Paula Mela

Lora Mathis

Sunrise, Louise Glück

I love seeing prayers and stories of devotees who worship Gods that I don’t worship.

Actually, I’ve always been like this.

I love hearing the tales of religions that I don’t subscribe to. Even if I don’t agree with every Christian, I do enjoy hearing Christians talk about how wonderful Jesus is and what he means to them personally.

I enjoy hearing Muslims talk about their prayers, how they reserve time out of their day for their God.

I enjoy hearing Jews sing their psalms, I love hearing about how they prepare their food, how they consider God’s hands in their meals.

I love hearing about Hellenic rituals and Semetic celebrations. I love learning about the different holy days among different groups of pagans.

I love learning how different people have incorporated different Gods, acts, and customs into their faith. I love hearing about their myths and legends, the stories they tell their children before bed.

I love hearing about the different ways that humanity has connected to their personal idea of God.

I don’t worship Apollon or Shiva today, but I am so delighted to hear the prayers of those that do. It’s like I’m getting to feel the mist erupting off of a waterfall. Or hearing the echo of a song that I do not know the lyrics to, but I can still hum the melody. I can feel the notes permeate my mind, even if I don’t know what they mean.

I love that there are people who worship these Gods that I do not worship. I’m happy that there is so much diversity among humanity that we have enough love in us for all of them.

For the ones that even I don’t know the names of, or felt the warmth of. Someone has.

That’s a very very good thing.

basking in

the crux of life

relishing in

its sweetness

knowing it will all

one day be over

it’s for you!

kurt vonnegut, being good at things is not the point of doing them.

Today the sky looked like straight from a van gogh painting

I'm turning 18 and i still think like a child. I fear my flesh will grow but my mind will remain at the swing by the playground, the wet grass on my feet, and the tears from expectations. And the nightmare begins; i let the world consume me not me consuming the world.

Top: The moon seen through a telescope ca. 1920-ca. 1925

Bottom: Lunar view 1900-1930