MargaretC
@margaretc
MargaretC
My work then is what all honorable work is—the attempt to control chaos. It has freed me till now from physical want, from prolonged dependence on my fellows, and occasionally from myself. It has freed me for the attempt to understand, if not control, disorder in myself and in those I love. It has even freed me at times to participate in the riches... See more
Margaret Sartor • Seeing Reynolds Price Through His Art Collection
Ali Farka Toure, Ry Cooder - Diaraby
youtu.beMy favourite Movie Soundtracks
Besieged
Paul Davis | The Moth GrandSLAM (Identity Crisis)
youtube.comhumor and Public Speaking
I listened to this while prepping for my public speaking course where I shared a funny story. It helped relax me
Music — with all the mysterious power by which it “enters one’s ears and dives straight into one’s soul, one’s emotional center” — is made not of notes of sound but of atoms of time. And if music is made of time, and if time is the substance we ourselves are made of, then in some profound sense, we are made of music.
Maria Popova • We Are Made of Music, We Are Made of Time: Violinist Natalie Hodges on the Poetic Science of Sound and Feeling
GitHub - KillianLucas/open-interpreter: OpenAI's Code Interpreter in your terminal, running locally
KillianLucasgithub.com
Made me smile and feel like 10 again!
In my local bookshop whilst browsing in the interiors I found a sealed blue envelope in one of the books. It wasn't addressed to anyone and there wasn't another one in other copies of the same book. I felt it was for me to open!! Not quite the words or message I'd hoped for but an enchanting experience.
Books I want to remember and Things that inspired or pushed me to take action
For the first day or two I felt stunned, overwhelmed. I could only apprehend my felicity; I was too confused to taste it sincerely. I wandered about, thinking I was happy, and knowing that I was not. I was in the condition of a prisoner in the old Bastile, suddenly let loose after a forty years' confinement. I could scarce trust myself with myself. It was like passing out of Time into Eternity—for it is a sort of Eternity for a man to have his Time all to himself. It seemed to me that I had more time on my hands than I could ever manage. From a poor man, poor in Time, I was suddenly lifted up into a vast revenue; I could see no end of my possessions; I wanted some steward, or judicious bailiff, to manage my estates in Time for me. From “The Superannuated Man” 1823