“The woods appeared to draw him by some spell.”
“No wild beast, but his own desire, had conquered him.”
Promoting my daughter’s little beginner business: New Age Retrograde—Jewelry featuring unique vintage & antique book illustrations.
Many of these are sold already but you can track down her wares at New Age Retrograde on both IG & FB.
Go check out her stuff. If you like something claim it quick.
Custom orders taken & she will hunt for the images you’re looking for. For added “charm” each piece also has a well thought out embellishment hand made in house to compliment each image.
Every image is hand cut from a vintage or antique book.
Sarah is still off work from her surgery so now that the school year is done this seems to be what she’s focusing on. She’s collecting older antique & vintage dictionaries & turning the images into pendants and adding her own homemade embellishments. I think they look really good. Hoping to build an inventory for Etsy or to rent a table at a local Farmer’s Market.
Entrepreneurials, that’s what I’m calling the post Millenials. They have been raised by genX & yet have the internet at the fingertips to gain skills & to market themselves & their skills. Love it.
7. The day becomes more solemn and serene
When noon is past: there is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard nor seen.
As if it could not be, as if it had not been.
Thus let thy power, which like the truth
Of Nature on my passive youth
Descended, to my onward life supply
Its calm,—to one who worships thee,
And every form containing thee,
Whom, Spirit fair, the spells did bind
To fear himself, and love all humankind.
(verse 7 of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Hymn to Intellectual Beauty)
With some angled eye, tipping.
But see, this exquisite loveliness;
Our spring was a turmoil and summer
A hard sweat heap of exhaustion & strange open torn agonies—
And then comes the Autumn.
We lie down, where once we ran,
And the sky opens up above us.
I will stay here, breathing in, ever so quietly, waiting—
Watching these winds, watching the young
As they run
Waiting—for that is what autumn is
The realization of inevitabilites & a soft, shaky breath in, loving all
This tranquil fired beauty
Before you go.