Dogs are wonderful companions all their own, but they can also help change your life so that you're more accepting of new friendships. A new study studied how dogs' brains responded to the human voice and found that “the human brain responds to dog emotions the same way it responds to human emotions” and that the dog's brain does the same.

    Dogs are pack animals, so in terms of pet ownership, your dog will prefer to stay with you rather than somewhere alone. Think about how this concept applies to friendship. People today are getting more and more used to spending time on social networking, email, and text. While all methods of communication are good, there is nothing like seeing your friends and hearing their voice. With good friends, sometimes a look explains everything, and you can only get this when you're together hanging out in person.

    Let's face it, dogs never hide their feeling. They let you know what they enjoy doing most, whether it is chasing a ball, going for a walk, or getting a treat. For people, it's harder to be open with your emotions. But in order to truly find a friend, you'll need to let go of your fears and put trust into your friends. The reality is that you'll never make everyone you meet happy one-hundred percent of the time, so if your friends and family think you're great, put aside the need to be liked by everyone.

    Dogs wait for you to come home and are so happy to see you again that they practically do a happy dance when you walk through the door. Friends, on the other hand, are sometimes so busy that even hearing from a friend becomes an unwelcome interruption. Rather than avoid calls or emails, make a point to talk to friends on a regular basis.

    I began writing poems fifteen years ago while I was in college. One day I was in the library, working on a term paper, when I came across a book of contemporary poetry. I don't remember the title of the book or any of the titles of the poems except one: “Frankenstein's Daughter.” The poem was wild, almost rude, and nothing like the rhyme-and-meter poetry I had read in high school. I had always thought that poetry was flowery writing about sunsets and walks on the beach, but that library book contained direct and sometimes shocking poetry about dogs, junked cars, rundown houses, and TVs. I checked the book out, curious to read more.

    Soon afterward, I started filling a notebook with my own poems. At first I was scared, partly because my poetry teacher, to whom this book is written for, was a serious and strict man who could see the errors in my poems. Also, I realized the seriousness of my devotion. I gave up geography to study poetry, which a good many friends said offered no future. I ignored them because I liked working with words, using them to reconstruct the past, which has always been a source of poetry for me.

    When I first studied poetry, I was single-minded. I woke to poetry and went to bed with poetry. I memorized poems, read English poets because I was told they would help shape my poems, and read classical Chinese poetry because I was told that it would add clarity to my work. But I was most taken by the Spanish and Latin American poets, particularly Pablo Neruda. My favorites of his were the odes ― long, short-lined poems celebrating common things like tomatoes, socks and scissors. I felt joyful when I read these odes, and when I began to write my own poems, I tried to remain faithful to the common things of my childhood — dogs, alleys (小巷), my baseball mitt (手套) and the fruit of the valley, especially the orange. I wanted to give these things life, to write so well that my poems would express their beauty.

    I also admired our own country's poetry. I saw that our poets often wrote about places where they grew up or places that impressed them deeply. James Wright wrote about Ohio and West Virginia, Philip Levine about Detroit, Gary Snyder about the Sierra Nevadas and about Japan, where for years he studied Zen Buddhism (禅宗佛教). I decided to write about the San Joaquin Valley, where my hometown, Fresno, is located. Some of my poems are absolute observations and images of nature — the orange yards, the Kings River, the Sequoias (红杉). I fell in love with the valley, both its ugliness and its beauty, and quietly wrote poems about it to share with others.

    Cities usually have a good reason for being where they are, like a nearby port or river. People settle in these places because they are easy to get to and naturally suited to communications and trade. New York City, for example, is near a large harbour at the mouth of the Hudson River. Over 300 years its population grew gradually from 800 people to 8 million. But not all cities develop slowly over a long period of time. Boom towns grow from nothing almost overnight. In 1896, Dawson, Canada, was unmapped wilderness(荒野). But gold was discovered there in 1897, and two years later, it was one of the largest cities in the West, with a population of 30,000.

    Dawson did not have any of the natural conveniences of cities like London or Paris. People went there for gold. They travelled over snow-covered mountains and sailed hundreds of miles up icy rivers. The path to Dawson was covered with thirty feet of wet snow that could fall without warming. An avalanche(雪崩) once closed the path, killing 63 people. For many who made it to Dawson, however, the rewards were worth the difficult trip. Of the first 20,000 people who dug for gold, 4,000 got rich. About 100 of these stayed rich men for the rest of their lives.

    But no matter how rich they were, Dawson was never comfortable. Necessities like food and wood were very expensive. But soon, the gold that Dawson depended on had all been found. The city was crowded with disappointed people with no interest in settling down, and when they heard there were new gold discoveries in Alaska, they left Dawson City as quickly as they had come. Today, people still come and go — to see where the Canadian gold rush happened. Tourism is now the chief industry of Dawson City — its present population is 762.

