Thursday, September 22, 2005

to the lighthouse...

And that was what now she often felt to the need of - to think; well, not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself... When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless.
- virginia woolf -
to the lighthouse


thestraightpoop said...


And speaking of beautiful, your photo to the right is absolutely stunning. You're a knock-out, babe.

angela said...

oh hon. you're sweet.

but remember, that piccie goes back a couple of years. still me, but you know the battle. ahem.