Sunday, October 16, 2011

Sunday Morning Poetry

Utopia lies at the horizon.
When I draw nearer by two steps,
it retreats two steps.
If I proceed ten steps forward, it
swiftly slips ten steps ahead.
No matter how far I go, I can never reach it.
What, then, is the purpose of utopia?
It is to cause us to advance.

- Eduardo Hughes Galeano



Thursday, October 13, 2011

leggings and delirium.

Okay, everyone. Prepare yourself for a few sentences of serious whining here... I promise I'll drop it in a minute, but seriously. I may be the only person in the world who is peeved at this weather we've had in the midwest the last week or two, but seriously? Eighty degrees in October? I'm all for sunshine and warm weather, but if we skip straight over fall and right into snowy frigid winter without any time for me to enjoy this in-betweeny weather I am not going to be a happy camper. In an effort to fall-ify my summery wardrobe, I'm topping every outfit with leggings. Sorry, fall. I may be sweating my tush off, but I'm going to keep wearing them until the weather actually necessitates them. 

dress: vintage, thrifted; leggings: primark, london; flats: boston store
notice that weird little out-of-place bump on the side of my dress? I didn't realize it until halfway through the day, but it had caught on a doorframe or something and ripped a big ole' hole in the seaming! Luckily I made a quick stop home and stitched it up so it's good again, but I'll always have these pictures to remember my clumsiness and obliviousness

Anyways, because I do not want to be thought a major grumpy gills, let's talk about GOOD news! When I left you last, my roomie & I were still waiting to hear if we were finally free of the icky apartment (refer to here if you're confused :)), and recently we got confirmation that our old lease has been broken and we're free of all of their sludge and drudge. The day that we moved things out of the old apartment, we went hunting for a new one and found the most perfect apartment in the entire world just a few blocks away that we'll be moving into at the end of the month. In preparation, I've been going crazy pants on my pinterest with decorating inspiration and getting excited to make this new place my home! Are you on pinterest? Come find me! If I'm not sleeping, working, or at grad school, odds are I'm likely pinning the crap out of everything I can find. It's an addiction. 


I have to make a quick apology for the disjointed nature of this post-- since it truly has been a while, I'm a bit rusty at this whole thing. I trust I'll get my blogging mojo back gradually, but for now we'll just say that my slight lack of direction here is caused by heat-induced delirium, because really. It just might be. 



Sunday, October 9, 2011

Sunday Morning Poetry


Saints Bowling in the Mountains
Do you know how beautiful you are?

I think not, my dear.

For as you talk of God,
I see great parades with wildly colorful bands
Streaming from your mind and heart,
Carrying wonderful and secret messages
To every corner of this world.

I see saints bowing in the mountains
Hundreds of miles away
To the wonder of sounds
That break into light
From your most common words.

Speak to me of your mother,
Your cousins and your friends.

Tell me of squirrels and birds you know.
Awaken your legion of nightingales -
Let them soar wild and free in the sky.

And begin to sing to God.
Let's all begin to sing to God!

Do you know how beautiful you are?

I think not, my dear,

Yet Hafiz
Could set you upon a Stage
And worship you forever!

Hafiz



Sunday, October 2, 2011

Sunday Morning Poetry

Moving Water



When  you do things from your soul, you feel a river
moving in you, a joy.

When actions come from another section, the feeling
disappears.  Don't let

others lead you.  They may be blind or, worse, vultures.
Reach for the rope

of God.  And what is that?  Putting aside self-will.
Because of willfulness

people sit in jail, the trapped bird's wings are tied,
fish sizzle in the skillet.

The anger of police is willfulness.  You've seen a magistrate
inflict visible punishment.  Now 

see the invisible.  If you could leave your selfishness, you
would see how you've

been torturing your soul.  We are born and live inside black water in a well.

How could we know what an open field of sunlight is? Don't
insist on going where

you think you want to go.  Ask the way to the spring.  Your
living pieces will form

a harmony.  There is a moving palace that floats in the air
with balconies and clear

water flowing through, infinity everywhere, yet contained
under a single tent.

Rumi