For you, from me, with love

Vonnegut quote photo credit Kirsten Akens 2015

A blend of old and new offerings around and about that I've been dipping into this week.


Learn: Are 140-character tweets hurting our writing or helping?

Participate: For introverts (from a fellow introvert), a Quiet Revolution.

Read: The Infernal Devices trilogy, by Cassandra Clare.

Watch: French-Tunesian street artist eL Seed and his awesome calligraffiti:

Eat: Heidi Swanson's Baked Oatmeal (I made this for a brunch potluck with gluten-free oats — it fed a lot of people and it was so good!)

Listen: "Angels of the Get Through" by Andrea Gibson, with Kaylen Krebsbach:

Insight: Quote below from an essay I love a ton. Read the whole thing, "The Stories We Tell Ourselves," by Terri Schanks here.

Who are you, and who are you becoming? Are you the same person you were at seven? Well, yes and no. Yes, you probably have the same name. And theoretically you have the same body, but science tells us even that is an incorrect illusion. What is the same? Probably the stories. The memories. The intangible, ineffable qualities that make a life are still there, hopefully with some more wisdom and patience, hopefully with some insight, but probably that insight came as the result of experiences — some pleasant and some not so much. As my father used to say, “experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.”