A family of river otters have made an appearance in the past week. A neighbor saw this one from her porch and called another neighbor who has a telephoto lens and took this photo. A few days ago, early in the morning, I saw this same otter scampering around on the flattened cattails. Nearby were two other otters who looked as if they were tumbling in play together, partially hidden by the standing cattails. What a joy!
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While doing my daily yoga practice, I've been listening to the On Being archives under the topic of "Creative Life." The Joy Harjo and then Hanif Abdurraqib interviews are the ones I listened to in the last few days. I listened to the short versions of all the "Creative Life" interviews and now am listening to them again in the unedited versions which last up to 90 minutes. Every single interview has been memorable and an inspiration to my creative work, giving me access to a vast community of creative people.
“Though we have instructions and a map buried in our hearts when we enter this world, nothing quite prepares us for the abrupt shift to the breathing realm.”
"The saxophone made it across the big waters and was introduced in brass bands in the South. The music followed rivers into new towns, cities, all the way to our new lands. Not long after, in the early 1900s, my grandmother Naomi Harjo learned to play saxophone. I can feel her now when I play the instrument we both loved and love. The saxophone is so human. Its tendency is to be rowdy, edgy, talk too loud, bump into people, say the wrong words at the wrong time, but then, you take a breath all the way from the center of the earth and blow. All that heartache is forgiven. All that love we humans carry makes a sweet, deep sound and we fly a little.”
(Joy Harjo)
"To love oneself is hard work. But I think it becomes harder when you realize that you’re actually — at least, in my case — required to love multiple versions of yourself that show up without warning throughout a day, throughout a week, throughout a month, throughout a life."
"Yeah, but I will say that I think I’ve learned to mourn in a way that just isn’t rooted around sadness and/or longing for a return. And that feels better, because I think I’ve learned to mourn in a way that is celebratory, that is expressing gratitude for the real gift of carrying the memory of someone who is not here anymore — and not only carrying that memory, but carrying everything that person gave and carrying everything I learned from that person while they were still here."
(Hanif Abdurraqib)
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Bev, living in Nova Scotia for years now, is blogging again. She was one of my earliest blog friends. Take a look at her archives to see why I enjoyed her blog so much. Her blog had several lifetimes prior to the 2008 beginning of the lifetime of her current blog.
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Now for the reruns:
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3 comments:
“Though we have instructions and a map buried in our hearts when we enter this world, nothing quite prepares us for the abrupt shift to the breathing realm.” I love this.
I just love your art work.
Love seeing that river otter there. We haven't seen one in a while, but I'm always looking for them when we walk along the creeks here. Love seeing your art, am.
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