Progressive beats.
Artwork courtesy David de Limón

Ninja Hand

Flora

am the handmaid of the earth, 
I broider fair her glorious gown, 
And deck her on her days of mirth 
With many a garland of renown. 

And while Earth's little ones are fain 
And play about the Mother's hem, 
I scatter every gift I gain 
From sun and wind to gladden them.

William Morris

Flora

'Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.'
E.E. Cummings —

Wander In Reverse

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
                            - Christina Rossetti, 1848

Dearest

“Day and night the telescreens bruised your ears with statistics proving that people today had more food, more clothes, better houses, better recreations—that they lived longer, worked shorter hours, were bigger, healthier, stronger, happier, more intelligent, better educated, than the people of fifty years ago.”

- George Orwell, '1984'.

Dot System Game Matrix

What is Success?

To laugh often and much; 
To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children; 

To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends; 

To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by
a healthy child, a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived; 

This is to have succeeded.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Hollywood Freeway

Tokyo

Inspired by Bill Gates' recent visit to Australia...

Image courtesy Banksy

To Know Too Much

Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me. 
- John Burroughs

Image courtesy Banksy

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