Music as Medicine ~ What Does Sound Do To You?

Do you wake up to your clock radio alarm set to music in the morning? Is the radio tuned to a certain genre of music and station that you know offers your choice of sound for starting your day? Or do you wade through a stream of silence for your wake time? As you go through your day what do you choose to listen to along the way? What’s coming through your earplugs and headphones and speakers? Why do you listen to music? Think about it. It’s not just background noise. Music can lift us up, bring us down, terrify and inspire us. It excites and cues us as we watch movies. Music moves our feet and our hears. So is it really any surprise that music offers medicine for our bodies, minds and souls?

What are you putting into your ears by choice? What sounds can’t you filter in or out? What’s your go-to music for chasing the blues away? I’ve still got Aldrey’s  La Lista on the sidebar because of the song and all those smiling faces. It’s tough to stay down with all that positive energy flowing with so much fun.

Music and sound as medicine are relatively new concepts in western medicine. But this is are very old concept in eastern cultures where a holistic approach is taken in the healing arts.

One example of music as medicine being taken seriously on several levels in the state’s is Weill Cornell Medical College  Music as/is Medicine program .  Theirs is a very layered approach which involves several forms of educational and practical collaborations between disciplines.  A quick Google search of music as medicine will keep anyone interested busy reading for as long as they’re willing to pursue the concept. If you search for it on YouTube you’ll find hours and hours of music geared towards physical, mental and spiritual healing.

For a starting point there’s The Healing Power of Sound: Recovery from Life-threatening Illness Using Sound, Voice and Music by Dr. Mitchell Gaynor.


The Road to Recovery with Dr. Mitchell Gaynor: Sound Healing



Listen to Nahko Bear’s rendition of Aloha Ke Akua with your eyes closed and with them open — with and without the images.  What does the music do to you physically and emotionally? Consider your being in relation to sound.


Nahko Bear (Medicine for the People) ~ Aloha Ke Akua


Free Download of this piano version at…


Robert Gupta Between Medicine and Music



Lee Bartel Music as Medicine

The Agenda with Steve Paikin

Music therapy is often thought of as a tool to provoke an emotional reaction from patients and allow their brain to accomplish tasks in a different way. But Lee Bartel says it offers much more than that.  Music is no longer just a therapy, music is medicine – and the results are measurable. Lee Bartel joins Steve Paikin.


One form of music therapy:

University of Iowa

Kirsten Nelson, one of three music therapists at UI Hospitals and Clinics and UI Children’s Hospital, uses music to help the youngest heal.


Here’s another way in which music and medicine work together:

Unsinkable by Sam Tsui & Elle Winter


Published on Sep 9, 2013

ALL PROCEEDS from this track go toward pediatric cancer research!!
Downoload here!…

“Unsinkable” is a song we wrote for 16 year-old Cindy, a cancer patient at the Mount Sinai Kravis Children’s Hospital, through Music is Medicine’s Donate a Song project. ALL proceeds and support for the song will benefit pediatric oncology research at Mount Sinai Check out the video, buy the song, and share it with friends to support the fight against childhood cancer!

Donate a Song is a project that invites artists to write and record original songs for seriously-ill children that inspire the patients, share their stories of strength, and contribute to the greater fight against their diseases. You can learn more about the cause and how YOU can get involved by going to,, and or send an email to Thanks for your support!

Elle’s info!!


There are many versions of the Medicine Buddha Mantra available online. This one of my favorites because of its particular musical rendition. Namaste.

Medicine Buddha Mantra

To eliminate not only pain of diseases but also help in overcoming the major inner sickness of attachment, hatred, jealousy, desire, greed and ignorance.

Mantra chanted by Khenpo Pema Chopel Rinpoche from the CD ‘The Blessing from H.H. Penor Rinpoche for World Peace’.



The Healing Power of Sound, publisher’s link


Bear’s treatment of Music as Medicine –>


Johnny’s guitar and voice are available for your ears –>


willowdot21’s very personal experience with music as medicine =>


What’s Today? Oh yeah, Taino Genocide Day . . .

