​
Back when the Jews were escaping Nazi Germany, many women sewed rings and jewelry into the hems of their skirts and petticoats to transport their valuable heirlooms.  Protection of family bibles, musical instruments and paintings was common during political and religious wars, in order to save them from being burned or destroyed.  Throughout history in Europe, Asia and the Middle East; the practice of destroying cultural or ideological icons with the hope of annihilating a belief system was common, and is still going on. Isis has successfully destroyed so many archeological heirlooms, not just belonging to Muslims, but belonging to Humanity.
 
In her book, Heirlooms, Rachael Hall pieces together several war- linked stories gleaned from four generations of family Heirlooms.
“Author and essayist Rachel Hall, who grew up in Columbia, Missouri, won the Sharat Chandra prize for  her publication of “Heirlooms,” a story collection based on her family’s history. 
“Heirlooms” begins in the French seaside city of Saint-Malo in 1939 and ends in the American Midwest in 1989.
 In these linked stories, the war reverberates through four generations of a Jewish family. Hall’s French mother and grandparents survived the Holocaust in hiding, and her family’s wartime papers and photographs, the inspiration for these stories, were recently donated to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. “Heirlooms” explores assumptions about love, duty, memory and truth. “
Washington post.
​
Wikipedia has an entire chapter dedicated to Heirloom treasures that have been lost or stolen during war time . Some of those items include:

• Scepter of Dragobert  1795

Originally part of the French Regalia, sometimes considered its oldest part, dating from the7th  century, it was stored in the treasure of the Basilica of St Denis (also known as Basilique royale de Saint-Denis) until 1795, when it disappeared, probably stolen.

• Crown Jewels of Ireland 1907

Heavily jeweled insignia of the “Most Illustrious Order of St Patrick”.  Stolen from Dublin Castle in 1907.

• Florentine Diamond 1914

Huge, priceless lost yellow diamond of Indian origin

• Lost Imperial Faberge eggs

 1922 or later
Seven eggs in the Imperial series are missing:[7]

• 1886 – The Hen with Sapphire Pendant egg
• 1888 – The Cherub with Chariot egg
• 1889 – The Nécessaire egg
• 1897 – The Mauve egg
• 1902 – The Empire Nephrite egg
• 1903 – The Royal Danish egg

1909 – The Alexander III Commemorative egg

• Royal Casket 1939

Memorial containing 73 precious relics that had once belonged to polish royalty. Looted during World War II.
See also:
 Art theft and looting during World War II

• Looted art
• Lost artworks
• Lost film
• List of lost television broadcasts
• Lost history
• Lost work
• Nazi gold
• Nazi plunder

I cannot possibly list all the lost heirlooms of the world. Many of them are still hiding somewhere, and every now and then may be discovered in someone’s loft, or exposed from under another painting, or hidden behind a stucco wall. But some may never be found or seen again. Some have been destroyed  by bigotry and hate.
What is left behind, we should cherish, and look for the story, the message , the history and the strength.
 
Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
(William Wordsworth)

Ye that through your hearts to-day
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind
​

I take pictures wherever I go. In fact photography is one of my most favorite hobbies. 
Yet most of my pictures remain in a Cloud, or on my computer. I used to print them up, but have become lazy. 
One of my most cherished pass times when I go home to my parents is to dig out the old photographs from the loft. Piece by piece we go through them, guessing who this baby is, and that Grand Father was, and trying to put names to faces. We are not so enamored by landscape pictures, or by the Still Life. It is the people that are important; the names of the family members, where they fit in the family tree.
 We need to start printing pictures again.. In a hundred years, who knows if the “Cloud “ will still be there… or if there will be an interface to read your thumbnail. 
We need HARD copies buried in that Time capsule. We need something that tells their story like the old portrait paintings, drawings and etchings.
 I wonder if my daughter will ever have that special drawer with old pictures of me?
 I wonder if my old pictures of my parents and grandparents will survive?
Or will I be sold off in a box of old unwanted photographs at an Estate sale down the road, or worse, end up in a rubbish heap?

Food for thought in these troubled times.
 
Treasures in a Box
(© 1997 Pamela Harazim)
Come, look with me inside this drawer,
In this box I've often seen,
At the pictures, black and white,
Faces proud, still, serene.
I wish I knew the people;
These strangers in the box,
Their names and all their memories
Are lost among my socks.
I wonder what their lives were like.
How did they spend their days?
What about their special times?
I'll never know their ways.
If only someone had taken time
To tell who, what, where, when,
These faces of my heritage
Would come to life again.
Could this become the fate
Of the pictures we take today?
The faces and the memories
Someday to be tossed away?
Make time to save your pictures,
Seize the opportunity when it knocks,
Or someday you and yours could be
The strangers in the box.

 
 

         
Arise, then, women of this day! 
Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!

Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. 
Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking
with carnage, for caresses and applause. 
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country 
to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. 
From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."

