The Mesa wind blows soft tonight,
The western stars bend low,
Self-shadowed in the firelight
Old dreams, old visions go.
The mesa wind's a soft caress,
Cool fingers in my hair;
Soft whispers out of lonliness
That breath a lonely prayer...
O mesa wind go far to her
With kisses carried high,
And tell her mountain grasses stir
And 'wait her passing by;
Go tell her that the mesa trail
Lies yellow in the sun,
And clouds, like dreams, ride white and frail—
Lost longings, one by one.
by Arthur Owen Peterson
Eu sou uma leitora… apaixonada por livros, que leva livros na mochila e ao se deparar com outro leitor, se comporta feito um cão, virando a cabeça de um lado para o outro até conseguir identificar título e nome do autor. Isso resultou em alguns momentos divertidos e inusitados.
O hábito da leitura me fez desenvolver algumas manias literárias — que virou tema do projeto fotográfico 6 on 6 de…
Yes, Greece still exists, we didn't all die 2000 years ago. Yes, people speak Greek. You people are so fucking stupid for real. So many of you claim to love ancient shit but can't even acknowledge the actual living culture of the people whose mythology and classics you romanticize. You keep leaving annoying comments about how you just forget Greek people still exist, thinking you're being quirky because you love ancient stuff soooo much that you forgot about the people it came from. You think about it so little you don't even realize that an actual Greek person has to read this shit, making it clear how little you actually care about the culture beyond the romanticized (and westernized) mythology. Don't claim you love Greece, don't use our mythology anymore if you can't acknowledge that we're still around without making it about how little you think about us. It's mind boggling that you'd think a Greek person would read this and think you're anything but obnoxious. Explode.
Passei a última hora a pensar no tema desse mês de Agosto. Mesa é um objeto curioso. Lembro-me da textura da mesa quadrada da cozinha da casa do nonno. Dos grãos espalhados e dos dedos tortos da menina-ajudante da nonna a remover imperfeições do milho, do feijão e do arroz. Outra mesa com textura nas minhas digitais é a da varanda — enorme e pesada, feita para uma aconchegar a família inteira,…