The figure on the Nine of Wands has definitely been through tough times.
This fighter has seen some battles. He’s hurt, but he’s not down.
When we have had a bad experience, we feel weary and battle-scarred.
Even if we aren’t hurt physically, our psyches are wounded.
Our openness, innocence and trust are gone, replaced by wary defensiveness.

The Nine of Wands can be a warning that you must proceed carefully.
Keep a watchful eye because there is the possibility that you will be hurt.
If you have already been burned, you know what this man is feeling.
Life’s lessons can be hard sometimes, especially when hopes have been dashed.
It is natural to feel defensive at such times, but try to avoid becoming bitter.
Your experience has wounded you, but it has strengthened you as well.

Strength is the other aspect of the Nine of Wands. This fighter is tough!
He has the physical stamina and the inner drive to persist despite all setbacks.
This card tells you to keep going no matter what.
Even if everyone and everything seems to be against you right now,
don’t give up. Within you are the hidden reserves you need to prevail.

If you added the words “Sad But True” at the end of any sentence u say..
sadly it will fit well..Sad but True

i believe happiness is a state of mind..which i’ll never reach..
thats why i dont even believe in happiness..
+ happiness the way u mentioned it..is way too selfish for me to try..
its not about the blessing I have..
and its not about ME being happy or smiling or not..
its more about how can i be happy while there r too many sad people around..
how can i smile while too many people are sad..
my sadness is not only personal..thats why everything makes me sad..
and even people who think that way..that as long as I can be happy or smile..
then its fine..
makes me sad..

Too much thinking… can kill you…

Everybody wants to be naked and famous!

sadly people likes to go check naked girls photos online..but in a dark room or when there family or parents leave the house..  and if someone asked’em if they do or not..they will deny it and might also get mad and say “asta3′far allah”..so for them..to see that..without that settings its scary..and to prove more TO PEOPLE that he or she dont check things like this..so they have to write comments like these to prove at they have never ever did this b4..which i find very sad indeed and thats why when they saw the link..with that name..they didnt just wrote something about it..no the entered the website and they r still checking it out till now..thats why the views scroll thing is moving like every second..which proves all these 1000′s of people..all check nudes anyways..and wanna prove to others that they dont

and on the other hand..if u wanna be free..be free..get naked..do whatever u want but u dont have to have others approval for that..u should get free for urself not for people.. and doing it and spreading it..means nothing but too much care about others and what others think..while supposedly ur wanna be free and get rid of THESE people..which u just sent ur photo to them..so its pointless..it killed the concept..Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery..

None but ourselves can free our minds.

I wanted to prove that people make a certain meaning out of everything and lots of things don’t have an actual meaning in the first place. It’s the same thing with colors, Black is a sad color, Red is the color of love and blood at the same time, and how does that work? What I tried to do is to make something that has no meaning between everything that has a meaning. People could create a meaning out of a blank paper.

I’m not literally living in Egypt, I live in my room most of the time.
It’s difficult for me to mingle with people; things became very sad out there.
I deal with people only when I must.

I’ll kill it and paint blood all over the Sad Panda paintings.
There is a really funny story, when I once told a journalist about this.
She told me that it won’t be a good idea to kill it
as artists like me are changing the history of the art scene in Egypt.
If painting a panda on the walls of Egypt will change the history of art
that would be very sad.

All art and quotes courtesy of the Sad Panda on Facebook

Abdullahi Ahmadu was 15 years old when he joined his father’s business in the small town of Malumfashi in Katsina State, Nigeria. This meant that he had to acquire his own hyena, as his family made their living as entertainers accompanied by hyenas, snakes and monkeys, in addition to selling the fetishes and herbal medicines that are popular in Nigeria.

Abdullahi’s grandfather, Nalado Ahmadu, taught him how to catch and control the animals, and introduced him to the charms that help subdue the creatures and protect their captors from harm.

Today Abdullahi is an experienced animal handler in his early thirties, who travels across Nigeria as part of a troupe of entertainers including his younger brother, Yahaya, and other members of his extended family. Together they work with three hyenas, two rock pythons and four baboons. According to Abdullahi, this is a tradition exclusive to his family, and only they are taught the secrets of how to trap and take care of the creatures.

