― Ali Smith, The Whole Story and Other Stories
[text ID: It was a Sunday in September. There would only be four.]
22K notes
·
View notes
635 notes
·
View notes
I got up to get us a drink of water and as I stood in the kitchen in the early morning light, running the water out of the tap, I looked out at the hills at the back of the town, at the trees on the hills, at the bushes in the garden, at the birds, at the brand new leaves on a branch, at a cat on a fence, at the bits of wood that made the fence, and I wondered if everything I saw, if maybe every landscape we casually glanced at, was the outcome of an ecstasy we didn't even know was happening, a love-act moving at a speed slow and steady enough for us to be deceived into thinking it was just everyday reality.
Ali Smith, Girl Meets Boy
163 notes
·
View notes
Ali Smith (American, b. 1976)
Work it Out, 2023
Oil on canvas
189 notes
·
View notes
Ada Limon
James Baldwin
Autumn, Ali Smith
Hamlet, Shakespeare
Residual Hauntings, Psychic Library
Autumn, Ali Smith
The Five Stages of Grief, Linda Pastan
Hauntology: How the Ghosts of our Past haunt our Future, Vincent Freeland
BBC Archive - What is Hauntology
Hauntology
230 notes
·
View notes
June 14th
Some reading and life moments later.
I’ve been to the beach, been swimming in the sea and enjoying my reading. I managed to read Spring while it’s still technically spring (just) and I’m obsessed with Ali Smiths writing.
151 notes
·
View notes
Tonight I can smell the season the way it's usually only possible to at the very first moments of its return, before you're used to it, when you've forgotten its smell, then there it is back in the air and the flow of things shifting and resettling again.
Ali Smith, The Whole Story and Other Stories
352 notes
·
View notes
166 notes
·
View notes
What would happen if you did just shut a door and stop speaking? Hour after hour after hour of no words. Would you speak to yourself? Would words just stop being useful? Would you lose language altogether? Or would words mean more, would they start to mean in every direction, all somersault and assault, like a thuggery of fireworks? Would they proliferate, like untended plantlife? Would the inside of your head overgrow with every word that has ever come into it, every word that has ever silently taken seed or fallen dormant? Would your own silence make other things noisier? Would all the things you’d ever forgotten, all layered there inside you, come bouldering up and avalanche you?
Ali Smith, There But For The
77 notes
·
View notes
Ali Smith (American, b. 1976)
Love Letter, 2023
Oil on canvas
196 notes
·
View notes
From Ali Smith’s There But For The
24 notes
·
View notes
― Ali Smith, Autumn
13 notes
·
View notes
as it’s autumn for me it felt only fitting to pick up this one — ali smith has a way of getting me caught in the web her words like very few other writers do; finished it this morning. many thoughts, many feelings, much inspiration. excited to keep on reading the others as the seasons pass.
20 notes
·
View notes
I had never seen this book before, so when I saw it in Topping & Co in Edinburgh I had to pick it up. The bookseller was excited to tell me that when Smith was signing these she had made a remark about it being quite rare. I think this makes my Smith collection complete
142 notes
·
View notes