Jim Hodges
Study for Blue IV, 2009
I want to swim.
I want to feel the muscles in my arms cut through the blue, feel the sense of invincibility that oxygen feeds to hungry lungs, hear the splash of my legs in the water, and the cool kiss of the wetness wrapping around me.
(via jesuisperdu)
City aint so prestine. SF 2013.
Today my heart is achey.
It aches for lives I cannot live. For people loved and lost, and those tumbling out of my hands, like sand slipping through the cracks of my grasp, my heart, my life.
It aches for an undetermined future. For a past I miss. For a present I don’t understand.
And all I can tell myself, over and over, as each heavy drop rolls down the length of my cheek, is that this is temporary, that I will be home soon, and the future will unfold, and I will remember the feel of my own skin, and there will be love and laughter and the instinctive grasping of tiny hands around my weather-worn fingers.
(via sfcitylights)
Some people aren’t even worth the bruises and scrapes on my fist that it would take for me to sock them, squarely, in the jaw. Even when really, that’s what I am aching to do with every fiery fiber of myself. If only shrink rays were real and could be controlled remotely, by satellite. *flick* into the ocean with you, to be swallowed up by the cool dark depths, leaving this world to the rest of us who at the very least try.
(Source: garoto-que-te-conquista, via lvmrsmn)
(Source: mariannapaige, via greenvertigo)
"We cannot enjoy life if we spend our time and energy worrying about what happened yesterday and what will happen tomorrow. If we’re afraid all the time, we miss out on the wonderful fact that we’re alive and can be happy right now."
Thích Nhất Hạnh (via creatingaquietmind)
Sometimes I don’t even remember what I’m afraid of…and what the hell is the point in being afraid of something unknown? Unknown is just that, not known. It may be fear worthy. Or not. It may be inspiring. It may lift your soul above the clouds. It may warm you, from the inside out. It may be the best steak you’ve ever sunk your teeth into. The best chocolate cake that ever rolled past your lips and onto your tongue. Why on Earth, or in the stars above, would anyone want to fear delicious? Or even the possibility of delicious? And that is what I need to remember - not what I’m afraid of, but how to let go of that fear - for the possibility of delicious.
(Source: larmoyante, via hennnypotter)
Hiking to Fragrance Lake, Bellingham, WA
by Mary McDonald(Submitted by Mary)
My head has been filled with all kinds of sappy shmoopy lovey dovey thoughts recently. Groves of trees and riding horses and holding hands and beer and kisses and silly faces and tears and understanding and tender and strong and soft and kind.
(Source: treeporn, via kellycascarones)
Unfortunately, for a school centered around, and focused on, international health our administrators have consistently shown us that they are both outdated and clueless as to what that means. I have not yet found the words to describe how incredibly frustrating that is. Last year’s speaker was painful - and offensive - if I had to pick one word to describe him it would be patriarchal.
I probably wouldn’t have even gone, but I wanted to support my peers, who often make up for what those “in charge” obliviously lack - plus I was selected to be one of the speakers myself. I am a student and I will be the very first to admit that I still have SO MUCH to learn. About everything. But I couldn’t sit down and let a bunch of wrinkly old men ruin my education and so, rather than getting pointlessly angry, I decided a while ago that I would take it into my own hands. If they wouldn’t give me the guidance I was looking for, I would find it my own damn self. And thus I found myself standing nervously behind a podium looking out over a sea of students and administrators.
I gave a talk on refugee medicine specifically focusing on several case reports to highlight the neglected public health and humanitarian issue of tuberculosis in unrecognized refugee populations within the state of Israel.
The keynote speaker gave the speech equivalent to those vomit-inducing photos of big white hands holding little black babies.
but not this year!
I’m not speaking this year. Not because I don’t have anything to say; I have lots to say. But because it’s someone else’s turn and because this year there isn’t as big of a void that needs filling. This year we have a keynote speaker who embodies the title educator. Robert Huish is one of the most dynamic, inspiring, challenging, intelligent, thought provoking, lecturer’s I have ever met or heard and I could not be more excited that he’s flying back across the globe to visit us again this spring.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see someone much older than I am. But in a good way. Like a sneak peek into my future self. I like the woman I see in the mirror. I like the woman I am becoming. #words #gpoy #iamenough (at the looking glass)
(via dianairene)
I have so many things I want to say, to tell you, to share with you, to see and do with you. I just can’t wait to be next to you. To have your hand close enough that I might reach out and hold it; your ear close enough that I might whisper into it; your skin close enough that I might feel its warmth beneath my lips.
