Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

–Naomi Shihab Nye, from The Words Under the Words

I always meet the most amazing folks, on moto trips!!

So pretty.

“But colors are not possessions: they are the intimate revelations of an energy. “Colours are the deeds and sufferings of light,” wrote German poet and dramatist Johann Wolfgang von Geothe. They are light wasves and mathematically precise lengths, and they are deep, resonant mysteries with boundless subjectivity.

Colors challenge language to encompass the. (It cannot; there are more sensations than words for them. Our eyes are far ahead of our tongues.) Colors bear the metaphors of entire cultures. They convey every sensation from lust to distress. They glow fluorescent on  the flanks of a fish out of the water, then flee at its death. They mark the land of a woman deity who controls the soft desert rain. Flowers use colors ruthlessly for sex.

Moths steal them from their surroundings and disappear. An octopus commincates by color; an octopus blush is language. Humans imbibe colors as antidotes to emotional monotony. Our lives, when we pay attention to light, compel us to empathy with color.” – from Ellen Meloy’s excellent book, The Anthropology of Turquoise.

water and feeling it on my face!

GO ROCKIES!!!

From Hermes of Paris, add campaign

“Writing practice brings us back to the uniqueness of our own minds and an acceptance of it. We all have wild dreams, fantasies, and ordinary thoughts. Let us to feel the texture of them and not be afraid of them.Writing is still the wildest thing I know.”
― Natalie Goldberg, Wild Mind: Living the Writer’s Life