The first time I met up with the hyena men, as they have become known, the group was staying in a ramshackle three-bedroom apartment in Dei Dei Junction, a suburb of the Nigerian capital, Abuja. The animals were housed in specially constructed boxes. Every member of the party had sores and scars on their faces, legs and hands – legacies of times when the animals suddenly turned hostile and pounced on their handlers with their teeth and claws.

‘We use a heavy stick to hit the hyenas on the head when they misbehave,’ Abdullahi said. ‘We knock them down on the ground. All of us hold the sticks in case the animals become aggressive.’

However, Abdullahi’s daughter, six-year-old ‘Mummy’, played with the animals with no sign of fear. She even rode a hyena as if it were a miniature, slope-shouldered pony. ‘She cannot be harmed,’ said Abdullahi. ‘It’s the same thing with the snakes and monkeys. She has taken a potion of traditional herbs and has been bathed with it. So her safety from the animals is guaranteed for the rest of her life.’

The animal handlers make use of herbs, concoctions, powders, amulets and esoteric incantations to catch and train their captives, protect themselves against harm and build up their own confidence. Amulets are also placed into ‘akayau’, metal rings tied around the men’s ankles, to enhance their dancing skills. The handlers believe that humans are capable of transforming themselves into animals such as hyenas, hence the need for powerful voodoo charms and incantations as protection.

When setting out on an expedition to capture a hyena, Abdullahi and his partners drink a protective potion and also bathe themselves with it. They travel to the caves and forests of northern Nigeria accompanied by hunting dogs which assist in sniffing out the animals. The young men use a powerful torch to light their way through the darkness, believing that the potion they drank has made them invisible to the animal. At the entrance to the animal’s lair, they chant incantations and blow clouds of white powder, a traditional African tranquiliser, at its face, rendering it senseless and easy to subdue. Sometimes, the powerful light from the hyena’s eyes might damage the bulb of the torch, but the men eventually have their way.

‘After bringing the animal out of the cave,’ said one of the handlers, ‘it will fight, since it’s not familiar with humans. A traditional medicine is administered to its body so it automatically becomes obedient to us. It begins to obey all our commands.’

The animal is subjected to one or two months of training. It must learn to live alongside other animals and humans, and to engage in different kinds of play without becoming violent. In return, the handlers feed the hyenas with scraps purchased from abattoirs (a goat every three days or so helps prevent the animals becoming aggressive). Maintaining good relations with the animals, said Abdullahi, requires both skill and tact.

‘They’re alert and the slightest sound keeps them awake,’ he said. ‘They hate hot environments so they’re kept in a cool place. When necessary, cold water is sprinkled on their bodies to comfort them. They’re very sensitive creatures.’

Galadima Ahmadu, who controls a hyena named Jamis, explained that the handlers wear ‘bante’ dress and charms. ‘If we give onlookers the charms, they can play with the animals as well and they won’t be harmed,’ he said. The concoctions sold to the public are meant to protect against snake, hyena or monkey bites, while the charms and amulets shield people from the antics of witches and wizards, which many Nigerians believe are responsible for their misfortunes.

The animals are good business. The family has sold traditional potions and charms for many years, but trade increased dramatically after the acquisition of the hyenas and other creatures. ‘We parade the animals on the streets,’ said Mallam Mantari, the owner of a 13-year-old hyena named Mainasara. ‘They can be very funny and the public showers them with money.’

As unemployment and poverty continue to bite in Nigeria, youths in particular must devise inventive ways of making money for survival. ‘I’ve been in this business since childhood,’ said Abdullahi Mohammed, a quiet young man who is responsible for a baboon called Frayo. ‘This animal has helped us. The money we make gives us food every day. This runs into a few thousand naira.’

I travelled with the group from Ogere-Remo to Bar Beach at Victoria Island in Lagos, and watched as scores of fascinated people were entranced by the spectacle of the hyenas, monkeys and snakes being paraded through the streets. Commercial buses and private cars stop, causing a traffic jam, while passengers gape at the animals as they perform their tricks. Within seconds people start to gather and a crowd forms, everyone staring in wonder.

Yahaya Ahmadu explained how they operate: ‘When we get to a place, we make the baboons do somersaults, jump on the back of motorcycles and shake people’s hands. Those watching are impressed with our animals. Before you know it, naira notes start to fly here and there. Some throw them at the baboons, others give directly. The baboons bring the money to us and we put it in the common till.’

