Playing with quotes

Recently I’ve been taking pictures (either my own or ones available on the internet) and putting quotes that I find meaningful to the pictures. Seems to have become a favorite pastime. Odd I know.  The not so good artist in me finds immense satisfaction in finding the best background and font to bring the words to life.

I of course cite the author of the words and leave any photographer’s marks on the photos if possible. The quotes and sayings are pretty easy to ensure that I have cited the correct person, the photos much harder since they are usually random flicker and Google posts.

I love shots of our natural world and words that have depth to them. Like this one below that I put together, not only is the photo beautiful but the author has brought light upon where our connection with a higher power is but also the inspiration of architects which I find a very intriguing idea.

Ah Socrates, who doesn’t love his quotes! And I do live by this idea of wisdom.

I couldn’t agree more with this saying. When I find myself about to crumble it’s usually a random seemingly harmless detail that my mind is focused on. Not the entire nightmare, just the clock ticking on the wall.

I love this Author’s quote. I really enjoyed her series, but this line has stayed with me. It is the idea that this is true that lets me think that maybe it’s possible that people like me are not lost causes.

 

Since most of us are visual creatures it only makes sense to have a great picture to help the message of the words come through. For better or worse I choose the pictures above to fit with the chosen sayings and quotes. Let me know if you think they flow! Joannie

Some quotes to reflect where my mind wanders

With the way things seem to go, I often find myself thinking that this is true. I’ve so many people that have told me that I have a ‘spark’. A light. A force that captures their interest. But a small part of me wonders if that same spark is what attracts some of the darkest people as well…

I apologize a lot. This is one of my better reasons for doing so!

For all the people that I have a hard time talking to.. I just can’t seem to explain my words and they can’t hear my silence 😦

Need I say more?

I love Ayn Rand. She wrote amazing books back when Women did not write about important topics like politics, war and mankind. She was published as a male author and the public didn’t know the truth of who she was until her 3rd or 4th book had become very popular.

I found this picture and thought that put with Emerson’s famous quote it would be great. I was right.

And when one can’t find that happiness, cannot find someone who can hear the silence, loses her sight of her spark and just keeps failing faster then she can get up…bring out the wine. And when in doubt, send it too.

~J

Being a Redhead

Being a natural redhead complete with freckles seems to be a large part of how people perceive me. With all the stereotypes running amok, I can honestly say this is one I don’t really mind (except the dumb hick idea that I must be a witch..). I think being a redhead suits me and can make my personality easier to understand for fellow outsiders.

I put together some picture quotes (photos and art I took from the internet along with redhead quotes and sayings, I tried to give credit for the texts) for fun.

While it’s true that most of a redhead’s persona is much deeper than hair, there are some real biological differences between redhead and “normal” hair colors due to the DNA mutation of the hair color gene.

A widely known theory is becoming fact for many gingers!

A growing body of research shows that people with red hair need larger doses of anesthesia and often are resistant to local pain blockers like Novocaine. As a result, redheads tend to be particularly nervous about dental procedures and are twice as likely to avoid going to the dentist as people with other hair colors, according to new research published in The Journal of the American Dental Association.

and to top it off… We’re naturally more sensitive to pain!

Researchers believe redheads are more sensitive to pain because of a mutation in a gene that affects hair color. In people with brown, black and blond hair, the gene, for the melanocortin-1 receptor, produces melanin. But a mutation in the MC1R gene results in the production of a substance called pheomelanin that results in red hair and fair skin.

The MC1R gene belongs to a family of receptors that include pain receptors in the brain, and as a result, a mutation in the gene appears to influence the body’s sensitivity to pain. A 2004 study showed that redheads require, on average, about 20 percent more general anesthesia than people with dark hair or blond coloring. And in 2005, researchers found that redheads are more resistant to the effects of local anesthesia, such as the numbing drugs used by dentists.

Taken from http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/06/the-pain-of-being-a-redhead/

Okay! Enough with the genetics! On to more interesting things and pictures.

I cannot tell you how many times people crack jokes and pick up lines about the nature of my hair color and how they “better watch out”. It’s amusing and slightly immature but it also just gives me all the more reason to slap someone running their mouth! Can’t help myself right???

 

Redheads are supposed to be both passionate and intelligent, loving and evil tempered and  above all – untouchable. So I guess that makes me superior.

 

I’ve often been called graceful and very “faery” like. Whether it’s because I’m small and dance or because I have red hair I don’t know but it works for me!

 

 

 

 

I wish I had a dollar for every person (man and woman) that has very emphatically told me how unique and different I am, how they have never met anyone like me. So I guess this saying is true at least!

 

OOPS Totally been called a man eater…

I have to agree here (at least for me). Try to take away my freedom and put me in a box and you’ve never seen someone fight in so many ways to get away!

 

Indeed! I’ve been known to get up to no good as this faery of Amy Brown’s depicts.

P.S I love fire. Making it, cooking on it, sitting next to it with a cold beer, staring into the coals for hours is my idea of meditation.

More Quotes!

 

Writing has been a constant outlet for me. I briefly stopped writing altogether after the police took my computer away for over a year and spread my words that had been meant for my eyes only to whomever they wanted. After that I couldn’t write for close to two years. For a girl who could fill up a math note-book with short stories, poems, quotes and randomness of words not writing a sentence was torture. Once it was “safe” to write things down again (I’d stopped being considered a suspect) the horror of what it was like for people to steal my words and use them against me remained and it was a fight of wills to put my thoughts on paper. That is how this blog got started, a way to get me to write again. I love this quote, I think it defines what it is to be a writer.


