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“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand and melting like a snowflake.”
—  Francis Bacon

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André Andersson

The Lady of Shalott (detail) by John William Waterhouse. Tate Britain. 1888.

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Scissors emblazoned with Cavendish arms, English (Sheffield), c.1840 / Victoria & Albert Museum, London, UK / The Bridgeman Art Library.


“And he himself, as he lay there, relieved, with the sweetness of the gentle world you had made for him dissolving beneath his drowsy eyelids, into the foretaste of sleep —: he seemed protected … But inside: who could ward off, who could divert, the floods of origin inside him? Ah, there was no trace of caution in that sleeper; sleeping, yes but dreaming, but flushed with what fevers: how he threw himself in. All at once new, trembling, how he was caught up and entangled in the spreading tendrils of inner event already twined into patterns, into strangling undergrowth, prowling bestial shapes. How he submitted —. Loved. Loved his interior world, his interior wilderness, that primal forest inside him, where among decayed treetrunks his heart stood, light-green. Loved.”

— Excerpt from Rainer Maria Rilke’s “The Third Elegy,” translated by Stephen Mitchell

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