It’s 14, October, 2013.  Some people are celebrating what might be called a myth or a lie of epic proportions about a fellow named Christopher Columbus.  Shall we discuss irony? Manifest Destiny? Greed? The profit motive? Slavery? Genocide? Rape? Murder? Torture? Yeah, the man did it all according to his own words and those of his companions. So what exactly is being celebrated? I’m at a loss–unless it’s an extremely sanitized delusional story,  because the truth would scare the pants off all the little children if it were told in classrooms. Oh but excuse me, schools are not supposed to be about  truth or reality. Nor are books. Certainly not poetry.  so what.  Here’s some historical truth, some current ugly reality and some poetry that deals with both.

“Mic Check”

TheBigPictureRT TheBigPictureRT

Oops, “Reality Check.”


To the Indigenous Woman – A poem by the 1491s (short version)



Bad Indians, a poem by Ryan Red Corn


was told by those old ones
that every song has a special time and a place where its sang
this is our song
and this our time
they used to say the only good indian is a dead indian
i must be a no good at being indian
cuz I feel alive and kicking
we are the bastard reject children of manifest destiny
the offspring of fornicating aimsters
raised by our grandparents who told us
not to confuse being warriors with gangsters
the edward curtis groupies get jazzed by anyone fitting the bill
and America gets jazzed by every Bury My Heart at Walmart film
here i stand before you
this crowd of nations
this life of sanctions
an awkward patience
like five hundred BIA buildings vs. a fathers’ unfiltered hate
right next to the IHS building with a two and a half week wait.
a cinderblock battlefield where few are left standing
and the people its failing, its’ marginalized estate.
i am armed to the teeth with words from the ivory tower
and those good indians told me its borrowed power if…
if i talk loud enough
if i talk clear enough
that i would be heard
that for some talking is singing
that for some singing is praying
but i guess that depends on who is doing the talking
and i guess that depends on who is doing the listening
…so understand me in english,
you have been robbed of your tongues
the taproot of thought
in the middle of resisting
the language got caught
and she only shows her face during ceremony
like she’s ashamed of her scars
like what she has to say is never really heard. at all.
and the violence she knows is enough to never sing again
but i killed the cameraman and stripped him of his lense.
i photographed the body and asked him to forgive.
forgive me as i cut out your tongue
forgive me as i put you in this powdered wig
forgive me when i put your body in a museum
forgive me of all my sins
for not being a good indian
the balls of your forefathers will be traded for whiskey
to fuel the molotov cocktails to be tossed at your cities
and the breasts of your mothers severed and bloody
will be sold to the freak show for the revelers money
your children will witness their whole world collapse
as kidnapped siblings must erase names off maps
so forgive me of all my sins
for not being a good indian
i was taught better than that
i have more respect than that
there is no history book with my story
there is no newspaper to give me my glory
because no one has heard this language in years
cept kokopelli, dream catchers and a trail of beers
my voice is a small pox blanket
that spreads like fire on the prairie
infecting both fist and hatchet
in the spirit of fucking crazy

Lest you get the wrong idea with all this negative press, let’s end on a positive note from “all my relations”:


Indigenous Love Words Project


We asked one simple question: How do you say, “I Love You”, in your Indigenous language?

This is a crowd-sourced project organized by The 1491s. All footage was submitted by fans and supporters from throughout the world.

We say thank you to all those who submitted videos!! We are working on a succinct credits list, to be posted here, soon!!!!

Music Credit: “Kodi Track” by Frank Waln –…

Earth Sensual Saturday a la Nahko Bear (Medicine for the People) Aloha Ke Akua

Lyrics and download link posted here:

*Original footage was used for a series of commercials called Estrellas del Bicentenario, which was part of the Bicentennial celebration intended to reflect the natural beauty of Mexico to the world. Created by Pedro Torres, Diego Pernía and the Mates Group. It aired in 2010 on Televisa.

