mother

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I carry an “M” in my mother’s handwriting on my inner arm. The first of many influential M’s in my life, my Mother, Mary. There’s also my grandmother, my goddaughter, my dog and my lover, but it’s the first M who gave me life and has truly been the greatest gift in my life. When I see it, I feel stronger. It also heartens me to think that inside of us, there are generations of mothers whose names we don’t know who brought us to this place.

I thought my mom would be mad when she saw it for the first time. Instead, she hugged me. If you ever need a tattoo artist in Hawaii, I recommend my friend Steven–he’s the only person I trust to permanently mark my body.

Poem: Nayyirah Waheed

Categories: art, words
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matter

maxwanger

You may not believe in magic
But don’t you think it’s strange
The amount of matter in our universe
Has never slightly changed.
That all which makes your body
Was once part of something more
And every breath you ever breathe
Has seen it all before.
There are countless scores of beauty
In all the things that you despise
It could once have been a shooting star
That now makes up your thighs.
And atoms of forgotten life
Who’ve long since ceased to roam
May now have the great honour
To call your crooked smile their home.
You may not believe in magic
But I thought that you should know
The makings of your heart were born
Fourteen billion years ago.
So the next time you feel lonely
When this world makes you feel small
Just remember that it’s part of you
And you’re part of it all.

ERIN HANSON

Photo: Max Wanger

Categories: art, words
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remembering

paiko

“Long walks are off, and alas, bathing in the sea; fillet steaks and apples and raw blackberries (teeth difficulties) and reading fine print. But there is a great deal left. Operas and concerts, and reading, and the enormous pleasure of dropping into bed and going to sleep, and dreams of every variety. Almost best of all, sitting in the sun–gently drowsing and there you are again–remembering.

I remember, I remember, the house where I was born….”

AGATHA CHRISTIE, An Autobiography

Categories: home, words
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be the rain

when there’s nothing
left to burn, be the rain
who brings everything good
back to life

PAVANA

Categories: words
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