If you’ve got a special talent, have a unique point of view or simply have a burning desire to make an important difference this year, you just need to find your tribe of followers who will get behind you as you try to make your vision and your dreams a reality.
For years, I have wondered if we could be getting it wrong when we assumed that x symptom meant y problem in every patient with autism. Maybe things were being lost in translation more often than we realized, because autism was its own language.
She was led, while a child, to see the retreating forces of Charles Edward (i.e. Bonnie Prince Charlie) pass from Falkirk to Culloden. Her uncle, the Laird of Feddal and Shawn, in whose house she was brought up followed the fortunes of the Prince to battle, was never more heard of, alive or dead.
Have you ever lost something? An object, I mean – something perhaps that you cherish? I not so long ago lost a book. It was a wonderful book, entitled “Sing Them Home,” by Stephanie Kallos.
The Poets – Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Adrianne Rich – sat in the poet’s chair and spoke their poems and rhymed and sang their poems to men and women who clapped or snapped, who thanked the poet for the words.
Dressed in costumes to disguise their identity, people in rural communities would visit the home of newly married couples to offer their mock serenade, with horns, whistles, drums, and wild dancing.
“I have a lot more patience than when I came here. Also, one thing that’s hard to get your head around is that seeing the world from a different viewpoint is neither good nor bad; it’s only a different point of view.” This came from a man I talked to in San Luis de la Paz.
It was exactly a hundred years ago (1913-14) that Pablo Picasso came up with his ‘The Card Players,’ a masterly painting. A distilled peek into the psyche of the legendary painter and his timeless work, brought alive by one of his ‘best’ biographers, Norman Mailer — the American novelist, journalist
Shutta Crum has deep roots in this Appalachian heritage of storytelling. In this tradition, stories are passed from one generation to the next. Sometimes the stories have you on the edge of your seat with your neck hairs straight up. Other nights, you can laugh so hard your ribs hurt.
Whenever adults described me as a child they always inserted a modifier: they said I was terribly shy or horribly shy or, the most painful of all, painfully shy. But even as a shy kid I was never bored or without friends. That’s because I surrounded myself with words and pictures.