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a kind of flowers language ..

words glorious words.

delicious words.

my memory wanes and with it my ability to pull the right word at the right time. i blame it on hours on end with toddlers and their language and simple songs, so good for them, not so much for me. knowing the word i want, but not being able to pull it from that part of my brain that used to be sharp is so very frustrating. i envy writers, i wish i could string words together like some. i love the sounds of certain words. serendipity for example, and felicity, fervor. what words do you love?


explore #73

Oops! I deleted the first upload of the image by mistake. Here we go again.

"Language forces us to perceive the world as man presents it to us…"

~ Julia Penelope


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In the language of flowers the meaning of carnation (garofano) varies according to the same color: yellow = outrage, red = impetuous and passionate love, white=fidelity.

Architect: Holst, Bud Clark Commons, Portland Oregon



"I am snared in the language trap

between strong emotion and a lazy tongue

I awaken, toss and turn and fall asleep

besieged by the body, a slip of the tongue.


Now I say: sea. And can’t contain it.

I say: sky. Is that where His army and all His soldiers are?

Oh no no no. I meant something else.

But I repeat the words. As I do now. Here:


I am snared in the language trap

between strong emotion and a lazy tongue

again I awaken, toss and turn and fall asleep

besieged by the body, the silliness of the tongue.


But asleep and awake I’ll knock on your door

until you open it. Open up, open up.

You’ll hear the wordless

tap tap tap,

I’m here and won’t leave until you open

and greet me and my lips part.


And even if my face were stone

and my eyes a rising river

as in the Valley of Giants or the Valley of Tears;

if my voice were a high groan

contriving to crack,

the day will come, and with it wellbeing.

Because this is between you and me:


There is speech made of silence.

An obstacle may be a path.

There is hunger that can’t be sated,

desire that can’t be starved.

There are disagreements (after agreements are signed).

A hunger in the heart, ticking, that doesn’t give up.

Clouds that make their way

to a stormy winter. There is spring, a cure.

There is a watchman on my path among the passersby,

a lit pathway from the shoreline to the stars.


Here I said: sea. Skies and soldiers.

I can contain them.

Because I desire you and many suns,

and many waters

cannot quench this.

Let me be a seal upon your heart."


© 2013, Shachar Mario Mordechai

From: Mi be-inyan shelanu

Publisher: Am Oved, Tel Aviv, 2013


© Translation: 2014, Lisa Katz

First published on Poetry International, 2014


The eyes are undoubtedly the most sensitive & delicate organs we possess, & perhaps the most amazing. They present us with the window through which we view the world, & are responsible for four fifths of all the information our brain receives – which is probably why we rely on our eyesight more than any other sense.

☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆ -- -- -- ☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆*´¨`*☆.¸¸.☆

"The symbolic view of things is a consequence of long absorption in images.

Is sign language the real language of Paradise?"


-Hugo Ball


textures by Florabella, thanks!


back from a short vacation in Maui...

missed you all, happy bokeh wednesday-

i'm off to catch up with your wonderful photostreams!

© All rights reserved to RaYan Al ShReeFريـان الشريف


can D450


Lens : EF 75-300mm f/4-5.6 USM


Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay.

Like music and art, love of nature is a common language that can transcend political or social boundaries. — Jimmy Carter


Camera: Canon EOS Rebel XS

Lens: Canon EF 100mm f/2.8 Macro

Editing: Photoshop CS4

Flypaper Textures used

Made up of my own photographs, magazine images and an old record sleeve.

Miranda Sensorex + Revolog 600 nm

The perverse possibilities of the Barbican. You could be invisible here. You can get a notion of floating across the city.

Detail of Language piece. Polymer and reclaimed wood.

try it this way


Once I spoke the language of the flowers,

Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,

Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,

And shared a conversation with the housefly

in my bed.

Once I heard and answered all the questions

of the crickets,

And joined the crying of each falling dying

flake of snow,

Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .

How did it go?

How did it go?


Shel Silverstein



"Language says: Before Language

there stands a language. Language is tainted traces

from over there.

Language says: Listen, now.

You listen: There has been

an echo.


Take silence and try to be silent.

Take words and try to speak.

Beyond language, Language is a wound

from which the world flows and flows.

Language says: Is, Is not, Is,

Is not. Language says: I.

Language says: Let’s speak you,

let’s feel you, come say

you have said."


:copyright: 1991, Amir Or

From: Panim

Publisher: Am Oved, 1991


:copyright: Translation: 1997, Irit Sela

is not understandable, because we call us normal


Dhaka | 2014

Taken By - Me

Edited By - Me

This girl and lady were very enthuiastically discussing something, which caught my attention.


The communication was all using sign language, which is something we don't see every day (at least I don't).


I managed to capture a series of shots but this is the only one where you can see a little of both faces.

"I speak two languages, Body and English."--Mae West


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♥ Full Credits Here ♥

International mother language day

Mischievous nymphs were said to hide in the petals of the Peony, giving it the meaning of Bashfulness in the Language of Flowers...

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