leaves wings and other such things

love

when you are real

 

“Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you,
then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit. 

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’ 

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’ 

velveteen rabbit face

 

‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, & your eyes drop out & you get loose in the joints & very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” 
  —Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

velveteen rabbit & skin horsespacer

Posted on by stanislawa in a hand-drawn line, toes&nose

fur & feathers

animals bring sincerity to our lives.
we learn from them & learn about ourselves with them.

we can imagine our best selves through them.
that connection is a gift—it is honest.

 

“Animals are reliable, many full of love, true in their affections, predictable in their actions,
  grateful & loyal. Difficult standards for people to live up to.”
   —Alfred A. Montapert

winged woman with a precious dog

 
“Dogs are my favorite people.”
   —Richard Dean Anderson

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

fledgling

instinct & practice, nurturing & guidance, dependance & trust.

a bald eagle chick practices flapping its wings in the nest atop a tall pine. next it tries beating its wings into the wind & taking short hops above the nest. one day, a big gust of wind catches the bird’s open wings & whisks it away. the parents follow the young eagle on its first flight.
—minnesota department of natural resources

the little flegling near his mother's side

 

what is this connection between the fledgling & its mother?

—i miss mine.

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

together you and me

Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it’s only right
To think about the girl you love
And hold her tight, so happy together

bird masked figure and goat from together illustration

If I should call you up, invest a dime
And you say you belong to me and ease my mind
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine
So happy together

 

I can’t see me loving nobody
But you for all my life
When you’re with me, baby
The skies will be blue for all my life

Me and you and you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you and you for me
So happy together

bird woman & companion goat move into the beauty of wind blown flowers

I can’t see me loving nobody
But you for all my life
When you’re with me, baby
The skies will be blue for all my life

Me and you and you and me
No matter how they tossed the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you and you for me
So happy together
How is the weather
So happy together
We’re happy together
So happy together

—songwriters alan gordon and garry bonner—©trio music company—performed by the turtles

 

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

falling in love

stanislawakodman_treeBoy_toGirlstanislawakodman_flowerGirl_toBoystanislawakodman_treeBoy_flowerGirl_toBoy

  I have been in love more times than one,
  thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
  whether active or not. Sometimes
  it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
  an afternoon, but not less real for that.
  They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
  or anyway beautiful people to me, of which
  there are so many. You, and you, and you,
  whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
  missed. Love, love, love, it was the
  core of my life, from which, of course, comes
  the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
  that some of them were men and some were women
  and some—now carry my revelation with you—
  were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
  the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
  which was the first, and the best, the most
  loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
  my eyes, every morning. So I imagine
  such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its
  innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine
  this is how it began.
                               —Mary Oliver

boy meets girl

 

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose