INNER EXCAVATIONS

JQ Dawson: a travelogueॐ

[transparent-flowers]

[theburnthatkeepseverything]

I memorize my life so it’s still there when i arrive again in the morning.

Andrew Michael Roberts. (via theburnthatkeepseverything)

[writingsforwinter]

[thedbldee]

[bdamani]

Darling, the Great are often bruised.

B. Damani  (via featherumbrellas)

[gaixjin]

Visit Original Link

You’re always looking at the floor When I’m looking in your eyes

[moonflock]

Dawn gapes wide as the pelvis I wear as my crown. I want to stitch a dress into my skin, I want my tongue into a shrine, untouchable, on fire. I dream of a mouth reforested, Eve left to name all the animals. I roll in the dirt with her, Eve’s darkskinned shadow, Eve’s fingers mounting my ribcage. Evening and I sew my leg hairs into a robe, coat it in salt, name it armor, name it appetite. A boy puts his hands near mine and I crack open his jaw like a window, climb in. Tonight I fit my fist into my underwear, let it sink me like a stillborn. I clean my teeth with the rusty side of a penny, imagine if images were currency: a mirror that pays you back by returning you a limb at a time.

Dawning, K. Chang (via bothwaybeatnik)

yes

(via commovente)

[fuckyeahwachowskis]

Bae Doona as Sonmi~451 in Cloud Atlas (dir. Lana & Andy Wachowski, Tom Tykwer)

“Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime, and every kindness, we birth our future.”

[mpilpani-blog1]

[ohhsheroams-blog]

MEDITATIONS ON THE EVE OF MY 27TH BIRTHDAY - le 28 aout 2015 @ 13:45 Something struck me this past month. It was electrical, like lighting: a flash of sudden awareness that inspired change, a shedding of false layers of self. I feel as though I’ve simultaneously slowed down and sped up, contracting while expanding.  In preparation for another revolution around the Sun, I’ve been meditating upon the past twenty-six years of my earthly existence. Many milestones have been successfully marked thus far, with many more upon the horizon still. I’ve gone through various incarnations of self during this lifetime. I’ve been the sad poet, the inquisitive psychonaut, the intense ascetic. This past year, however, has seen a dulling of my senses (though I say this lightly) due to overindulgence in drinks that don’t serve any true purpose, the fill up of liquids leaving me hardly fulfilled. Recognizing this, I’ve pulled back and paused to re-evaluate, to re-align my actions with my intentions. The realization that I’m about to enter what I consider to be a very sacred space of time (a three year period prior to reaching three decades) has brought me into a deeper awareness of self and surroundings. This past month, I’ve returned to a diligent practice of yoga and meditation. Rather than decompressing from work with drinking downtown, I’ve been diving into documentaries that have inspired me to pare down to the essentials and live on a humble budget of $20 a day. Most days I abstain from spending at all. Resolving to rapidly evolve before my 27th birthday, I’ve reconnected with habits I know of old, shades of self circa 2007. Muscles and molecules retain profound memory indeed. Rather auspiciously, this birthday, my 27th, falls on a full moon and this particular full moon will be in Pisces, as was the configuration of the celestial canvas I was born under. To celebrate, I am embarking on a three day backpacking trip. I am my truest form of self when I am in Nature, when I’m freely roaming the earth. This weekend, I will abstain from drinking, but were I to lift a goblet and toast anyone, it would be to Muir, to Thoreau, to Krishnamurti, to Hesse, to the Sun and Moon, to unbridled Nature, to birds of a feather who have seen me through cycles and seasons, to my biological parents for recognizing that I deserved a chance, to my adoptive parents for encouraging my passion to explore and discover, and, finally, to the future and the destiny I am to fulfill. Upon my return, I will be launching my travel blog. It’s been tedious to backlog adventures (as a compulsive video gathering, I seem to be perpetually buried beneath an avalanche of new footage), but honouring new(/old) grooves and reverence for my career plans, rest assured the reflections will surface to be shared with all who wish to adventure vicariously through the lens of this curious kitten, this lover of Earth, destined to wander in wonder, and, ultimately, find a way to give back. I am on my way.

[ohhsheroams-blog]

WITH LOVE, FROM SEQUOIA NATIONAL PARK - le 26 juin 2015 @ 09:18 

Traveling transforms me into an early riser; the raptor within, eager for the worm. Synced with the sun, I prepare myself for new adventures as the surrounding ornithological opera adds melody to my methods. Cinematic, indeed.

