My posts are personal reflections on being mindful, inspired and curious.
“In the very end, civilizations perish because they listen to their politicians and not their poets.” Jonas Mekas – It is hard to think about the political, humanitarian, and environmental challenges facing us and our planet and not hover somewhere between optimism and despair. But there has never been a time in history that has
Gascony is never more beautiful than in October. The grapes have been harvested. Corn and sunflower stubble fill vast fields, and winter wheat has been planted in deep-brown ochre soil, ted to perfection like enormous Zen gardens that stretch to the horizon. Life in the Gers is simple, profound and real, linked to the seasons
“Rituals are the formula by which harmony is restored.” Terry Tempest Williams – As a sea of autumn clouds began to slowly gather over the Pyrenees and roll down to the valley below, I took my ritual visit to a new village, a weekend drive to St. Seve. The village crowns a hill overlooking the
“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.” Camille Pissarro – Perry Taylor’s drawings are a fusion of the droll cartoons of Sempé and the burlesque films of Jacques Tati. His humor ranges from wry amusement to riotous laughter. Perry has the uncanny ability to capture the whimsical
‘“Surely the day will come when color means nothing more than the skin tone, when religion is seen uniquely as a way to speak one’s soul; when birth places have the weight of a throw of the dice and all men are born free, when understanding breeds love and brotherhood.” Josephine Baker I have always
“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?” Vincent Van Gogh Today is Mother’s Day in France, and I’ve been thinking about my mother. She was less than loving, but fortunately, my grandmother loved me with abandon. It was she who gave me the courage to attempt anything, from leaving home
“Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason, you sing. For no reason, you accept the way of being lost, cutting loose from all else and electing a world where you go where you want to. Arbitrary, a sound comes, a reminder that a steady center is holding all else. If you listen, that sound will tell
How swiftly the strained honey of afternoon light flows into darkness. And the closed bud shrugs off its special mystery in order to break into blossom: as if what exists, exists so that it can be lost and become precious.
I choose to close the door today on hate, and violence. On deliberate “misunderstandings”, and on a closed mind. These things tempt me at times to retreat Into an enclosed fortress where I am right and others are excluded. So I close one door in order to open another…Yet I wonder…Do I have the right
