Have I told you lately that I love you?
In Yiddish there’s a word for it: bashert. The meaning is something like “intended”: the person who was meant for you. We’re not talking about a soul mate, though modern usage often spins it that way; the original meaning is more complicated. Your basherter won’t always make you happy, and your life together won’t always be easy. But there’s a sense of rightness, of having landed where you’re supposed to be.
— Julie Orringer
These pictures, from 1965 onward, in some way reflect a thought game [which] began with a though about how I would love to see more of the world. I would love to travel deeply and widely. And what is the deepest and widest you can travel? It’s to come back to where you already are. And I saw my own circumnavigation of the Earth in my mind’s eye, and I realized in that moment that nothing would be more dear to me than where I already was.
— The incomparable photographer Emmet Gowin about the wisdom of staying close to home and family.
Love comes in the door in many ways.
We are not our thoughts. We are the awareness of our thoughts, disguised as people.
As the years go by, one senses that mortality itself is her underlying subject and that all her books are books of remembering.
I am always looking for the poetic moments in office life. I never cease to be surprised by how light can transform the most ordinary objects into something special.
— Kathy Ryan
suspending self-judgment doesn’t just mean blowing off the “you suck” voice in our heads. it also means liberating ourselves from conventional expectations - from what we think our work “ought” to be or “should” look like. stay stupid. follow your unconventional, crazy heart.