[video]
(via journalofanobody)
Field of Red. By Simon Fairless, UK.
a mescalero apache brother came to do the job. housing authority now contracts out for inspections.
he came in, asked about the lodge out back. my 16 foot tipi, we went and stood by my fire pit and stared at the ash, he shared stories about moving to alaska then washington then california and said he wished he knew his culture, said he’s sad when he talks about that.
that was it. he passed my inspection
Sine Mora: A PRAYER FOR RAINBy Lisel MuellerLet it come down: these thicknesses... -
A PRAYER FOR RAIN
By Lisel MuellerLet it come down: these thicknesses of air
have long enough walled love away from love;stillness has hardened until words despairof their high leaps and kisses shut themselvesback into wishing. Crippled lovers lieagainst a weather which…
TheWordBean: The Blind Leading the Blind -
Take my hand. There are two of us in this cave.
The sound you hear is water; you will hear it forever.
The ground you walk on is rock. I have been here before.
People come here to be born, to discover, to kiss,
to dream, and to dig and to kill. Watch for the mud.
Summer blows in with scent of…
(via wordbean-deactivated20130407)
“You shall not twist my bones
into a star’s shape, nor plant my hair
as roots for the dreams of the living;
and if you open my heart
and run your poet’s fingers
over its walls and cushions
you will find it is like yours,
dark.”
from “Noli Me Tangere”
“
When I hear them call
in the morning, before
I am quite awake,
my bed is already traveling
the daily rainbow,
the arc toward evening;
and the birds, leading
their own discreet lives
of hunger and watchfulness,
are with me all the way,
always a little ahead of me
in the long-practiced manner
of unobtrusive guides.
By the time I arrive at evening,
they have just settled down to rest;
already invisible, they are turning
into the dreamwork of trees;
and all of us together —
myself and the purple finches,
the rusty blackbirds,
the ruby cardinals,
and the white-throated sparrows
with their liquid voices —
ride the dark curve of the earth
toward daylight, which they announce
from their high lookouts
before dawn has quite broken for me.
Multnomah Falls in Oregon
(via kiyo)
(via reneelouiseanderson)
Glen Hansard, “Falling Slowly”
(via eclecticthreads)
“On this day of women we must not forget our heroes… Toypurina (1760-1799) was a Tongva/Gabrieliño Native American medicine woman who opposed the rule of colonization by Spanish missionaries in California, and led an unsuccessful rebellion against them.
Born in 1760, Toypurina was 9 years old when the Spanish settlers first invaded what is now the Los Angeles Basin of Las Californias. She was 11 when Mission San Gabriel Arcángel was begun. She was 21 when Governor Governor Felipe de Neve founded the Pueblo of Los Angeles in 1781 Alta California. In time, Toypurina rose to be a powerful spiritual leader, respected for her bravery and wisdom. She was considered a great communicator, speaking with and trading with the dozens of villages in the many Tongvan dialects and other indigenous languages of California used from Santa Catalina Island through the eastern foothills of the San Bernardino Mountains to the northwestern San Fernando Valley.”via Gray Wolf
Z. Z. Wei
“Don’t plant your bad days. They grow into weeks. The weeks grow into months. Before you know it, you got yourself a bad year. Take it from me - choke those little bad days. Choke ‘em down to nothing.” — Tom Waits (via thepinesaredancing)
(Source: victoriouscorvid, via workman)