It’s been a whirlwind of non-stop trekking since the moment the plane touched down in Vegas until yesterday evening. Through neon lights and appropriated art, acclimating to soaring degrees of dry heat, to the grandest of canyons bathed in sunset, sunrise hues. Then, a spontaneous detour through Navajo Nation in the Painted Desert before being dazzled by Death Valley, painted peaks and artists’ palettes. I was revived by an energy utterly indescribable. There, beneath the stars, something within me shifted. Something was shed, and naked truths were rediscovered. Light was absorbed and reflected. Clarity was conjured in the desert, driving through an ever-changing landscape of dunes, desolate flatlands, oasises sprouting every now and then. Onward through mountains and red rock canyons, through farmland affected by drought, golden hills stretching far into the horizon, swaying in the heated breeze. Finally, a climb through narrow, serpentine roads in the mountains, waiting with bated breath for ancient trees, awe-struck and humbled as the Druids of Eld presented themselves.

I am used to pitching a tent in the dark by now. I am filthy and caked in sweet earth from all places I’ve paused. The LA leg of the trip must be delayed as I slow down with the sequoias, taking time to process what I’ve seen and (re)discovered. Today is for the trees, for extended hikes that don’t require a headlamp, for finding a source of water to bathe and baptize. Today, I contemplate the subtle complexities of the Universe, or maybe I won’t think too hard and simply Be, anchored in whatever moment unfolds. This is a majestic metamorphosis; I am grateful, I am blessed. And I am sending you all golden vibes.

[ohhsheroams-blog]

The trick is to keep your heart as open as these open roads.

Death Valley, USA

le 24 juin 2015 @ 06:07

[ohhsheroams-blog]

this is a sacred place. Navajo Nation, Painted Desert, Arizona, CA, le 23 juin 2015 @ 12:35

[ohhsheroams-blog]

South Rim Sunset Vibes Grand Canyon, USA le 22 juin 2015 @ 19:24

[ohhsheroams-blog]

MANU & THE MOTORCYLE - le 14 septembre 2014 @ 20:14

My stomach growled with uncomfortable demand, but I knew Manu’s invitation for an evening motorcycle ride would sate a deeper hunger, one more intense and fulfilling, one for adventure and new experiences. “On my tombstone they will carve, "IT NEVER GOT FAST ENOUGH FOR ME.” ― Hunter S. Thompson *** Slipping his spare red helmet on my head, I buckle the straps, adjust them, then turn to my mount: a shiny black Suzuki motorcycle, glistening beneath Stuttgart street lamps, with Manu, in his sleek leather jacket, already aboard. He complements the entire aesthetic with cool, charming confidence, and I feel safe wrapping my arms around his fit frame even though we’d only met mere days before. Along the first stretch, we pause at a red light, and he informs me we’ve just traveled at 160kph (the equivalent of 100mph). He asks three times during the course of our cruise if we should go further. Three times I answer, “Yes,” and hold on a little tighter. We fly, increasingly fast and free, cutting through forces that beat against us like a hot knife through butter. Much ground is covered. I’m on a whirlwind tour of the city and surrounding areas, and I do my best to assimilate all the sights and sounds that unfold in ever-changing scenes. We speed through tunnels of gold, wiggling through columns of cars at red lights to the front of the line, racing when the light turns green. Mercedes and Porsche can’t keep up with my Suzuki sister tonight. When he asks again and I agree, we exit the city and enter the highway. Eyes rendered blurry by gusts of wind, everything becomes a neon impressionistic painting. Bright snakes of coloured light-trails emerge from the darkness over hills, around bends, and slither swiftly past. “In a car you're always in a compartment,” writes Robert M. Pirsig in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, “On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.” Well, I’m not overwhelmed; I am exhilarated, baptized by the winds, heading full force into the night. I am vulnerable and exposed, and I’m loving every second. Lowering the visor separates me from the bliss of autumnal air beating against my face, but I can see, at least, with sharper vision. Lines come to focus, abstract patches become polygons. We cross bridges over roads and water to explore the suburbs of Stuttgart, sleepy citizens in quiet quarters unaware of our adventure. We pass vineyards with grapes ripening in the silent night. Young, sweet rieslings. Liquid gold. We could crash at any moment, so I make peace knowing the day I spent with Her was perfect. Knowing if I survive the speed and the danger, she’ll be there to greet me at the door.

[ohhsheroams-blog]

(stuttg)Architecture. Oppenlander, Stuttgart, Deutschland. le 14 septembre, 2014 @ 12:43

[ohhsheroams-blog]

Downtown Skyscraper  Portland, OR. le 10 mai 2014 @ 16:01