Paños are pen or pencil drawings on fabric, a form of prison artwork made in the Southwest United States.
The first paños, made with pieces of bedsheets and pillowcases, were made in the 1930s. They were originally used to communicate messages. Since then, they became used for primarily artistic purposes, and are often made with handkerchiefs. Prisoners sometimes use paños to get favors. Themes made with the artwork include Catholic faith symbols, Chicano political movement imagery, and prison imagery.
Prisoners often mail their artwork to their families. Families who receive the art put them in a box or binder as a keepsake instead of framing them.
In the 1990s Governor of Texas Ann Richards created enrichment programs for prisons. Michael Hoinski of the Texas Monthly stated that they had "had helped spawn a golden age of paño-making in Texas." The programs were ended during the terms of governors George W. Bush and Rick Perry, and paños are now prohibited in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.
The Pa'O (Pa-O, Paoh) (Burmese: ပအိုဝ်းလူမျိုး or တောင်သူ; [pəo̰]; Shan: ပဢူဝ်း) is the seventh largest ethnic nationality in Burma with a population of approximately 600,000- 1,800,000.
The Pa'O settled in the Thaton region of present-day Myanmar around 1000 B.C. Historically, the Pa'O wore colorful clothing until King Anawratha defeated the Mon King, Makuta of Thaton. The Pa'O were enslaved and forced to wear indigo-dyed clothing to signify their status.
The Pa'O people are the second largest ethnic group in the state of Shan. They also reside in Kayin State, Kayah State, Mon State, and the Bago Division. They are believed to be of Tibeto-Burman lineage, and share the language and culture of the Karen people. They compose two distinct groups: The Lowland Pa'O, based in Thaton, and The Highland Pa'O, based in Taunggyi. It is believed that there are as many as twenty-four Pa'O subgroups.
Many of the modern day Pa'O have fled to Mae Hong Son Province, in northern Thailand, due to ongoing military conflicts in Myanmar.
A palace is a grand residence, especially a royal residence or the home of a head of state or some other high-ranking dignitary, such as a bishop or archbishop.
The word itself is derived from the Latin name Palātium, for Palatine Hill, the hill which housed the Imperial residences in Rome. In many parts of Europe, the term is also applied to ambitious private mansions of the aristocracy. Many historic palaces are now put to other uses such as parliaments, museums, hotels or office buildings. The word is also sometimes used to describe a lavishly ornate building used for public entertainment or exhibitions.
The word "palace" comes from Old French palais (imperial residence), from Latin Palātium, the name of one of the seven hills of Rome. The original "palaces" on the Palatine Hill were the seat of the imperial power while the "capitol" on the Capitoline Hill was the religious nucleus of Rome. Long after the city grew to the seven hills the Palatine remained a desirable residential area. Emperor Caesar Augustus lived there in a purposely modest house only set apart from his neighbours by the two laurel trees planted to flank the front door as a sign of triumph granted by the Senate. His descendants, especially Nero, with his "Golden House" enlarged the house and grounds over and over until it took up the hill top. The word Palātium came to mean the residence of the emperor rather than the neighbourhood on top of the hill.
Tomorrow's coming 'round
A hair-pin curve in the road
She's got a run in her stocking
And she's missing the heel of her shoe
Got up this morning rolled out of bed
I spilled a diet coke
Called my mother said, "Hi"
What I meant to say was, "Why is your life a joke?"
Then, I went down to that ugly bar and
I clicked my heels three times just like you said
And I climbed that road to your empty house
The anticipation was a turn on
But you let me down
'Coz, I stood on that empty street alone
I said, "I'm ready for my close up now, Mr. Demille"
I waited for the light, but it never shone
Well I wonder what you do with that expensive piece of land
That overlooks a billion years of history
I have a sneaking suspicion, you will never understand
Hey maybe I'll see you down by the Rocky and Bullwinkle
And we can talk to that charlatan psychic
And she can paint a prettier picture of your future
'Coz that day in my life, that day in my life
I dreamt tomorrow, had a prettier face
I dreamt tomorrow, would have better things to say
Than, "You look like shit, what's your problem, bitch?
You're legs feel like sandpaper, you can't do anything right"
'Coz that day, never should have taken place
'Coz this day, in my life still cannot explain
Why I listened in the first place to you?
Oh yeah, something else
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts to tell him, how he hurt you
And he made you hurt another