familiar sounds

when i was kid, growing up in south-south-south georgia, we lived in an old-old-old little farm-like house in a great neighborhood. the house was drafty, echo-y, it creeked and squeeked. my dad had a small, prestigiously selective collection of vinyl records. one of them i heard so often that her voice was a constant sound in the background that mulled well with the other white noise of the house. here is one song, probably the most memorable.

winter savory

Love to throw yourself on the earth and kiss it. Kiss the earth and love it with an unceasing, consuming love. -Feodor Dostoyevsky

words once said about living as art

The most visible creators I know of are those artists whose medium is life itself. The ones who express the unexpressible– without brush, hammer, clay or guitar. They neither paint nor sculpt. Their medium is being. Whatever their presence touches has increased life. They see and don't have to draw. They are the artists of being alive.

-Jane Stone

This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess of that precious nourishing love from which flowers and children have their strength and which could help all human beings if they would take it without doubting.

-Rilke

What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.

-Emerson