Important members of the troupe include the drummers, Nura Garuba, Abdulkarim Lawal and Sanusi Ahmed. They follow the hyena men as they travel from city to city, beating the traditional Hausa drums that are the signal for the baboons to start dancing.

Others in the group are traditional healers. According to Yahaya, ‘They make herbs to take care of snake bites, scorpion stings and other animal problems. We also have herbs for spiritual problems, and illnesses such as typhoid fever, malaria and syphilis. When we get to a market, street junction or public place, people gather to watch us. We use the opportunity to sell these herbs to them.’

In addition to street shows, the animal handlers take part in film projects and make money from the sale of wild animals. ‘Any animal that people want, we can get for them,’ said Yahaya, who claims that they have supplied hyenas, pythons and other animals to zoos in Nigeria, Cameroon, Burkina Faso and Benin. ‘A mature hyena is sold for one hundred and fifty thousand naira, but a cub is more expensive at two hundred and fifty thousand naira. This is because a cub can be trained. An adult baboon goes for fifteen thousand naira, a young one for eight thousand. A python goes for eight to ten, depending on the size.’

The hyena men use the hunting dogs that accompany them to trap smaller animals for food. Konyami Murtala, who handles a baboon called Mora, said the dogs catch rabbits, grass cutters, antelopes and other small animals in the forests surrounding their camps. These animals are skinned and eaten or offered for sale.

People who benefit indirectly from the hyena men’s business include the bus drivers who transport the animals from town to town. According to Lekan Fabuyi, who plies the Ogere-Remo/Lagos route, the drivers charge higher than usual rates for carrying the wild animals, making the animal handlers their preferred customers.

Other beneficiaries are the provision store owners and food vendors who locate their small businesses at the outskirts of towns, where the hyena handlers usually set up their makeshift wooden huts amid abandoned houses, cluster of shacks and the inevitable cattle markets. Store-owner Biola Adekumi said: ‘When they’re around we sell more. Also, they give us fun, especially the younger ones. Their animals make us laugh and feel lively.’

Not everyone views the hyena men in such a favourable light. Although they have licenses to operate their business from a number of states in Nigeria, officials occasionally harass them and prevent them moving their animals about. One official commented: ‘These animals are wild. No matter how you handle them, an animal is always an animal. Tame an animal for ten years and one day it’ll behave like an animal. For instance, if a hyena breaks loose it can attack and kill people. I don’t think these people should be allowed to carry these animals about.’

The entertainers have also been accused by the Nigerian police of using the animals to threaten or intimidate members of the public into parting with money or possessions. In June 2004 a report in Lagos newspaper This Day claimed that an armed ‘gang who used a hyena and a monkey to rob their victims’ had a shootout with police. The paper reported that two gang members were killed and four arrested, while a policeman ended up in hospital after being bitten by a hyena. The hyena and a monkey were shot.

Abdullahi Ahmadu gives a different side of the story: ‘We refused to stop at a police checkpoint, so the police opened fire on us, killing two hyenas and two fellow policemen. To protect themselves, they fixed a charge of armed robbery on us. Thank God, the case has died a natural death.’

The bus driver, Lekan Fabuyi, defended the hyena men, saying: ‘They eat by taking these animals around. Stop them and they take to criminality. Those criticising cannot give them another job.’

Indeed, the troupe’s diverse activities generate enough money for their daily survival and to establish maize and yam farms. Abdullahi Mohammed, for example, owns a farm in Danja in Katsina State, and Yahaya said the group has plans to establish a cassava farm in Ogene-Ofada in Kogi State.

After three days of following the group, I was preparing to leave when the hyena men brought their menagerie of animals to the side of a road in Lagos. The drummers struck a beat and the baboons pranced about and jumped. Passing cars stopped and their passengers craned their necks through the windows and gaped. Motorbike riders parked at the fringe of a gathering crowd and stared in fascination. The handlers shouted at the baboons and they somersaulted and performed several acrobatic movements. Before long naira notes started being thrown at them. As one onlooker commented, ‘Though their way of making money is odd, these people are in real business.’

