The gentle changes of the season, the apple tree, the garden and the sky.
The flamingos emerge beneath the bird feeder.
And so many flowers still here.
Crossing the river.
But not on the west side; we are getting a new bridge.Own the means of production.
Get him out. Repair the damage. Restore our democracy. Do more than just vote.
To “go viking” is to strike out on an epic adventure, unsure of what you’ll find.
On the press this week a little card with an important message to all the travelers on board.
and on the alleyway bulletin board at toMake™
“So what do we do with this? The sanest response that I can find is that our work remains to make beauty blossom anew out of desecration. We don’t get to choose either the context or the impact of that work. Healing needs to happen, and we all have our own part to play in that. If you are lucky enough not to need to urgently engage in this on your own account, then you have the opportunity to focus on the externalized manifestations of our culture’s sickness. But if the healing you are responsible for right now is only your own, that is still part of the work. So this is how I have attempted to square this utterly devastating curve ball of my body’s sickness and everything that came before it, and perhaps this is also a way to approach the great converging crises of our times: to keep moving in the direction we know to be truthful and just and holy as best we can, to keep deepening into veneration and reverence and wonder, and to work to peel away the compacted, muddled layers of hubris and trauma and distraction and wrong-thinking that seek always to blinker and misguide us. Our time here is short and precious and beautiful, despite everything. I don’t want to say anything about hope or about optimism; I’m not sure how relevant they are here. I will say this: Take courage – don’t lose heart.”
from Sick an essay by Cate Chapman on Dark Mountain