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pjila'si ᥫ᭡.
kwe’~ my name is omodei. this is a space for all of my excess writing that doesn’t fit the character limits of other platforms- alongside some of my photography, beadwork, fiber art, and occasional spiritual work that I wish to share. please feel free to reach out, if ever needed! I appreciate your time being here. much love. ✽
Cedar woven hats with metallic overlay. Nicole Carle (Tlingit). Kenai, Alaska. via Nicole Carle Creations on Facebook
Puzzle pouch —“ Beaded bag, Northeast Woodland type, likely Haudenosaunee. Glass beads, black velvet fabric and silk ribbon edge binding. 7.6 inches high by 6.8 inches wide. Circa 1830s. Similar to a bag in the Rochester Museum and Science Center, Rochester, NY (#C268) that is attributed to the Seneca of Buffalo Creek.”
sending you some love, strength and light. I'm so sorry that you feel hopeless and have to deal with such a stressful situation.
thank you, i’m okay 🫶🏼 it’s just one of those seasons of life where things are hitting hard. i just hope to see change, is all. i deeply appreciate the love and kindness, it really does mean a ton. thank you so much 💕
i am so exhausted by every ounce of our modern existence. my phone is nothing more than a soul sucking void that sends me spiraling at every stupid scroll. you wake up and the first thing you see is the murder of an innocent woman. you scroll again, and it’s a 50k luxury bag haul. you scroll again, and it’s someone begging for aid during a genocide in a foreign country. you scroll again, and it’s a makeup tutorial for a glitter cut crease look. one more scroll after that, and now it’s a new pov of that same woman from this morning- being murdered in broad daylight.
they didn’t even let a doctor try to help her. she bled out.
you scroll again.
and again.
and again.
this is all that our existence has become. constant fucking algorithmic feeds of nonsense sprinkled in amongst absolute horror that sticks with you for life. and even when you do put that damn phone down- that’s not removing you from the other daily forms of horror that is constantly moving throughout our daily experiences. when the screen is off, i’m still one paycheck away from homelessness. my loved ones are worried, picking rent over medication. 5pm hits and now i’m questioning if i’ll have enough food for the week if i cook too much tonight. i’m worried ill get sick again this month too, if i stress too much, and my immune system remains too weak from my last period of severe flu sickness.
i don’t even have health insurance. i can’t get sick again.
i’m tired.
so fucking tired bro
Oakland Tribune, California, January 1, 1922
A turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) stretches its wings in North Carolina, USA
by Paul Bartels
