Mist and mystery
Tunes for a Monday Morning

Archaic values

Bluebells in Nattadon Woods

Wild poppies in Nattadon Wood

''Humans, like other animals, are shaped by the places they inhabit, both individually and collectively. Our bodily rhythms, our moods, cycles of creativity and stillness, even our thoughts are readily engaged and influenced by seasonal patterns in the land. Yet our organic attunement to the local earth is thwarted by our ever-increasing intercourse with our own signs. Transfixed by our technologies, we short-circuit the sensorial reciprocity between our breathing bodies and the bodily terrain. Human awareness folds in upon itself, and the senses – once the crucial site of our engagement with the wild and animate earth – become mere adjuncts of an isolate and abstract mind bent on overcoming an organic reality that now seems disturbingly aloof and arbitrary."

  - David Abram (The Spell of the Sensuous)

Wildflowers in the studio

''I wonder how it is we have come to this place in our society where art and nature are spoke in terms of what is optional, the pastime and concern of the elite?'' - Terry Tempest Williams (Leap)

Tilly in the studio

Tilly in the studio

 ''As a poet I hold the most archaic values on earth...the fertility of the soil, the magic of animals, the power-vision in solitude, the terrifying initiation and rebirth, the love and ecstasy of the dance, the common work of the tribe. I try to hold both history and the wilderness in mind, that my poems may approach the true measure of things and stand against the unbalance and ignorance of our times.''  -  Gary Snyder (The Practice of the Wild)

Practice of the Wild

Comments

Love the photo of your desk with the flowers tossed into a jar.

I saw Dwellings by Linda Hogan on your desk a while back and was reminded to read it. So very very good. One of those books you wish never to leave.

Exactly what I needed this morning. Especially the Gary
Snyder quote.

That's a thoughtful quote by Williams.

I bought my second house 2 years ago after swearing I would never again (lost it in a blowback from a divorce) and I really love just being there. The funny thing is - people think I'm strange for wanting to be at home all the time instead of "going somewhere". I have walked my dog or just myself in the same state forest for the past 18 years and people always ask me why I don't 'go somewhere else" or "see something different".

When I read these quotes from Gary especially, it reminds me why I walk and just be in the same areas every day. It's because I love the land I'm with and that love can't grow or deepen without intimate contact. I know the changes that each day brings on the land around me and yet it always surprises me (like the endangered Pink Lady Slippers that hide in plain view along the asphalted road of the state forest!).

Lovely blog, I've just subscribed. Look forward to reading more.

your photos are so full of the joys & wonder in your corner of paradise, love the quote from Rumi about how in early spring we "slightly recall" being green!

Oh my dear--tonight, imprisoned three floors up in a more and more alien city, with sounds of cops complaining to one another in the street below, the sight of your world just makes me weep for longing. It is raining softly, and if I close my eyes and select the sound, I can imagine waves. Often I wake in the middle of night, and throw something on to venture out into the quiet time when the bars close and the people disappear. A few times around Gramercy park, where on the West side the scent of sweet flowerings fills me with a sense of goodness, then home to visit the landscapes of dream. Love to you and Tilly.

Because of the Rumi quote above:

Remembering Color

In Early spring I remember being green:
being the curl of fern reaching up,
the fuzzy beads on the dogwood tree,
thrusting daffodil leaves, the weep of willows.

In Summer I remember being gold:
the crown on sunflower heads,
sunny-backed caterpillars inching
on a long stem, the beat of monarch wings
veined as a cathedral window.

In Fall I remember being red,
being atomic bursts of maple leaves,
and roadside sumac cackling the crackle
blaze of fires during autumn cleanup.

In winter I remember being white,
sleeting balls of ice coating the car,
long trail of a worn sled run, portcullis
teeth of angel snow children grinning.

I always remember being full of color.
It has nothing to do with skin.

©2014 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

I want children to read this!

I'd just like to say how much I enjoy this blog. I've been lurking for a few weeks and it has moved from being an occasional read to a daily one. I love the range of quotes and reflections, and today's music has been great.

Thank you, Sooz! I'm afraid I won't be daily in the week ahead, but I hope to be back next week.

Oh... just found your blog through Pinterest. Just loving your theme and the pictures in this post made me all warm inside. :D Time to explore this blog some more, take care!
/Johanna, Sweden

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