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| Marie Bortolotto |
September 28, 2016
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| Marie Bortolotto 2016 |
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| Marie Bortolotto 2016 “In this mortal frame of mine which is made of a hundred bones and nine orifices there is something, and this something is called a wind-swept spirit for lack of a better name, for it is much like a thin drapery that is torn and swept away at the slightest stir of the wind. This something in me took to writing poetry years ago, merely to amuse itself at first, but finally making it its lifelong business. It must be admitted, however, that there were times when it sank into such dejection that it was almost ready to drop its pursuit, or again times when it was so puffed up with pride that it exulted in vain victories over the others. Indeed, ever since it began to write poetry, it has never found peace with itself, always wavering between doubts of one kind and another. At one time it wanted to gain security by entering the service of a court, and at another it wished to measure the depth of its ignorance by trying to be a scholar, but it was prevented from either because of its unquenchable love of poetry. The fact is, it knows no other art than the art of writing poetry, and therefore, it hangs on to it more or less blindly.” ― Matsuo BashÅ, The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches |
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| Marie Bortolotto 2016 |
September 27, 2016
September 25, 2016
September 23, 2016
July 20, 2016
June 5, 2016
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| Marie Bortolotto 2016 Sunlit afternoon - shadows on the rug beneath my bare feet - Haiku by Marie Bortolotto Our life here on earth: to what shall we compare it? It is not like a rowboat departing at daybreak, leaving no trace of us in its wake? Takaha Shugyo, Haiku Poet, Translated by Michael R. Burch |
May 28, 2016
Photo, Marie Bortolotto
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“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is
in the eyes of others only a green thing that
stands in the way. Some see Nature all ridicule
and deformity, and some scarce see Nature at all.
But to the eyes of the man of imagination,
Nature is Imagination itself.”
- William Blake, 1799, The Letters
Quotes on Imagination by Marie Bortolotto:
"We are all fodder for the dreams of mankind."
"You must feed imagination, otherwise it will feed on you."
"Your ancestors are imagination."
"We humans are (a part of) nature and nature is imagination itself."
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