Blood does not wipe our dishonor nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. 
Let them meet first, as women,
to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after their own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of Peace 


Julia Ward Howe 
 Boston in 1870 


Mother's Day in America was originally started as a holiday that commemorated women's public activism, not so much as a celebration of maternal love and devotion.
The idea of an annual celebration of  all Mothers was originally suggested by Julia Ward Howe, an activist, writer and poet who wrote the Battle Hymn of the Republic, “ Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. “
 Julia suggested that the second Sunday in June be celebrated as Mothers Day and should be dedicated to peace.  During the Civil War, as a protest to all the carnage in the name of justice, she delivered her famous passionate proclamation aimed towards women who had lost their sons in battle. She wrote an extraordinarily brave and progressive speech for the time, imploring all women, no matter what nationality or culture to join together for peace.
 She tirelessly held meetings every year in the name of peaceful activism, and lobbied for a national Mother’s Peace day. 

'We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country 
to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. 
From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says "Disarm, Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice!'


The earliest history of Mothers Day dates back to the ancient Romans and Greeks who dedicated spring to maternal goddesses well before Christ was born. The Greeks honored Rhea, wife of Cronus, and the Ancient Romans celebrated Cybele, the mother goddess. In Rome, the Ides of March became three days of celebration dedicated to Cybele, during which there were street dancing, masquerades and offerings in the Temple of Cybele. 
In the 1600’s in England,Christians dedicated the fourth Sunday in Lent to the Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ), and the celebration evolved to include all mothers.It became known as Mothering Sunday, 
In the United Kingdom and in other European countries, Mothering Sunday is a time when Mothers are honored by the congregation.Many churches send small bouquets of flowers home with the children for their Mothers, and special prayers are dedicated to the Virgin Mary, considered in the Catholic church to be Mother of all men. 


Anna Jarvis Reeves is generally recognized as the founders of modern day Mothers Day in US. In 1858 she started organizing Mother’s work days in West Virginia with the initial goal of improving sanitation conditions in the Appalachian communities.
During the Civil War,  she concentrated her efforts on soliciting women away from their families to care for  the wounded on both sides of the fight.  After the civil war she was active in persuading men on both sides to lay aside their hostilities.
Anna Jarvis Reeves was not herself a Mother, but as an activist and social worker she pioneered her own Mother’s idea that someday, people should honor all Mothers, living and dead, and pay homage to their Motherhood. Incensed by a trend of growing indifference and disrespect towards Mothers, Anna began her own tradition of sending Carnations to her  church in Grafton, to honor her own mother. Carnations were her mother’s favorite flower, and Anna felt that they symbolized a Mother’s pure love and devotion. She began lobbying for a dedicated Mother’s day, and eventually her tireless efforts paid off. 
In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson designated the second Sunday in May to be the official Mother’s day.


Today, we celebrate Mother’s day all over the world, although the dates are not the same in Europe, and  the etiology is quite different.
Despite the commercialism, which sadly disillusioned Anna Jarvis Reeves, Mother’s day is when we commonly honor, recognize and remember our own Mothers.
However, I would like to draw your attention again to the words of Julia Ward Howe, and encourage you to think how much power women have to change the way the world thinks and behaves.


“Arise, then, women of this day! 
Arise all women who have hearts,
whether our baptism be that of water or of fears!
In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at
the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of Peace “


May you have a wonderful Mother’s Day, enjoy your family, and feel special. May the force of Motherhood and female strength be with you, and may you focus the love and devotion towards your family and your fellow man.



To My Mother

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you--
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.


To my Mother

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.

Christina Rossetti



Mother o’ Mine
Rudyard Kipling, 1865 - 1936
If I were hanged on the highest hill, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose love would follow me still, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were drowned in the deepest sea, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!
I know whose tears would come down to me, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were damned of body and soul, 
I know whose prayers would make me whole, 
Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!




Rock Me to Sleep

BY ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN


Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, 
Make me a child again just for tonight! 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore; 
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; 
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! 
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—      
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—   
Take them, and give me my childhood again! 
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—    
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away; 
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep! 


Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you! 
Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
Blossomed and faded, our faces between: 
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, 
Long I tonight for your presence again. 
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No love like mother-love ever has shone; 
No other worship abides and endures,—       
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours: 
None like a mother can charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. 
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
Fall on your shoulders again as of old; 
Let it drop over my forehead tonight, 
Shading my faint eyes away from the light; 
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more 
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore; 
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 


Mother, dear mother, the years have been long 
Since I last listened your lullaby song: 
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. 
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

“I’m always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both.”
(Death)
Markus Zusah, The Book Thief


This Easter finds me back in Cornwall with my elderly parents and siblings, who travelled as far as Australia to gather together. Spring is in full magnificence here with bluebells and wild primroses adorning the hedgerows, and campions spearheading through the glorious golden gorse.
I arrived shortly before the “Pink moon”, which I watched rise in full haloed glory over the coast above Rame Head, Cornwall. As the moon rose, and shone its silvery light across the calm sea, I wondered at how stunning the world is, yet how vulnerable we all are.
I thought about who might have their finger on the nuclear button.
I am unable to comprehend the unfathomable evil the human race is capable of, yet they have such capacity for limitless kindness and endless love.