Breakfast Special, #17, Never Hook a Gift Fish In the Gills

Never Hook a Gift Fish in the Gills

Morning came and with it the smell of a forest woodland Sarge had never walked through, yet which his nose identified as definitely not the city park. Noticing that Lily had already exited her down burrow and the room, he wandered into the bathroom where the smell was strongest. He didn’t identify its main source until he looked in the shower and discovered a fine mesh bag securely tied over the water sprayer. Closer investigation revealed the bag contained an assortment of leaves, formerly dried flowers, pine needles and other plant matter he was unable to identify.  Enjoying the scent emanating from the moist collection, he decided to take a shower.  He left the bag in place for the water to run through it, hoping there were plenty more good smells left inside.

After shutting the water off, he stood inhaling the scented steaming air in the bathroom. Feeling like much more than his skin had been cleaned and refreshed he dressed, then went to see if Lily was waiting for him to stuff her with another round of pancakes or if she’d already finished her morning feeding frenzy.

When he stepped into the kitchen she grinned at him. “Water just hit full boil. How many poached eggs can you eat?”

Sarge shrugged. “At least three. Yeah, definitely three with toast should do me just fine. Morning to you too.” She winked her greeting.

“Okay, I’ll toss in an extra in case one breaks. If you don’t eat it, I will.” She proceeded to start cracking eggs into a bowl and sliding them into the pot of rapidly boiling water. “Gunpowder tea is in the pot. The peaches are canned but they’re chilled and yummy. Drop your bread for toasting at will. Now it looks about time to start chasing these eggies.”

By the time he was buttering two slices of toasted rye bread, four poached eggs were cuddling together in a shallow bowl. “Maybe you should just eat the fourth egg or at least set it aside because I’m going to put a lot of Rosa’s red sauce on the others.”

Lily sipped her tea. “No problem, Sarge.  I ate mine with Rosa’s sauce too. If the fourth one is too much for you, it’ll be fine keeping warm there until you’ve had enough. I’ve always got room for poached eggs.”

“I have no doubt.” Sarge showered red sauce over the eggs, broke the first one and spooned part of it onto a slice of toast. After swallowing his first mouthful, he sighed. “Ah, hell, it’s been a long time since I’ve had poached eggs. They’re definitely the best hands down. Thanks Lily. I wouldn’t count on getting the fourth one, if I were you.”

“I’m not worried. There are four more eggs still in the carton. If I, or you, want more, we can do at least another half round each. There is another cartoon.” Hiding her smile behind her cup, she watched him take his time enjoying every bite of egg, sauce, toast and an occasional peach slice in between.  She noticed that the smells from the bathroom had done more than simply follow him into the kitchen. His unruly mop of hair seemed to have soaked up the scents like a sponge so much so that with his every movement a fresh wave rippled from him into the surrounding air. This morning, Lily was content to let the past merge into the present as the memories associated with the woodland scents were some of the happiest of her childhood. Pulling up her feet onto her chair so she could rest her cup on her knees, she thoughtfully considered her idea of a very good smelling young man happily eating a bowl of poached eggs.

Lily tried to view him as Esther had spoken about him as a piece of fine-looking man candy. While she understood quite well what Esther, JJ, and Rosa meant by that phrase, she was having the same trouble with it that she had with various other concepts which had not been part of her early cultural learning, especially those in regard to people. So while Sarge took his time enjoying his breakfast, Lily sat quietly wondering if her Gran and mother would have considered Sarge attractive or a suitable mate by their cultural measures of men. While his hair was short by their standards, at least it was thick. His height and build were both beyond the usual range for her people. Both would have challenged a snowshoe artist to get the right dimensions and tensions for an appropriate pair of shoes for him. But all things considered regarding her memory of that person, Lily had no doubt the challenge would have been met more than adequately. The hazel eyes would have attracted Gran’s attention as an anomaly.  Yet, the symmetry and balance of his facial features were not exactly distinctive enough to have brought an appreciative comment forth from Gran who had never hesitated to share her opinions of the opposite gender in any regard. Lily was fairly certain the openness conveyed by his smile could have gotten him some traction into Gran’s good graces and probably her mother’s too.  But her mother would have placed a much higher value on his physical strength and skills, rather than his looks considering the context of their world. She also knew from childhood memories that effective problem solving on the fly trumped physical strength in her mother’s personal value system. What he’d done in Rosa’s basement by himself would have gotten him high marks in that regard .The basement plan he’d worked up with Ricardo tossed a few more fish points in his bucket. As for his board action which had started off the walkway on the snow, well, Lily was certain even her father and Priest would have appreciated that notion.  As far as Lily could tell from his reading and their shared enjoyment of Volpone his other forms of intellectual grey matter appeared viable and in good working order.

