it feels like we have been barreling through time and space – bouncing off broadcasts and pundits, headlines and breaking news – as if in a virtual pinball machine – not too much control but a lot of noise.
we have decided to get off the ride. as a person who is easily motion-sicknessed, i am weary of the political nausea, the tiltawhirl of these times, the roller coaster of insanity, the cauldron where people have tossed their morality. it’s time to step to the side and not watch every single ball hit every single paddle, bounce off every single bumper and slide down every single ramp while ineptly working the flippers.
because, really, sue aikens is right. the now IS all we have.
it’s time to slow down and just live.
the author wrote, “…i’m no longer under the impression that i can outrun the 77-million-person mob that voted in favor of racism, misogyny, violence and corruption…” (lisa bernardi)
and i agree. i can’t either. but that doesn’t mean that i have to participate with them, hang out with them, trust them. and that, frankly, is pretty heartbreaking. but it is also time-and-space-perspective-arranging.
if, indeed, the now is all we have – which i think is true – then we need attend to the fleeting things that are life-giving, that are generative, that are intentions of kindness, that give us peace.
we need to make the best plans we can, all the while knowing that they may be dashed.
we need to be with those who share our values, who wish for an earth, a country, a state, a community, a family that leads with goodness.
and we need to find ways to linger in every single thing that feeds our souls.
“i will not win all of my battles, and neither will you. but if we do our best with intelligence, compassion and love, that will be enough – it has to be enough. and that way, though each outcome may not be what we wanted or hoped for, at least each day we can be proud of who we are.” (elizabeth glaser)
with intelligence. with compassion. with love.
this made me cry. i was going through framed pieces that had had spots in various places of our house or back-in-the-day at my label offices. and these words – instantly stopped me in my tracks.
for these were the very things lacking in what-ended-up the winning campaign of this election. intelligence. compassion. love. and i find that devastating.
i saw a meme the other day. it read: i will be proud all my life that i voted for kamala.
and i will.
because the other thing – the other choice – the magachoice – the one where “he got you to stop trusting the media, scientists, legal and judicial systems, federal agencies, military leadership, economists, educational institutions, our closest allies” et al – leaving “the only person you trust is him“* – that choice…was without intelligence, without compassion and without love.
instead, it zeroed in on people’s internal rage, giving it permission by example. it exploited their lack of knowledge, their lack of curiosity or questioning. it perpetuated the maniacal glee of revenge and retribution. it made a farce out of the legal system of checks and balances, a limitless low bar on integrity for the highest position(s) in the nation. it made self-serving a positive trait. it exclamation-pointed prejudice and marginalization. it underlined and bolded all the worst qualities of humanity and it brought it all to the surface. without hesitation, people jumped onto the hatewagon, pistols drawn, flying flags and banners of “greatness”, bleeding out any semblance of intelligence, compassion or love.
and here we are.
and i wonder how you – who voted for him and for all the cruelty and hardship and extremist notions and fascist intentions and every thing vile of which he reeks – are proud of that.
and so…it made me cry.
and – better than i could have said this, a brief video (x-out top right, turn on audio bottom right). thank you to matt and for his courage to say it aloud:
it’s true. we write a lot. without fail, six days a week now. we haven’t missed a day since the beginning of our melange 355 weeks ago.
it is likely you have not read all of these posts. we completely understand that. life – these days – reading-wise – is lived more like a reader’s digest condensed book than a novel; there is just simply not enough time.
i haven’t ever gone back to read it all – every single post. maybe some day i will do that. it will surely tell a tale – narrating our lives, pondering artistry, speaking to issues about which we feel zealous, documenting times we are celebrating or enduring – ourselves, in our family, our friends, our community, our country.
sometimes these posts are light, hopefully uplifting. sometimes they express confusion. sometimes they ask hard questions. sometimes they are enraged. sometimes we are trying to answer a need we see. sometimes we are a little bit eloquent. sometimes we are awkward. sometimes they are full of the absolute joy of getting to be alive. sometimes full of wonder and gratitude.
it is likely you will not agree with every post. we don’t expect that nor do we wish that. these are simply our perspectives and, you will see, sometimes even the two of us – viewing the same image prompt – write from completely different perspectives.
i imagine that there are times you have vehemently disagreed with me or david. and that is also good. hopefully, that will mean that someday we might have a conversation about that, talk about it, share thoughts and knowledge, even emotions that disagreements evoke.hopefully, that will mean it might be generative.
the thing i can say is that we are merely doing the best we can to write. every single day that our melange is published. not to elicit attention nor to be overbearing in our words or our stance on things. we don’t expect you to adopt our stance – we are merely expressing our views. we are just vulnerably putting it out there and, frankly, it takes courage to be as transparent as we have been. but an artist’s work demands that, demands voice. and we are two artists reflecting on real life…two blogs…two vehicles for our creative hearts, sorting it all out – this life – as we go, just like you.
