what immortal hand or eye...

These nature illustrations are far more gorgeous than anything my brain could ever dream to conjure and the intricacy and practicality and the sheer exhuastive amount of species and interconnectedness that we humans somehow haven't completely destroyed only cements my childhood residual notions of Creator design genius that the majority of folk in my world would scoff at and tell me to move to Texas or something, but hey I'd prefer the company of William Blake to Dawkins & Co. any day.

Someday when I'm not hovering above the poverty line I'd love to have these kinds of things on the coffee table along with Harry Clarke and Fursy. In the meantime, there's the Internet, and it's for sharing such wonders and frequent fearful symmetry.

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?


What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

grottoes

Someplace cool and subterranean, I wish there was something like that here. These were the kinds of things that fascinated me as a kid but I never knew how to find out more about them. Thank you Internets!

a beautiful shell for all to see

A few cups of coffee, a weekend of walking under evergreens by waterfalls, and hospitality given and received. Among the processing of the messedupness, there is time to laugh and just be, safe in the presence of others with whome there's history of one kind or another without needing to feel like I need to hide beneath the coils, swirls and twists.