Andrea Balt Archives | Page 2 of 2

My Life Had Stood, a Loaded Gun: Emily Dickinson.

On one hand, she embodies the two ingredients that account for a writer’s freakability levels: the forsaken art of solitude, which she took to new, deadly levels, and her passionate romance with language. Combine this with the mysterious, poetic elegance watching you behind closed doors. Doors ...

poetry

I Love You in Secret, Between the Shadow and the Soul: Pablo Neruda.

All art is escapism in the noblest sense. First you get out of prison with your mind, and maybe soon, your body follows. ‘Cause why would you even consider staying behind bars? No one is safe.

happiness

How to Recycle a Compostable Heart.

Just like you, your pain is organic, compostable. It never vanishes because nothing in nature just disappears. The natural mechanism of life is change.

poetry

After a While, You Learn: Jorge Luis Borges.

I like him because he used his art as an inescapable way into the tunnels of the heart, where -- with closed eyes but open mouth -- he bravely captured his own darkness, and then brought it out into the ephemeral, mundane light for the world to touch: Here, here, don’t be afraid, it’s only flesh.

Andrea Balt

My Life Had Stood, a Loaded Gun: Emily Dickinson.

I Love You in Secret, Between the Shadow and the Soul: Pablo Neruda.

How to Recycle a Compostable Heart.

After a While, You Learn: Jorge Luis Borges.

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