It slowed me down a little...

I got tattooed on my heart
where the fates can see
the blood that's let off the leash
every now and then
to put my dog in that fight
i got the branding done on my soul
parts that make a whole
in those moments of clarity
when i'm not forced to stop
and think...
about the havoc
that could be cooked up
if a sword was pulled out
and dragged across
the marinade of everything
i suddenly see if i'm not
forced to stop
and think...
it slowed me down a little
before the brakes broke
and the sword brought
sparks that ignited the oil
...glistening... on the
fine ass of this world.

On not crossing the road...

St John

Institutions

sunset

Stephanie and Jonano

Hyacinth Wabi-Sabi

Pared down to its barest essence, wabi-sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in nature, of accepting the natural cycle of growth, decay, and death. It's simple, slow, and uncluttered-and it reveres authenticity above all. Wabi-sabi is flea markets, not warehouse stores; aged wood, not Pergo; rice paper, not glass. It celebrates cracks and crevices and all the other marks that time, weather, and loving use leave behind. It reminds us that we are all but transient beings on this planet-that our bodies as well as the material world around us are in the process of returning to the dust from which we came. Through wabi-sabi, we learn to embrace liver spots, rust, and frayed edges, and the march of time they represent.