Intrepid Dreamer

http://quixote.tumblr.com/

Yohoho


“Because it’s a long way home back to the place where we started.”

I am a bird now

Because it’s a long way home back to the place where we started.

Perhaps where it begins and ends should be as a meal

Perhaps the world is simply a meal punctuated by other events

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

Joy Harjo, Perhaps the World Ends Here

Perhaps Poetry is as much the soul’s nourishment as Experience


St. Cecilia, Patron St. of Musicians

st. cecilia, patron saint of musicians

File:St cecilia guido reni.jpg – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

She sang to God as she was dying, and there was certainly plenty of singing during the mass.

Curiously, X and I didn’t know it at the time, but having decided on the “return to our roots” approach to spirituality this weekend, we chose the St Cecilia’s Church not knowing it would be that saint’s feast day the very next day. It was more in celebration of “Christ the King” this being the last day of the year in the Catholic Liturgical calendar that drew us to the Roman Church in the first place.

There was a fair measure of spirituality involved, but the priest’s manner reminded me a bit too much of Felix Unger to not pass notice — he was overly fastidious about cleaning his Eucharistic paraphernalia after Communion.


Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=179782

    The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

    The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

    We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

    It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

    At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

    Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

    This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.

    Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.

    We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.

    At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.

    Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite

    — Joy Harjo


Eternity of the moment

1x.com – Photo: Eternity of the moment by Jure Kravanja.

thank you and good night


Photo of Young Men Swimming and Some Sand

It’s always nice to get into the water after the sand.

If you want to see lots of sand

(award winning sand at that)


Symbolic Travel via Animated GIF

We're going on a road trip today. Sort of like easy rider except in a red jeep and we shall avoid getting stoned in New Orleans (where we are not going to...)

 

thank you Serina for the grumpy bird