Easter taps into my childhood memories bringing visions of primrose processions into church, and hymns of paschal joy and hallelujahs. But in my adult years,it represents to me change and rebirth, the miracle of nature, bringing gardens and the countryside to life after a long winter’s sleep.
I went to church with my parents partly out of respect for them, and partly because I enjoy the Easter tradition, celebrating in the beautiful setting of St John’s church, built in 1605.
I also decided what better time to pray for redemption in the light of the current political climate.
However, the sermon was unexpectedly different from the traditional Easter story, and it validated my own ruminating thoughts.
The local Vicar used to be a Naval man, and he delivered a sermon unlike any I have heard before. He expressed grave concern for the state of the world, and the recent dire threat of nuclear war. He labelled behaviors of both leaders of North Korea and of America as narcissistic, and egotistical, and prayed that they would back down from their lethal posturing, and provocative bullying. He criticized imperialism and the proliferation of hatred. He said that no matter what religion or tradition or culture a human being belongs to, war is not the answer. Only the practice of Love can bring about world peace.
I looked down at my Hymnal, and these words jumped out at me from one of the Easter hymns...
My flesh in hope shall rest,
and for the season slumber,
Till Trump from east to west,
shall wake the dead in number.

A chilling reminder of the current state of affairs...
 
I remembered a poem that I wrote two years ago, and decided to introduce it here.
I am talking to the world, like it is an old man, wondering how come we never learn from our mistakes, how it seems our religions cannot save us from ourselves….
I will end this short blog entry with pictures of beautiful England, and reminders of the kinder side of the human condition.


My poem is titled,
Precious World
 (You can listen to my rendition on sound cloud here…
https://soundcloud.com/susan-golden/singaling-precious-world)


Precious world, are you so old 
that memory begins to fail you?
As news unfurls, and stories told 
let testimony blackmail you ? 

For centuries man repeats his crimes
against himself and those who follow
Have you not learned from all those times
the poison you've been forced to swallow? 


Oh sweet earth, oh gentle soil
the sun drenched land of Allah blessed
Embrace those blood soaked souls who spoil
the land with their murderous quest


And Yahweh, where are you my friend?
While Drones take flight in hidden guise
The Western  hemisphere defends
by spying and striking through Hawk's eyes


The Buddha sits, but still as stone
gazing on through World's own eyes
One with all, and all with one,
Yet powerless 'mongst bloodthirsty cries


And Jesus, did you die for naught?
What say you, to this violence?
Suffer your children to be taught 
yet sacrifice their innocence?


Precious World, have you not learned
The folly of an eye for eye?
Have you not learned from your mistakes
That suffer millions to die?


Is the Revelation come?
to cleanse our sins and bring new Grace
Instead of, "to a Creed succumb”?
Let's  idolize ONE HUMAN RACE.

One human race for compassion
One human race ! Take up the fight!
Let us rise up with common passion
and fight for love and joy and light


No Gods, no dogma, let's say “Amen”
The power of Peace amongst ALL men 


( I am cutting this blog short because I have had the worst technical difficulties posting for two weeks. I will post some pictures to demonstrate the beauty of this world and push the publish button. ...
I apologize for not being able to finish this as I had wanted, but I have struggled with it long enough. I hope you had a wonderful Easter, and am hoping and praying for a peaceful solution to the world's conflicts. )

We live in the house we all build.  By Vita Pascone. www.vitalifestyledesign.com

Anti-poaching poster in the Amaru zoo, Cuenca

#​Spiritual leader and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh once said, “Artists have to show us what is not going well within the person and within the society, not try to cover it up.”
 
 Art plays a key role in social movements throughout the world, exposing issues of social injustice, ranging from terrorism and racial tension, to sexism and domestic violence. Many artists choose to create works that address controversial issues in the world, and that question and evoke change through a visceral reaction. As a cultural conduit, art helps to subjectify emotions, grievances, and fears and represent those who may be otherwise voiceless or censored.
Many artists today are deeply committed to making their work speak out against or for social issues and subsequently change the way we perceive the world.
Through expressive talent, artists can challenge cultural narratives in an organic way that is more effective than traditional propaganda.


Temporary Poem of my time
by Yehuda Amichai


 Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west,
Latin writing,
from west to east.
Languages are like cats:
You must not stroke their hair the wrong way.

The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert,
The trees bend in the wind,
And stones fly from all four winds,
Into all four winds.
 They throw stones,
Throw this land, one at the other,
But the land always falls back to the land.
They throw the land, want to get rid of it.
Its stones, its soil, but you can't get rid of it.

They throw stones, throw stones at me
In 1936, 1938, 1948, 1988,
Semites throw at Semites and anti-Semites at anti-Semites,
Evil men throw and just men throw,
Sinners throw and tempters throw,
Geologists throw and theologists throw,
Archaelogists throw and archhooligans throw,
Kidneys throw stones and gall bladders throw,
Head stones and forehead stones and the heart of a stone,
Stones shaped like a screaming mouth
And stones fitting your eyes
Like a pair of glasses,
The past throws stones at the future,
And all of them fall on the present.


