Here’s joke for you guys:

I followed the breadcrumbs but I never got home
I grew old in an instant now I am all on my own

          June 25th, 2016


          June 17th, 2016

Song of the Grass-Roof Hermitage
— By Shitou Xiqian (700-790)

I’ve built a grass hut where there’s nothing of value.
After eating, I relax and enjoy a nap.
When it was completed, fresh weeds appeared.
Now it’s been lived in – covered by weeds.

The person in the hut lives here calmly,
Not stuck to inside, outside, or in between.
Places worldly people live, he doesn’t live.
Realms worldly people love, he doesn’t love.

Though the hut is small, it includes the entire world.
In ten square feet, an old man illumines forms and their nature.
A Great Vehicle bodhisattva trusts without doubt.
The middling or lowly can’t help wondering;
Will this hut perish or not?

Perishable or not, the original master is present,
not dwelling south or north, east or west.
Firmly based on steadiness, it can’t be surpassed.
A shining window below the green pines —
Jade palaces or vermilion towers can’t compare with it.

Just sitting with head covered, all things are at rest.
Thus, this mountain monk doesn’t understand at all.
Living here he no longer works to get free.
Who would proudly arrange seats, trying to entice guests?

Turn around the light to shine within, then just return.
The vast inconceivable source can’t be faced or turned away from.
Meet the ancestral teachers, be familiar with their instruction,
Bind grasses to build a hut, and don’t give up.

Let go of hundreds of years and relax completely.
Open your hands and walk, innocent.
Thousands of words, myriad interpretations,
Are only to free you from obstructions.
If you want to know the undying person in the hut,
Don’t separate from this skin bag here and now.

          June 15th, 2016

I saw a talk the other day by the founder of feral trade, a grocery and shipping business organized only through personal social networks, and with a completely open supply chain (which makes for a pretty fun website to explore). It’s a bizarre, inspiring, and very interesting model for business and art!

From their about page:

Feral Trade is a grocery business and public experiment, trading goods over social networks. The word ‘feral’ describes a process which is willfully wild (as in pigeon) as opposed to romantically or nature-wild (wolf). The passage of goods can open up wormholes between diverse social settings, routes along which other information, techniques or individuals can potentially travel. [Goods are traded] over social, cultural and occupational networks; harnessing the surplus freight potential of existing travel (friends, colleagues, passing acquaintances) for the practical circulation of goods.

          March 25th, 2016

I love this.

          March 4th, 2016

Thank christ for the internet. Thank christ for Salman Khan.

A glossy 15 minute survey:

          March 1st, 2016

“My personal experience has not been that traveling around the country is broadening or relaxing, or that radical changes in place and context have a salutary effect, but rather that intranational tourism is radically constricting, and humbling in the hardest way–hostile to my fantasy of being a true individual, of living somehow outside and above it all.” –David Foster Wallace

          January 23rd, 2016

“I have a Masters in history, a Masters in anthropology, and a PhD in education.”
“What would you say has been your greatest accomplishment?”
“My personality.”

From Humans of New York

          January 21st, 2016


From his website:

“Joe Szabo is a teacher, photographer, and author who began his photographic studies at Pratt Institute where he received an MFA degree in 1968. He taught photography at Malverne High School in Long Island from 1972-1999 and at the International Center of Photography in New York since 1978. He has been photographing his teen-age students for the past twenty-five years.”

          January 19th, 2016