5:00 PM Bell! Let’s Go Amangiri.

Amangiri9

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Amangiri, ‘peaceful mountain’, is situated in Canyon Point, Southern Utah, close to the border with Arizona. The resort is tucked into a protected valley with sweeping views over colourful, stratified rock towards the Grand Staircase – Escalante National Monument. The resort is a 25-minute drive from the nearest town of Page, Arizona and a 15-minute drive to the shores of Lake Powell. Architecturally, the resort has been designed to blend into the landscape with natural hues, materials and textures a feature of the design. The structures are commanding and in proportion with the scale of the natural surroundings, yet provide an intimate setting from which to view and appreciate the landscape.”

Don’t miss the picture tour for Amangiri: Picture Tour


Source: My Modern Met

 

Saturday Morning

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Source: Daniel Savage via …Exactly

Sunday Morning: The tinkling of a spoon against china

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Silence is now offered as a luxury good. In the business-class lounge at Charles de Gaulle airport, what you hear is the occasional tinkling of a spoon against china. There are no advertisements on the walls, and no TVs. This silence, more than any other feature of the space, is what makes it feel genuinely luxurious. When you step inside and the automatic airtight doors whoosh shut behind you, the difference is nearly tactile, like slipping out of haircloth into satin. Your brow unfurrows itself, your neck muscles relax; after twenty minutes you no longer feel exhausted. The hassle lifts. Outside the lounge is the usual airport cacophony. Because we have allowed our attention to be monetized, if you want yours back you’re going to have to pay for it.

~ Matthew B. Crawford, The World Beyond Your Head: On Becoming an Individual in an Age of Distraction


Photo: Edisaacs | Dreamstime.com – Cup,Saucer And Spoon Photo

Saturday Morning: Flying Low

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Today I’m flying low and
I’m not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.
The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.
But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move
though really I’m traveling a terrific distance.
Stillness.
One of the doors into the temple.

~ Mary Oliver, Today from A Thousand Mornings


Photo: Robdownunder

T.G.I.G.F.*: Kicking Off a 3-Day Weekend

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Notes: Source – themetapicture.com (Thank you Susan).  T.G.I.G.F.* = Thank Goodness It’s Good Friday

Saturday Morning

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There were a lot of other things he no longer had to deal with.
He was like one of those horses,
who having shaken off the jockey,
slow down, dreamily, to a gentle trot,
while the others are still bursting their lungs
in pursuit of a finish line and an order of arrival.

Alessandro Baricco, from Mr. Gwyn


Notes: Photo Source. Quote: The Journey of Words

It’s like pulling into our own train station after a long trip

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When you love something like reading — or drawing or music or nature — it surrounds you with a sense of connection to something great. If you are lucky enough to know this, then your search for meaning involves whatever that Something is. It’s an alchemical blend of affinity and focus that takes us to a place within that feels as close as we ever get to “home.” It’s like pulling into our own train station after a long trip — joy, relief, a pleasant exhaustion.

~ Anne Lamott, Stitches. A Handbook on Meaning, Hope & Repair


Image: iwetaczech

Saturday Morning: No deadlines. No failures. Just sleep and sleep.

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Start the night before. Don’t set the alarm.
Consider setting it, perhaps, but decide against.
Shut the blinds before you lie down at night.
Turn the plastic rod so the blinds are tight.
When the inevitable light forms in lines
and brightens your room anyway, turn away.
Close your eyes again and see if that helps.
When closing your eyes doesn’t help,
pull the covers over your head. Grab them
in a way that you can tighten them all around.
Like, as a child who believed in witches,
you blocked their prying searches for you.
Get comfortable again. Adjust your under-the-covers
pillows. Wiggle your shoulders into new,
less scrunched positions. Let your arms rest
where they will.
Think lovely thoughts. Really. Go all Mary Poppins,
or if you prefer, Mr. Rogers.
Put on a metaphorical cardigan and slippers.
Enter the world of make believe.
There is no car here, no highway,
no bumper-to-bumper, no boss,
no deadlines, no failures,
just sleep and sleep and dreams.

— catthy barber, How to Stay in Bed


Notes:

Release

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The spintop wobbles after a dizzying week. It spins, the revolutions breathless. It turns, slower now, spinning on wisps of the remaining adrenaline.

He’s got it half right. It is the steady pounding of days that is our undoing.

I’ve seen what’s to come—
it is the days,
the steady pounding of days,
like gentle rain,
that will be our undoing.

— John Philip Johnson, from “There Have Come Soft Rains,” Rattle (No. 45)

And it’s Yoko Ono’s memories of the Summer of 1961 that beckon. “Stand in the evening light until you become transparent or until you fall asleep.”

Let it go.

Release.

Evaporate into the night.

Bring on the grace of Saturday morning.


Credits:

  • Find John Philip Johnson’s entire poem here: There Have Come Soft Rains. And be sure to note the poet’s wonderful comment below.
  • Photograph – Maria Stolan (Blue Lights Wake Me)
  • Yoko Ono, 1961 Summer, “Body Piece” from “Grapefruit.”

 

MMM*: Yes. Go ahead. Do it.

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Take your time getting dressed this morning;
read a book,
make yourself some breakfast.
The world can wait.

~ The art of recovery


Notes: