Bagobo bag

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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Cosmic Funnies
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Bagobo bag
Philippine Tribals
The first day of a new moon, they worship it and ask favors of it. Some ask it to provide them with a lot of gold; others for a lot of rice; others that it give them a beautiful wife or a noble husband who is well-mannered and rich; others that it bestow on them health and long life; in short, everyone asks for what they most desire.
The Tagalogs, The Boxer Codex Manuscript 1590. English translation from The Boxer Codex: Transcription and Translation of an Illustrated Late Sixteenth-Century Spanish Manuscript Concerning the Geography, History and Ethnography of the Pacific, South-east and East Asia by George Bryan Souza, University of Texas, San Antonio, and Jeffrey S. Turley, Brigham Young University
*Note: The new moon mentioned here is not the new moon we know today. When the new moon is mentioned in old texts it means the first sliver of the moon that can be seen after the dark moon, which is today referred to as the new moon.
(via diwatahan)
“The Archer”, Max Nonnenbruch,
Those who experience, not the arts, but nature, may have a similar response, and also those who experience another human being. Do we not know the feeling that overtakes us when we are in the presence of a particular person and, roughly translates as, The fact that this person exists in the world at all, this alone makes this world, and a life in it, meaningful.
Viktor Frankl
For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.
James Baldwin, Nothing Personal.
Evelyn De Morgan Night and Sleep 1878
Henri Cartier-Bresson. Greece. 1961
Henri Cartier-Bresson. Salamanca, Spain. 1963
La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Frank Cadogan Cowper (1926)
André Heller Flic Flac 1981
starting a new religion
the multi-headed messiah
Abandonne-toi vive aux serpents, Ghislaine de Menten de Horne (1908-1995)
Causeway
The path you were on
rolled up its tongue
like a faded red carpet
and swallowed itself.
You opened your mouth
to speak of it and your
voice fell out as silence,
like a baby bird from its
nest.
You felt hope pass away
inside you, but couldn’t find
the corpse.
Maybe the rumors are true:
how beyond the hope no
longer there, another will hope
for you, or how a demon
is just an angel that hasn’t
been hugged yet.
Though you always knew
grief was a window beneath
your skin and it would shatter
open, the world rushing into you
like an intemperate gust of wind
blowing your breath away.
You also knew there was
no loss you could not house.
So you repaired your hands
and reset your eyes and realigned
your feet and reshaped your heart
back into the shape of a kiss and
carried on.
You, who knew our breaking is
malleable and bruises have sunrises
and wounds are wet clay, ready to
mold the dream inside hell’s
mind; where the air has not
been screamed to ash and horizons
are not made of smoke and piece
by piece, you built a causeway
out of your body for the light
to cross.
~Andreas Fleps
Unknown, Woman with a Rose, Kalighat School, West Bengal, 1875
Ink on paper, Private Collection
Wojciech Plewiński. From the series “Carriages in Łańcut”, Łańcut, Poland. 1958