Weeping stones and laughing gravel stones,
Even God in the Bible threw stones,
Even the Urim and Tumim were thrown
And got stuck in the beastplate of justice,
And Herod threw stones and what came out was a Temple.

Oh, the poem of stone sadness
Oh, the poem thrown on the stones
Oh, the poem of thrown stones.


Is there in this land
A stone that was never thrown
And never built and never overturned
And never uncovered and never discovered
And never screamed from a wall and never discarded by the builders
And never closed on top of a grave and never lay under lovers
And never turned into a cornerstone?
 
Please do not throw any more stones,
You are moving the land,
The holy, whole, open land,
You are moving it to the sea
And the sea doesn't want it
The sea says, not in me.

Please throw little stones,
Throw snail fossils, throw gravel,
Justice or injustice from the quarries of Migdal Tsedek,
Throw soft stones, throw sweet clods,
Throw limestone, throw clay,
Throw sand of the seashore,
Throw dust of the desert, throw rust,
Throw soil, throw wind,
Throw air, throw nothing
Until your hands are weary
And the war is weary
And even peace will be weary and will be.
 
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
​In an essay entitled “Change the Culture, Change the World,” artist Favianna Rodriguez said,
 “You may attend a rally or vote, but you also read books, listen to music, engage with visual art, turn on the radio and create your identity through culture. Artists are central, not peripheral, to social change. To have the movements that make the wave, you need cultural workers.”
 Trump’s planned major funding cuts to the Arts and Humanities, are going to impact those “cultural workers.
 It might be easy for some to dismiss Art as a waste of resources when there are so many injustices in the world. But to dismiss art is to miss the point of art entirely.
 
According to Americans for the Arts
“Arts and culture promote understanding and action on issues facing our communities and the world. Americans for the Arts’ commitment to creative social change is embodied by its Animating Democracy program, which strengthens the role of artists and cultural organizations as leaders and partners in civic engagement and social change”
 
 
  A healthy society is founded on the principles of justice, shared economic opportunity and sustainable environmental practices. Upholding human rights is fundamental.
 As we look around us, art for social change exhibits itself in Graffiti, local art exhibits, theatre, poetry and Music.
John Legend is an R and B singer who promises to use his voice for good in his new album,# Darkness and Light, which explores issues of color social justice.
  In a recent interview on NPR with R and B artist John Legend said that the
entertainment world has always been liberal. They have been intertwined with the  gay and Lesbian community for many years, explored issues of interracial  marriage, explored issues of color and race and travelled to perform globally. "The artist community is more inclusive by nature, by things they do."
Despite his generalization that "Country and Western artists tend to be more conservative", there are bands, The Dixie Chicks , for example, that challenged the status quo and challenged public opinion. Legend said,
“ If  America doesn’t want to consume art from liberal minded people, then they won’t have a lot of choice." His opinion is that most creative people are liberal.  .
Everyone has to weigh their decision about what they want to listen to or chose to see.
 
.
I Dream A World 
By Langston Hughes
 

I dream a world where man 
No other man will scorn, 
Where love will bless the earth 
And peace its paths adorn 
I dream a world where all 
Will know sweet freedom's way, 
Where greed no longer saps the soul 
Nor avarice blights our day. 
A world I dream where black or white, 
Whatever race you be, 
Will share the bounties of the earth 
And every man is free, 
Where wretchedness will hang its head 
And joy, like a pearl, 
Attends the needs of all mankind- 
Of such I dream, my world!
 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  
Gendercide awareness project in Dallas this week is another example of contemporary art raising awareness  about horrendous issues in the world.
 
Do you know over 100 million women are missing in the world? 
This is due to social causes, not natural disaster.
The term gendercide refers to the elimination of females in certain parts of the world by:
 

• sex-selective abortion
• female infanticide
• gross neglect of young girls
• entirely preventable maternal death
• the inability of older women to access food and shelter. 

 
According to the United Nations Population Fund Association, between 100 and 125 million females
 are missing globally due to Genedercide, ( or femicide.)

• Demographers estimate that 126 million women are missing due to gendercide (also called femicide).
• That is as many deaths as WWI, WWII, and AIDS combined.
• Every year, we lose 2 million baby girls to sex-selective abortion and infanticide. That's 4 girls per minute.
• In China alone, 62 million women are missing. That amounts to 9.5% of its female population.

http://gendap.org/index.html
 
There is an exhibition in Dallas this week entitled, Artists Respond, in which professional artists contribute to the 100 MILLION ISSING EXHIBIT.

 The following descriptions of art are copied from the website http://gengap.org
I have not copied their pictures because I do not have permission.
​
"Terri Thoman
Death of a Woman  from A to Z
​
Artist Statement
At what moment do the eyes portray fear? This was the intent behind my search through twenty-six portraits that create the series, Death of a Woman from A-Z.

