Melody's Musings

Stuff that catches my fancy and random, sorted thoughts from the inner scrambles of my mind.

What you may expect to find here are what I consider good taste and some of the best in photography, philosophy, humor, art, architecture, food, music, poetry, literature and dance. I hope you like some of the things I enjoy.

I like anything to do with good design such as interior design, architecture, photography, and art. I enjoy philosophy and psychology. I love to figure out what makes individuals tick. Music of most all types but particularly classical, world, pop, acoustic guitar is a big part of my life and add some dance to the music and my day is great! I like to write and occasionally I will write poetry and I really love to read it out loud and I even record it sometimes.

I'm a Myers-Briggs type ENFJ which means I love people and have a great interest in them.

I guess you could say I'm a humanities kind of person. :)







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    Reblogged from apoetreflects
    theantidote:

The Confession of an Apricot
I love incorrectly
There is a solemnity in hands, the way a palm will curve in accordance to a contour of skin, the way it will release a story.
This should be the pilgrimage. The touching of a source. This is what sanctifies.
This pleading.  This mercy. I want to be a pilgrim to everyone, close to the inaccuracies, the astringent dislikes, the wayward peace, the private words.  I want to be close to the telling. I want to feel everyone whisper.
After the blossoming I hang. The encyclical that has come through the branches instructs us to root, to become the design encapsulated within.
Flesh helping stone turn tree.
I do not want to hold life at my extremities, see it prepare itself for my own perpetuation. I want to touch and be touched by things similar in this world.
I want to know a few secular days of perfection.  Late in this one great season the diffused morning light hides the horizon of sea.  Everything the color of slate, a soft tablet to press a philosophy to.
—Carl Adamshick, from Curses and Wishes (LSU Press, 2011).
(via apoetreflects:)

    theantidote:

    The Confession of an Apricot

    I love incorrectly

    There is a solemnity in hands,
    the way a palm will curve in
    accordance to a contour of skin,
    the way it will release a story.

    This should be the pilgrimage.
    The touching of a source.
    This is what sanctifies.

    This pleading.  This mercy.
    I want to be a pilgrim to everyone,
    close to the inaccuracies, the astringent
    dislikes, the wayward peace, the private
    words.  I want to be close to the telling.
    I want to feel everyone whisper.

    After the blossoming I hang.
    The encyclical that has come
    through the branches
    instructs us to root, to become
    the design encapsulated within.

    Flesh helping stone turn tree.

    I do not want to hold life
    at my extremities, see it prepare
    itself for my own perpetuation.
    I want to touch and be touched
    by things similar in this world.

    I want to know a few secular days
    of perfection.  Late in this one great season
    the diffused morning light
    hides the horizon of sea.  Everything
    the color of slate, a soft tablet
    to press a philosophy to.

    —Carl Adamshick, from Curses and Wishes (LSU Press, 2011).

    (via apoetreflects:)

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