Text by Adetokunbo Abiola
All photographs by Pieter Hugo

Photograph by Alix Dejean

Word from Curtis Stephen is the first Alix Dejean show since the 1980s opens on Wednesday, February 1 at LIU’s Selena Gallery (BK) and features shots ofAretha Franklin, Muhammad Ali, Stokely Carmichael, Miles Davis, Fela Kuti, Phyllis Hyman, and Michael Jackson on stage with Gil Scott-Heron … amongst countless other treasures. The show is free and open to the public, running through February 29.

Here’s the word from the Niko Koppel for the New York Times back in 2008…

Toting a leather bag, in which he carries his 35-millimeter Nikon, Mr. Dejean wanders from block to block, ready to snap portraits during the day and pictures at parties and other celebrations at night. “I’m the people’s photographer,” he said.

Mr. Dejean often photographs people in parks, on brownstone stoops, hanging out at street corners and philosophizing in barbershops. A self-styled entrepreneur, he prints his pictures on glossy paper and offers to sell the images to his subjects for about $20 each. That price is negotiable, however.

The images taken by Mr. Dejean, who said he was influenced by the photographer Gordon Parks, are reminiscent of those of James Van Der Zee, who documented Harlem during its renaissance, and Jamel Shabazz, who recorded the early years of hip-hop culture. Although his works have never been publicly exhibited, they are prized by Harlem residents, tucked in family albums and in frames on apartment walls…

Check Out the Full Story Here

You thought you lost, cause you felt apart,
But now you really know that it is true: it never left you.

Follow the flow of awareness. Open yourself to the unknown.

The universe is a mirror of consciousness.
The events in your life reflect who you are.

Everything is possible. When you make choice, you change the future.

The measure of your enlightenment is the degree to which
you are comfortable with paradox, contradiction, and ambiguity.

Forgiveness of others comes only when you can let go of your own hurt.
The more complete the release, the more sincere the forgiveness.

When you are a child you play .. joyfully with everything, come what may.
No intention, no desire, beautiful energy, always on fire.
To live in this simplicity again.. will fulfill your every desire and intention.

An exceptional life is one that reaches for the highest possibilities.
The secret to this can be named in one word: Vision.

What makes you truly happy?

Quotes by Deepak Chopra
Photographs by Ryan McGinley

My Blackberry was on death row but I didn’t let that stop me. Though that little clock icon, I hate it. Tick tick tick like a time bomb. But I told myself, “This is a lesson in patience.” And also humility. Because all I was doing was taking notes, and really, that’s a little weird. To whip out my phone and write things down as though I were reporting on.. err… yeaa. But I am glad I did because otherwise alla it, I woulda have forgotten.

So here goes. Notes on San Francisco. Annotated, of course.

~ We’re driving through the park. I look up and we’re on Sunset Boulevard. Clearly we’re on the right path.

~ Behind the ropes at the Fraenkel Gallery with Darius Himes, thinking how incredibly chic it all is. And thinking of a story for La Lettre with the Director of Publications.

Ed Loftus, The Birds. This is for Cairo, reminding me of my least favorite Hitchcock film.

~ Jim tells me he always wanted a mistress so he could spoil her. I gotta tell you, he’d do a good job. It’s not just that he has great taste. It’s that he knows what a girl wants. Jewelry and perfume and photographs of herself. I literally wore out the Tiffany teardrops he gave me. They were simple. Nothing like the chandeliers and Christmas ornaments I usually rock. And don’t you know after our trip to the Piedmont, Jim topped himself off by pulling out a Gucci bag. Ain’t that some ish. Yea. Here’s where it’s hot. I’m cold, I’m rockin my Claw Money sweatshirt and the double Gs match the Claw perfectly. And it’s subtle enough to be understated, which is good cause all my accessories are magenta.

Spotted :: leopard print cow on Folsom hanging out lookinn like moo.

~ These people are cray. It’s raining. It’s 45 degrees. And they are swimming in the Bay. Running barefoot in the park. And me, I’ve got to stop making excuses for being lazy.

~ “San Francisco looks good in the rain. New York just looks dirty, like a homeless man getting hosed down.”

Charmaine Olivia at The Shooting Gallery. “This is a vampire show,” said the Lady of the Tenderloin as she scooted out of the room. Meanwhile I was looking at those keys thinking, Why do they keep showing up?

