Monday, November 26, 2012


I have reopened my small blog after two years. I have missed posting photos, something I did at my last blog, synch-ro-ni-zing. It seems important to keep this washed stones space for words, and that space for one photo a day of something small. All these things are just fingers pointing at the moon anyway.

Sorry I'm feeling quiet about responding to comments at the moment. But my heart is full of you.


  1. It's just lovely to see your posts once again...

  2. A good idea, Ruth. I really enjoy these photos of the simple things that grab our attention and stir our imaginations throughout the day.

  3. What's the name and link to the other blog? I like the image of fingers pointing at the moon. What else can we do. Respond as your able and not to worry as my heart is full of you as well.

    1. Sorry it wasn't apparent, Mary. It's linked in the word "small" in the first sentence, which is also the name of the blog. :)

  4. you can't begin to imagine just how well i understand

    and to the next point, i understand as well))) (the no comments too:)))

    at this exact moment peter's santa claus is just about enough to do me in. i have just finished reading milan kundera's Identity and while the story left me frustrated, the multi-layered and confused (rife with anxiety) philosophy left me closer to something akin to both understanding, and simultaneously, not understanding:) this, and my children are once again away.

    a couple things about nostalgia (which is so much more than nostalgia but instead the brackets between: to have and to lose, to live and to die):

    "How could she feel nostalgia when he was right in front of her? How can you suffer from the absence of a person who is present?

    ...You can suffer nostalgia in the presence of the beloved if you glimpse a future where the beloved is no more; if the beloved's death is, invisibly, already present.”


    "… your heels tapping on the sidewalk make me think of the roads I never traveled, that stretch away like the boughs of a tree. You have reawakened the obsession of my early youth: I would imagine life before me like a tree. I used to call it the tree of possibilities. We see life that way for only a brief time. Thereafter, it comes to look like a track laid out once and for all, a tunnel one can never get out of. Still, the old specter of the tree stays with us in the form of an ineradicable nostalgia. You have made me remember that tree, and in return, I want to pass you its image, have you hear its enthralling murmur.”


  5. I went to look at your photograph – I liked it a lot – the simplicity of it and its beauty. I can understand that you would wish to place a photo sometime – I know I could not write my posts without my pictures. I am not a writer like you. I start with my pictures and a blank page then I look at a picture and write a paragraph, then another picture and another paragraph and so on – the pictures are the way for me, the images the colors the life in them.

  6. I LOVE that Small is reopened and that I see you on FB. It brings a smile every day!

  7. :) I love this and I am quite intrigued with Lisel Mueller. I might be adding ANOTHER book(s) to my library ;P


All responses are welcome.