Fringe arm warmers by Derya Davenport free on her website
Very clever ! Must make ! ♥
Centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa people used to gather for these moonlight dances, of sacred dance of music that would go on for hours and hours until dawn, and they were always magnificent because the dancers were professionals and were terrific, right, but, every once in a while, very rarely, something would happen and one of these performers would actually become transcendent. And I know you know what I’m talking about, because I know you’ve all seen at some point in your life a performance like this, you know, and it was like time would stop and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal. And he wasn’t doing anything different then he had ever done, you know, a thousand nights before, but everything would align and all of the sudden he would no longer appear to be merely human. you know, he would be like light from within and lit from below and all like lit up on fire with divinity. And when this happened back then people knew it for what it was, you know, they called it by its name. They would put their hands together and start to chant “Allah! Allah! Allah! God! God! God! That’s God!”
The tricky bit comes the next morning, right, for the dancer himself, when he wakes up and discovers that it’s Tuesday at 11 am and he’s no longer a glimpse of god, he’s just an aging mortal with really bad knees. And, you know, maybe he’s never going to ascend to that height again, and maybe no body will ever chant gods name again as he spins…and what is he then to do with the rest of his life?
…This is hard - this is one of the most painful reconciliations to make in a creative life, you know, but maybe it doesn’t have to be quite so full of anguish if you never happened to believe in the first place that the most extraordinary aspects of your being came from you but maybe if you just believed that they were on loan to you you know from some unimaginable source for some exquisite portion of your life to be passed along when you are finished with sombody else.
And you know if we think about it this way it starts to change everything.
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| — | Elizabeth Gilbert (via pandemicatcastleravenloft) |
‘Was it black, Sandy, or just a touch of the cream - I forget?’ she asks with mock gentility. This is the Pharisaic life we lead — she is telling him — a continent lies dying at our door, and here we stand or kneel drinking coffee off a silver tray while just down the road children starve, the sick die and crooked politicians bankrupt the nation that was tricked into electing them.
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| — | The Constant Gardener, by John le Carré (via flourhoneyandmilk) |
My Peace Corps village was along the continental divide of Panama right across from the Pena Blanca, white rocky cliff, that sits like a king looking into the Pacific Ocean.
Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is really worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person’s face as you pass them on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It’s okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise.
“
| — | Miranda July (via uhhlampshade) |
