just can not sit still. Other people get their kick out of shopping, playing Foxy Bingo, or singing. But as for me, dancing is my thing. The dance floor has always been my comfort zone.
Dancing is a natural movement of the body and has always been popular! Personally I love the music of the roaring twenties, the swinging age...in music, dances, dresses and names like Heavenly Sugar and Shining Pearl.
Otto Dix, "Metropolis," 1927-28.
Anais Nin ~ I Am So Tired…
"I am the most tired woman in the world. I am tired when I get up. Life requires an effort I cannot make. Please give me that heavy book. I need to put something heavy like that on top of my head. I have to place my feet under the pillows always, so as to be able to stay on earth. Otherwise I feel myself going away, going away at a tremendous speed, on account of my lightness. I know that I am dead. As soon as I utter a phrase my sincerity dies, becomes a lie whose coldness chills me. Don't say anything, because I see that you understand me, and I am afraid of your understanding. I have such a fear of finding another like myself, and such a desire to find one! I am so utterly lonely, but I also have such a fear that my isolation be broken through, and I no longer be the head and ruler of my universe. I am in great terror of your understanding by which you penetrate into my world; and then I stand revealed and I have to share my kingdom with you."
Anais Nin
Photo Carl van Vechten (1880-1964)
Childe Hassam ~ On True Impressionism
The true impressionism is realism. So many people do not observe. They take the ready-made axioms laid down by others, and walk blindly in a rut without trying to see for themselves.
Childe Hassam
Improvisation
Neil Gaiman ~ Fragile Things
“She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood.
She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.”
Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things