I hang my harp upon a tree,
A weeping willow in a lake;
(…)
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;
My silent heart, lie still and break:
Christina Rossetti, from Mirage in “The Complete Poems Of Christina Rossetti”
thinking about all the “small” art that’s ever existed. songs that were only ever sung in one village. stories written by children that got lost in the shuffle. personal paintings that didn’t survive the test of time. how they affected the lives of just a few, but still existed, still mattered to someone.
Susan J. Erickson, from “Marilyn Monroe Imagines Her Life as Menu Items at Schrafft's”
