humanity
The real lives of businessmen, professionals, the everyday man, stay at home parent, healthy lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories.
How the Arts Have Saved My Life
The arts are beautiful and powerful because they pause the horrific tragedies and mundane realities of life and allow the participant to enjoy a different, more relaxing part of life. The arts I specifically partake in are crocheting and music, both playing and listening to music.
By Mackenzie Larsen 5 years ago in Journal
My Queen Cal Crochet
It’s first thing in the morning, the horses are already fed and there’s a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to me. I pick up my current work in progress and I settle into the couch. Three quarters of the way done, what will become a queen-sized monster of an afghan when it’s completed, is now too big to leave the house with me to help pass the time in waiting rooms. I settle the mass of twisted and looped together yarn across my lap and pick up my crochet hook to continue work where I had left off.
By Kristine Nissel5 years ago in Journal
Aegis of Action
The sun again rises and the motion of the world churns forward. Eating and commuting and working. A populace moving from point to point, barely alive, barely a life. Possessed of a will no longer their own and flown with mediocrity, awash in the sluice of time and drifting further from a glittering shore. Glowing boxes broadcast opinions to sullen ears, unimportant information repeated on the hour as divisions are exaggerated and terrors imagined. The sun sets and night falls. A small respite, but the risen moon casts the shadows of the day to come. Worry and doubt redouble their strength, brethren born of a misery shared by the sleepless staring at dark ceilings. Minutes tick away until yet again the sun sets into motion a distasteful plan, immortal and unbreakable. Were there but some great magic, some plan to allay the morass.
By Brian Salata5 years ago in Journal
Renaissance Festival War Stories
Weekend 1 Opening Sunday I do some walking around the festival grounds with the riddles sign and my book. A trio of adults in their mid-20s stop me for a riddle and one of them says, "Should we sit?" Going with the premise of 'yes and...' we sat down right in the middle of the path. I read some riddles and they each answer one correctly. I eventually extend my legs out and am lying down on my side. I'm holding the riddle book with one hand and gesturing with the other. And like a beacon, a dragonfly lands on my right pinky and stays there for about 45 seconds. One of the ladies was kind enough to snap a few pictures and send them to me. She said, "It's your spirit animal," Then the dragonfly flew off. I said, "It probably would have stuck around longer, but you insulted it by saying I was it's spirit animal."
By Tinka Boudit She/Her5 years ago in Journal
Summer of 78
In my youth in British Columbia, I loved to snorkel in ocean waters. Much of my time was spent when I prepared to attend private school, snorkelling under the White Rock Pier in all sorts of weather. During my youth, crabs were still plentiful around the White Rock Pier and in the rugged breakwater that protected it.
By Bruce Curle `5 years ago in Journal
Turning It Off
I don't really do anything for me, you know? I don't work out just to feel better, I do it because I feel like the world perceives people a certain way. I don't eat healthy so I can live longer, I do it because I think stuffing my face with a 1,000 calorie meal isn't what people consider "disgusting". Life doesn't start like this, it starts really simple enough; you are born with no idea what the hell is going on. Truthfully, that sounds absolutely amazing. No cares, no wants, no needs (other than food and water, and of course a clean diaper). Now you flip that narrative and you are 80 years old and you can feel consciousness slip away from every nerve of your brain until you are left with nothing to remember, kind of like being a newborn.
By Xavier Moreno-Sanchez5 years ago in Journal