​It would take many exhibitions and artist talks before I realized that these were self-portraits and my cry for help. I am a survivor of domestic violence; this body of work is a reminder that some secrets should not go untold. 


Nikhat Qureshi
Resilience - Influence
                                                    
Artist Statement
​Here you see the shadow of a woman, pausing to admire the beautiful flowers sprouting near her feet. The shadow signifies both good and bad -- the massive loss of life due to gendercide, but also the coming together of women worldwide (in response to this awareness campaign) to protect new blossoming lives from a society that is cruel and ignorant in mindset. The flowers are the lives, born and protected, that will be saved. The black shoes are the awareness campaign that steps in to bring everyone together to impact, empower, and educate. "
​
​I encourage you to attend if possible, or check out their website.
 
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 SO LONG by Walt Whitman.
​
TO conclude—I announce what comes after me;
I announce mightier offspring, orators, days, and then, for the present, depart.
 
I remember I said, before my leaves sprang at all,
I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference to consummations.
 
When America does what was promis’d,
When there are plentiful athletic bards, inland and seaboard,
When through These States walk a hundred millions of superb persons,
When the rest part away for superb persons, and contribute to them,
When breeds of the most perfect mothers denote America,
Then to me and mine our due fruition.

I have press’d through in my own right,
I have sung the Body and the Soul—War and Peace have I sung,
And the songs of Life and of Birth—and shown that there are many births:
I have offer’d my style to everyone—I have journey’d with confident step;
While my pleasure is yet at the full, I whisper, So long!
And take the young woman’s hand, and the young man’s hand, for the last time.
 
I announce natural persons to arise;
I announce justice triumphant;
I announce uncompromising liberty and equality;
I announce the justification of candor, and the justification of pride.


I announce that the identity of These States is a single identity only;
I announce the Union more and more compact, indissoluble;
I announce splendors and majesties to make all the previous politics of the earth
Insignificant.
 
Excerpt from SO LONG by Walt Whitman.
 
 
                                                                                    

Graffiti in Oakland Ca . Photo by Womens voice 1

Graffiti in Santa Fe by Womensvoice1

​Sheila Rogers exhibition of ocean trash in Corpus Christi

Anonymous woman, Womensvoice1
​
​In the words of Adrienne Rich,
"In poetry, words can say more than they mean, and mean more than they say. In a time of frontal assaults both on language and on human solidarity, poetry can remind us of all we are in danger of losing-disturb us, embolden us out of resignation."
​I say that is true of all forms of art.

​Until next time, have a great week!

​ And Happy Valentine's day!

Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.” – Gustave Flaubert
 
It is difficult to sum up my recent experiences in Ecuador; writing from a woman’s perspective and with poetry and art as a conduit for social change.
I traveled to Cuenca for a week, to spend time with my daughter, Charlotte, and to absorb the sights, beauty, and flavor of a country she loves. I was excited to go, and had some presumptive ideas, but I was not prepared for the breathtaking vistas and the vital pulse of an ancient city founded by the Incas. The finely chiseled faces, the curious yet friendly smiles, the distinct high cheekbones of the indigenous people in their traditional clothing were a constant reminder of the ancient pulse of this primordial land, with a culture dating back centuries before colonial times.
This is a land where time has stood still, and progress is a guest.
The steep, carved mountains surrounding the city are a mixture of glacier formed gouges, and volcanic uprisings in a palette of every shade of green. The city is surrounded by three major Volcanoes, Tungurahua, (still active,) Cotopaxi, and Chimborazo, which towers majestically at 20,549 feet , covered with snow. At 8,200 feet above sea level, the air is crisp yet thin, the altitude made my heart race, and I was hungry for air. Drinking Coca leaves became my savior, as I slowly adjusted to the atmosphere. Fluffy white clouds hung in the azure sky, and a purple- blue haze glazed the shadow streaked mountains, always changing, always taking my precious breath away again.
Surrounded by beauty the city bustles with honking yellow taxis, wheelbarrows of fruit, flower markets, and local shop-keepers selling their wares under white canopies along the sidewalks; brightly colored blankets, woven Aztec fabrics and alpaca ponchos amongst the smorgasbord of choices. Haggling and bargaining is expected until each party is happy. The air is hung with the smell of fresh ground coffee and Eucalyptus.
Around each corner, wild dogs roam playfully in the streets, skillfully stealing opportunities for food, darting in and out of doors and empty lots. I was told by my daughter that this is a culture that traditionally frowns on neutering, but in the last few years humane societies have evolved to address the wild, uncontrolled canine population problem.
The crumbling infrastructure of the streets, along with the impressive Spanish colonial haciendas, the magnificent wide and looming stone staircases, are a reminder that Cuenca had its heights as an architecturally stunning city in the early 19th century; although the oldest Cathedral dates back to the 1500’s. White washed churches are familiar landmarks throughout the city, and the sound of church bells echo through the town. Predominately Catholic traditions form a back drop to city life, petals strewn in church doorways, stages of the Calvary adorned with flowers and fruit, candles burning for loved ones, luminaries at night; a scarfed woman kneeling in front of a statue of the virgin Mary, in silent prayer.  
 Great carved doors welcome visitors, with proud and evocative intent. The doorways are significant. One steps over the threshold with respect and awe. The winds of change and a comparatively cheap economy have brought many immigrants here; many Europeans and Northern Americans, who come to retire in relative luxury. A luxury that the average indigenous Ecuadorian cannot afford. One must step carefully through these grand doors. This is a proud nation. Proud of its heritage, and protective of its traditions, its’ economic and ecological vulnerability.
I was heartened to experience a visit to Amaru zoo; a refuge for rescued animals. The zoo is situated on the side of a steep mountain, populated with fir and eucalyptus trees, along with pampas grass and huge outcroppings of Agave-type cactus, and Yucca.
The zoo has educational stages, teaching about endangered species, against poaching, and against keeping exotic pets, as well as about composting and recycling etc. The zoo emphasizes how we are one with the earth, and that we “"Have a responsibility to look after our planet… it is our only home” (The Dalai Lama)
 