though it might be tempting to assume these posts are the full and complete autobiographies – the diaries – the whole kitnkaboodle – of our lives, i would caution by saying that we are writing to prompts – photographs i have taken – and there is more to our lives – and our life together – than these images. just as we cannot – would not – assume what you have been up to every moment of each day, neither can a reader of our blogs. these posts are not the entirety of our days. so, maybe we might spend some time together – by communicating in some fashion or in the same room – to learn a few more details, hear a few more anecdotes, ask a few more questions, express a bit of concern and empathy, understand where we are all coming from.
we heartily welcome your perspectives and your comments. we appreciate your reading. we appreciate your feedback. and we are grateful for anyone who has ever directly impacted us with financial support – of this blog, my music, david’s artwork, our combined artistry.
the stable – way back when – had a whole bunch of horses, stall upon stall in a long barn.
but i remember four.
buck and hercules and mardigras and lucky.
buck was a, well, buckskin-colored horse. he was kind of elderly, perfect for new riders. i imagine that in his heyday he was quite the looker – tan with black forelegs, a black mane. he was gentle and slow-moving, predictable and sweet.
hercules was a palomino. a smaller horse with spirit and a real love of people, hercules was a favorite and could be counted on for a good ride, wherever and however you might adventure together.
mardigras was a stunner. a big black horse, highly spirited and capable, he was my favorite. he loved to canter and gallop, and he jumped with ease, graceful and fluid. he was a horse who could go the long haul, trail rides of miles, paddock-training for hours, show jumping with the best of them.
and then there was lucky. lucky was a bay. he had attitude – but not the i’ll-cooperate-with-you-let’s-go-for-a-ride-together kind of attitude. his was an impatient i-want-what-i-want-no-matter-what kind of mindset, i-do-what-i-want behavior. he had a dubious reputation. no one was entirely thrilled with drawing the ride-lucky straw. but there were days that was the straw you pulled.
i was assigned lucky on a trail ride. we saddled up in the paddock and rode past the barn. we rode nose-tail-nose-tail, following each other up into the woods. as taught, i held the reins in my hands, concentrating on good posture and the messages i was sending my horse. i leaned over under his mane and hugged him, speaking quietly to him, trusting we were working together. in retrospect, i’m pretty sure he smirked at my innocence, curling his lip back and thumbs-upping his true nature.
once we were way up in the woods and had ridden for some time, it was the moment we turned back toward the barn.
lucky tossed his head and whinnied loud. every other horse looked at him, surprised at how noisy he was.
and then he took off.
no one had warned me that – at any moment – lucky – undeterred, unconstrained – would likely take his head, that he would show no mercy. on this first trail ride with him, i was shocked and scared at his out-of-control.
he ran – down the trail – not caring if branches were thrashing at me, not caring if i were jostled around, not caring – at all – if i were still on his back. by the time we neared the paddocks, my young, strong body was exhausted from merely holding on. we got to the barn and he reared up on his hind legs, throwing me off to land hard in the dirt. he swaggered off, uncaring, heading for the feed troughs.
my instructor immediately got me up on another horse, handing me the reins, encouraging me to ride more, getting me past the trauma.
there were other lessons, other trail rides, horse shows after that.
but even at nine years old, i knew better than to ride lucky, knew better than to trust lucky. his base desires had overrun all his kind-horse-ness, all his he-knows-better. his willfulness had overrun all his goodness.
lucky had taken me for a ride once. i wasn’t going to allow it again. there were other choices, other horses to ride.
“there is nothing to be learned from the second kick of a mule.” (mark twain)
those of you whose base rage overran your decency, who voted for the sneering, contemptuous no-mercy agenda of maga-land, where did the nine-year-old in you disappear to? how is it possible this mule kicked you a second time??
we are truly – like mika brzezinski said – ” counting down to the election of America’s life.”
if there are no alarm bells going off in your head, you have not been paying attention, you have not read the intentions of the maga party, you have sloughed off the reprehensible words of the maga candidate.
if you are not trembling as you think about the outcome of this election, you have not elicited any part of your good conscience, your moral center, the part of you that cares about this country or its inhabitants. you, instead, have bought into hatred and violence. you have abdicated your character, your integrity to the abhorrent character of this maga leader. and, if i knew you before, i don’t know you now.
if you don’t feel like sobbing thinking about the darkness that could come with the maga intentions of the maga candidate, his cronies, project 2025, every single mean-spirited, depraved, cruel, sadistic undermining of rights, freedoms, opportunity, you have closed off your heart. you clearly don’t care what happens to the people of this country – of which you are one.
i am stunned we are here, at this nightmarish moment in the history of the united states. it feels surreal to even try and wrap my head around the unconscionable, ghoulish possibility that we – free americans – could find ourselves in a fascist regime under the authoritarian rule of this unscrupulous maga candidate and his drooling-for-power contemptible sycophants.
everything else – every single thing else – can be sorted out.
because without democracy, none of that other, er, stuff will matter. at all. ever.
and so i am poised to vote for kamala and tim. i am poised to vote for a way forward. i am ready to do the work, carry the hope, feel the inspiration, rejuvenate the optimism of this country.
