Unknown photographer, Stranded boat, Xieshan, China (via)
Every path leading to a spiritual realization demands from whoever undertakes it the stripping of the habitual ‘I’ in order to become truly oneself, a transformation that is accompanied by the sacrifice of apparent riches and vain pretensions; that is to say, by the sacrifice of humiliation, of the struggle against the passions of which the old ‘I’ is made.Titus Burckhardt, quoted in Alberto Manguel’s The Traveler, the Tower, and the Worm
Authenticity comes from a single faithfulness: that to the ambiguity of experience.John Berger
Peter de Lory, Once upon a Time in the West, 1997 (via wonderfulambiguity)
Elger Esser, La Grande Be, Frankreich, 2009 (via mythologyofblue)
Claudia Drake, ‘Moira’, 2007 (via urgentalchemy)
This morning I woke up to terror such as I have never experienced before: I was entirely stripped of feeling. Everything was gone; it was as if I had lost something that had been entrusted to me the previous evening, something I was supposed to take special care of overnight. I was in the position of someone who has been assigned to guard an entire sleeping army but suddenly finds himself mysteriously blinded, deaf, and effaced. Everything was gone. I was completely empty, without pain, without pleasure, without longing, without love, without warmth and friendship, without anger, without hate. Nothing, nothing was there anymore, leaving me like a suit of armor with no knight inside. It took a long time before I even felt alarmed.Werner Herzog, Conquest of the Useless (via invisiblestories)
The fourth issue of Bright Wall/Dark Room, featuring writing on road trip movies, is out now. I wrote about The Muppet Movie as filtered through Robert Bresson’s Notes on the Cinematographer because why not?
[Note: Kermit as auteur illustration by Brianna Ashby.]
Death as the destruction of all things no longer had meaning when life was revealed to be a fatuous sequence of empty words, the hollow jingle of a jester’s cap and bells.Michel Foucault, from History of Madness (tr. J. Murphy and J. Khalfa) (via)
… no man can hope to be completely free who lingers within reach of familiar habits and urgencies.Richard Byrd, Alone
I wrote an essay about—or, rather, around—San Francisco for Numero Cinq’s wonderful What It’s Like Living Here series.