When darkness falls, the scent of wood
Is strong. The deer has shed its antlers.

Noelle Kocot (via spiritandteeth)

(via indigenousdialogues)

Cult of Artemis ›


 

Come away, you who are obsessed with your own importance in the scheme of things, and have got nothing you did not sweat for, come away by the brown valleys and full-bosomed hills to the even-breathings days, to the kindliness, earthiness, ease of El Pueblo de Las Uvas.

Mary Austin, from The Land of Little Rain.

How monotonous our speaking becomes when we speak only to ourselves! And how insulting to the other beings – to foraging black bears and twisted old cypresses – that no longer sense us talking to them, but only about them, as though they were not present in our world…Small wonder that rivers and forests no longer compel our focus or our fierce devotion. For we walk about such entities only behind their backs, as though they were not participant in our lives. Yet if we no longer call out to the moon slipping between the clouds, or whisper to the spider setting the silken struts of her web, well, then the numerous powers of this world will no longer address us – and if they still try, we will not likely hear them.

David Abram, from Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology.

(via wheredoesthehoneyflow)

You must not fear, hold back, count or be a miser with your thoughts and feelings. It is also true that creation comes from an overflow, so you have to learn to intake, to imbibe, to nourish yourself and not be afraid of fullness. The fullness is like a tidal wave which then carries you, sweeps you into experience and into writing. Permit yourself to flow and overflow, allow for the rise in temperature, all the expansions and intensifications. Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terrors, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.

 Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 4: 1944-1947.

(via goetia)