my moms best friend mandy died I call her nani because she was watching anime with a kid and they heard what in Japanese witch is nani and they called mandy nani and I just caught on to it what killed nani was cancer she loved Scotland things like clovers and green she never toke off her clover necklace she wears that thing even in death she was my godmother the sad part was that unlike the last time she got cancer she did not fight it this time she would be mad to know how sad I am about this
In our little potted gardens, sometimes our plants thrive, and sometimes they don't. But what remains constant are the pots still being a pot. This reminds me of the Bible verse, which served as the inspiration for this week's post:
-Isaiah 40:8 NIV-
The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever. //There are 6 Sundays leading up to Good Friday. In observation of Lent, I will be posting 6 works inspired by the theme. This is for the 5th Sunday of Lent.
Ephesians 4:22-24 NIV
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. //There are 6 Sundays leading up to Good Friday. In observation of Lent, I will be posting 6 works inspired by the theme. This is for the 4th Sunday of Lent.
The Moon Mason Bees spread life throughout the galaxy in the world of Under a Hostile Sun!
Astronauts love them. Hate them. Hate to love them and love to hate them. The Moon Masons are larger than cars, have the curiosity of squirrels, the hive mind of insects and endless mutagenic powers.
https://muckraker.itch.io/under-a-hostile-sun
It may be a surprise, but I am only now reading 1st book on UFOs ( I have been mostly interested in aliens as fiction or in ttRPGs). I just learned about the Arecibo Message.
Frank Drake sent a message of 1679 bits to his fellow UFO friends and said that this was a mathematical message he wanted to send to the aliens. While not all cultures share language, we all share math.
To test if it was decode-able, he asked them to figure out what it meant with no other context. They failed.
So he sent it to more UFO friends. They failed, too.
So he put it in a decoder magazine and got exactly one correct answer from an electrician. 1679 is the product of two semi-prime numbers, which should get you to realize it’s a 23 *73 picture.
Bu needless to say if the interpretation rate was that low amongst earthlings, the hopes for alien communication seemed dim. Especially since the message will take 25K years to arrive.
But we do have C’therax and Friends’ take above – admittedly the DNA double helix (blue) does look like a butterflyish thing.
I think we all have been there. Its not that I don't like socializing, but I have anxiety when I'm placed in a large group of people. But once I get to know ya, its smooth sailing from there.
How I followed the trumpets sound in the park and met one of the most famous trumpet player. 3 years ago, I had a conversation with him . Fascinating stuff.
Suddenly the light goes out and staying in the dark is a test of resistance, but when everything seems lost, it turns on again, so simply: sometimes a single attempt isn't enough, there are many moments to spend without light, but you don't have to be afraid of it, because sooner or later we will succeed in the undertaking and it will make you smile as the thing that seemed so difficult came spontaneously, it was enough not to force the process.
I hate the darkness because it shows me a version of myself that I would never want to meet, yet if I accept that the punches of life in some periods are stronger than others, sometimes leaving bruises and burns, but that life itself has granted me caresses like this sweets that I would not have appreciated without going through pain, then everything around me will seem golden. I can only appreciate the hatred and wonder of it.
I can feel those caresses, I can savor them with the same intensity with which I feel the pain of the punches, because ultimately they give so much: the strength to take another step, to not give up right now, right now that I am so close to feeling them in my heart those precious caresses.
Model with Flowers Portrait Art by Oz Galeano
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