the sea inbetween

and all the other things left unsaid

Pages

Home
Kiki & Mimi Photography

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Autumn Rush

Posted by kiki at 8:31 AM

No comments:

About Me

kiki

View my complete profile

Psalm 77

"I cry out to God without holding back"

A. A. Milne

“"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way."”

Blog Archive

► 2011 (4)
- ► June (1)
- ► April (1)
- ► February (1)
- ► January (1)

► 2010 (14)
- ► December (1)
- ► July (1)
- ► June (2)
- ► May (1)
- ► March (1)
- ► February (8)

▼ 2009 (21)
- ▼ November (1)
  - Autumn Rush
- ► October (1)
- ► August (3)
- ► July (2)
- ► June (2)
- ► April (2)
- ► March (5)
- ► February (2)
- ► January (3)

► 2008 (58)
- ► December (4)
- ► November (3)
- ► October (4)
- ► September (3)
- ► August (2)
- ► July (4)
- ► June (1)
- ► May (11)
- ► April (5)
- ► March (9)
- ► February (6)
- ► January (6)

► 2007 (111)
- ► December (9)
- ► November (4)
- ► October (5)
- ► September (10)
- ► August (6)
- ► July (17)
- ► June (11)
- ► May (11)
- ► April (10)
- ► March (8)
- ► February (9)
- ► January (11)

► 2006 (57)
- ► December (14)
- ► November (10)
- ► October (10)
- ► September (10)
- ► August (13)

matthew 9:28-30

"They went right into the house where he was staying, and Jesus asked them, "Do you believe I can make you see?" "Yes, Lord," they told him, "we do."
Then he touched their eyes and said, "Because of your faith, it will happen." And suddenly they could see!"

baby gulley
baby johnson
bobcat
elucidate
gw house divas
johns journal
kingom present
life happenings
mind over media
more water
mozart mama
orange trees in autumn
ordinary radicals
real world: ecuador
the page...that eternal blankness
the sweetest things in life
this is happily ever after

from Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis

"The complaint was the answer, To have heard myself making it was to be answered. Lightly men talk of saying what they mean. Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek the Fox would say, "Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words." A glib saying. When the times comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?"

Powered by Blogger.