Huddled around the fire of the alphabet...
Carole MasoHow I love them. How good they are. They endure endless hours of me talking about the future. They keep me near and at the same time bid me farewell. That is what real love is.
Carole MasoMots clés family
I believe in books.
Carole MasoMots clés books
You think an essay should have a hypothesis, a conclusion, should argue points. You really do bore me.
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You were a painting by Matisse, but you took sleeping pills.
Carole MasoBut sometimes even the sky is dangerous. I look up and see your face in the stars.
Carole MasoAs if thought were not our most passionate, our most ardent aspect.
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After sex, after coffee, after everything there is to be said --
The hovering and beautiful alphabet as we form our first words after making love.
And somehow I'm still alive.
One loves art more than life; it's better than life, don't you think, Ali? It doesn't disappoint so," she sighed. "It's not so frightening," she said, her eyes filled with terror.
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It's an honor and privilege to be next to the great mysteries, and that's what I get to do every day. Why are we here? How beautiful the Earth is. Whatever it is, large and small. There's so much that's beautiful and moving and sad, to experience that and find shapes for it, to deeply enter that meditative space. There's nothing like it. Everything else seems so pale.
Carole MasoPage 1 de 2.
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