All of these things are true… I had been in Jordan for several weeks and my love affair with Arabian sweets had reached a lofty peak. In fact, I would begin and end each day with a platter of pastries, smothered in honeys and syrups that would flood through heaps of pistachios on my plate. Then it happened… I…Continue reading “On Arabic Sweets and the Middle East: Kunafa – NICHOLAS ANDRIANI”
Monism is the view that attributes oneness or singleness (Greek:μόνος) to a concept (e.g., existence). Buddhism is beyond monism, dualism, pluralism etc. Those -istic teachings are like photos. Monism says that there is the best perspective (camera angle) to make a good photo of that particular thing. For example, a person should be photographed from theContinue reading “Buddhism = Monism, Dualism, or…? feat. Alex Zendo, Buddhist Teacher”
Practicing gratitude? Perserverence? Taking Responsibility? These are just a few of the tools for maintaining a strong mind. Check out my newest article for tips of fulfilling your goals. In other news, applying for scholarships and glaring starry eyed towards Naropa University.
“A line will take us hours maybe, Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought, Our stitching and unstitching have been naught. Better go down upon your marrow bones And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather— For to articulate sweet sounds together Is toContinue reading “That Settles it, “Writing is Hard.” -Yeats”
“The Dying of Baal,” A Poem by Helen Wing
“…Oh Syria! With the god of Storm
and Dew now thunder-mute
in Homs, Aleppo, Damascus and Palmyra… “
On the art of journaling, note taking, and recording the world around you. These are my favorite notebooks for daily musings and painting.
I will be confident — not sad sap, sipping quietly in corner bar.
I will be, act, speak with intention.
I will be finished, will shop my novel.
Bohemian nights in Valencia where the gypsies shred violins into the coming dark
“Rhythmic swells reverberate trough my lungs. The back streets of Valencia.
Back street Europe.
Romani enclaves and gypsy parts of town.
We’ll sit here in the Plaça de la Virgen with our stiff sangria, smartly bashful in red-faced delerium.
For it is Spring and the blossoms have begun to sing.
A nod to blanco nerium”
A poem to the City of Oranges. An Open Love Letter to the City of Valencia, Spain.
I’m afraid of you Standing too close We’ll fall into eternity
“I’m now making myself as scummy as I can. Why? I want to be a poet, and I’m working at turning myself into a seer. You won’t understand any of this, and I’m almost incapable of explaining it to you. The idea is to reach the unknown by the derangement of all the senses. ItContinue reading “Rimbaud On Sacrifice and Art”