Hence, creative intelligence and apparent good nature were what would have actually gotten him any truly serious traction as a potential suitor as far as Gran was concerned, especially after their time in Anchorage. Of that much Lily was certain. Gran had always appreciated and enjoyed coming up with new ways to solve the old and new problems of daily living. She’d also made it very clear to her granddaughter that the last thing to look for in a mate was physical attractiveness. While that could be a pleasing enough thing in itself, it did not ensure a steady supply of food nor offer a woman any protection and help in the face of any natural or man-made crisis. Nor did a so-called handsome face insure an equally appealing personality to match. The two definitely did not go hand in had. In short, masculine eye candy was basically good for only one thing, a good laugh. If that was all a man had to offer then, according to Gran, and Priest too, Lily ought not to be doing anything with him except enjoying the scenery while swiftly passing by on her way to finding someone with considerably more to offer in regard to finding someone for sharing her life. This was one reason she hadn’t mentioned Sarge’s looks to her friends even though she had known such information was of high interest to them. Lily could practically hear Gran telling her to look beyond the packaging for whatever else the man had to offer in this strange world of which she thought she finally had gained a fairly solid understanding.  Oh sure you like that smile, Lily. Yep, it’s a good one, but what he got in survival skill set? How he match up with a good caribou man? Or a fine seal hunter? A dependable fisherman? What he got to offer that’s real in that world you living in, Lily? How would he be here? Would he even come here if I and Priest were still mushing?

After refilling her and Sarge’s cups with more tea, Lily ate another peach slice. Savoring its flavor she considered Sarge in relation to other men whose company she’d shared.  It hadn’t been easy finding enjoyable male companionship in what she considered a very literal urban jungle complete with all sorts of unpredictable human predators up and down the human food chain. She was far too well aware of her cultural heritage’s influence on her daily life and the high value she placed upon it to disappear into someone else’s cultural context like a ghost. She’d met young men who had offered her a choice to do just that, plus a variety of others. Only a very few had  tried to meet her on her own terms which included venturing into the world of her happy early formative years via her rich memories. None of them had ever considered taking a shower with her home people land scents or even entertained the notion of letting such thoroughly soak into their hair. Some had appreciated the scents on her person and in her living spaces. But until now no other man had taken them on himself.  At the moment Lily was enjoying the effects this was having on her. She certainly wasn’t quite ready to let Sarge, or anyone else for that matter, in on her little secret. Not until she knew if it had been a fluke because she’d left the mesh bag on the shower head out of habit or if he’d deliberately chosen to imbue himself with the smell of some of her very favorite things because he found them appealing all on his own.

Sarge easily managed to eat all four poached eggs, doing so in about fives times the length of time it had taken Lily to ravenously consume her meal of them before he’d even thought of venturing into the waking world. He savored every bite and then cleaned the bowl with a untoasted slice of rye bread. As he relished the dregs he leaned back in his chair slack limbed with contentment. “Ahhh Lily, between your wonderful poached eggs and all the good shower smells, I feel like a brand new man. Is there any way I could get you to part with some of that stuff for a little packet to carry around for a whiff when I get stressed? A while back I read some things about aromatherapy. I tried to find something I liked, but nothing ever quite did the trick for me. Your shower bag definitely has the right stuff. I’m willing to make a fair trade for a regular supply. What do you say? Hmm?”

