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The Nomads Lose Their Way.

The Nomads Lose Their Way.

Mi Madre, and lonesome greenie

jayparkinsonmd:

Here’s a snippet from a wonderfully written piece, called How Doctors Die. Please read all of it.

But doctors still don’t over-treat themselves. They see the consequences of this constantly. Almost anyone can find a way to die in peace at home, and pain can be managed better than ever. Hospice care, which focuses on providing terminally ill patients with comfort and dignity rather than on futile cures, provides most people with much better final days. Amazingly, studies have found that people placed in hospice care often live longer than people with the same disease who are seeking active cures. I was struck to hear on the radio recently that the famous reporter Tom Wicker had “died peacefully at home, surrounded by his family.” Such stories are, thankfully, increasingly common.
Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.
We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was about $20.
Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity. As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors.

The first photo is how many people die nowadays— in a hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors and beeping machines. The second is a self-portrait I took the day my grandmother died peacefully in her own home in July 2009. It’s really up to you to choose.

jayparkinsonmd:

Here’s a snippet from a wonderfully written piece, called How Doctors Die. Please read all of it.

But doctors still don’t over-treat themselves. They see the consequences of this constantly. Almost anyone can find a way to die in peace at home, and pain can be managed better than ever. Hospice care, which focuses on providing terminally ill patients with comfort and dignity rather than on futile cures, provides most people with much better final days. Amazingly, studies have found that people placed in hospice care often live longer than people with the same disease who are seeking active cures. I was struck to hear on the radio recently that the famous reporter Tom Wicker had “died peacefully at home, surrounded by his family.” Such stories are, thankfully, increasingly common.

Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.

We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was about $20.

Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity. As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors.

The first photo is how many people die nowadays— in a hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors and beeping machines. The second is a self-portrait I took the day my grandmother died peacefully in her own home in July 2009. It’s really up to you to choose.

Cyclist via Closeup

I’ve always been in awe of Abbas Kiarostami’s artistry. Ever since I saw Closeup I’ve been thinking about Mohsen Makhmalbaf’s film The Cyclist. Both films and filmmakers have held a kind of dreamy, crafty, auteur place in my headmind. I saw The Cyclist last night. One word: PERSISTENCE. 

SO symbolic. This portrait is beautiful. Keep going!

thebkcircus:

BKc “Green Mile” Shawl Collar Cardigan: A beautifully hand constructed, 100% lambswool knit cardigan, embellished with leather buttons and felt “1920″ BKc applique.

SO symbolic. This portrait is beautiful. Keep going!

thebkcircus:

BKc “Green Mile” Shawl Collar Cardigan: A beautifully hand constructed, 100% lambswool knit cardigan, embellished with leather buttons and felt “1920″ BKc applique.

Singing is integral to my sanity. 

If I feel weird during the day

I sing. 

I used to think… I have these songs

to sing but I don’t know how to 

sing…people are gonna think I’m weird

but then I shared and people were 

like ah, yeah. 

 - Scott Kloos on Plant Songs

 ”Simplicity = Complexity”

- Glen Nagel on The are of Tea

Nicole and Tinder Taking a bow

“My Love lives outside my window.”
- Stevie Wonder on Plants
Plant Medicine Conference This Year Natural College of Natural Medicine

“My Love lives outside my window.”

- Stevie Wonder on Plants

Plant Medicine Conference This Year Natural College of Natural Medicine

MarshmallowAltheaValerianRootCalendulaEchinaceaBonesetGotaKola
all grown in the backyard. 

MarshmallowAltheaValerianRootCalendulaEchinaceaBonesetGotaKola

all grown in the backyard. 

Makers
Believers
Philosophers
Doers
Changers
People

Makers

Believers

Philosophers

Doers

Changers

People

The Nomads Lose Their Way.

The Nomads Lose Their Way.

Mi Madre, and lonesome greenie

jayparkinsonmd:

Here’s a snippet from a wonderfully written piece, called How Doctors Die. Please read all of it.

But doctors still don’t over-treat themselves. They see the consequences of this constantly. Almost anyone can find a way to die in peace at home, and pain can be managed better than ever. Hospice care, which focuses on providing terminally ill patients with comfort and dignity rather than on futile cures, provides most people with much better final days. Amazingly, studies have found that people placed in hospice care often live longer than people with the same disease who are seeking active cures. I was struck to hear on the radio recently that the famous reporter Tom Wicker had “died peacefully at home, surrounded by his family.” Such stories are, thankfully, increasingly common.
Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.
We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was about $20.
Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity. As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors.

The first photo is how many people die nowadays— in a hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors and beeping machines. The second is a self-portrait I took the day my grandmother died peacefully in her own home in July 2009. It’s really up to you to choose.

jayparkinsonmd:

Here’s a snippet from a wonderfully written piece, called How Doctors Die. Please read all of it.