~ The Piedmont. Where do I start? The fan earrings. I never bought them before. I wasn’t ready. But I gave it a whirl. I went for magenta and black. But I couldn’t stop thinking about them. So I went back. For turquoise, silver, and lilac. And what do you know? They go perfectly with the flowers in my hair, and that’s a hard thing to match because… it’s starting to turn into a bouquet. A garden. Undoubtedly, I’m going to take it too far. Because I was thinking of birds for weeks, and then I get to the Piedmont and there they are. But not just birds. They also have bees. So now it’s flowers and birds and bees and me, going nowhere. I mean, maybe to the post office?

heaven. i'm in heaven.

~ A couple of things I have learned. San Francisco is the land of outdoor earrings. And weed smokers. And people off their meds. “I’m going to have to give you a ticket,” a woman told me on Haight Street. Yep.

~ At the end of Haight, an egret landed on the roof with a spectacular view of everyone cruising up and down the avenue. It gave us the side eye, taking in the scene, as though it could easily swoop down and steal a muffin right out of my hands. I’m looking at it until we walk into Amoeba, and then I am talking to myself, out loud I mean, saying, “What does it mean?”

“It’s art,” a guy says to another guy. But he just answered my question…

~ new books: Letters to a Young Novelist by Mario Vargas Llosa, Poems by Rumi, The Tao Stories of Chuang Tsu, The Words by Jean-Paul Sartre, The Man Who Was Thursday by GK Chesterton, and The Touchstone by Edith Wharton. Shout outs to Dog Eared Books, Green Apple Books, Kinokuniya, Park Life, Upper Playground, and of course, The Phoenix Hotel.

~ and then there was the lilac sky as we drove to the airport. San Francisco giving me my send off. Thank you for all that you are.

]]> http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/26/notes-on-san-francisco/feed/ 0 missrosen san_francisco Loftus_Untitled_Girl-on-Beach-with-Birds media_450668 img_1096_m I95TD00Z http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/26/is-that-four-or-five-claws-you-got-there/ http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/26/is-that-four-or-five-claws-you-got-there/#comments Thu, 26 Jan 2012 15:53:23 +0000 Miss Rosen http://missrosen.wordpress.com/?p=10693 ]]>

San Francisco is my Hamptons. It’s my weekend getaway. It’s my idea of the country, which goes to show, the New Yorker is an odd breed.

I hadn’t been to SF since 2007. I got caught up in other things. So caught up I couldn’t bring myself to get away from it all, if only for a few days. That’s the thing about vacation. I don’t do it. I’ve never known how to stop. And now that I have, I’m just confused. So I stick to what I know, my trips to SF. But the end of an era has come, and for having lived it, I give thanks.

I’m a tourist. Unabashedly. Take me to LA and I want to go to Hollywood. Take me to SF and somehow we end up at Fisherman’s Wharf. Sure, I’ll say we need to go to Ghiradelli’s, but that’s just a front. I want an Alcatraz t-shirt. I do! But they don’t have the one I want.

Somehow, I am stuck to the idea that things don’t change, well, things change but merchandise remains the same. That the awesome t-shirt I found in 1995 will still be on sale. But stranger things have happened. So it’s worth the shot. Besides, Jim Jocoy and I have it down to an art.

We hit Amoeba and scored some CDs. Because the weather was gruesome so we did a lot of cruising on heated car seats. Listening to Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man, Curtis Mayfield’s Shaft, Bobby Womack’s Across 110 Street, and James Brown’s Black Caesar. And don’t you know the soundtracks scored—and underscored—everything about the trip? It seemed like wherever we were, the soundtrack set the mood perfectly, until even the traffic on the way to the airport was a moody, brooding, powerful—yet peaceful—experience.

I’d like to say I went to SF for New Year’s but I didn’t plan it like that. It just so happened that New Year’s was on Monday and I could enjoy that. Being in SF, I had distance from my life. It’s also that Jim and I have spent a decade doing trip in SF, and I could see how much life has changed from when we first began to where we’ve come. And somehow that was possible by visiting my old haunts and seeing them with fresh eyes.

