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We all have one. What does yours look like?

Look before you speak

Focus. There are so many frequencies and vibrations of thought to pick up up. Choose your focus. Tune your thoughts to the frequency of your choice. Focus.

Tate ask Girls' actress Jemima Kirke to explore the role of women in art in our latest Unlock Art video. In this film, Girls actress Jemima Kirke (known as J...

Sometimes I feel like a caged bird. Or a woman in hiding. I get confused about my isolated life when I go into town and see people I used to know. Glimpses from the past. I look at my life and questions my choices. Question if he is my true soul mate, if this is really what my spirit wants to be doing. But then I remember my values. I remember my goals, my dreams and actions. I remember how important it is for me to be removed from distractions. Distractions of ego and society. I remember how I want to listen to the birds and watch my food grow. How I want to be removed, I want to develop myself rather than the impression I leave on people. I want to strengthen my relationship with nature. Learn to listen and quiet my mind. I can easily forget these things. When I compare my life with those of others, usually though the filter of social media. Then I come back to my room, my home, my center. And I am greeted by middle schoolers who want to share their middle school drama and middle school opinions. I am greeted by a mother whose goal in life is to nurture and to share. I am greeted by the crystal blue eyes of my lover who constantly reminds me how much he loves me. When I feel like a caged bird, because I have sacrificed so much of my autonomy for this way of life, I remember the strength of my relationship with myself, the vastness of my imagination and multiple ways of communing with nature.

#isolation #caged bird #natgeo photo #My writing #remembering #life

cherishyourwilderness

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My dear sweet Nothing, let’s start anew, from here all in is just me and you.

internalclimate-blog

I am on a quest for new music. I think I like this.

#nothing arrived #villagers music #new music

thecalminside

Breathing involves a continual oscillation between exhaling and inhaling, offering ourselves to the world at one moment and drawing the world into ourselves at the next…

David Abram (via thecalminside)

For wind is moodiness personified, altering on a whim, recklessly transgressing the boundaries between places, between beings, between inner and outer worlds. The unruly poltergeist of our collective mental climate, wind, after all, is the ancient and ever-present source of the words spirit and psyche. It is the sacred ruach of the ancient Hebrews (the invisible “rushing-spirit” that lends its life to the visible world); it is the Latin anima, the soulful wind that animates all breathing beings (all animals); it is the Navajo Nilch’i (the Holy Wind from whence all earthly entities draw their awareness).

David Abram

#david abram #becoming animal #wind #spirit #nature intelligence #nature life #orion magazine

My bedroom has changed since then. This was once the view from my bed. Where I laid for many months and many days, crippled in pain from cramps or isolating myself from the communal living outside my door that was, at times, too much for me. The place I laid and watched the sun cast through the big window, illuminating the earthen walls, protecting me and holding me. I stared out the window at the cedars and maples that lined the periphery of the yard and asked the existential questions of who am I, what am I doing and where and I going. This is the room that transformed into a medieval cathedral when we made love and left our bodies for a moment. We created magic in this room. I read many books, drew many pictures, wrote essays and prose and finished college in this room. When mom and dad came to visit they stayed in this room. We fought in this room. I cried in this room. Felt trapped and alone but so in love with this room. On nights of the Full Moon I would awake with pain and restlessness from the stream of moonlight shining through the skylight directly over our bed. I would imagine a kitchen being in the corner of the room, allowing me to never have to leave and have everything I need right in our room.

#bedroom #my bedroom

Tonasket, Washington, October 2015

Tonasket has a special place in my heart. The way the mountains turn blue at certain times of the day. The way the clouds come rolling through in the morning, as if they were spirits coming to cover the land with their message. Ponderosa Pine, sagebrush and mullein. Such a dry,arid, climate with such density and vastness. My lips chap almost immediately after settling. The culture out there is different too. There is no “hip style” or “shabby chic-ness”. It is real cowboy country out there. Pendeltons and Carharts for practicality rather than fashion. The people there are “mountain folk”, don’t get much town time or people time, so they talk a lot and they “know” a lot. I like listening to their stories. I like the vastness of the sky and what it does to my psyche. I like the isolation of living up high and the dependency of the land. The solitude makes me observe more.

#mountains #mountain view #eastern washington

The sky in Tonasket.

#sky #clouds #black and white #nature #cosmic

I waited for a long time in the truck.

Tribulus terrestris

Mountain Goats Head seven feet deep Jumping from left to right, dig deeper and deeper What is it you want, what are your secrets? I step on you and look up to see nine mountain goats staring back at me. One by one, horns to baby, patiently waiting for the last pair of wobbly legs To scale the side, And I wait and watch, One by one Looking back at me from up top, Majestically guarding his presence and kin

Devils Weed and Goats Head With mother ship roots Branching out and feeding A network of crawling weapons Providing the ultimate protection I feel it in my chest

#medicinal plants #poetry #devils #weed #goats head #protection

This is what I do. I drink coffee all day, while writing words and singing songs for you. Its only 9 am, theres still lots I can do The sun is just melting the frost and the chickens, the chickens have yet to squack

So I’ll sit here and write Sip sippin away Till the fire runs out and I feel I should be on my way But until then, I’ll continue to float On this dreamy little boat Sip sippin away.

#my words #my poetry

You look familiar he said to me as we talked. I shrugged and smiled saying this might be our first. Dried plums and googly eyes, big sweater and life history truth’s, He told me about bubbles and how the earth isn’t all just greens and blues. We sipped our coffee, with many comfortable silences Just me and ol’ man Gary Sharing in each other’s morning do’s You look familiar He said to me as we talked. And handed me a cherry from the basket tied around his chest. I told him this is our first, I’ve never seen him before But maybe some other place, somewhere we both have yet to explore. You look familiar I just have that familiar face

#familiar faces #poetry #sharing voice #my words

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