 
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Talking of Llamas, ;) there were Llamas and Alpacas at the zoo, able to freely graze on the side of the mountain. We were lucky enough to observe a male Llama attempting to mount a very feisty female, who protested vehemently; a pretty precarious move on the steep inclines. She was much more interested in grazing on the hay, and he, the persistent male with tunnel vision, narrowly escaped tumbling down the mountain side.
The wing span of the Great Andean Condor was awesome! At least 8-10 feet! 
Imagine it souring above the snow topped volcanos, hunting with laser sharp eyes for the smallest prey. A huge bird, keeping vigil like an old school master, with his hooked beak and white collar, eyeing the sacrificial chicks released into his territory, with shifty nonchalance. Pounce! His vulture neighbors were quick and cruel, tearing the poor little things apart greedily; hard to watch, yet part of the food chain. 
 
“The Andean condor was placed on the Endangered Species List in 1973 and is in danger of becoming extinct due primarily to over hunting. Many farmers shoot these birds because they mistakenly believe the condors kill their livestock. Pesticide poisoning through the food chain has also hurt populations.”(Rainforest alliance.org)
The bird house was full of once-injured birds of prey, and parrots. McCaws perch freely in the trees, as do the mischievous spider monkeys swinging from branch to bough, using their tails to balance and somersault, looking innocently seductive whenever food is present, and politely taking with strangely long delicate fingers.  Dried bananas were their favorite! 
 
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There were two poems in the rest area, both in Spanish, which I attempted to translate. 
The Spanish language is rich and poetic, with a romance that is hard to imitate without sounding precocious. Yet these poems are an example of how beautiful the language is, and how close to the earth, and nature we are married.
 
 
 
LAS LUCIERNAGAS "Hilanderas de luz, por la llanura, en fantástica y rauda muchedumbre, con arabescos de argentada lumbre bordan el manto de la noche oscura. Alas y brillantez para la altura tienen ellas; mas huyen de la cumbre, y, después de irradiar fugaz vislumbre, rescatan en el césped su hermosura. requerir el resplandor del dia, transforman, con brillante pedrería, a humilde for en reluciente broche. Y hermanas de las célicas estrellas, así amables y pródigas como ellas, su limosna de luz dan a la noche." Manuel María 0rtiz Ordoñez Faunia-1954 
 
TO the best of my ability,(using #google translate, and a bit of clumsy poetic license…), the poem roughly translates: 
 
 
 "Spinners of light, across the plain, 
in a fantastic and dense crowd,
 with Arabesques of silver fire 
 embroidering the mantle of the dark night.
 They possess great wings of brilliance;
 They fly from the summit,
 and, after a radiating fleeting glimpse, 
they reflect their beauty in the grass, 
transforming the night into a brilliant gleaming rhinestone brooch.
 And the sisters of the celestial stars, 
as kind and lavish as they are, 
create the night with their Alms of light.
 "Manuel María 0rtiz Ordoñez Faunia-1954
 
 
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LA LIBELULA "La de las alas de cristal que, al vivo halago de la luz lleva el iris a su espalda; la de rasgados ojos de esmeralda, ual los de bella huri de ensueño mago. El sombrío boscaje encuentra aciago, no es digna de sus huellas la guirnalda, ni en pos del cielo de zafir y gualda remonta por la altura el vuelo vago. Busca las olas, que besar procura, y por instantes en cada una posa, para que todas copien su hermosura. Y, en medio de inefables embelesos, ignora si serán para una hermosa más fugaces las olas o los besos. Manuel María Ortiz Ordoñez Faunia 1954 
 
LA LIBELULA 
The one with the crystal wings that, 
flatters the light, carries the iris behind him; 
The one with raven emerald eyes, 
the one with the beautiful air of a dreamy magician.
 The shady grove hides fate,
the garland is not worthy of its footprints,
 nor of the sky of zafir and gualda 
It ascends by the height of the vacant flight.
 Look for the waves, which kisses seek,
 so that all may copy beauty in each pose.
 And, in the midst of indescribable indecision ,
 one does not know if they will choose 
The beautiful more fleeting waves or the kisses. 