“The Raven”

By Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favorite poems!

  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore –
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door –
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; –
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!” –
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; –
‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door –
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered not a feather then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never – nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore:
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! –
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting –
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

Some people indeed do walk into our lives, and some even if we never see them again, we never forget. Mom has this quote on pretty art work around the house. While simple, it reminds me of a time when the saddest thing was a friend moving away and not life as it is now.

I can’t but help think this must be true. And to the degree of “hold” together I hope no one ever knows just how bad things can be only to watch your life slide downward every day after and to silently prevail when the whole world is in chaos as it continues to slide further in state I can only describe as Hell. A Hell that lives in our minds and the minds around us.

This is how I make peace with the constant change of faces (furry & human). If our love for one another is real we will meet again. If not, then there wasn’t ever really anything to build upon to begin with.

With family issues and relationship issues this rings truer than true if that makes sense.

 

FINALLY it all makes sense now! All my bad grammar, typos and what not is just Coyote letting me know he approves of my writing! (For those who are slightly confused.. Coyote is consider the Trickster God among many, MANY Native American myths & Religions). And for those who are wondering why I might actually be happy with the God of change and tricks smiling at me, The outdoor survival camp I attended and worked at was fondly called “Coyote Tracks” even though the program itself is call ‘Children of the Earth Foundation’ or just “COTEF”. “Coyote Teaching” is the method we employed most to get the kids interested in the skills. Coyote has a special meaning to most COTEF and Tracker students.

Quotes & sayings I like enough to share

I’ve always loved Butterflies, not because they are pretty and girly and seem to be “in” right now ~ I’ve always secretly liked them! Also, in the Celtic zodiac my power animal is the Butterfly. So I get more than one meaning with some of these quotes about butterflies ♥

Another butterfly reference and beautifully done!

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 
For everyone that I love and care for, blood relation or no, this sums up my love for all those who have captured it and the means I am more than willing to go for all of you.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anything with a compelling picture and simple wisdom of compassion and reality, I love! To many of the “dreamers,” as the artists, writers and teachers of the world are called, along with those who dare to dream big in the first place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
So many people ask the meaning of life, search for it, ponder it and seek out possible answers; this is the most simple and to-the-point that you can get in my opinion!

 

 

 

 

I think this is pretty self explanatory:

 

 

A great Irish quote:

 

 

Courage and Freedom go hand in hand.

A Quote

I came across this quote the other day. I thought at first was just another silly touchy feely quote going around but upon thinking about I was wrong. It was something that Mom would have said. It was something like some most respected people in my life have said. So I paid attention.

Then I decided the Facebook page made for Mom needed something like this on it, so I posted the quote and then added  my own take on it. ~ “Mom said things like this; I think many of us can be the persons she believed possible and make the world to be a better place if we can move ourselves from the depths of our own suffering to help others and keep open the possibility for change even in the darkest of times, to not let our own despair dampen what joy we do have and to find the sacred act of living in every moment of everyday to the fullest.”

I posted it on my own page on Facebook  and rather quickly people were telling me how beautiful I was which I believe nothing of the like. Then a friend texted me saying thank you so much, I really needed that quote right now (her life has some large changes happening) it has changed my entire thought process on things right now. I felt good that I had been able to make a difference even though I haven’t spoken to my friend on the east coast in six months now.

Everyday I fight through the bullshit of common life, the pain in my head and in my bones, the distance from everything that I hold dear, I fight to stay honest and speak with integrity in a world that is corrupted and spiraling into chaos. I fight to give my bothers and Janna the same possibility that Mom gave us ~ LIFE lived in its fullest and dreams that are made into reality and not the despairing reality many of us have now. Not the damaging circle we stay in because of “what was” and not taking the first step of responsibility to step back from it. I fight to be the example of what IS and all its possibilities.

I cannot bring myself to believe that I am “a beautiful person”  like this quote says but I try to be honest in my life.

An ode to Coffee

The smell of freshly ground coffee is quite intense, it can make a lesser person quiver with endorphins of anticipation of the hot smooth bitterness of heaven in a cup. There are so many ways to drink coffee, bold, bitter and black. Light with cream. Sweet with sugar or fancy with syrups and whipped cream. Cold and refreshing on a hot day, warm and comforting on a cold evening or a breath of life before the dawn breaks early in the morning when nothing else will chase the sleep away. Coffeecake, coffee ice cream, coffee shakes and cupcakes. If they made a mocha oatmeal I would probably buy it. We add it to protein shakes and energy drinks. Granola bars and chocolate desserts – you can find the coffee flavor everywhere. Before breakfast, after dinner and every waking moment in-between. The world runs off of coffee. While sadly the caffeine does little for me I love the taste. I’m a coffee addict without the addiction. With Money tight and a rebelling stomach against anything acidic (from all the ibuprofen) I haven’t had hardly any in the last month (teas and hot chocolate I still do) so when I do get to enjoy a cup after stuffing myself with food to protect said sensitive stomach I feel truly blessed (and that I’m splurging..) and smile at the face of exhaustion even though it’s not the caffeine that makes my day better. As silly as it might seem, coffee and a good book can turn around almost any off day. The simple things in life you always hear people say should be the things we focus on. I’m of the mind that very little is actually simple if it has to do humans (I mean coffee can be pretty complicated with all the stuff we add to it!) but I simply enjoy my coffee even if it’s not a simple thing to have in my life. And only the good stuff!