Tag Archives: Jumo

Beauty is

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Beauty is only skin deep. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is as beauty does. Beauty is truth, truth beauty. Beauty is pain. Beauty is power the same way money is power the same way a gun is power. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. Beauty is welcome. Beauty is a whore. Beauty is vain. Beauty is not caused, it is. Beauty is unbearable. Beauty is the illumination of your soul. Beauty is too much for me to handle. Beauty is a form of genius. Beauty is is something that burns your hand when you touch it. Beauty is whatever gives joy. Beauty is the shadow of imperfections. Beauty is a light in the heart. Beauty is its own excuse for being. Beauty is ineffable. Beauty is everywhere.

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One Man’s Hands

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I would have fit right in with Pete Seeger and the other folk music activists in this out fit from Spyralle – at Fashion For Life, I really love this long ponytail from EMO-tions a Fashion For Life exclusive.

Watching the efforts of the builders, designer and bloggers that are doing their utmost to make Fashion For Life a success, I think of the words of Pete Seeger’s wonderful song, One Man’s Hands.

One man’s hands can’t tear a prison down
Two men’s hands can’t tear a prison down
But if two and two and fifty make a million
We’ll see that day come round
We’ll see that day come round. Continue reading

Duck Duck Goose

0604_001 I have this hate-hate relationship with geese. Sure, I like them well enough for a Sunday dinner, but the only good goose is a cooked goose. My parents were big whist players and while they would be playing whist with Gunda and Louie or A.B. and Nora, I would be told to go play outside and sure enough, outside meant geese. Did you know geese bite? They will chase you all over and bite you. As you can see I am keeping a close eye out for dangerous geese as I explore Perambulate – one of the 10 sims for Fashion for Life. Just a few years ago I was walking along the side of the road and heard this hissing in the darkness. This was out in Cedar Hills, a Portland neighborhood that does not believe in street lights or sidewalks. I could hear this hissing sound so I slowed down, walking gingerly and then Whooosh! from nowhere, this goos beat her wings at me and bit my hand. You know how people say “I don’t know who was more scared.” Hah! I know who was scared and it was not the goose. 0604_002   However, perhaps I am safe in this lovely top and skirt from Poet’s Heart. After all, isn’t that color called Safety Orange? Continue reading