Manuel María Ortiz Ordoñez Faunia 1954
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Similar to the Native American philosophy, the Ecuadorian culture echoes that of the Incas with respect to their reverence for the earth and for the Mother of all things.
 The Feminine was honored. 
Wayna-Kapec, an ancient king of the Incas, born in Pumapango, ( an Incan settlement that existed prior to the city of Cuenca,) ordered a Qucha, or “"moist ground” be constructed in honor of his Mother, Mama Ocllo. The river was dammed for this purpose, and remains an irrigation source to this day.
The religions of the Andean world, stamped a harmonious practice on the man-nature interrelation. So animals, such as the Puma, the serpent, the Llama, and birds such as the McCaw, Condor, and the Hummingbird, are all linked to the myths of the origin of the people. 
 
The street graffiti is rich and mostly done by talented artists, adding a vibrancy to crumbling walls and old grey staircases. They reflect the reverence for tradition and patterns, yet embrace a new era of expectation and brave individuality. 

 
Food is an important part of any culture, and Cuenca was no exception. My favorite were Tamales made from maize, steamed in banana leaves and flavored with homemade salsa. One could dine richly from small street cafes, although I avoided street vendors to save myself from Montezuma's revenge! 
Yes, the Ecuadorians eat guinea pigs. Cuy ( pronounced “ Cooie “ )is a traditional part of the indigenous people's diet. Rich in protein, and apparently sweet meat. They are often sacrificed for special occasions, and are roasted, or served in stews. I could not bring myself to even try Cuy, I raised too many Guinea pigs as pets when I was young, and couldn't bear the thought of killing one for food. No, I am not vegetarian, but as I become more conscious of how meat is raised and killed, I have seriously considered giving up meat. Cruelty free is an important consideration. At least the chickens roam free here, and the cows I saw were not cooped up in milking farms. Cows are commonly visible grazing at the side of the road, and their pasture is varied daily. Alpacas are farmed for their warm, soft fleece, which is sheered each year. These gentle creatures roam freely in the grounds of public parks and in gardens, grazing on the grass and keeping the lawns cropped. 

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A game of cards, we’ll play tonight
The Trump card's played, but we’ll still fight
The Ace of Hearts could make things right
If “Love trumps hate”


As reality sinks in, post election
I find myself in retrospection
What caused this rude and crude selection?
I cry out! “Love trumps hate!”


I draw my breath in disbelief
I swallow my fears and brave my grief
I wonder if we’ll find relief
If “Love trumps hate”


So mocking disability’s OK
And grabbing crotches is fair play
And endorsement by the KKK
Oh God! Let Love trump hate!


Let's give a little latitude
To misogynistic attitude
No chivalry no gratitude
Just Hate for Trump’s hate sake!


He’s given his endorsement
To intolerance, and enforcement
To forced alien deportment
(Ya gotta love Trump’s hate)


He’s gonna build that “Glorious Wall”
To keep “"Them “ out, once and for all
Shortsighted pride comes before a fall
Let “Love trump hate”


As hate crimes rear their ugly head
Inciting Racism to spread
I really dread the days ahead
It’s time to “Love trumps hate”


The Joker scoffs and disregards
Much progress made, trashed, left in shards
Yet he’ll bring down this deck of cards
Unless, “Love trumps hate”


So love your neighbor Red or Blue
Hindu Muslim Sikh or Jew
LGBT, disabled too
Let’s prove that “"Love trumps hate “


The Ace of hearts lies on my plate
I dearly hope it’s not too late
The power of LOVE, up for debate
Let’s play a game of “#LoveTrumpsHate!”



Poem #LoveTrumpsHate by Womensvoice1

 My passion for Poetry for social change and the subsequent birth of Womensvoice1 initially stemmed from my firm belief that a world where more women have a voice would be a very different world.
When Malala was shot by the Taliban in 2012, I wrote a poem Dedicated to Malala, featured on its own page of my blog.
 Malala’s bravery and determination to continue with her own education, as well as encourage other girls, despite death threats by the suppressive Taliban regime, was an inspiration to all with a huge Domino effect across the world.
The Malala fund was born, the film Girl Rising was created , conceptualizing  the Let girls Learn initiative, and now spawning a new movie about the importance of girls education, called We will Rise.
 Michelle Obama’s Mission to Educate Girls Around the World  has prompted this new film by CNN.
It is about girls overcoming unfathomable obstacles to achieve their education, and change their lives. 
The Documentary Group, which produced CNN’s ‘Girl Rising,’ also produced this one-hour film called WE Will Rise.
 The film includes contributions from Michelle Obama, Meryl Streep, Frieda Pinto, and CNN journalist  Isha Sesay. The musical theme for the film is “Rise up” written by Andra Day.
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“You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry-go-round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
For you
When the silence isn't quiet
And it feels like it's getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we'll take the world to its feet
And move mountains
Bring it to its feet
And move mountains
And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times a day
For You”