    Five thousand square meters of old damaged cars, motorcycles and boats fill this junkyard. For a casual onlooker, this might be a very sad sight. But for Andy, it's a real treasure. "I've been a junk hoarder (囤积者) for my whole life and I like fixing up what shouldn't be thrown away. Around 200 old cars end up in this junkyard every week. Some of them are sold for parts, others get repaired, and still others are beyond repair."

    His father Bobby started the business some 50 years ago and still spends every morning there. The father and son have very different approaches to their work. They got a Dean cab that was getting thrown away and that was the father's project, which Andy did not want him to do. "He did basically the opposite of everything I told him and I think he did it just to make me mad. He dumped a ton of money into this car, but in the end it wouldn't run." Andy said jokingly.

    The unusual family business attracted the attention of a TV crew. That's how the show Janka Empire came to be featured on a network of the Discovery Channel. This show, five years of shooting, five seasons and 60 episodes (集), is popular. "There are hundreds of junkyards throughout the United States. I think what's interesting is that it is a family business. My father and I started the business and we joke very well back and forth and I think that's what people like. The cars that end up at the junkyard come out with endless surprises. See, this was a junk car and we restored it with a blown motor. Yet I don't get a chance to ride around it too often. Because despite its shining appearance, the noise of the engine is truly deafening and I worry my neighbors will not put up with it."

High-Wire Act

    Mickey Wilson had been on the mountain only a few seconds when he heard the scream. Wilson, 28 years old, had just gotten off the cable car (索道缆车) at the Arapahoe Basin Ski Area in Keystone, Colorado, along with his friends Billy Simmons and Hans Mueller. Their friend Richard had been on the cable car ahead of them, but when the men reached the top of the lift, he had disappeared. The men walked toward the source of the scream and found skiers stopped on the slope, pointing to the cable car. And then the friends screamed too.

    "Oh, Richard!" yelled Mueller.

    When Richard had tried to jump off the cable car, his backpack had been caught in the chair, which then dragged him back down the hill. In the process, the backpack belt twisted around his neck, making him breathless. Now Richard's body was swinging four feet above the snow. The cable car operator had quickly stopped it, and the friends kicked off their skis and ran toward the scene. They made a human pyramid to try to reach Richard, but the unconscious man was too far off the ground. With the clock ticking, Wilson ran to the ladder of a nearby lift tower. Scared skiers watched as he struggled the 25 feet. After he reached the top, Wilson's first challenge was to climb onto the two-inch steel cable that held the chairs. He handled the balance and height bravely, but he knew he could not walk on the cable. Therefore, he calmed down and sat over it and then used his hands to pull himself to Richard quickly. Wilson's greatest fear wasn't that he'd fall, but that he wouldn't reach Richard. "This was life or death," he said.

    When he reached Richard's chair, Wilson swung a leg over the cable and attempted to drop down onto it. But as he did that, his jacket caught on the movable footrest, which was in the up position. The footrest began to slide down, with Wilson attached. But before that could happen, he managed to free himself and reached Richard.

    Fortunately, the ski patrol (巡查) had gathered below and performed emergency treatment on Richard, who had been hanging for about five minutes, then skied him down to an ambulance.

    That night, Richard called from the hospital to express his thanks to Wilson, his other friends and the workers at the Arapahoe Basin Ski Area.

Art therapy (治疗) involves the use of creative techniques such as drawing, painting, coloring, or sculpting to help people express themselves artistically and examine the psychological and emotional undertones. With the guidance of an art therapist, clients car "decode" the nonverbal messages in these art forms, which lead to a better understanding of their feelings and behavior so they can resolve deeper issues.

Art therapy helps people explore their emotions, relieve stress. improve symptoms of anxiety and depression, and cope with a physical illness or disability. No artistic talent is necessary for art therapy to succeed, because the therapeutic process is not about the artistic value of the work, but rather about finding associations between the creative choices made and a client's inner life. The artwork can be used as a springboard for reawakening memories and telling stories that may reveal messages and beliefs from the unconscious mind

As with any form of therapy, your first session will consist of your talking to the therapist about why you want to find help and learning what the therapist has to offer Together, you will come up with a treatment plan that involves creating some form of artwork. Once you begin creating, the therapist may, at times, simply observe your process as you work, without interrupting. When you have finished a piece of artwork—and sometimes while you are still working on it-the therapist will ask you questions of how you feel about the artistic process, what is easy or difficult about creating your artwork, and what thoughts or memories you might have had while you are working. Generally, the therapist will ask about your experience and feelings before providing any observations.

Art therapy is founded on the belief that self-expression through artistic creation has therapeutic value for those who are healing or seeking deeper understanding of themselves and their personalities. Art therapists are trained to understand the roles that various art media like color can play in the therapeutic process and how these tools can help reveal one's thoughts, feelings, and psychological disposition.