and I may watch the world at small

a parenthesis in eternity "In late winter it is forbidden to knit on the doorstep, as that is known to lengthen the winter." var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-23232537-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();

[birdish-blog]

Quartermarks

My mother, my father digging up weeds, planting peach pits rolling out the garden hose the old wooden fence past the lavender path, which smelled so good in the sun our neighbors on the other side, growing quiet as we grew loud, making peace as we became unsettled. "You need to make yourself happy before you can save the world." "I don't know if I can be happy unless I am trying." "You're young." and don't understand the sacrifices, what it means to feel the weight of responsibility forty plus one-hundred-twenty-eight hours a week. You're too young to grow weary; that's what the neighbors are. You're not there yet. So tie your laces and run because you can run your body says, "It's not time to grow weary yet."

[getthesoundoffyourhead]

Visit Original Link

[birdish-blog]

Sin Fang - Look At The Light

It hurts to breath around you My lungs fill up with sea It hurts to be around you I know you feel it too

[birdish-blog]

A travel blog

Hello friends, long time no post on my end! At least here...because I've been writing on this about my adventures because that's what you do when you're visiting all sorts of continents and want to remember what happened in as much detail as possible. Give it a read if you have a little time, or say hello, because I always appreciate that.

http://uncommonbirds.blogspot.com/

[soundtracksfromfilms]

Visit Original Link

[birdish-blog]

Justin Timberlake, Carey Mulligan, and Stark Sands - 500 Miles

[birdish-blog]

*rambly*

I feel like I've forgotten something really important.

Multiple things, actually. The things that kept me writing urgently in my room by lantern light, the things that had me feeling completely at peace listening to Sigur Rós at two in the morning and thinking about lost seafarers and nothing else, the things that led me to connect to those of you that I've met through here. The things that drew me closer to some core thing that was so inspiring, maybe untouchable, and worth chasing. A feeling: the feeling of being completely immersed in the beauty of the world, the desire to find that wherever it was and try to see it more clearly by writing poems, making music, creating art. The fascination with the term negative capability.

Maybe I've forgotten because I've found new things, and it's hard to remember all of them as well as the old, and all at once. A lot has changed and I'm thinking differently, with new ideas and concerns and people and perspectives. I'm less consigned to being lost and young in the world and living in my imagination. More driven to find out what change I want to see in the world and how to go about making that happen.

Living externally, less internally.

I think both are important, and that it shouldn't and doesn't have to be a tradeoff. Or at least I want it to not have to be a tradeoff for me. I'm looking for a balance now and hoping I'll find it.

I also feel like I get introspective to the point of being self-centered, but yo dis my blog so I'm just gonna do that here.

[ugh-blog1]

[birdish-blog]

Dreams to have while walking home from the library

I read of mangroves, coastal forest far away protection against monsoons, a gnarled seawall –  nature standing up against its watery cousin who would sometimes threaten death when cousin cried and overflowed with tears.

But mangroves are far away, small black and white image printed on trees so far from arboreal, trunks whittled down and forced into a single, bleached dimension to serve such a purpose now as to show a photo of a mangrove.

Just as flat and white, but the moon seemed closer that night. Closer than mangroves and monsoons. Back down to this autumn scene, now the maples stand burning all crimson Maroon leaves.

Monsoon trees. There is life here and now, then there is life in pictures and words. Our minds catch both in one fell swoop and they dance together in their captive company, lightly stepping but sometimes intersecting in their closeness – the impossible twirling of stony boughs become a nest for the granite moon, immobile limbs graced with the agility of dreams. Fancy flying one thought to the other, closing the distance and realizing two worlds mingling in an elegant, chaotic embrace. Mangroves holding the harvest moon, from both the truth and I so far, but so beautiful.

[birdish-blog]

[birdish-blog]

Things that make me happy right now

My house. It took some time to get used to it and understand its personality, but now it’s such a home and I’m happy I chose to live here this year. I learn a little more about it everyday, it’s so complex.

Friends. So many people that I’m blessed to know and see around all the time, in the magical world of the college campus where pretty much everyone you know is within walking distance. Knowing that people have your back and that you have theirs.

Being interested in someone and having them actually seem to reciprocate, just maybe possibly yeah. The sense of momentum that comes with that.

That music has always been in my life

Fall weather, fall colors

An incredible sense of agency in everything I do. Totally owning it.

That I’m enjoying all of my classes

Meta, but that I’m happy. And so continues the positive (ha) feedback loop of good feelings.

[birdish-blog]

Two AM

Two AM, out on the cliffside. We spent all night connecting the stars as they demanded urgency of thought, our minds said. Connect the stars, and you will see something else.

We tried to make sense of them - saw you dancing in the sky, saw your neighbor's dog leaping, saw your dad's houseplant.

As we watched the night shift ever so slowly, I wondered if we had made anything dancer, dog, plant that was not already there. Did we add to this world?

You pointed out a shooting star, and it was real. My mind asked to retrace its path, but instead I looked out for more shooting stars, more truth.

[birdish-blog]

There is something about seeing your housemates standing out on your porch in the dark - one in a beekeeping suit spraying a hole in the wall with wasp spray, one filming the event for a class, the others pointing flashlights at the hole and watching intently - that feels really meaningful.

[ianception]

[birdish-blog]

In love with many things and people.

[birdish-blog]

Why do I always end up still being awake at 2 AM?

[birdish-blog]

An owl seeing the ocean for the first time. Took this one during a weekend event for families featuring rehabilitated raptors at the museum.

[birdish-blog]

Closing on the last day at work

I'm sitting at the end of a period of time, and everything is calm and quiet.

The view from the box office window is of the parking lot, where orange illumination from the street lamps reveals parts of cars and lines white paint marking the ground. There is the vague sense that I am babysitting the moviegoers, most of whom are senior citizens. I mean, I give them food, show them where the bathroom is, and clean up after their messes. But I digress.

It's a peaceful place to be in, between two worlds. The time of transition between the two is neither sweet nor bitter nor tasteless, but something else. Maybe refreshing is the best word, like sparkling water: without flavor but full of some other sensation.

There is a novelty to these times because of the their rarity – they sit in the divide between the sloping edges of two periods of time. It's the center of a valley between two mountains, windy and in the shadows. There is a good view of both peaks and a recognition that one was challenging to go down and that the other will be challenging to climb up. You know you'll spend a lot more time on the mountain than here in the flat land of the valley. But the physical struggle that you can sense on your skin is not yet inside your body, not yet asking your muscles and bones to work away at your mind's goal. Yet you feel it, you feel both of the mountains.

So I am sitting here on a chair that has always been a little too tall and waiting to draw down the shades, close the door, and lay everything in gentle wait for a next day that I will play no part in. I will be long gone by then.

[birdish-blog]

*insert as caption to relevant meme-style photo*

IS ABOUT TO GO ON FIRST BACKPACKING TRIP

NATIONAL NEWS REPORTS ON RISES IN CASES OF LYME DISEASE AND BEAR MAULINGS