-Rainer Maria Rilke
-Audrey Hepburn [one of my favourite quotes ever]
The point of what went on in front of me
I kept what moved me, forgot about the rest
And took my young imagination to the acid test
And it was easy then to say where love could go
It's so easy when love is all you know
About my imagination, it got me through somehow
Without my imagination, I wouldn't be here now
[Me to a T! The story behind these photos: Mum: "Darling, don't lean against the windbreak, you'll fall ov- oh. Too late."]
Hmm, and another thing. I have always been consumed by projects. When I was ten, [and, alas, far more compassionate and environmentally aware than I am now], I set up 'Delphi Club', recruited every other child in my class, and *published* a weekly newsletter [thank you, Dad's office's photocopier!]. I even divided 'members' into houses, like Hogwarts! And galvanised my classmates into sending in letters or solving puzzles to earn house points and sweets!
and you must all join in! Believe me, I'm the failure of the family when it comes to languages [my uncle worked for customs and spoke fifteen fluently] - but few things set the mind working and the heart swelling like mastering how to demand cake in a foreign tongue! You shall never have an excuse for boredom again. And it truly is as simple and cheap as borrowing a CD and a book, like Miss Chuck Charles from beloved Pushing Daisies.
Begin. Keep on beginning. Nibble on everything.
Take a hike. Teach yourself to whistle. Lie.
The older you get the more they’ll want your stories.
Make them up. Talk to stones. Short-out electric
fences. Swim with the sea turtle into the moon. Learn
how to die. Eat moonshine pie. Drink wild geranium
tea. Run naked in the rain. Everything that happens
will happen and none of us will be safe from it.
Pull up anchors. Sit close to the god of night.
Lie still in a stream and breathe water. Climb to the top
of the highest tree until you come to the branch
where the blue heron sleeps. Eat poems for breakfast.
Wear them on your forehead. Lick the mountain’s
bare shoulder. Measure the color of days
around your mother’s death. Put your hands
over your face and listen to what they tell you.
Love, train tickets and adverbs xxx