“In a swamp, as in meditation, you begin to glimpse how elusive, how inherently insubstantial, how fleeting our thoughts are, our identities. There is magic in this moist world, in how the mind lets go, slips into sleepy water, circles and nuzzles the banks of palmetto and wild iris, how it seeps across dreams, smears them into the upright world, rots the wood of treasure chests, welcomes the body home.” WorldMindHomeDreamBodyWaterMeditationMagicIdentityLetting GoWoodsCirclesTreasureChestsSlipsOur ThoughtsGlimpseFleetingElusiveSleepySwampsIrisesTreasure Chests Book:Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination Source: Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination
“While America will always, I think, feel foreign to me, New York City is my home. This is where I can construct my own identity freely and reject labels imposed on me.” ThinkingFeelsI CanHomeAmericaMy OwnCitiesNew YorkIdentityLabelsRejectsNew York CityConstructs Book:Bird of Paradise: How I Became Latina Source: Bird of Paradise: How I Became Latina
“I'm not attached to a certain scene. There was certain music - and techno was a part of it - that really formulated something for me, that really was a direct connection to what I experienced in my life. Going to parties and listening to techno at home helped form my musical identity. And that changed throughout my life.” HomeFormCertainPartyIdentityChangedListeningSceneDirectConnectionsMusicalTechno Author:Pantha du Prince