When Lily began giggling in a manner that implied she knew something he didn’t and wasn’t about to share with him, Sarge decided not to even bother asking her what was so funny. Thinking perhaps he’d wandered into some sort of private joke of hers, he wasn’t going to pursue his request further.

“So Sarge, um, just what are you willing to trade for some of my personal blends? Hmm? I already have some little cotton bags for sachets. What are you offering in trade? More pancakes? Some work on Rosa’s shifting foundation? How about a foot massage or two? Hunting down Karen’s cat wherever it’s hiding in this house? Hmm? Come on, what do you have in mind? What are you willing to place on the fair trade table?” LIly rapped on the tabletop with a teaspoon.

Sarge slowly leaned forward as he realized she was serious even though she had the oddest shit eating grin on her face that he’d ever seen. Considering how she’d devoured his pancakes the previous morning he decided to pursue that route of trade and see where it got him.  “How many pancakes do you have in mind, Lily? Would you want them delivered all at once or spread out over a period of time?”

“Even I can only eat so many pancakes at once. Common sense dictates that fresh cakes should be spread out over time. I’ve tried freezing big batches and while they’re not bad reheated, they’re just not the same as fresh off the heat.” She sipped her tea and smiled at him. “Perhaps you’d like to get a whiff of the rest of my collection first? Hmm?”

Sarge raised his eyebrows. “You have a ‘collection’ of good smelling things? I have choices?”

Lilly grinned and nodded energetically. “Oh yes, Sarge, you definitely have choices when it comes to Lily’s personal scents.” She set down her cup and beckoned him with one hooked finger to follow her into the book room. “Have some velvet and I’ll be right back.”

Completely caught up in his curiosity and hoping  Lily really did have more of the sorts of scents that were doing wonderful things for his state of being, Sarge laid claim to one end of the red couch and watched her disappear into the small room that served as her walk-in closet. A few moments later she came out carrying a large wooden box and wearing a wicked pleased smile on her face. She set the box between them on the couch. With a little flourish she opened it revealing dozens of small tightly capped glass jars filled with an assortment of dried plants, bark, flowers, roots, grasses, seeds, pine cones, leaves, twigs and even tiny pebbles. “Feel free to sniff to your nose’s content. Find what you like the most. Take your time. We’ll talk more about pancakes later. How about another cup of tea? “

He picked up a jar of petals and nodded. “More tea sounds good. Thank you, Lily.” Twisting off the cap he sniffed once and then again and smiled as he spoke to the jars’ contents. “I have no clue what you are, but I like the way you smell.”

Returning with a fresh cup of gunpowder tea for each of them, Lily nodded ever so slightly in response to the internal gentle voice whispering that the young man had gone straight to the very best bait in the box and had thoroughly hooked himself. She had absolutely no intention of even slightly tugging on the line at all, even if it was thoroughly down into his gullet all on its own. There was no reason to rush or tug when they were already snowbound and more flakes were on the way. It was not lost upon her that she too was caught via being the one at the other end of line.  She didn’t see or sense any reason to complain about this unexpected development. Under the circumstances she figured things ought resolve themselves fairly quickly one way or another.  The way relationship matters between herself and other eligible males had gone the past few years, Lily was all for not wasting time on what didn’t matter and focusing on what did matter to her.

They spent the entire morning exploring the contents of Lily’s wooden box, drinking gunpowder tea and eventually filling several small sachet bags with different mixtures of the things most agreeable to Sarge’s nose. For Lily it was a healthy merging of different locales, times and people. From the start it was clear that Sarge was seriously intent on finding scents that would help him relax physically and mentally.. He explained to her how he already had made effective use of several breathing techniques in conjunction with mindfulness and awareness of his reactions to a variety of stress triggers. Lily listened closely, but did not probe what she  understood as his efforts to deal with unspecified things he couldn’t change but encountered frequently in general, a great many of which seemed to have direct connections to family affairs.

