Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution.
She watched the day slip away from her, slowly at first, turning from a lovely bright pink to an iridescent orange, bright cornflower blue to a deep navy, the peak of the distant western shores’ volcano standing starkly above the ridge of hills on the other side of the plateau, and then, suddenly, it was night. And the cold seeped through the thin jacket she had with her. A fire should have been lit, a shelter thrown up, a bed off the ground arranged, but she just couldn’t pull herself out of the numbness that had engulfed her brain, like cotton wool had been stuffed in through her ears and there was no room left for anything else, and what was there is slowly leaking out. She knew it was deadly, sitting there, in the open, no cover, no heat, and snow threatening from the South. Besides they might have survived, it was only another days’ hike at most. She could see into the valley, her destination, for now. There were no lights winking at her in the distance, there were no moving globs where she knew the highway was, but she wasn’t expecting to see the old scenery anyway.
She drew her knees to her chin, let out a sigh and stood. With what little light the moon was releasing she would have to set up below the outcrop of rock behind her, it would do. Besides, once the fire was going there would be enough light to weave a makeshift blanket of flax, at least it would break the wind and keep the snow off. Once she found her answers here there was a long trek North to be made, and the answers she might find there terrified her. She had to avoid those thoughts. They would incapacitate her, entirely…
I hate when things start to lose their magic. You know when you find something new you enjoy and it makes you smile and thoughtful and wonder and imagine and gives you energy and vigor and a light feeling. This was moving to the big city for me.
I am a country girl born and raised, given it was two different countries. Born in Busselton, Australia (you’re forgiven for not knowing where this is, closest directions I can give you is Western Australia near Perth), we moved when I was 3 years old, but I can still remember the dry red dirt around our house on stilts and the little girl next door and the Kangaroo farm nearby. We moved to a very small town, National Park, in central New Zealand, and I have no complaints about that upbringing.
I miss home, so bad right now, country bumpkin at heart
|—||James Joyce (via thecultofgenius)|
So I’m guessing once you start dreaming about fire breathing evil dudes, trying to kill all occupants of a small village surrounding a castle, meanwhile you’re trying to save said occupants by hiding them in the castle walls and yelling at the guy who has the key to stopping it to use it already, that you have probably been reading too much The Hobbit, am I right? Yea I should probably stop reading it, but I’m more than half way through the 2nd read through. Yep I truly actually meant the 2nd time I’ve read it since I bought it…..a month ago. Can not wait till that movie comes out, if only I could have got a chance at being an elf (casting calls this weekend, not really the right build for an elf, wishing that I had perhaps started the dramatic fall in numbers on the scale a half year earlier, wishing that wishes actually did come true). Perhaps someone will film something else awesome in New Zealand and I can try then. I love that dreams are free. Although fire breathing evil dudes? What gives? What’s more I’m pretty sure he wasn’t actually a dragon, his exact physical appearance seems to elude my dream memory. Weird dreams as weird thinks I guess.
(Oh by the way, I have actually read The Hobbit before I bought it, first time I was probably about 8 years old, since then I’ve probably read it a dozen times, interspersed with Lord of the Rings and many many other books. I’m just slightly obsessed with the escape from reality that is contained in books.)
This Christmas camping trip I took a photo of a Dragon, yes you read right and no I am not delusional. I intend to paint this dragon onto a nice piece of canvas. I will then photograph the painting on the canvas and post it. It’s a rather fierce looking dragon, or atleast from a couple of angles. Horns all over his head, teeth of every size, armour on his legs, wings that looked a bit like spiderwebs. Only thing is when he poked his head around the side of the cave and through the trees he just looked cute and curious. Without doing that he could have been mistaken for a purplish version of Smaug (if you don’t know who this is you better do some serious reading of the classics).
Oh and Hey! I’m back
|—||Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love. From Sex, Drugs, Einstein and Elves by Clifford A. Pickover, 2005. (via ingridrichter)|
Oh my gosh, so busy, oh and my laptop carked it, but good, behind on my tumbling though, so behind, so when I finally dropped in to catch up on the haps I had to say hi. Working on some more important lessons, so hopefully the laptop is revived soon and I can post some stuff. How life lovely? Treating you oh so good I hope
|—||Mahatma Gandhi (via thecultofgenius)|