I’ve become a bit obsessed with this artist’s project: arachnophilia—an exploration of the architecture of webs and entanglements. It includes both a 2-dimensional and 3-dimensional digital archive of webs. AND a beautiful app of spider TAROT, which turns over a card when you share a picture of a web you’ve found(!). The artist, Tomás Saraceno, writes: “
Serendipity strikes again (love whenever that happens).
I just finished reading Jane Kenyon's "A Hundred White Daffodils". The book includes twenty poems by Anna Akhmatova. Akhmatova was a close friend of Osip Mandelstam. The poems were translated by Kenyon and Vera Sandomirsky Dunham. Kenyon's translations are free verse translations that Kenyon admits loose the lyrical nature of the poems, instead focusing on the "integrity of the image".
Which brings me to your photograph of the moose resting in your yard, and this verse from one of Akhmatova's poems that even in translation maintains the "beautiful clarity" her poetry is noted for.
Commonplacing
Indeed a moose’s world! ♥️
I'm grateful to be living in a moose's world and envious of your proximity to it!
Serendipity strikes again (love whenever that happens).
I just finished reading Jane Kenyon's "A Hundred White Daffodils". The book includes twenty poems by Anna Akhmatova. Akhmatova was a close friend of Osip Mandelstam. The poems were translated by Kenyon and Vera Sandomirsky Dunham. Kenyon's translations are free verse translations that Kenyon admits loose the lyrical nature of the poems, instead focusing on the "integrity of the image".
Which brings me to your photograph of the moose resting in your yard, and this verse from one of Akhmatova's poems that even in translation maintains the "beautiful clarity" her poetry is noted for.
"Willow, tree of nymphs,
Don't get in my way.
Shelter the black grackles, black
grackles among your snowy branches
Spider divination! One of those links says “Do spiders know everything?” Answer: yes. Also, that moose!!! Slaying me. Not worthy
“If the ache is nameless, how do I ask for ease?
If the I itself is exile, can the soul survive
Such private ice?”
These poems can be mind-blowing. Like this one. (I did end up getting this book for my father after you mentioned it.)