“If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés
“When you’re listening to club music, there’s no reward,” she said. “The reward isn’t, ‘Oh, here’s the chorus, here’s the lyric that makes sense.’ You have to enjoy what it is. You have to enjoy that there’s no conclusion.”
“Club music taught me so much about myself,” she added. “Having patience, or appreciating a different type of way of taking in life. That to me is like, what ‘Off the Wall’ is. Or ‘I Feel Love’ or ‘Rock Your Baby’ with George McCrae.” (She later added Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill” to the list.) “It’s a hypnotic thing. Time stops, and I don’t even think about where I am when I hear music like that. That’s the high that I want,” she said, and laughed heartily. “That’s what I need.”
“Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin
Ever since I found out that earthworms have taste buds all over the delicate pink strings of their bodies, I pause dropping apple peels into the compost bin, imagine the dark, writhing ecstasy, the sweetness of apples permeating their pores. I offer beets and parsley, avocado, and melon, the feathery tops of carrots.
I’d always thought theirs a menial life, eyeless and hidden, almost vulgar—though now, it seems, they bear a pleasure so sublime, so decadent, I want to contribute however I can, forgetting, a moment, my place on the menu.
∆ Feeding the Worms by Danusha Laméris
...learning to read and write thoroughly disabled the oral poet, ruining his capacity for oral improvisation