Aug
23
The Art of Wonder
A Brown University/Rhode Island School of Design Dual-Degree student (BRDD, 2017), artist, writer, scientist, and explorer of the world dedicated to finding Wondrous things. Art, design, science, literature and the connections between them. For my original artwork see http://arianamakesart.tumblr.com/
Posts tagged poem
Jul
31
“WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.” Walt Whitman, lamenting a failure of scientific communication.
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.” Walt Whitman, lamenting a failure of scientific communication.
Jun
28
“And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.” Walt Whitman, “A Noiseless Patient Spider”, Leaves of Grass: “Death-bed” Edition
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.” Walt Whitman, “A Noiseless Patient Spider”, Leaves of Grass: “Death-bed” Edition
Jun
22
I’m reconstructing the night sky.
Do not be afraid when you are
Enveloped by the dark.
It is only me,
Disassembling the constellations
And shrouding the stars in black,
So they can be pulled by threads I’ve unraveled
From fine dark wool and
Made to spell out the time we lost.
May
6
“Only themselves understand themselves and the like of themselves,
As only souls understand souls.” Walt Whitman, “Perfections”, Leaves of Grass
As only souls understand souls.” Walt Whitman, “Perfections”, Leaves of Grass
Apr
26
“There will be time
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.” “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot (via innovatus-et-felicem)
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.” “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot (via innovatus-et-felicem)
Apr
20
You used to bind my heart with baker’s twine,
And write poems on my skin in braille.
You are now an empty chair and
As I write our story in the sand,
There are sea-glass ellipses
Where your name should be.