​by Andra Day.
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Let Girls Learn is a United States government initiative to ensure adolescent girls get an education. Around the world, young and adolescent girls face many obstacles to an education. Some are forbidden by their "religious" doctrine, such as the Taliban;  some are forbidden by certain African Tribal leaders who feel threatened by the prospect of girls  learning to read, and their potential to become community leaders.  The role of women in many cultures is limited to water bearing, housekeeping, cooking, child bearing and even slavery. Women and girls are responsible for fetching water in many tribal and rural communities, and the long arduous days they face do not allow them the time or the opportunity to go to school. Remote villages and towns where the main source of family income is hard labor often lack schools, and families lack the resources to pay for academic study. Accessing and paying for an education is often affected by complex physical, cultural and financial barriers. Girls are often forced to marry before they have even reached puberty, and many migrate into prostitution to help feed themselves and their family.
 
"Although the Taliban claims that it acts in the best interests of women, it has cruelly reduced women and girls to poverty, worsened their health, and deprived them of their right to an education..
Since 1998, Girls over the age of eight have been prohibited by the Taliban from attending school. The Taliban jailed and then deported a female foreign aid worker who had promoted home-based work for women and home schools for girls. The Taliban also prohibited women from studying at Kabul University. The Taliban's version of Islam is not supported by the world's Muslims. The Taliban is out of step with the Muslim world and with Islam."
The Taliban’s war against women:  http://www.state.gov/j/drl/rls/6185.htm

 Michelle Obama has spoken out about the importance of education for girls, and has dedicated her future to the cause.

An investment in girls’ education yields the best return in the developing world; for each additional year of primary school a girl attends, her future earnings increase by 10-20%. And the return is even higher for secondary school – 15-25%. Educating girls doesn’t just benefit families, it helps the economy. When educated women join the workforce, productivity goes up and GDP increases.
(https://worldschildren.org)

 Quoting Unesco.org, these statistics show the benefits of a primary and secondary education in women, worldwide:

“Educated women are less likely to die in childbirth, saving 98,000 lives. In sub-Saharan Africa, if all women completed primary education, maternal deaths would be reduced by 70%, saving almost 50,000 lives. Educating girls can save millions of lives: If all women had a primary education, there would be 15% fewer child deaths. If all women had a secondary education, child deaths would be cut in half, saving 3 million lives. Mothers’ education improves child nutrition. If all women had a primary education, 1.7 million children would be saved from stunting from malnutrition. If all women had a secondary education, 12 million children would be saved from stunting from malnutrition Girls with higher levels of education are less likely to have children at an early age 10% fewer girls would become pregnant under 17 years in sub-Saharan Africa and South and West Asia if they all had a primary education Almost 60% fewer girls would become pregnant under 17 years in sub-Saharan Africa and South and West Asia if they all had a secondary education. Educating girls is a key factor in hastening the demographic transition to lower birth rates. Girls with higher levels of education are less likely to get married at an early age If all girls had a primary education, there would be 14% fewer child marriages If all girls had a secondary education, there would be two-thirds fewer child marriages Education narrows pay gaps between men and women In Pakistan, women with a primary education earn 51% what men earn. With a secondary education, they earn 70% what men earn In Jordan, women with a primary education earn 53% what men earn. With a secondary education, they earn 67% what men earn. Educated women are more likely to find work. In Brazil, only 37% of women with less than primary education are in work. This rises to 50% if they have a primary education”
Statistics taken from http://unesco.org

Girls Not Brides is a global partnership of more than 600 civil society organizations from over 80 countries committed to ending child marriage and enabling girls to fulfil their potential. http://www.girlsnotbrides.org/about-girls-not-brides/
 
The First Lady, Michelle Obama claims that even though she never imagined as a child that she would become the First Lady of the United States, her own struggles to obtain a good education afforded her an eventual significant voice that she can use to benefit others.
“Education opened so many doors and gave me the confidence to pursue my ambitions and have a voice in the world.
For me, education was power.”
 Michelle Obama
Mrs. Obama goes on to say,
“That's why I decided to work on global girls' education as first lady: because right now, there are tens of millions of girls like Malala in every corner of the globe who are not in school -- girls who are so bright, hardworking and hungry to learn. And that's really the mission of the Let Girls Learn initiative we launched last year: It's a global effort to give these girls the education they need to fulfill their potential and lift up their families, communities and countries.”

“We know from statistics that educating girls can transform lives, families, communities, and entire countries. When girls are educated, they lead healthier and more productive lives. They gain the skills, knowledge, and confidence to break the cycle of poverty and help strengthen their societies. It’s time to Let Girls Learn.”

Let Girls Learn initiative   https://letgirlslearn.gov/

 Join the Girl Rising community and become a champion for girls’ education. “Use your voice and talent to help us create meaningful change: spread the message, raise funds, and rally your community to advocate for policies supporting girls' education. Now is the time. “
http://girlrising.com/grow-the-movement/index.html#a-call-to-action
 
You may contribute to Girl Rising here :
http://www.katahdin.org/sponsored/10x10/contribute.html
 
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