"What Does It Mean to You Be a Global Citizen?"

Children re-creating crossing the dangerous trip of five days across mountains on foot to get to the border and often means going without food. These children understood what they were re-creating and once on stage became very serious.

This 11 year old girl was first asked about her life in Syrian. She added her friends, and  her jump rope. Then she was asked why she was in the camp, instead of her home country, and she drew the bombs.

Currently, my favorite travel magazine is  AFAR.  The magazine was started by founders Greg Sullivan & Joe Diaz. The magazine asks questions of its readers like "What does it mean to you to be a global citizen?"

In the March/April 2017 magazine, they feature the Dreamscapes from Patrick Willocq. Quoting from Afar:

"Through his series of theatrical photographs he gives a voice to refugee children from Burundi and Syria. While on assignment for Save the Children in Tanzania and Lebanon, he spent five days in
refuge camps playing with the kids, coloring and talking about their life in the camps, their lives back
home, and their dreams for the future. then , Willocq and his team returned to each settlement for a 12-day stints. They then build sets depicting  scenes from these conversations, using prop's made from bought and salvaged supplies. We were actually listening to their stories and doing something  with them, which was a big deal for the kids, The hope is that this project puts the attention of policy makers back on the refugee crisis."

This brings tears to my eyes. Helping these children communicate through the media of art is pure genius. It allows them to work out the horror of the events they have been through.

I applaud Afar Magazine, Greg Sullivan, Patrick Willocq and of course, Save the Children.  How easy it is to forget what these refuges are going through. These victims of war need our help. The magazine has opened my mind to "What it means to me to be a global citizen." I hope that people who read my blog will ask themselves the same question.

The time for action is now.

"Harmony, Charity, and Peace."

Little River, Newbury, MA

Springtime

Deep comfort of the Earth below you,

Vast joy of the Heavens above you,

Great peace of the Infinite within you.

"There Are No Facts Anymore."

Happy New Year


My thoughts are running like silent snow flakes from the sky.

The quote on my title page is from the comic (and I use this term loosely) Stephen Colburn who is interviewed annually  at Christmas time by John Dickerson on Meet  The Nation. 


Of course, the quote is about our incoming President Trump, who will become head of the state in less than two weeks.


After the interview, I started writing "There Are No Fact Any More" on a sheet of paper and continued rewriting the same quote over and over again. It was a compulsive act on my part. May be it was a stress releaser. If it was a stress relieve it failed because this morning,  as I sit at my desk waiting for a big snow storm to arrive, I kept re-reading this phrase. It rings so true in my mind.

There are not facts anymore.


People hear sound bits and believe these sound bits are the truth. If they are spoken on TV - they must be the truth. If they are Tweeted around the world - they must be the truth.

No fact checkers need to apply for the truth patrol as it has been eliminated.

I opened a small book on the Teaching of Zen edited by Thomas Cleary which was given to me by a dear friend. I randomly opened the book to the quote below:

"Truth and Words"

"There is originally no word for truth, but the way to it is reveled by words. The way originally has no explanation, but reality is made clear by explanation. That is why the Buddhas appeared in the world with many expedient methods; the whole canon dispenses medicines according to diseases."

Shih-shuang (986-1039)

The more the world changes, the less it changes. We never learn.

Floating Home in Essex Behind Farmham's Famous Clam

Day after Thanksgiving 2016 Friday

We had been invited to attend Thanksgiving with my sister and brother in law on this Friday. This Friday, the day after the entire nation celebrates Thanksgiving.

Day late and dollar lost I say. It is the type of invited that I hate to get.

I know that they don't want us around on Thanksgiving and that they are feeling slightly guilty. So, instead, they turn this invite around for us. It will make the driving easier for us- less traffic. Call me a traditionalist but, I can only do Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving day.

It just goes on & on . . . and I am tired of it all. Am I being selfish? No, I hurt and I am tired and I want the house to be quiet so, I can write and try to get out this election depression that is going around. Jack Jackson's Time goes By...listening on the computer to Pandora Radio Jack Jackson's Radio.

I had a long Aveeno Oatmeal Bath in my huge, double insulated bathtub which keep me warm after my skin of my fingers become wrinkle  & I see the future of my hands before me: wrinkled, cocked and old. On my face, I applied a think layer of honey from Trader Joes.  The honey is from Turkey and it is wonderful. It's color is golden yellow and it's taste has a hint of tarragon. It is lusciously thick, gooey, and quickly starts to react to my skin. It slowly will draws out chemicals, dirt and slowly, it will add moisture to my face. Jolly fun time I had.

Kissed my husband good bye and wished him a safe journey taking his almost 94 year old mother down to Cape Cod to have a day late Thanksgiving.

I proceeded to the living room and pulled out my favorite CD blues in the night;

the Johnny Mercer Songbook by Verve. Pulled out the double yoga matt and spread it out in my exercise cove.  My space is the bottom of an L of the living room. It has no doors, but, it has all my plants, cds, and coffee table books on an old & hand made wooden coffee table. It is my go to place. I read in this corner, I stretch here, exercise her, and most importantly meditate here. It is my go to quiet place.

I missed the Friday, Thanksgiving to go to this space. I need a day of quiet for my brain.

John Mayer is singing Free Falling on my computer. Nice touch.

How Can You Not Love Autumn?

I have always loved autumn the most of any of the seasons. Growing up it was about the piles of leaves, and watching my father rack leaves into a huge pile and then burn the leaves. I loved that luscious smell. Dad would look so big and strong as he keep his eyes on the burning file. I was so young.  The  weather would soon become chilled, and my mother would start feeding our winter birds. Some where mothers would be baking fruit pies and children would be excited from the sugary sweets. My mother did not bake. Why would you bake when you could find a perfectly wonderful pie in the freezer section of the local store? 

Quiet Spaces Which I Love

Newman Road, Newbury, MA is a stone's throw away from our home. The Little River gently flows though the marsh. In the winter time, the road will usually flood out. This land is protected and never will be built on.

We have  Glossy Ibis, Bald Eagles, and Willets visit this spot. One Thanksgiving years ago, we were away and some lucky birder spotted a Sandhill Crane.

Kayaks, small boats cruise through the marsh in summer. One must be careful to postpone boating during our Green Head Fly season in July.

A very fine quiet place to enjoy a summer day.

Through the Camera's Eye

My camera is always with me. Well, maybe 94% of the time, the Cannon is with me. Sometimes, I need to take a break and see with my eyes. The camera's eye is so permanent. I need to exercise my own imagination, curiosity,  and see for myself  life's little wonders. I need to tune up my skills, take time to smell the roses through my hazel eyes. 

Spring is one of my favorite seasons. It is a new start, fresh start, and the beginning. It is filled with new flowers, soft green grasses, and the desire to get out and smell the roses.

Newburyport Art Association Gift Shop Treasures

Opening of Judith Monteterrante Exhibit

View of Water Street from Art Association

Newman Road Marsh and Little River on Deep Green Colors