Posts tagged flowers

Flowers toss their heads outside the window. I see wild birds, and impulses wilder than the wildest birds strike from my wild heart. My eyes are wild; my lips tight pressed. The bird flies; the flower dances; but I hear always the sullen thud of the waves; and the chained beast stamps on the beach. It stamps and stamps.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via weaverofstars)

violentwavesofemotion

poor fleurs, subjected (as just about everything in this house must eventually be) to my mother’s scathing scrutiny. these were “more pink than [she] would have chosen for this time of year, and they can’t be a centerpiece at mealtime, but at least they’ll make the house smell nice.” (should i be grateful that she in her infinite clemency didn’t toss them on sight?) i now love them more than i otherwise would have, of course. they’ll be here for as long as i can keep them going.

poor fleurs, subjected (as just about everything in this house must eventually be) to my mother’s scathing scrutiny. these were “more pink than [she] would have chosen for this time of year, and they can’t be a centerpiece at mealtime, but at least they’ll make the house smell nice.” (should i be grateful that she in her infinite clemency didn’t toss them on sight?) i now love them more than i otherwise would have, of course. they’ll be here for as long as i can keep them going.

somewhere on Belvedere Island, circa 11:30 this morning. how incredible it would be to see this each day and think, “home.” via PhotoToaster, using these settings.

somewhere on Belvedere Island, circa 11:30 this morning. how incredible it would be to see this each day and think, “home.”


via PhotoToaster, using these settings.
Fleurs, in my backyard. It’s sunny here, with the breeze moderating temperature, and I’m trying to ignore the pastorality of it all as I head inside to practice.

Fleurs, in my backyard. It’s sunny here, with the breeze moderating temperature, and I’m trying to ignore the pastorality of it all as I head inside to practice.

buying flowers for my mother and my grandmother today.

my mother and i are known more for our long-winded arguments and power struggles than we are for token gestures, but i love her below (above?) all that. she’s not one for presents, but the sun just peeked out from behind the sullen amalgam of cloud and fog, and my bike deserves to be used for its intended purpose. as do we all, in the end.

and my grandmother? i missed her birthday dinner in favor of singing in my school choir’s spring concert, and she is always surprised and delighted by spontaneous expressions of love and gratitude. i wholly resemble her in this respect, and this is all i need do to light up her entire week. i’m happy to oblige.