All I’m saying is: if someone has chicken wire and a kiddie pool we could make this happen. I wrote this a few years ago. My life was very different then, but this post needed only a tiny bit of freshening to still be true.
Firechucking. Fills me with delight.

Come on in, 2014. I think we’re going to be good friends.

Shullamuth Ballinger

“We are born of the world and we are born of the stars.  None of our changing perspectives, religious or scientific, can change that fact.”

The above is an excerpt from astrophysicist Adam Frank’s recent post on NPR’s 13.7 blog, a lovely and well written piece, but if I may interpolate:

Between the world and the stars there is this–winter comes for us all. It’s not just the shiver, the fear of hunger, the barren branches. It’s the fundamental symbolism:  Cold is the corpse’s texture, white its complexion, inevitable and too soon its timing. As the land is, we will someday be.

No matter what happens after, if you don’t grieve the loss of this life, you are a fool. And not the Fool of the tarot, unmapped and awake to infinite possibility, either. The dumbass denial kind. That fool.

It sucks to realize we’re just stock characters on a crowded stage and all the…

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