Synaesthetic

thingsorganizedneatly:

SUBMISSION: I was intrigued by my friend’s collection of scissors; his obsession of 20 years. - Jim Golden Studio, Portland.

I have a few friends facing huge, scary transitions right now. This is for them as they walk.

Linus Pauling

tattoolit:

These are six lines from “Tattooing in Qazwin”, a poem by Rumi and (loosely) translated by Coleman Barks. The full poem is below, with the six lines bolded. The tattoo was designed by Joshua Davis (www.theartofjoshuadavis.com) and inked by the incomparable Scott Versago (www.scottversago.com). The thorns speak for themselves. The blue is for good luck. The whirling dervish is a tribute to Rumi and the Mevlevi Order, and Rumi’s name is at the bottom in Farsi.

In Qazwin, they have a custom of tattooing themselves
for good luck, with a blue ink, on the back
of the hand, the shoulder, wherever.
A certain man goes to his barber
and asks to be given a powerful, heroic, blue lion
on his shoulder blade. “And do it with flair!
I’ve got Leo ascending. I want plenty of blue!”
But as soon as the needle starts pricking,
he howls,
“What are you doing?”
“The lion.”
“Which limb did you start with?”
“I began with the tail.”
“Well, leave out the tail. That lion’s rump
is in a bad place for me. It cuts off my wind.”
The barber continues, and immediately
the man yells out,
“Ooooooooo! Which part now?”
“The ear.”
“Doc, let’s do a lion with no ears this time.”
The barber shakes his head, and once more the needle,
and once more the wailing,
“Where are you now?”
“The belly.”
“I like a lion without a belly.”
The master lion-maker
stands for a long time with his fingers in his teeth.
Finally he throws the needle down.
“No one has ever
been asked to do such a thing! To create a lion
without a tail or a head or a stomach.
God himself could not do it!”

Brother, stand the pain.
Escape the poison of your impulses.
The sky will bow to your beauty, if you do.
Learn to light the candle. Rise with the sun.
Turn away from the cave of your sleeping.
That way a thorn expands to a rose.
A particular glows with the universal.
What is it to praise?
Make yourself particles.
What is it to know something of God?
Burn inside that presence. Burn up.
Copper melts in the healing elixir.
So melt yourself in the mixture
that sustains existence.
You tighten your two hands together,
determined not to give up saying “I” and “we.”
This tightening blocks you.

nevver:

“If it kills you, you’ve gone too far.” — Alice Neel

nevver:

Plans

Homemade baba ganoush scooped up with endive leaves. I made this batch using Melissa Joulwan’s recipe from her book, Well Fed. It’s excellent. I paraphrase below.

Preheat oven to 500 degF. Take two globe eggplants and poke the skins all over with a fork, and place these on a cookie sheet in the middle of the heated oven. Roast the eggplants for 40 to 50 minutes, until the eggplants are very soft and beginning to collapse.

While the eggplants are roasting, combine in a bowl:

1/4 c tahini
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 garlic clove chopped (or more to taste)
1/4 teaspoon chili powder or mild paprika
1/4 teaspoon cumin (or more to taste, I love cumin)

Once the eggplants are roasted and cooled enough to handle, peel off the skin/tops and discard. Place the flesh in a sieve for a few minutes to drain the remaining moisture from the flesh (about 3 to 5 minutes).

Once the eggplant is drained, add the eggplant to the other ingredients, and puree thoroughly with a stick blender (alternatively, you could place all ingredients in a blender or food processor and puree).

Voila: your ganoush is upon you.

To serve: spread the baba ganoush on a plate or in a shallow bowl. Drizzle it with extra virgin olive oil and sprinkle the top with freshly chopped parsley and toasted sesame seeds.

If you’re doing the paleo: scoop up with endive leaves as mentioned. If not, scoop up in your favorite bread!

barackobama:

Jacob spoke first.

“I want to know if my hair is just like yours,” he told Mr. Obama, but so quietly that the president asked him to speak again.

Jacob did, and Mr. Obama replied, “Why don’t you touch it and see for yourself?” He brought his head level with Jacob, who hesitated.

“Touch it, dude!” Mr. Obama said.

As Jacob, who was 5, patted the presidential crown, Mr. Souza snapped.

“So, what do you think?” Mr. Obama asked.