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sanctorium.bsky.social
@sanctorium.bsky.social
photography, writing

header: Alice Oswald, Falling Awake
There is only one day left, always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.

Jean-Paul Sartre
December 8, 2025 at 5:23 PM
We know that our language is incapable of recalling even the pale reflection of those strange and perished states.

Jean Genet
December 8, 2025 at 4:11 PM
I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short times of space. Five, six: the nacheinander. Exactly: and that is the ineluctable modality of the audible.

James Joyce, Ulysses
December 8, 2025 at 10:51 AM
Emily Dickinson
December 8, 2025 at 9:05 AM
Frans Masereel. Landschaften Und Stimmungen, 1929
December 7, 2025 at 8:14 PM
have a wondrous night
December 7, 2025 at 6:26 PM
Sunday with Barthes and coffee
December 7, 2025 at 11:22 AM
Ah is a breath

Gerhard Richter, Wolke (1971)
December 7, 2025 at 8:21 AM
Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now.

Sylvia Plath

good night
December 6, 2025 at 8:37 PM
Anne Carson, Plainwater
December 6, 2025 at 10:02 AM
Moon. Air. Sunrise.
All that light on your face in the morning.
Wakes you up.

Anne Carson, The Glass Essay

Odilon Redon
December 6, 2025 at 9:42 AM
We exist with a wind whispering inside and our moon flexing. Amid the ducts, inside the basilica of bones.

Jack Gilbert

Degas, 1877
December 5, 2025 at 5:19 PM
Snake and Moon
Morris Graves, 1938
December 5, 2025 at 2:20 PM
Wallace Stevens, Harmonium
December 5, 2025 at 9:41 AM
Wallace Stevens, Harmonium
December 5, 2025 at 9:40 AM
Bird Singing in the Moonlight
Morris Graves, 1939
December 4, 2025 at 9:04 PM
Light
Light
The visible reminder of Invisible Light.

T. S. Eliot, Choruses from The Rock (1934)
December 4, 2025 at 5:41 PM
Seascape (Cloudy)
Gerhard Richter, 1969
December 4, 2025 at 9:10 AM
Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis; tr. Michael Hoffman
December 4, 2025 at 9:02 AM
E. M. Cioran, The Trouble with Being Born; tr. Richard Howard
December 4, 2025 at 8:38 AM
day night evanish
December 3, 2025 at 7:35 PM
I never sleep days before a full moon. I wander the night air.

Ph. Francesca Woodman
December 3, 2025 at 4:30 PM
the bards

Six Birds. William Kentridge, 2014
December 3, 2025 at 1:01 PM
Chessmaster (taken)
Harold Hollingsworth, 1992
December 3, 2025 at 10:26 AM
interior wander, with coffee
December 3, 2025 at 9:18 AM