Mitico

l1012b: Ehtheogenic Journey : “Skin Of The Anaconda -...

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 03:58:01 -0500

Ehtheogenic Journey :

“Skin Of The Anaconda - Ronin Bishi”

Ayahuasca trip simulation

newtribeearth: Manifesting The Mind – Footprints of the Shaman...

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 07:50:07 -0500

Manifesting The Mind – Footprints of the Shaman (2009), a documentary on Psychedelics & Shamanism from ‘Bouncing Bear Films’ featuring interviews with renowned experts such as Daniel Pinchbeck, John Major Jenkins, Dennis McKenna, Nick Herbert, Alex Grey & Dr. Rick Strassman to name a few. This is the first release from Bouncing Bear Films which comprises of Andrew & Jennifer Rutajit and all other folks from Bouncing Bear Botanicals. ‘Manifesting The Mind’ gives us a broad perspective on psychedelics, how we can benefit from them and why is the use of psychedelics suppressed by the mainstream media and governments of the world.

Watch the full movie here:

http://newtribeearth.wordpress.com/2013/02/04/manifesting-the-mind-footprints-of-the-shaman-2009/

Photo

Fri, 29 Jun 2012 02:05:04 -0400

Nutrition

Fri, 29 Jun 2012 02:00:51 -0400

Nutrition

The Rock

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 02:12:20 -0400

The heat is impossible to bare. The small strip of sand like on any italian beach is full with people. I try to escape into the shallow sea but its blue waters are inaccessible. People play volleyball, lie lazy on floating mattress near the shore or simply stand at hip high in the sea, talking and looking at others.

The sun burns my skin and its reflection on the crystal waters blinds me.

I then close my eyes and remember those endless summer days at the rock, playing volleyball and chasing girls.

A normal day at the rock.

Ficus

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 02:06:21 -0400

Going around my village i see something that hasn’t disappeared from my childhood. A giant ficus in the small patch of land, once filled with grapes now used by olive trees.

My favourite time was the tomato sauce making.

Early start for the men, at 4 am to go and prepare the fire, tools and collect the tomatoes. The ‘women’ would arrive later, clean the recipients, make breakfast for us and start to prepare lunch. My father and uncle were in charge of boiling the tomatoes, being shouted at by my sturdy grandfather who with benevolent look and mighty hands ordered me to collect the water from the pit, turn the handle at the tomato squeezer or fill the cocacola bottle with basil.

The sun always made all this work hard but we kids were allowed to ‘forget’ the job and we enjoyed cruelty towards the bothering flies that filled the small country barn.

At 2p after 10 hour work, the filled bottles where cooking at a low fire in a massive half open barril for at least 24 hours.

The family gathered under the mighty ficus, eating, singing and eventually falling asleep in whatever position one was. I remember my grandfather head tilted backwards, flies circulating around his wine smelling mouth and me enjoying the sleep on a tractor under the ficus.

Salty lips

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:56:00 -0400

I am trapped on a small patch of sand between a turquoise, calm transparent water and a million years old sand dunes where, low green spiky plant survive the constant erosion from the scorching sun.

The sun is the king of a blue, blue sky. The ‘big strip’ as local call this beach is the only one which stands on an open bay where the wind raises in the afternoons and there no houses around. It makes this place relaxed and empty and you have time to search your soul.

My lips taste the salty waters while i wish a sweet kiss would clear them.

Salty thoughts from Pulsano.

Primordial seas

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:49:58 -0400

The sea in its perpetual change has been on earth for millions years.

As a child the first time i went to the sea i gave my body and soul to it; i became part of it and the sea entered in me.

I am drawn to follow the same steps, feel the same joy, now just like the first time.

When i come back to the first sea, the one i have got in me my body recognise it elevating itself to happiness and calm.

The waves salute me, the sand exchange its warmth and softness with me.

I am at home, a house that makes me happy

A silver green carpet

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:44:28 -0400

The airplane struggles down the heavy clouds.

It sees a gap and makes its way to land. This land has a beautiful silver green color. Hundreds of thousand of olive trees fill every free space.

From the port town of Brindisi a badly kept motorway has been designed amidst olive trees that have seen changes for centuries.

The still heavenly blue sky irradiate the power of the sun on those beautiful oval shaped translucent leaves.

There is joy in the car, a family has been reunited, while Monteiasi, my little town is being approached.

Are we strange?

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:37:40 -0400

I really believe that mankind can endure anything it wants to.

The queue at Pisa airport for a two hours delayed Ryanair flight to Brindisi is long.

The queue hasn’t moved for the las 3 hours.

Not everybody will get a window or an aisle seatyet they stand.

Pain is visible but nothing happens.

Older ladies ask their younger partner to hold them, mothers with babies hold them sweetly without blinking. Fat men with an imposing belly restlessly scrutinise the screen at the horizon. Their alerted eyes capture any movement. Young boys and girls with sunglasses and fashionable attire pretend not to be bothered and plays with their mobile or iphones.

The flight is boarding now, but the long queue stays there moving slow.

Spirits in the night

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 01:30:23 -0400

Endless energy flows in Him.

The happiness in His tired features covered in sweat have reached thousand of fans.

The ‘Cathedral’ has being filled by its believers and a sermon his being told.

