And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?
Rumi
“There are nine requisites for contented living: HEALTH enough to make work a pleasure; WEALTH enough to support your needs; STRENGTH enough to battle with difficulties and forsake them; GRACE enough to confess your sins and overcome them; PATIENCE enough to toil until some good is accomplished; CHARITY enough to see some good in your neighbor; LOVE enough to move you to be useful and helpful to others; FAITH enough to make real the things of God; HOPE enough to remove all anxious fears concerning the future. ”
Goethe
via
pesha reblogged
10 ways men can help end domestic violence.
A story of a hustler in Vegas with a heart of gold. I just wanted to hug this guy, and invite his daughter for a Shabbat meal.
broadway baby
i have this uncanny feeling that i'm going to grow up and be a stage mother.
it's alright to cry. crying takes the sadness out of you."
- the free to be you and me record that we played on my fisher price turntable
divina.
x marks the spot
christmas lights twinkling used to sting.
they brightened the street but created a dull
strong ache in my chest. they pricked
and meant a six-year-old cutting blue paper candles
instead of red.
no invitation for secret santa
a never-trimmed, non-existent tree.
and just that strong blue ache.
tonight on a road in jewish jerusalem
a lone tree sparkled in the baptist center
and two girls let out squeal: "a christmas tree!"
our words hushing the cold air
sweetness and nostalgia
a familiar ache.
20 years later
across the world
there is still the sting.
but now it's longing for
family
and familiarity
togetherness, unity and calm.
the expected. the used to.
and maybe even a bit of the isolation.
Amelia's preconditions.
I love when 4-year-olds flirt.
Lexington, Massachusetts
In Boston for a one-day shoot and totally charmed by the town, the architecture, and the accompanying suburbs, separated by windy streets, starting-to-get-sparse trees, and brightly painted ginger bread houses. I felt a sense of calm here: maybe the history deletes any possibility of pretension. Boston (and Lexington and Burlington and Cambridge) knows who she is. She's been around the block and she's seen it all. There's a steadiness, an all-knowingness and an ease. American and sturdy, wind-blown but intact. Peaceful. Proud.
all day shoot at the lincoln memorial
Globalization
Six airports in seven days. I always dreamed I would have a job that flung me all over the globe, but removing your shoes at security checkpoints is less glamorous than I expected.
pesha reblogged
The moon goes down like a coin. Spent, even memory is becoming a memory. Any tree would seem to grieve, what with the hawk lonelinessing on her desiccated perch. Her feathers are the opposite of snow. The day has never been so much the night and vice versa. And the afternoon never so much the afternoon. Meanwhile, meanwhile. Years ago, a child put a coin in the crook of this tree. Now, the sun is drawn up like a pail from a well. The pail is poured out and snow. —John Poch, “Well into Winter” Art Credit Pablos Herrero
Evening poetry
repurposed sunflowers
Mini road trip yields a silo filled with books...and a guitar. emek ha-ela, oct 2012
pesha reblogged
this is like “you are what you eat” only true