Gently Smoking Meat

ROTA SUM SICUT INDOMITUS. Ace: Young: Southern Appalachian: he/him/his: . I am a eater, a dreamer, a soul searching healer. A drinker a smoker, and a dead thing poker, I forage and lurk and play while I work, and I sing while the stars look down.

[museum-of-artifacts]

Viking axe head. 1030 years old, found in Denmark

[shittyidea]

An economy that relies on crime

[dyspunktional-deactivated201804]

Oh boy have I got news for you!

[nayyirahwaheed-deactivated20180]

canada. photo courtesy of @1242crew.

[discardingimages]

devil in the vineyard

Apocalypse, England ca. 1300

BnF, Latin 10474, fol. 30v

[cyberbotanist]

From the first episode of Mushishi season 2. A brewer finds a yeast-like mushi in flower nectar, which allows him to brew magical sake with the properties of Kouki, Mushishi’s spiritual life fluid.It’s an especially clear example of the congruence between the mushi ecology and the conventional one. The yeast mushi is even depicted more or less like a real yeast. The mushi is, like a real yeast, just taking photosynthetically-produced sugars and converting them into a magical, psychoactive substance, which in turn is an energy source that attracts other creatures. It just feels different because kouki is mystical and symbolic, and we’re just too close to actual primary productivity to frame it in that way. The show’s out-of-time image of the kouki River of Light allows us to visualize what is more or less the flow of energy powering all of our thoughts and actions–something real ecology can only do with arrows and diagrams (which are great, but not quite as evocative). 

[waterinmyblood]

This episode rocked me.

[exploreelsewhere]

Natural Christmas Tree on the shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota. [OC] [4507X3380] ✈

[waterinmyblood]

Souls...

[eisflan]

[thegreenwolf]

People often think of fire as a destructive force, and it can be. But fire also rejuvenates the land. Many grasses have evolved root systems that survive fires so they can be renewed, and some trees and other plants have seeds that only germinate after a fire has come through. Plus fires clean out old dead wood and other debris, making it easier for fresh plant life to grow. 

[cvllam]

Mont Saint Michel in Normandy, France.

[poisonwasthecure]

Detail of the Snakes from Caravaggio’s Head of Medusa ca. 1596

[discardingimages]

king Philip of Macedon is being treated unfairly

conception of Alexander the Great, Les faize d'Alexandre (translation of Historiae Alexandri Magni of Quintus Curtius Rufus), Bruges ca. 1468-1475

BL, Burney 169, fol. 14r

[jaded-mandarin]

After Guido Reni. Detail from Europa and the Bull, 17th Century.

[watchoutforintellect]

…daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow)

e. e. cummings, from “#16 (in time of daffodils)” featured in 95 Poems (via watchoutforintellect)

[wildcompassmagic]

The wild is an integral part of who we are as children. Without pausing to consider what or where or how, we gather herbs and flowers, old apples and rose hips, shiny pebbles and dead spiders, poems, tears and raindrops, putting each treasured thing into the cauldron of our souls. We stir our bucket of mud as if it were, every one, a bucket of chocolate cake to be mixed for the baking. Little witches, hag children, we dance our wildness, not afraid of not knowing.

Emma Restall Orr (via wildcompassmagic)

[thorneater]

[survivethejive]

The snake witch stone from sweden has this unique and fascinating symbol. A #triskelion made of three beasts. One is clearly a boar, Another is a bird, likely an eagle 🦅, the third could be a dragon or a stylised wolf 🐺 #pagan #swedishhistory #norsemythology #history

[becuzitisbitter]

My gf sent me this 🌷🐰

[bookmania]

Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via bookmania)