stephanie profile picture

stephanie

belovedust

About Me

My Person:

Oh, how strongly grabs us the secret plot of fate
~Anna Akhmatova

What is beautiful alters, has undertow.
Otherwise I have no tactics to begin with.
Femininity is a sickness. I open my eyes
out of this fever and see the meaning
of my life clearly. A thing like a hill.
I proclaim myself whole and without blessing,
or need to be blessed. A fish of my own
spirit. I belong to no one. I do not move.
Am not required to move. I lie naked on a sheet
and the indifferent sun warms me.
I was bred for slaughter, like the other
animals. To suffer exactly at the center,
where there are no clues except pleasure.
~Linda Gregg

My Interests



The Love of My Life, my son, Jude

poetry, writing, reading, my son, my family, wine, grammar, independent films, foreign films, emotions, storms, cats, words, books, dictionaries, art, photography, philosophy, different cultures, laughing, road trips (as long as I dont have to drive too much), stars, sleeping late on Sunday mornings, blankets, fall, leaves, vegetarian sushi (I miss sushi with you Christine!), naps, candles, the cello (and one day I will be able to play one), red bicycles, wildflowers, getting lost in the library, small crowded bookstores, my beautifully talented and creative friends, beauty, hugs, spirituality, passionate people, intimacy .....and.... I am now trying to learn German and Russian :)

I can be alone
I know how to be alone.

There is a tacit understanding
between my pencils
and the trees outside;
between the rain
and my luminous hair.

The tea is boiling:
my golden zone,
my pure burning amber

I can be alone,
I know how to be alone.
By tea-light
I write.
~Nina Cassian

I'd like to meet:

artists, writers, free thinkers, spiritualists, creators, expressionists: those that practice art in whatever form seeking to depict the subjective emotions and responses that objects and events arouse in the human heart, bringing humanity in touch with the depth of their emotion.

Don't disappear. . . . Give me your palm.
I am written on it--this I believe.
What makes one's last love terrible
is that it is not love, but fear of loss.

~Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Photo by PETAR KÃœRSCHNER PHOTOGRAPHY

Music:


A Constant Ache

Billy Brighton

Bliss Junkie

The Cure, Beth Orton, The Magnetic Fields, Johnny Cash, Frou Frou, Flunk, Olive, Jeff Buckley, Nick Drake, Cranes, Chris Isaak, Siouxie and the Banshees, Cat Power, Katie Melua, Kate Rusby, Fiona Apple, Judy Collins, Imogen Heap, Skye, Liz Phair, Morcheeba, Portishead, Norah Jones, Regina Spektor, David Gray, David Mead, Johnny Lang, Sia, Sara Harmer, Sarah MacLauchlan, Sneaker Pimps, Massive Attack, Aphex Twin, Goldfrapp, The Sundays, Tori Amos, Trentemoeller, Alison Krauss, Julee Cruise, Blonde Redhead, Kidney Thieves, Benny Benassi, Daft Punk, Norah Jones, Radiohead, Mazzy Star, Otis Redding, Ani DiFranco, Damien Rice, Psapp, Martina Bird-Topley, Lucinda Williams, David Bowie, Eartha Kitt, Arcade Fire, Air, Anna Ternheim

Husky Rescue

Feist

Movies:


The Dreamers

Love Song for Bobby Long

Television:

Six Feet Under, Grey's Anatomy, Sex and the City, Dirty Sexy Money

Books:

poet,Tatevik Khurshudyan

it's typical for me
to drink my loneliness, as if a cup of natural juice,
at breakfast time,
and, at the same time,
to think about all "joujou"s
with a fake smile.
~Special Breakfast
poet,April Michelle

I have never loved,
as a woman should love.
I have always been wait-wait-waiting,
never chasing the train,
only an empty pot to his sleek spoon.
~The Departed
poet, Amanda Joy

Such a weight,
these empty arms.
Your anaemic hands
like limp birds.
Women dressed like white moths
flap in and out saying nothing.
The insidious sweetness
of those flowers
near your bed.
~the quiet room
poet,Steffen Horstmann
Your pen dipped in inkwells
Where censored words sought refuge
& the pages of your poems rose from a table
Became a white flock of gulls
You heard a chorus of voices
Reciting the ledger of the disappeared
& ghosts emerged from the glass coffins
Of mirrors
Acquired their former bodies
& the graves that climbed the hills were gone
Replaced by trees
~After Anna Akhmatova
Anais Nin, Flannery O’Connor, Marquis de Sade, Wally Lamb, Milan Kundera, Anton Chekov, Kate Chopin, John Irving, Mary Shelley, Virginia Woolf, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, William Faulkner, Oscar Wilde, D.H. Lawrence, Katherine Mansfield, Violet Leduc, Steinbeck, Dostoevsky
Poetry by: Olga Berggolts, Anna Akhmatova, Natalya Gorbanyevskaya, Nina Cassian, Pablo Neruda, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Bella Akhmadulina, Nichita Stanescu, Marina Tsvetaeva, Yevgeny Yevteshenko, Erich Fried, E.E. Cummings, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Emily Dickinson, Mina Loy, April Michelle, Walt Whitman, William Butler Yeats, Purnima, Forugh Farrohzad, Erica Jong

Heroes:


Anna Akhmatova

June Carter and Johnny Cash

Anais Nin

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Pablo Neruda

My Blog

Madonnina

(inspired by the photography of PETAR KÜRSCHNER)     O ailing Blackbird from continent to continent you soar  those wings, their: flap!flap! seem to never close, though I know how your body...
Posted by stephanie on Sun, 18 Nov 2007 11:37:00 PST

"Sleeping with Anna"

"since I can't have love, and I have no peace, allow me a bitter glory"~Anna Akhmatova   With dark hair she falls empty on the pillow beside me. Shebares me the thin of her body;Tonight, Ann...
Posted by stephanie on Fri, 02 Nov 2007 04:16:00 PST

"Exiting a Room"

Thief, do not sneak, do not sneak,do not sneak up on me -for I welcome you to my cold body.Point me up to you,let my saddened bodyfall clumsy against your body -and we will rise, two loverslifted from...
Posted by stephanie on Sun, 14 Oct 2007 04:56:00 PST

"on Bedroom Sleep"

Moonlight converses with his body; the bed and sleep hold him as he sprawls, loosely wrapped in linen.                &nb...
Posted by stephanie on Sat, 14 Apr 2007 07:13:00 PST