roll away the stone I want the writing today to be about being believed. The protests, these handwritten pleas for sanity, are continuing. While it’s important to keep a record of what is going on, there are other issues to be considered, and to me at least - there - the first linguistic hint of … Continue reading Protesting, Week 6 – On Being Believed
Adrift on stormy seas Where is home? It is nowhere and everywhere. It is in the bombed buildings of Sumy in Ukraine. You think - what a beautiful street. Now filled with people fighting to save lives. Broken trees. Blasted walls. A hand sticks out from under a coverlet, to protect the modesty of the … Continue reading Protesting, Week Five
Fighting back against abuse I just saw a video posted of someone giving a talk to young people. They asked if anyone who knew of someone, including themselves, who had been the victim of sexual abuse could stand. Most of the auditorium stood. Then they asked if those who knew the crime had been reported … Continue reading Protesting, Week Four
Standing in the snow adds a certain certainty Protesting. This week’s recap. It was snowing today. Almost icy rain, but the sky smiled upon us and rain that had blown through in the early morning was now snow. Easier to hold a paper sign in the snow, although I was splashed by a truck going … Continue reading Protesting, Week Three
Liberty facing weakness. Since I was a child, I was either neglected or bullied. My superpower as a child was not asking questions, but watching everything unfold. There’s too much editing going on in my head. Where to give voice to the silenced child. Where to unleash the angry adult. When I watched the nightmare … Continue reading This Is Not a Game
The excitement of seeing the vast expanse of the ocean on a cold day. The thrill of gently warming air, the ability to walk on sand not ice - new blisters emerge. The water, the waves, the distance. The thrill of the ocean. Always the shock of blue expanse, a mirror to the sky, distance, … Continue reading Every Shore Touches Another
I feel the hand of AI getting closer. How can it be a hand, you say? I just read an article where AI was used for analysis because of its soi-disant distance from human interference. Take that AI. Two languages. Really? Because I see the hand of those who take oppression so for granted, it … Continue reading A New Religion
Another Sunday. And while reading an elegantly written review by Olivia Laing of Wifedom in The Guardian – another hero hit the bricks. One tends to believe that those devoted to social justice and unveiling the manipulations of society would be removed from treating others, particularly their women partners, badly, though why I would believe … Continue reading Heroes in the Bin
I stand between storm and side Darkness deep blue Light grey white paint brush strokes the waves. The light, pours For it is not sun, it is from the echoes of reflection Place a seagull in the spotlight. Edith Piaf smiles from above. Little birds recognize each other and then It is a memory. Jane … Continue reading Darkness Deep Blue
I think today’s subject is that line about Where the cracks are is where the light comes in. Or something like that. Was it Leonard Cohen? Why yes it is. From a song called “Anthem.” Ring the bells that still can ringForget your perfect offeringThere is a crack a crack in everythingThat's how the light … Continue reading Where the light is