And that travel though time also applies to my travels through space, and by looking at my life from three thousand miles away, I was given the gift of clarity and of the courage to be honest with myself. And I wrote in my journal exactly what I wanted. And it was strange, to speak from my heart. Because there were no strings, no expectations, no ulterior motives. Nothing but love and respect and trust.

So yeaa, I went to SF to get away, only to find myself. It’s the year of the Black Water Dragon, and that is a blessed thing. Dragons are power, strength, and good fortune. And though they are considered to be mythological beings, I believe they are real. Not real in the sense that we’re going to go find one and bring it back to a lab and cut it open and study it and classify it and say this is proof of truth. I don’t need that kind of empirical data to know what is in my heart.

Dragons are real. Jim is a dragon. And he didn’t even know. Or he forgot. Because things like this matter, and they don’t. But once I saw that, I realized exactly what it was.

To live a charmed life is a choice. It is a commitment to good vibes, a free heart, and an open mind. It is loving what you are given—for better or for worse. It is making the most of your talents, your experiences, and your circumstances—without compromising your integrity. It is having the strength of character to say I was wrong, and to right yourself without further adieu. It is grieving the loss then letting go. And into that void comes something so much greater, so exactly what you want and need and never knew. Because the Universe knows your heart and the only one holding you back is you.

Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself
that you have built against it.

You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?

The wound is the place where the Light enters you.

Sit, be still, and listen,
because you’re drunk
and we’re at
the edge of the roof.

We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust.

Silence is the language of God,
all else is poor translation.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.

Be like the sun for grace and mercy.
Be like the night to cover others’ faults.
Be like running water for generosity.
Be like death for rage and anger.
Be like the Earth for modesty.
Appear as you are.
Be as you appear.

Take someone who doesn’t keep score,
who’s not looking to be richer, or afraid of losing,
who has not the slightest interest even
in his own personality: he’s free.

Is it really so that the one I love is everywhere?

Remember.
The way you make love is the way God will be with you.

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

~*~

All quotes by Rumi
All photographs by Robert Doisneau

Perhaps there is nothing so romantic as abandoned buildings, ruins and relics, remnants of what was and what could have never been. Empty, neglected buildings are the things that invite our imaginations for a visit. It shouldn’t be surprising when you consider that the building is a symbol of the self. Our homes, our towns, our legacies, buildings are tall and proud monuments. Crowns.

I’ve always said if you want to do leave a mark, create a building, or a book. And sometimes the boundaries between those subjects blur. So much so that a book becomes the place where we consider what was and what remains…

Read the Full Story Here

Fallen Empires by Shai Kremer (Radius Books)

285 Broken Dreams by Chris Enos (Museum of New Mexico Press)

Fallen Empires by Shai Kremer (Radius Books)

285 Broken Dreams by Chris Enos (Museum of New Mexico Press)

]]> http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/20/fallen-empires-broken-dreams/feed/ 0 missrosen Screen shot 2012-01-20 at 8.26.10 AM med_shai-kremer-fallen-empires-14-jpg med_page_17-jpg med_shai-kremer-fallen-empires-03-jpg med_page_48-jpg http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/19/miss-fitts/ http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2012/01/19/miss-fitts/#comments Thu, 19 Jan 2012 20:24:47 +0000 Miss Rosen http://missrosen.wordpress.com/?p=10651 ]]>

Illustration by Liz Fitts

Miss Fitts and I have returned to our conversations of psychology, psychiatry, and psycho-pharmecology. She knows more than most, having chosen to educate herself rather than live as a guinea pig. It is when we speak that the doors of perception open and connections appear. But it is her ideas, her insights, her wisdom that guides me there.

I told Miss Fitts that my goal for 2012 is to find true love. That is to say, to find love for myself, the world, and all the challenges life puts before us. Because the other option is to suffer or to be numb. I have done those both and they are no longer what I want for myself.

In response, Miss Fitts sent me this graphic that I find haunting in its simplicity. Knowing what Miss Fitts has lived in order to come to this understanding… Knowing my own path and having traversed it without realizing… So often we live deaf, dumb, and blind to the energies that set us forth without understanding how or why or what it is that compels us to do so.

It’s all a circle, life that is. It moves in cycles. It spins. It turns. Over and over again. I’d like to think it is a spiral. That we might move up or down. But that could also be an illusion. Time keeps on slippin, like The Steve Miller Band…