Und hoffen, was sie noch übrig ließen, Doch wieder zu finden auf ihren Kissen.
melencolia 1, durer, 1954. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dvm7Hnii-6U&list=PL2FEA1645BA0A5D3B&index=17 tis a real turn toward winter today. the lightest, but real flurries in the pale sunlight. 3pm afternoon is no longer full and round, but pale gold with hint of grey blue. and by midnight, the world is quieter. much more quieter. only the softest whispers of stars, if they havent covered themselves up with clouds. we say hello to the decline to the next apex couple weeks ago, on halloween. grey dove feathers fly into the door steps, with echos of once beating hearts. and one night, leaves fall. they no longer dance with the wind. they break. they shred. tiny pieces. till no more. tis a hard time, autumn. i love the melancholia of autumn. i love the simple reminder, cinis in cinerem, pulvis in pulverem. ashes to ashes, dust to dust. without the dark night velvel blanket, i suppose the glistening lights and gentle shadows of people indoors wont...