Le Premiere Bonheur du Jour

 
Le Premiere Bonheur du Jour
(The First Joy of the Day)

The first joy of the day
Is a ribbon of sunshine
Unwinding in your hands
Caressing my shoulder

It’s the ocean sighing
And the beach that stretches before me
It’s the bird that sings
From a frozen tree

The first sorrow of the day
Is the front door closing
The car driving away
The silence that visits me

But soon you come home
And life comes back to me
The last joy of the day
Is the lamp lighting your way

Don't Waste Time. Start Now.

Loved Debbie Millman's Commencement speech....
"If you imagine less, less will be what you undoubtedly deserve. Do what you love, and don’t stop until you get what you love. Work as hard as you can, imagine immensities, don’t compromise, and don’t waste time. Start now. Not 20 years from now, not two weeks from now. Now."
 


(via)

Lately

I love tulip season. I love how they lean, don't you?

+ Novelists talking about other art forms.  I loved hearing about Colm Tolbin's love for opera, in particular.  I agree with this bit - when he writes:
"It is easy to feel that life itself, during a soaring aria or a moment when a melody lifts, is at its most perfect and pure. Or just that the music is perfect and pure. To hell with life!"
+ Miniature Art.

+ Hurricane on Saturn.
+ Motherhood...in Charts.
+ Ramp season.
+ This conversation.
+ This broccoli slaw recipe.

Have a great weekend.

Tilda Swinton / W Mag

Loved these super surreal beautiful photographs of Tilda Swinton by Tim Walker in this month's W.

 

More here. 

The Negro Speaks Of Rivers / Langston Hughes

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.