But doctors still don’t over-treat themselves. They see the consequences of this constantly. Almost anyone can find a way to die in peace at home, and pain can be managed better than ever. Hospice care, which focuses on providing terminally ill patients with comfort and dignity rather than on futile cures, provides most people with much better final days. Amazingly, studies have found that people placed in hospice care often live longer than people with the same disease who are seeking active cures. I was struck to hear on the radio recently that the famous reporter Tom Wicker had “died peacefully at home, surrounded by his family.” Such stories are, thankfully, increasingly common.

Several years ago, my older cousin Torch (born at home by the light of a flashlight—or torch) had a seizure that turned out to be the result of lung cancer that had gone to his brain. I arranged for him to see various specialists, and we learned that with aggressive treatment of his condition, including three to five hospital visits a week for chemotherapy, he would live perhaps four months. Ultimately, Torch decided against any treatment and simply took pills for brain swelling. He moved in with me.

We spent the next eight months doing a bunch of things that he enjoyed, having fun together like we hadn’t had in decades. We went to Disneyland, his first time. We’d hang out at home. Torch was a sports nut, and he was very happy to watch sports and eat my cooking. He even gained a bit of weight, eating his favorite foods rather than hospital foods. He had no serious pain, and he remained high-spirited. One day, he didn’t wake up. He spent the next three days in a coma-like sleep and then died. The cost of his medical care for those eight months, for the one drug he was taking, was about $20.

Torch was no doctor, but he knew he wanted a life of quality, not just quantity. Don’t most of us? If there is a state of the art of end-of-life care, it is this: death with dignity. As for me, my physician has my choices. They were easy to make, as they are for most physicians. There will be no heroics, and I will go gentle into that good night. Like my mentor Charlie. Like my cousin Torch. Like my fellow doctors.

The first photo is how many people die nowadays— in a hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors and beeping machines. The second is a self-portrait I took the day my grandmother died peacefully in her own home in July 2009. It’s really up to you to choose.

Cyclist via Closeup

I’ve always been in awe of Abbas Kiarostami’s artistry. Ever since I saw Closeup I’ve been thinking about Mohsen Makhmalbaf’s film The Cyclist. Both films and filmmakers have held a kind of dreamy, crafty, auteur place in my headmind. I saw The Cyclist last night. One word: PERSISTENCE. 

SO symbolic. This portrait is beautiful. Keep going!

thebkcircus:

BKc “Green Mile” Shawl Collar Cardigan: A beautifully hand constructed, 100% lambswool knit cardigan, embellished with leather buttons and felt “1920″ BKc applique.

SO symbolic. This portrait is beautiful. Keep going!

thebkcircus:

BKc “Green Mile” Shawl Collar Cardigan: A beautifully hand constructed, 100% lambswool knit cardigan, embellished with leather buttons and felt “1920″ BKc applique.

Singing is integral to my sanity. 

If I feel weird during the day

I sing. 

I used to think… I have these songs

to sing but I don’t know how to 

sing…people are gonna think I’m weird

but then I shared and people were 

like ah, yeah. 

 - Scott Kloos on Plant Songs

 ”Simplicity = Complexity”

- Glen Nagel on The are of Tea

Nicole and Tinder Taking a bow

“My Love lives outside my window.”
- Stevie Wonder on Plants
Plant Medicine Conference This Year Natural College of Natural Medicine

“My Love lives outside my window.”

- Stevie Wonder on Plants

Plant Medicine Conference This Year Natural College of Natural Medicine

MarshmallowAltheaValerianRootCalendulaEchinaceaBonesetGotaKola
all grown in the backyard. 

MarshmallowAltheaValerianRootCalendulaEchinaceaBonesetGotaKola

all grown in the backyard. 

Makers
Believers
Philosophers
Doers
Changers
People

Makers

Believers

Philosophers

Doers

Changers

People

About:

Hello, my name is Kalimah Abioto. I've been experimenting with film and video, stories, and the interview process for seven years now.
I love learning about plants,music, people, imaginary realities and traveling the world. Outside of these things there's alot more I love to do as well. This site is in part a showcase of mywork & projects. I work with my four sisters. We are known as The People Could Fly or PCF Media Productions.
If you would like to work with me and/ or the team and contract with the PCF for photo, video, or creative consulting please check out the PCF Media Services page and send me an email.


Here we are on Earth
Always...
Always seeing. Always Magic. Always FoEVER.
Always Special. In Heart. In Mind.In Body. In Space. No Weight. Invisible.VISIBLE.
Til we meet again...
Head over to www.thepeoplefly.com or www.flierarts.com to continue

Cheers to Life!

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