faded version of itself

Preta nos mostrou que a vulnerabilidade também é força e que compartilhar também é resistir, e que falar da dor também é forma de amar.

parece que nos falta o silêncio para reflexão e para escutar a própria voz. As redes calaram o diálogo e amplificaram o ruído e a mentira. A música me ensinou que a pausa também faz parte da melodia.

almost any season of the year, wherein the world reaches its perfection, when the air, the heavenly bodies, and the earth make a harmony, as if nature would indulge her offspring

https://youtu.be/I6RVE0xYjoI

Practicality is key in Frazier’s wardrobe, because he spends most of his free time volunteering in community gardens, urban farms, and other nature stewardship proj- ects. Amongst them he cites El Jardin de las Mariposas in Pilsen, Bridgeport Victory Gar- dens and Plowshares in Bridgeport, Chicago Patchwork Farms, City Farm, Chicago Honey Co-op, and TreeKeepers—a tree planting program provided by Openlands. The day he was photographed, Frazier was planting garlic at El Paseo Community Garden in Pilsen, mulching with the discarded straw he picked up from restaurants and storefronts. He’s been volunteering there for about four years—doing building and repairing projects, beekeeping, and growing plants. “I like im- provising and problem-solving, seeing things grow, and using my hands,” he says. “I can’t imagine spending my free time doing anything else.

The great irony of winter is that the moment darkness is greatest is also the moment light is about to return. Artificial light has interrupted humanity’s experience of true darkness, making us more uncomfortable, and robbing us of the night sky, he said. In a year that stripped life to bare fundamentals, the natural world has become our shared story. Seasons have offered the rare reminder that the world moves on even as our sense of time has blurred. The most important thing is to hold that tiny spark of life, if it is in a bud, in a seed, that is our work, to hold on to life, so when spring comes back, there can be growth. I’ve stopped trying to handle the darkness. I let the darkness handle me instead. Most of the time all it wants to do is hold me for a while — slow me down, keep me from running, cover me up long enough to remember that being in the dark doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me. It means I’m alive, and this is part of the deal

Winter is a primal time of death and loss, and a time for grief. It reminds us that darkness, not only light, is part of the recurring rhythm of what it means to be human.

Here we have the basis for a character profile of technical civilization: if hypochondria is an obsession with the circulation of substances and the functioning of the primary organs, we might well describe modern man, the cybernetician, as a mental hypochondriac, as someone obsessed with the perfect circulation of messages.

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I can’t be a pessimist because I’m alive. To be a pessimist means you have agreed that human life is an academic matter. So I’m forced to be an optimist. That we can and must survive. (...) The future of the negro precisely depends on the future of America. And vice versa.