A selection of sunbeams from the SUN Magazine March 2014

"This is the kind of paradox, I think, of what it is to be a halfway intelligent American right now:... there are things we know are right, and good, and would be better for us to do, but constantly it's like "Yeah, but, you know...," and "Who cares?" and "It's all bullshit anyway." 

David Foster Wallace

"The trouble about man is twofold. He cannot learn truths which are too complicated; he forgets truths which are too simple." 

Rebecca West 

"You must begin by assuming responsibility. And you alone are responsible for every moment of your life, for every one of your acts."

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

"All over the place, from the popular culture to the propaganda system, there is constant pressure to make people feel that they are helpless, that the only role they can have is to ratify des visions and to consume." 

Noam Chomsky

"Revolution does not begin with a group. It begins from the heart."

Shahla Khan 

"Just as the water of the streams we see is small in amount compared to that which flows underground, so the idealism which becomes visible is small in amount compared with what men and women bear locked in their hearts.... To unbind what is bound, to bring the underground waters to the surface: mankind is waiting and longing for such as can do that."

Albert Schweitzer 

"If we should be so lucky as to touch the lives of many, so be it. But if our lot is no more than the setting of a table, or the tending of a garden, or showing a child a path in a wood, out lives are no less worthy." 

Kent Nerburn  

Introspective Observation: buds on dead growth

It is strange to know that we're having fifty, almost sixty degree days in February. This month started out new-born in a blanket of white, but yesterday we played kickball with some friends at the old stone church, and I didn't need an actual coat until about 9:30 or 10:00 at night. I've heard tell that the cherry blossoms are blooming in Japan, and my dad's cousin's wife's flowers are already coming up in her yard up North. 

We've been about two months ahead of ourselves all year, in previous years too. Remember that June we had multiple wild fires all over my state? Utaha two months ahead and all that. Photographs of haunting sunsets and towering columns of grey smoke, white clouds of smoke boiling over our Eastern mountains. That Summer felt ominous and apocalyptic. But here we are now, roughly two years later, experiencing an early spring that feels like late fall in the winter. It's certainly something to think about, dear. 

The changes this world is going through --ecologically, politically and socially-- should be interesting to observe, and perhaps, to participate in. There's a lot of hope and beauty amongst the pain and corruption, growing in spite of or because of the things that seem so terribly wrong. 

Voice

Man, nothing will come to me today. Can't seem to write anything well, neither poetry, essay, nor stream-of-consciousness. Nothing will really fit together, and I'm dissatisfied with all of my drafts and writing ideas at the moment. I want to write, but it doesn't come out very well, I'm still not complete or clear, I've got shallow-digging dis-ease (as our friend G would call it) and ADD in some form today. Don't know what to do, and what I want to do, I think I should do something else instead. At least I finally practiced guitar today -I want to learn; I want to learn how play guitar, drive, write, be with people, and just generally apply myself. I can be fierce and focussed, but I guess I don't fixate much. --Even that isn't true though, I like to think I'm not obsessive, but when I really look into and at myself, I am totally obsessed. I am so so so redundant, but, balance. It's hard to talk of balance, though, it's so easy to fall into duality and polar opposites and untruths. Juggling differently colored balls from hand to hand and back again. Why keep them moving though? Can't they just be? I'd like to think they're not even separate; the yin and yang symbol, though overused, is beautifully fitting; two things as inseparable, interconnected one. -That's pretty cool, and in some ways it simplifies things, and in others, complicates. But you know, this world is more than one dimension, and to look at any one thing differently, the whole web shifts. Nothing is just surface, or just depth; no one is only one thing. I dislike referring to people as occupations because it seems to dehumanize them. I'm not even a "writer", I'm Amoniel, but that doesn't quite cover it either, I'm this thing that takes form around, I'm this that changes shape constantly, that never fits into the world the same way for longer than right now. Yes, I fall into shallow-digging dis-ease every once in a while, but even that is not how I work always. --I want to dive deep deep into the world, life, the universe, -it sounds silly, and I don't always want that, but -everything. I love stained fingers and dirt and all of the marks life and time leaves on us, scars are beautiful; wrinkles, freckles, and moles, absolutely lovely. I love to get paint on my hands and graphite all over my fingertips and face. I love calluses and rough hands, tough feet. I don't want to be perfect, I want to be alive. I am life's canvas, my own canvas, the canvas and paper of others, mirror and imprint. When I get firewood with my family, I like to see the scratches on my arms from the hard work of loading and carrying and unloading, and I like to watch all of the marks fade away. All of these things that fix and flow us in time, now then tomorrow. I want to dig deep into my own soul and examine it intently, and I want to do the same with others. I'm looking looking finding the thread that ties and unwinds all things. Maybe it has a name, maybe it doesn't, but I seem to be able to find and talk with and about it just fine without a name, and even with an imperfect name. The imperfect name reminds me that it won't fit forever, I think; that I know it all and I know nothing, and everything fits perfectly. 

I said I couldn't write today, but perhaps I was trying too hard. And now I have found my flow, my track; my voice. 

The Idols of Environmentalism | Curtis White | Orion Magazine

The Idols of Environmentalism | Curtis White | Orion Magazine

Finally finished this article today, my mom emailed it to me a month ago, and I did start it, I just never felt like I had the time to finish it, beh.

Anyway, it's pretty good, it mentions a lot of the same beliefs as me and my family, and it gave me a lot to think about, mainly on the subject of my garden and how I'm going to share vegetables with my community as I first intended.
I started the whole thing with the intention of selling vegetables at our community farmer's market, but it is in great disorganization, and the person who is currently in charge is, I have heard, running out of steam.
My mom and I have spoken with some friends about their possibly heading up a new farmer's market on some land they own out of town, but I don't know how well that will go; they're pretty busy as it is, and I haven't heard anything more from them about it.

I have a neighbor who is interested in buying vegetables from me, but I have no idea how much I want to charge or how I should arrange it. I went to her house with some swiss chard from both my and my mom's garden and some turnip greens (she said she'd try them out) this afternoon, but she wasn't home, so I took the bag of vegetables to our neighbors the next block over and gave it to them.
The thing is, I don't know if I want to charge money. I don't feel good about that, and my garden is kind of an experiment in how I fit into this world and nature, as well as me figuring out how I could possibly support myself. But I don't like money, and I'm earning a lot as it is, so maybe this will be a community experiment in kindness and selflessness, because I would rather give away my heart's work in kindness and friendship rather than for personal gain.