Life
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Happy Birthday, Tori Amos! 1963
It’s not my job to understand the impact [my music] has had. That’s for those who track that and document that. I have to stay present with this work. Because that work is done. And it will either live on, and it’s either been part of the conversation or inspired somebody or it hasn’t. I…
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Is joy the chicken or the egg? (A gentle reiteration on the question on a question)
“Life is suffering, and we spend our lives looking for happiness.” This was her expressed view during our conversation. Is it not fair to say that life is pleasure, happiness, joy, and we erroneously spend energy and passion in search of suffering? — Notes on a Clubhouse conversation
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Only Beauty
The pure, the whole, lifeis a constant inspirationinner, intimate desire needwill to createshareand choose depth of beautyonly beauty
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Analogue
manually rotating my coffee grinder requires well over four hundred turns just delighted in eating a salad of avocado, chick peas, celery, red pepper, red onion, with some olive oil and drops of pumpkin seed oil diving deeper in reading this book — paper, ink, printed, hardcover — by Dunn and Sanchez, entitled “Delicious —…
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Unconditional Love is an Illusion
for its opposite, conditional love, does not exist.
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Life
I just took a deep breath of joy
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Simple versus Easy
In a hut / in a castleOn a shore / in the forest / on a hillAlone / with a herd — in the hut / about the hut / in the castle / around a castleTangible and intangible chores in creativity, and logic, and magicTo be, lively, in wisdom, in love, That is simpleNot…
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The Calutron Girls — this day, on 1942
The ‘Calutron Girls’ monitoring a mass spectrometer during the “Manhattan Project”. Gladys Owens, in the foreground, did not know what she was involved with until seeing this picture on a tour fifty years later. On this day of 1942, the ‘Manhattan Project’ commences, with the aim to deliver an atomic bomb
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The Poetic Palate
Are we the only animal that composes, and makes poetry, eats it, and, in the end, after the joy of having eaten it, rejoices in looking at what is left, still seeing poetry?.
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In the most beautiful, most gentle, most moving moments of tears, not those of physical pain, painful memories, sudden loss
in the joy of beautiful, gentle, moving tears, if not the body, what is being touched?
Sila Blume 