I’ve come to realize that the only people I need in my life are the ones who need me in theirs even when I have nothing else to offer them but myself.

Sometimes you have to give up on people, not because you don’t care, but because they don’t.

The highest form of knowledge is empathy.

I’m not impressed by money, social status or job title, but by the way someone treats other human beings.

Empathy is seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another, and feeling with the heart of another.

There is a nobility in compassion, a beauty in empathy, and a grace in forgiveness.

No one heals themselves by wounding another.

Unexpected human kindness is the most powerful, least costly, and most underrated agent of human change.

These Silk sari skirts are reversible, and made of recycled silk by women artisans in India. I LOVE them. They can be worn as a skirt, shirt, dress, skarf/shawl. The craftsmanship is great, and the company Darn Good Yarn is helping employ these talented women in India. Its a great company with a great philosophy. Seeing as I live in New England and it is getting pretty cold here , I have found my way to wear them year round=Shawls!!! They have a video on a bunch of different ways you can wear them , it’s on their blog.

As the fall is setting in I felt like drawing a few quick flowers. These were all done on the backsides of inktober sketches or over poetry I like.

You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

Come sit with me on the edge of the world,
where the calm meets chaos and we are met by our dreams. Let’s watch as madness swirls by our feet and love and scars and all that is beautiful passes by, and then we’ll lean over and catch memories in our
butterfly nets
-Ariana

By an anonymous poet:

She wears the night

like a mantle of mystery,

it’s colors stolen from

crow feathers and obsidian.

In sweet solitude of mind,

She listens to wind secrets

and echoes of distant star songs.

Drinking deeply of moonlight magic

and the rich golden hum

from the universe

she finds wings

and draws strength

in this cocoon of velvet darkness.

• -anonymous

For Jane:

225 days under grass

and you know more than I.

they have long taken your blood.

you are a dry stick in a basket

is this how it works?

in this room

the hours of love

still make shadows

When you left

you took almost

everything

I kneel in the nights

before tigers

that will not let me be.

What you were

will not happen again

the tigers have found me.

and I do not care.

-Carl Bukowski