“As I tore myself from you I heard a weeping sound You thread a needle to darn the hole I left and embroider a new plan” PoetryHeartacheWeepingVerseNeedle And ThreadEmbroider Book:The Soul in Words: A collection of Poetry & Verse Source: The Soul in Words: A collection of Poetry & Verse
“I make landscapes out of what I feel. I make holidays of my sensations. I can easily understand women who embroider out of sorrow or who crochet because life exists. My elderly aunt would play solitaire throughout the endless evening. These confessions of what I feel are my solitaire. I don't interpret them like those who read cards to tell the future. I don't probe them, because in solitaire the cards don't have any special significance. I unwind myself like a multicoloured skein, or I make string figures of myself, like those woven on spread fingers and passed from child to child. I only take care that my thumb not miss its loop. Then I turn over my hand and the figure changes. And I start over.” SensationsStart OverCrochetSolitaireEmbroider Book:The Book of Disquiet Source: The Book of Disquiet
“As we go through the flightiness of time, dazed by the inebriety of our mental time voyage, we must hit the brakes, sometimes, and not shy away from questioning ourselves, when we wade through the tanning mist of our memory that embroiders our thoughts or distorts them. ("Uber alle Gipfeln ist Ruh" )” TimeMemoryMentalDazedEmbroiderFlightinessHit The BrakesInebrietyShy AwayWade Into Author:Erik Pevernagie