It feels of a piece to me now.
Still lots of flashbacks and more resting between jaunts of painting today. Also last day to sunbathe. Alas. It was fun listening to the IPod while watching folks play. Iron and Wine shuffle.
We are watching bits as we are able to absorb the amazing reality, sometimes overwhelming, of Ken Burns’ National Park documentary, over the next six weeks, through Netflix. I’m just flabergasted and in awe. I can hardly express myself, on the level of when I first read Thoreau, Emerson and later John Muir in college.
About the latter, I had a book I bought myself of John Muir’s that I gave away to my first boyfriend in college. I could hardly read it without crying, as it was, I would get so overwhelmed imagining what he was seeing and feeling and reading what he was thinking. Yet, being in a time where the world was so endangered. Strip malls, rainforest deforestation, desertification, overpopulation, and the like. I could go on in the 1980s ahem.
So there was this huge section in the Burns documentary yesterday and the day before about John Muir and it was just refreshing to my very soul.
Thank you, Mr. Burns.
And Mr. Muir.
See we were talking the other day, Sunday, yesterday, about all these musical references in composition that we recognize in say a former Ska musician’s major 40-piece band performance and that who all else recognizes these things growing up nowadays and who is teaching that in schools and Lord Buddha I hope they are!
Which is another thing. Who said some particular one school board anywhere in the US got the permanent contract to write ALL the history school books — where does it say that where ?? do you know what I’m saying there?
school lunches oughta be farm to table, and they ought to be able to be part of the community farm experience as an afternoon youth activity (old strip malls could be converted into farmland for this)
time to rest me 🙂