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'For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves.
I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand,
I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on the chair.
I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine.
I spill without staining, and I leave without stirring the air.
I do it for love. For love, I disappear.'
I was
the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes,
the one with an old red hook in her mouth,
the mouth that kept bleeding
into the terrible fields of her soul.
The one who kept dropping off to sleep,
for hours and hours
and then she’d wake,
after the small death,
and then she’d be as soft as,
as delicate as,
an excess of light,
with nothing dangerous at all,
with no trap doors,
with nothing more honest
than your hand in her hand -
with nobody, nobody, but you. Anne Sexton
.
“All my desires are born of my dreams. And I have proven my love with words. To what fantastic creatures have I entrusted myself, in what dolorous and ravishing world has my imagination enclosed me? I am sure of having been loved in the most mysterious of domains, my own. The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love. My amorous imagination has always been constant and high enough so that nothing could attempt to convince me of error.”
— Paul Éluard, At the Window
Posted by Leanna - Monday, April 27, 2015 - 10:41pm
The memories of the past inhere in what might be called the "Soul Memory" or in that portion of the person called the Atman (Over-Soul or Sutratma)-- in other words, in the Permanent Identity which periodically reembodies for each earthly experience. Through meditation one stills the conscious mind process and once the habitual state of agitated thought is transcended, the center of consciousness of the personality-self becomes identified with the center of consciousness of the Soul-Self. In this state, one obtains clear access to the past and future.
-- Gina Cerminara, Many Lives, Many Loves
Posted by Leanna - Monday, April 27, 2015 - 3:00pm
“It is dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling.”
— Aldous Huxley
For this particular set that David and I created together, I desired to be captured in my most natural form, free from nearly all cosmetic constraint. Although this aspect was indeed very liberating, I had been unexpectedly perplexed with an onset of emotions during the culmination of these photographs. Happiness, sadness, unease, and revelation all accompanied me during the creation process, much to my dismay. I have been plagued with a longing that I can never quite satiate. This feeling encompasses me like the ghost of a long-lost lover, and she is so much a part of me-- all at once disturbing and comforting-- that I can't quite let her go. Regardless of bouts of fluctuating temperament (and perhaps empowered by them), I am pleased beyond words at the end result. Behold, Leanna and her ghosts.
