Thursday, March 22, 2012

Anaïs Nin on your face

I don't have much to say today, but if I did, I'd say it by wrapping the words of Anaïs Nin on my face so everyone I saw would see them. And even if they didn't read them they might catch a fleeting moment of what she was getting at. To boast her beautiful words across my forehead and nose would be beyond an honor, for she speaks a language that runs in my veins and inspires the very day to day in which I live.

To demonstrate a handful of her words for which I wish would crawl far more under my skin but right seeping into the blood:

"I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls." 


"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."


"Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman's womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to be. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her." 

And, that's really all I have to say right now and they're really somebody else's words.

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