Realizing the man was in earnest regarding dealing with such things on multiple levels piqued Lily’s interest further, yet she did no more than listen to whatever he was willing to share. There was no reason to push or rush him to talk until he was ready.  A momentary glance at the windows confirmed that the density of the falling snowflakes was increasing. There was no need for any further verbal pressure assaults like the one in the back seat of the taxi. The process of getting to know one another was well underway.  From Lily’s perspective, Sarge was showing potential for far more than being The Man With A Plan To Fix Rosa’s House.

After they’d mixed together several different blends for sachet bags he could either wear on a soft cotton string around his neck or carry in a pocket then the pancake trade was discussed.  The few remaining from the previous day’s breakfast were polished off during a midday meal composed of leftovers which also included the remains of the chicken soup. Being in agreement that more soup was indeed in order, they commenced making another large pot of it without noticing that a hearty blizzard was well underway outside. Once the soup was left to breathe on the stove,  there were children to tutor and books to read. They gently slipped into a fine mellow flow after the busy intensity of the previous days.


Breakfast Special, #18, “Fore Play”

“You’re Not Alone” ~ Michael Bucher’s Music Medicine for Sacred Grounds

Lovely how one thing leads to another and another and then again another–and they’re all connected back and forth along the spider’s steel webs.  Being the curious cat that I am watching one video on the Wild Horse Channel just wasn’t enough. Had to ear sniff more of them.  O those Spanish mustang are so engaging!  Well, eventually my ears caught wind of Michael Bucher’s music video on the channel.  That discovery led to more cyberswamp exploration to Bucher’s website where there’s more for your ears’ feasting. O and if you tweet there’s a free music download. Yep, there is.  So today my flow has gone from Facebook to Horses to Film to Music and it all traverses sacred ground in some form. I was going to save this post for another day until I viewed the “You’re Not Alone” video and considered some of the content. Figure it’s best to not save it for another day.  There’s music and videos on Bucher’s website and links to “You Are Not Alone” for suicide prevention connections. Everything needed for connecting is provided .

Bucher’s connections include history, sacred sites, Indian graves, suicide, healing  and –got the drift?  Pay it forward.

You Are Not Alone,  Native American Youth suicide prevention site

“Don’t Forget About Me”





Petition to Rescind 20 Medals of Honor awarded to soldiers of the USA Army at Wounded Knee in 1890

Discovered this petition on the book of faces this morning:


We petition the Obama administration to:

Rescind 20 Medals of Honor awarded to soldiers of the U.S. Army 7th Cavalry in 1890 at Wounded Knee.

Rescind 20 Medals of Honor awarded to soldiers of the U.S. Army 7th Cavalry who participated in the slaughter of 300 or so Lakota Sioux, mostly unarmed women and children (approximately 200) at Wounded Knee on December, 29 1890.

Require all federal agencies and arms to refer to the Wounded Knee Massacre as a “Massacre” and not a “Battle or Battlefield.”

Help us rewrite history and forge a better way forward. We do not remember these tragedies to hurt, we remember to heal. We are facing the holocaust head strong, we are coming through it. We are lifting our heads and reclaiming our dignity.


Link to petition to President Obama regarding a request to rescind the Medals of Honor awarded USA Army soldiers at Wounded Knee in 1890.

May these “holy days” be gifted with healing.

Namaste to all living be-ings everywhere.

Medicine Buddha

More Art Energy Flows for Growing Children a la Allen …


More on the power of Art’s energy–this time via BigSurKate’s featured artist post.

Dave Allen's "Mirage"

On BigSurKate’s blog is another of Dave Allen’s wonderful paintings inspired by the natural world–The Magnificent Sea–the world so clearly full of creative energy manifesting in all things.  What I found even more intriguing than Dave’s gorgeous art was the story he shares regarding the power of Art, creative expression, to be a positive influence. He tells a true story regarding his interaction with a boy who responds with incredible immediate intensity to the chance to channel his energy into an artistic medium.  You can find the whole story at BigKateSur’s blog casa–along with some very obliging does and news about what’s the haps in Big Sur country —>>>

I’m very conscious of the flow of the energy from the natural world as it influences my own visual art — and often inspires my word art.  It’s clear from the way Leslie White, who also teaches art,  engages her subjects that she too has an influential connection to the flow of energy from nature.  There’s no denying that Dave Allen is  in tune with the world of energy washing his everyday world.  When this manifests in depictions of the natural world the connection seems obvivious. I think that even when the manisfestation is not a representation of nature that the same creative energy is at work and flowing freely in all acts of creation.  Do you go with the energy flow? 