i do not want to be surrounded by ugly, by division, by anger, by revenge, by a candidate whose vulgarity is lacking any degree of maturity or reasonableness, who pushes vitriol and hatred.
i am ready to step into a future that holds firmly to the bedrock of this nation – its democracy.
i hope you have cut to the chase as well.
i mean, really, fellow americans – fellow voters – first things first.
my dad went missing-in-action in world war II when my mom was expecting their first child. she gave birth to a baby girl who died later the same day – still while my sweet poppo was missing-in-action.
later, my dad was declared a prisoner of war, held captive, shot down over the ploesti oil fields of romania, taken prisoner in bulgaria.
my dad – who would have been 104 last week – had enlisted in the army air corps of the united states because he was invested in protecting the world against the rise of fascism and its horrors. despite having a brand new bride, he risked his young life to push back against authoritarianism, never wavering, courageous and stalwart.
to think that anyone related to my dad would vote then for a fascism-dreaming candidate to be the president of this country would be a slap in the face of my father, a wave of the hand dismissing his time as a soldier, missing-in-action, as a prisoner of war.
my dad was the good. he participated in an effort that was necessary to keep our democracy, to help the world regain some solid footing, to expose the terrors of extremism.
and now, with absolutely no uncertainty, i will do my part. i will carry forward his good.
i am not on the front lines, fighting a war or in the throes of bombing or intense strife. but i am living in these united states- a country divided like no other time. i am sickened by what i see in the maga candidate, the maga agenda – the hatred, the bigotry, the propaganda – intentions borne of the extreme, of the self-serving, of all manner of prejudice.
i know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that my dad and my mom are casting their votes for this election from the heavens above.
they are calling from that other plane – no, they are shouting from that other plane – “BE THE GOOD!!!” they implore us.
i will not turn my back on the sacrifices of my father, the terror my sweet dad experienced. it is with gratitude for his service to our country – and with gratitude for the service of all veterans – that i vote for the continued democracy of these united states.
in an understatement of understatements, the words “not bad” on the sticker on the railing at this bryce canyon overlook made me laugh aloud.
for this was grandeur, indeed.
the expansive country in front of us – here at our very first overlook – rainbow point, the highest elevation of the stops.
the national park brochure describes it as poetry in stone and i would agree. it is a dynamic place, ever-changing, engaging beyond the pale. you cannot help your heart soaring, your pulse racing. it is every word and no words.
we were thrilled. to be there. to be there all together. to experience this inspiring place.
the brochure promised mesmerizing. the canyon land did not fall short.
“happiness is….happiness is….happiness is…different things to different people. that’s what happiness is.” (ray conniff)
i can’t use these glasses – gifted to us – without hearing that song. our tonic and lime makes it happen every time. I don’t fight it. i succumb to it – humming or bursting into song – at least inside my head.
nine years ago the monday of this week was the start. everyone was on their way – sometime during that week. we entertained at our old house each night – and everyone present came for dinners we prepared with an entourage of kitchen helpers. it was a barn raising in every good way.
by the time we actually got married – at the end of the week – we were pretty darn tired. but happiness? it was abundant.
every now and then there is a moment, a snag, a who-are-you-and-what-are-you-doing-here. we all have them. but, in the way of moments, they are momentary. and if i give myself space to think about the passage of time and everything that has brought us to the puny moment, to allow in perspective, i am able to process, to rejuvenate out of puny, back to happiness. ok….not an immediate bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kind of happiness, but a deep-from-within happiness that reminds me of the reason we two people joined. the support, belief and love of our families, friends, community have generously seen us through.
every now and then there is a moment, a wildly astonishing wide-eye, a heart-lifting teary eye, an i-wouldn’t-wanna-be-anywhere-else. and, in the way of moments, it is a gift, a reminder of the unlikeliness of ever having met, a gratitude for how the universe aligned two tiny stars distantly apart, a peek into the big heart – and the sense of humor – of whatever deity you wish to name. those are bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kinds of happiness moments.
each year that we celebrate another year we relive that week preceding our wedding. each year we are grateful. each year we are really aware of happiness … which begets happiness … which begets happiness.
we have one life. one. we get to live this life here once. once.
it would seem prudent to live it united in peace, united about preserving equality and opportunity in the world, united with mindfulness about our environment, about wellness, about virtue.
it would not seem in our best interest to be divided, to be cruel or vicious, to inflict inequalities upon others, to be careless about our earth, to live ugly.
i’m struck – day after day these days – by how ugly ugly can get. there is no bottom bar. instead there is the deepest of evil crevasses from which people mine the power they desire, the control they feed upon, the extreme ugly they intend.
i have lost sleep over this – night after night. i have ranted and i have been horrified. i have wept and i have felt scared.
but I continue to have hope.
hope that there are more and more people – out there – who wish to live in gratitude, who wish to be caring, who lead with kindness, with generosity, who wish to move forward, to keep evolving, who are united by nature, whose nature it is to celebrate being united, who don’t choose to live ugly.
