mama: “oog. look at your hands.”

oog look down. dirt under fingernails. red clay from riverbank stuck in palm line.

oog: “clean enough.”

mama take oog hand. put her own hand right next to it. hers smaller. turned brown and tough like old leather hide.

she press her palm flat against oog palm. oog hand bigger now. thicker.

mama: “when you baby, your hand fit inside oog father thumb.”

oog: “mama. oog grown man now. hunting big stag.”

mama quiet. she trace the scar on oog index finger. the one oog got when oog eight winter old, trying to carve stick with broken flint.

mama: “you think because you big, mama don’t see the eight winter boy inside? mama put that skin together. every time you hurt, mama remember where the seam is.”

oog look at mama small, rough hand still holding big, stupid oog hand.

you spend whole life trying to grow up, trying to show whole tribe you strong. then mama look at your scar and you remember: somebody watched you bleed before you knew what blood was. somebody held the whole piece together until it stuck.

love, oog

magic berries oog collect today:

berry 1:

"For things to reveal themselves to us, we need to be ready to abandon our views about them."

— Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace

berry 2:

Escaping Flatland

A list of books and essays that I love

I thought it’d be fun to do a series where I answer questions, or write essays in reaction to prompts you give me. This essay is the first attempt…

Read more

10 months ago · 805 likes · 10 comments · Henrik Karlsson

berry 3:

dak: “oog, bee sting bad. maybe not worth it.”

oog already climbing, smoke-bundle in hand.

dak: “OOG.”

oog get three sting on arm, one on neck, but come down holding whole broken piece of comb, honey running down oog’s wrist.

walk back to cave. koom see the honey and his whole face happen at once... eyes, mouth, everything.

oog let koom have first taste. koom’s noise when he taste it is a noise oog never heard koom make before. pure noise. no word in it.

dak: “still think it was worth three sting?”

oog look at koom’s honey-covered grin.

oog: “dak. some pain you earn on purpose. so somebody else’s face can do THAT.”

love, oog

magic berries oog collect today:

berry 1:

Experimental History

You can't reach the brain through the ears

I used to get free room and board in exchange for telling students not to go to Oxford…

Read more

3 years ago · 392 likes · 91 comments · Adam Mastroianni

berry 2:

berry 3:

mama sitting in hot sun outside cave mouth. she legs crossed in dirt, teeth holding one end of deer hide, hands twisting it tight into leather string. rip... pull... twist. mama do this every sun. mama hands look like tree bark, but they fast.

oog sitting on rock behind her, chewing on sweet grass. sun hit mama head. she glowing like sun.

suddenly oog see something shiny in her black hair. oog think it morning spider web from the bushes.

oog reach down. wrap fingers around the shiny string. pull.

mama: “ow! oog what you doing? mama lose the twist now!”

oog look at the hair in hand. it not black like river mud. it white. white like winter snow on high mountain. white like dead bone.

oog: “mama hair turning into ash.”

mama freeze. deer hide drop from her teeth into dirt. she reach up with greasy fingers, touch top of her own head. mama face look... strange. quiet. like she see great white spirit in the trees.

mama: “how many, oog? tell mama true.”

oog look close at her head. search between the black.

oog: “just one, mama. right here. near the ear.”

mama turn face toward river. watch water go past rock. water never go backward. water only go down. she look at river long time.

mama: “oog. mama remember when mama was youngest girl in tribe. could run up steep ridge carrying whole deer on back without losing breath. elder grak call mama ‘the wind.’ now... wind stopping. hair turning to ash. time moving too fast, oog. it like sabertooth chasing us from behind.”

oog feel something cold sit heavy in belly. like oog swallowed river ice. mama not suppose to change. papa not suppose to get slow. mamas and papas suppose to stay same forever like the big stone walls of cave. oog feel small. suddenly oog not twenty-two winters. oog feel like five, like koom. oog kneel down in dirt. put heavy head right on mama lap. right where the deer hide was.

mama hand come down on oog neck. smell like old smoke and grease.

oog: “ash hair mean mama fire burn long time. fire that burn hot and fast make too much smoke, then go dark. but fire that burn long make best coals. cave stay warm for chuk and fru and zul and koom because of mama ash. you not losing the wind, mama. you just keeping the cave warm.”

mama touch oog cheek. her thumb rough like flint stone. her hand shake a little bit. just a little bit.

young hoomans think parents are big mountains that never move, never shake, never fall down. but they not mountains. they just hoomans running same race against the sun, legs getting tired, lungs getting heavy.

hold your old hoomans tight today. sit next to their fire. breathe their smoke. before the whole mountain turn to snow and the cave go cold.

love, oog

4 magic berries oog collect today……

magic berry 1:

magic berry 2:

magic berry 3:

magic berry 4:

more magic berries here:

Sublime (build your digital garden).

c u soon my dear hooman!!!

why oog make cave painting when oog could just EAT and SLEEP?

why oog tell story to little oog when oog could just be QUIET?

why oog build family when oog could just be ALONE and easy?

because oog KNOW. deep down oog KNOW. oog not here long. but painting stay. story travel. family continue.

love is oog answer to death. not winning against death. but SNEAKING PAST death. leaving piece of oog in everything oog touch with care.

magic berries oog found in forest:

🫐 magic berry 1.
🫐 magic berry 2.
🫐 magic berry 3.
🫐 magic berry 4.
🫐 magic berry 5.

love, oog

other ants come help. together they move mountain-crumb.

oog think: why ant not give up? ant not know word “impossible.” ant just know crumb need moving.

baby learn walk same way. fall hundred times. laugh. try again. baby not know falling supposed to be bad thing.

but grown-up human sit on couch. say “too hard.” say “maybe tomorrow.” grown-up forget secret that ant and baby know:

life not care if you ready.

life just need you to try.

even when crumb bigger than you.

love, oog

Subscribe now