Leslie White’s students seem to —>>

To cross or not to cross, such is the quest.



   Will we cross from the dark side to the light? Will we strive to create sustainable lifeways that are  mutually beneficial to all living beings and Earth? Will we honor this planet for all it offers for life? Will we walk the bridge to another way of thinking, being, seeing or will we stubbornly cling to what does not work, cannot sustain, and will destroy ourselves? Shall we change and dream new worlds or die in our own waste? The choice is ours–yours, mine, and theirs. Don’t wait for leadership from the “powers that be”. It’s not coming. They don’t get “it”. Lead. Now.

Calling all energy-workers


Calling all energy-workers for all the positive force possible to muster for the protection of our planet. Please focus our efforts today and every day forward on healing our Earth.  The time is now, not later.  It’s time to give back something in return for all we have taken while living on this world.

Shanti Om

« Older entries

Agitate, Educate, and Organize ~OO~


Adaptation. Mitigation. Justice.

Incidental Makyo

a place for reflective expression.

Shechaim's News of the Day

Warfarin, Coumadin, Jantoven, Eliquis, Aspirin?

Free Alabama Movement

National Movement Against Mass Incarceration and Prison Slavery

Books Can Save A Life

"Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive." Barry Lopez

The Greenery

Ideas That Grow and Bloom

The Case for Global Film

Films from everywhere and every era


Wellness Leadership Education

Tales from the Conspiratum

Warning: This site may contain conspiracies

Make No Bones About It

The Quest for the Truth

Beyond Extreme Energy

No new permits for fossil fuel infrastructure. Renewable energy NOW.

Mugilan Raju

Prime my subconscious, one hint at a time

Cheri Lucas Rowlands

Editor in Northern California. Interested in tiny things, nineties nostalgia, old jungle mixtapes, punctuation, and my cats. Not to be fed after midnight.

Interesting Literature

A Library of Literary Interestingness

Portraits of Wildflowers

Perspectives on Nature Photography

Science Fiction and Other Suspect Ruminations

Reviews of Vintage Science Fiction (1950s to mid-1980s)

Cynthia Reyes

The blog of Canadian author Cynthia Reyes


Uniting the world, One Love at a time. :D

The Stay-at-home Scientist

Science, Gardening, Work-Life Balance

People Powered Machines

Our business is committed to saving energy, reducing emmissions and waste.


Just another site


". . . first hand coverage, second hand news"

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Jack Kerouac with a scent of Henry Vaughn

Army at Wounded Knee

A blog dedicated to documenting through primary sources, the Army's actions at Wounded Knee


Vague Meanderings of the Broke and Obscure


Stories and Essays by Isaac Yuen

Red Wolf Journal

A literary compass for finding your voice..."You turn toward me, your lips move, wanting to speak."--Stephen Dobyns, "Wolves In The Street"


The poet can reach where the sun cannot. -HINDU PROVERBThe greatest site in all the land!


Working together to make the world a better place to live! A fine site

Spirit In Action

Change IS coming. WE can make it GOOD.

Rezinate's Blog

Just another site

Through the Peacock's Eyes

Insights for Spiritual Living


Living Mental Health Rehab in Israel

the zen space

a space for zen words

We Write Poems

a community of people reading & writing poems, moving words


Bringing Social Issues To The Forefront

R. L. Culpeper

Sapere Aude


For Peace On Earth In This Generation


You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

Eléctrica in the Desert

News, photos, stories, and trouble from the borderland