Category Archives: HEAD

When you have a bee in your bonnet your head feels big, but when on your knees in prayer your heads feels little.

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“By the end of the seventies, some nights I was so out of it our road manager, Joe Baptista, would have to carry me onstage. The promoter would be sitting there in the dressing room with a look of horror on his face. I’m almost comatose, he’s hyper-ventilating. He thinks he’s presenting the legendary cash cow Aerosmith, and now he’s going to lose his shirt because the lead singer’s down for the count. Is he dead or alive? What am I going to do? “You’d better get him on that stage. I don’t know how he’s going to do this how, but we’ve got too many kids out there.”

Not to worry. The minute my feet hit the stage, I’m off and running. I don’t know how it happens, but hey, you get up there in front of twenty thousand people and it’s a high in itself, it’s a charged space.

Still, the train kept a rollin’ and we kept getting high until one night in late ’78, I don’t know where we were, maybe in Springfield, Illinois, I blacked out in the middle of “Reefer Headed Woman.”

I got a reefer headed woman
She fell right down from the sky
Well, I got to drink me two fifths of whiskey
Just to get half as high
When the —

And then I hit the stage like a fish out of water.”

Steven Tyler, Does the Noise in My Head Bother You?

Talking about Zen all the time is like looking for fish tracks in a dry riverbed. Wu-Tzu



Please Call Me by My True Names

Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow –even today I am still arriving.Look deeply: every second I am arriving to be a bud on a Spring branch,to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,learning to sing in my new nest,to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,to fear and to hope.The rhythm of my heart is the birth and deathof all that is alive.I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river.And I am the birdthat swoops down to swallow the mayfly.I am the frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond.And I am the grass-snakethat silently feeds itself on the frog.I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.And I am the arms merchant,selling deadly weapons to Uganda.I am the twelve-year-old girl,refugee on a small boat,who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate.And I am the pirate,my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.I am a member of the politburo,with plenty of power in my hands.And I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to my people dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.My joy is like Spring, so warmit makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.My pain is like a river of tears,so vast it fills the four oceans.Please call me by my true names,so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,so I can see that my joy and pain are one.Please call me by my true names,so I can wake up,and so the door of my heart can be left open,the door of compassion.

A good head and a good heart are always a formidable combination.

– Nelson Mandela

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“The Queen had only one way of setting all difficulties, great or small. “Off with his head!” she said without even looking round.”

― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

The thing under my bed waiting to grab my ankle isn’t real. I know that, and I also know that if I’m careful to keep my foot under the covers, it will never be able to grab my ankle.

― Stephen King, Night Shift

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“It didn’t seem the right time to tell him where the worst monsters hide. They conceal themselves cleverly inside our heads and wait for the moments we’re at our most vulnerable – bedtime, or when we’re sick or anxious.”
― Helen Brown, Cleo

There are spiders living comfortably in my house while the wind howls outside. They aren’t bothering anybody. If I were a fly, I’d have second thoughts, but I’m not, so I don’t.

― Richard Brautigan, The Tokyo-Montana Express


“A spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken threads and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years and years and years…”

Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It

BULGARIAN FOLK-SONGS Dig me the grave with your noble swords, Over my head, O comrades, place a fountain, Over my feet plant a shady tree, That an aged wanderer may have rest beneath it, That he may rest and think awhile of me. That a young traveller coming to the fountain May refresh his horse with the sparkling water, That he too may rest and think awhile of me. Whispering my name and my sorry fate.

"The shade of the Balkans: being a collection of Bulgarian folksongs and proverbs"

jonphilbh 006

"Be Silent yourself, that will induce Silence in others. Do not fall into the habit of shouting, talking long and loud. Reduce contacts to the minimum. Carry with you an atmosphere of quiet contemplation, wherever you happen to be. The less you talk, the more will become your mental power. With the increase in your mental capacity, there will be increase in your power of discrimination too. Consequently, you will give up individual discrimination . Because of this, you will begin to consider the good of the world at large rather than your own individual welfare. You must cultivate such broad feelings from this young age itself."


Do not be breakin’ a shin on a stool that’s not in your way. (Irish).

"Curiosities in Proverbs: A Collection of Unusual Adages, Maxims, Aphorisms, Phrases and Other …"


If the tail breaks, your head will know who darkened the hole. (Gaelic)

foto – corral raleigh