The pious attendees have gone early; fanatism makes one forget to eat, sleep, shower.

Like other form of fanatism, this one brings you an indescribable level of joy that cannot be explained unless one has lived it. I am a simple observer in all this, one that struggles to put words to the mesmerized faces that i see.

I am dancing on the notes of ‘spirit in the night’; San Siro is one stop closer to God while ‘the Boss’ on his stiff knees is delivering a speech.

The golden prison

Thu, 31 May 2012 03:57:12 -0400

There are screams below, the joy and recklessness of a child is pure.

Parents try to translate the children incomprehensible attitudes but it is useless.

I am enclosed here, not alone but with thoughts and books, imprisoned in other peoples lives with only one thing to do: to think that it is only a dream!!

WAGNER

Thu, 31 May 2012 03:57:00 -0400

I like the name Wagner somehow. This square in Milan is very small. In the evening it is shadowed by the ‘National theatre .

The many roads that surround this square are very busy but the noise it is absorbed by the sound of a fountain and the charming talking of people that sits on the benches.

I have been at different times of the day; in the morning when is very quiet and it is my favorite time, at midday when it is deserted specially if the sun is hitting straight down, in the evening when is very busy with elderly that take time and talk, laughs or simply rest peacefully.

I am exactly at 7pm today and i am looked at suspiciously. It must be because of my long hair and a backpack which gives way to thoughts as if i am a bum, yet i don’t think i look that scruffy, or do i?

I don’t mind, life is also this.

I wonder about them, their lives and their stories.

The earth shakes

Thu, 31 May 2012 03:41:00 -0400

The mountain range is imposing and strong (i never thought i would hope it is solid!), apparently.

The earth shakes at 920am but i cannot realise this because i am in the mountain, in the tunnel and like me the train is unaware of the movement beneath it.

At pianoro station fiction becomes reality.

Few people initially start to move then worry, call their family or try to find a solution which is impossible to get.

They try to find comfort in somebody else moaning or glance even contact.

Everybody is rightly concerned.

I remain closed in the metallic box which is the train carriage, pretending not to be affected by it all.

It may be hours before the Bologna Milan train line is reopen and i just watch, at least for now in total peace, the human propensity to chaos, worry and fear.

The time passes and i still feel ok but i know that soon my protective shield i am in will have to be removed or it will fall.

By then reality will hit me and i will live my truth.

The seller

Thu, 31 May 2012 03:29:09 -0400

Ding, dong! ding, dong!

What a beautiful country Italy is!

Everything changes but all around remains in its decaying beauty.

On the train a small trolley pushed by a man dressed as a waiter with a white shirt and an apron passes by.

Ding dong! ding dong!

He sells good coffee and snack and few people buy his goods.

Where does he live? how far does he go?

It doesn’t matter .

Ding dong! ding dong!

The flat sea

Thu, 31 May 2012 03:13:04 -0400

Grey like the sky today,

a mirror where the dark clouds change color

and

a few sails floats effortles on the calm waters

There is a salty smell coming from the shores that fills my nostrils. It is the smell of life.

The train goesn on, it goes on

Pictures

Thu, 31 May 2012 02:59:00 -0400

We left the huge plains where Milan stands alone before the Alps.

Silently i have gone through tunnels that gave birth to green hill that from the sky looks like wavey forms that shape the sand when the sea retreats.

The train, finally arrives to the sea and follows the beach.

At Viareggio a local train climbs slow into a region of walled cities and the air smells of lavander.

Red Tulips

Thu, 31 May 2012 02:32:00 -0400

On the mobile phone a sweet voice catches my thoughts

Oh, my love is it you?

Her breath is heavy and more frequent,

Hi, how are you doing?

She has difficulty in breathing,

I didn’t sleep very well!

There is a big smile on her face; a red flush on her pale cheeks appears while an incomprehensible muttering makes its way in the air.

The train rools down fast.

The words of love continue at every stop down to Lucca.

Her body, a short skirt, worn out sandals, ligt shirt and bare legs follow her heart beat.

The blood rush slows eventually and i can actually feel the clam engulfing her;

‘You are my life’ she says and then the tunnel stops the pain.

Freedom in the night

Fri, 25 May 2012 08:30:02 -0400

A yellow kinko is cruising through the dark streets of my early twenties on a warm spring night. The yellow glow of the street lights and the silence visits places i had almost forgotten after fifteen years of exile.

From Milan to Rho.

Curves, building, bars, traffic lights, prostitues, smell, roads and the solitary vehicles fill my senses as if i am in the future starting from the recent past. My thoughts go back to the different seasons from the hot summer nights to the depressing foggy months to get to those obfuscated nights when my other me brought me back home

What a beautiful ride, twenty minutes of freedom, once again at night!

Pleasure

Fri, 25 May 2012 08:14:35 -0400

We search for pleasure in many different ways.

Sitting anywhere at anytime and feeling the light touch of the sun, enjoying the sensation of warmth that relaxes your body are unique for me.

I stand sitting on the grass, in the shadow while my body falls asleep and the birds sing an uncommon music.

Voices of lazy bodies surround my senses calming my mind while bicycles rattle on the gravel and the sound of a ball being kicked brings me back in time.