the ugly earring

ug‧ly [uhg-lee] offensive to the sense of beauty; displeasing in appearance

Month: August, 2012

random fashion post

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1. here  2. here

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scorpius jewel box

My mother only said
Thank God the scorpion picked on me
And spared my children.

poem: night of the scorpion

the thing

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“since the thing perhaps is
to eat flowers and not to be afraid”

~ e.e. cummings

image : Nadezhda Tolokonnikova

shoulder draping

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“Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.”

        ~Zora Neale Hurston
image: Navajo Classic Serape with all natural dyes, c. 1860, 73″ x 52″,
Navajo Third Phase Chiefs Blanket with Ravelled Bayeta,
Cochineal, Lac and Indigo dyes, c. 1870, 50″ x 76.5″,
Navajo Transitional textile, c. 1880, 73″ x 53″

living

“I have known the joy and pain of friendship. I have served and been served. I have made some good enemies for which I am not a bit sorry. I have loved unselfishly, and I have fondled hatred with the red-hot tongs of Hell. That’s living.”

image of Zora Neale Hurston (and her hands!) by Carl Van Vechten

silly chicken

“Ami says I love Buchi even more than I love her,
but that’s just silly.”

a photo taken by her father when she was two.
today, she is three.

words from the worn, torn, well-loved copy
of silly chicken by rukhsana khan

we eat

Women who love to write poetry are the hagfish of the world.
We eat everything. We eat the language. We eat experience.
We eat other people’s poems.

ruth stone’s words
image: The Virgin and Child with a Pomegranate, Sandro Botticelli

friday tune: 115 degree breeze

“The life of the bee will be the life of our race”

The center of all bee life is the queen.  She dominates the hive, not through hereditary right, for any egg may be hatched into a reigning queen, but because she is the womb of this insect race.

a good read: “when woman is boss” by nikola tesla

vonnegut’s sister

INTERVIEWER

What were your sister’s dreams like?

VONNEGUT

She wanted to live like a member of The Swiss Family Robinson, with impossibly friendly animals in impossibly congenial isolation. Her oldest son, Jim, has been a goat farmer on a mountaintop in Jamaica for the past eight years. No telephone. No electricity.

image: A mother and daughter plant a garden in DeKalb County in the 1940’s
(TN State Library and Archives)

kurt vonnegut interview: here