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Sleeping At Last - "Saturn" (Official Music Video) "You taught me the courage of stars before you left How light carries on endlessly, even after death With shortness of breath You explained the infinite And how rare and beautiful it is to even exist I couldn't help but ask for you to say it all again I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time That the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes ..."
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Hello everyone,
I have decided to stop posting here and on my main blog @tanyushenka​ The reasons are strictly personal. My era on tumblr ... is over.  I will not deactivate my accounts: too many valuable posts I have made here over the years on both accounts, especially, on @tanyushenka  I do not want to just vanish. Too much hard and devoting work, researches and time I spent to just waste it and throw away into nothing. I am sure, many people have and still will get enriched intellectually, from the materials I shared.  Enjoy my old text posts, other people’s photographs I shared with you and the ocean views I personally took. Perhaps, I will come back here, -- perhaps, -- but not in the nearest future, for sure.  I thank all of my 20K + followers. I wish you all -- the great health. 
@finita--la--commedia
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Kalanchoe on my desk.
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My total forgetfulness and my absolute failure to recognize you today are but your absolute presence and my total absorption of yesterday. As much as you were — as much you are no longer. The absolute presence in reverse. Such a presence cannot but become such an absence. Everything yesterday, nothing today.
Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941), from a letter to Abram Vishnyak (1895-1943), in a Postface to “Nine Letters with a Tenth Kept Back and an Eleventh Received” (published letters  to Abram Vishnyak) “Мое полное забвение и мое абсолютное неузнавание сегодня — лишь тождественность твоего абсолютного присутствия и моей полной поглощенности вчера. Насколько ты был — настолько тебя нет. Абсолютное присутствие с обратной стороны. Абсолютное может быть только абсолютным. Такое присутствие может стать только таким отсутствием. Вчера — всё, сегодня — ничего.” (via finita--la--commedia)
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My forgetting you is nothing but another title of nobility. A certificate of your past value.
Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941), from a letter to Abram Vishnyak (1895-1943), in “Nine Letters with a Tenth Kept Back and an Eleventh Received” “Моё забвение Вас — еще один патент на благородство. Удостоверение Вашего достоинства в прошлом.” (via finita--la--commedia)
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What is it to forget a human being ? - It is to forget what one suffered through him …
Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941), from a letter to Abram Vishnyak (1895-1943), in “Nine Letters with a Tenth Kept Back and an Eleventh Received”          “Что такое забыть кого-то ? Это забыть причиненные им страдания.” (via finita--la--commedia)
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Look what I've got ! A baby tulip on my desk !
@finita--la--commedia
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Maya Plisetskaya (1925-2015) The dying swan, 1959 Music by Camille Saint-Saëns. Choreography by Mikhail Fokine, 1907.
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I have nothing to do close to you. I did not love you enough and you did not love me enough for me to settle my final accounts with you. I  must manage alone and die alone. I waited for years for you to forgive my faults and accept me as I was. You never did. I therefore kept my faults, I remained guilty, and today I must put myself in order with these faults alone. Leave me. Forgive me, then, the pain that I have caused you. And if you can, forgive me from the bottom of your heart. That is what I need most, though, the privation that for years has prevented me from living. If your heart remembers nothing but the love it has for me, this would be the salvation in death that I could not have in life.
Albert Camus (1913-1960), from “Notebooks 1951-1959″, translated from the French by Ryan Bloom
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“ La Jetée “ (”The Pier”, 1962) directed by Chris Marker
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All such a mix-up—What a madness—hysteria—I hardly slept a wink last night—such ghastly things are happening all around me.
Alfred Stieglitz (1864-1946), in a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe (1887-1986)   [New York City] • [November 2, 1917]  in: ”My Faraway One. Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz. Volume 1, 1915–1933″
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Delight in losing oneself in the foreseen image. I rose from my corpse, went in search of who I am. My own pilgrim, I have walked towards she who sleeps in a country in the wind.
Alejandra Pizarnik (1936 -1972), from “ The Roads of the Mirror ” (1962) in: “Alejandra Pizarnik. Selected Poems”, translated by Cecilia Rossi
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@Charlotte Grimm
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Strength is something you enjoy as you lose it.
Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880), from “Intimate  Notebook 1840-1841″, translated from the French by Francis Steegmuller
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I thought your soul was greater and more worthy of mine, for I have loved you with all the love there is in my heart. You’re killing what life I still have, you blow everything away with one puff as though it were a mere spider’s web. I have nothing left in the world, nothing left in life. You love me, and yet you are killing me. You destroy my happiness and your own. I was beginning to amass in my heart so much love and happiness. You are crazy and I am crazier still. But don’t you know that I belong to you body and soul? Like a woman who has made a pact. If my happiness alone depended on your love, I would run away from you, for one can do without happiness—and, besides, in this area I haven’t developed any bad habits—but your love is necessary to me for life itself. I love you with all my strength, away from you I die.
Juliette Drouet (1806-1883) in a letter to Victor Hugo (1802-1885), dated 1833, in: “ My beloved Toto: letters from Juliette Drouet to Victor Hugo, 1833–1882″,  translated  from the French by Victoria Tietze Larson
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@pauliosovari
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A telegram from you Dearest, best part of what I am... This morning after I had sent you a twenty-six-page [letter] registered—I came back & broke down again—There was so much more to say in the letter & I realized I hadn’t said it—that I felt no matter what I wrote I couldn’t make you feel what really was eating me up—killing me—Not your being away but that terrible lack of togetherness when you left—& I know that without that I am lost—...
Alfred Stieglitz (1864-1946), in a letter to Georgia O’Keeffe (1887-1986), • [Lake George, New York] • July 6, 1929, in ”My Faraway One. Selected Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz. Volume 1, 1915–1933″
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