“mon cœur est un luth suspendu: sitôt qu’on le touche, il résonne.”

when i was about 15, i read this quote by 19th century french poet pierre-jean de béranger at the beginning of edgar allen poe’s ‘the fall of the house of usher.’ i’ve repeated it, scribbled it down and been inspired by it countless times since. roughly it’s translated as: ‘my heart is a suspended lute: when touched, it resounds.’

the web is a symphony of lutes, resounding in loves and loathes. there’s more than enough loathing, so this is a simple collection of things i love.