Archives for category: Beautiful

Public domain image, royalty free stock photo from www.public-domain-image.com

In view of the recent sufferings and the accompanying feelings of oneness I would like to offer the quote below from the Baha’i Writings, revealed by Baha’u’llah (whose name means the Glory of God) with hopes it will lighten hearts that are heavy. esther

CXXX: Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in…

Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity. Be worthy of the trust of thy neighbor, and look upon him with a bright and friendly face. Be a treasure to the poor, an admonisher to the rich, an answerer of the cry of the needy, a preserver of the sanctity of thy pledge. Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be unjust to no man, and show all meekness to all men. Be as a lamp unto them that walk in darkness, a joy to the sorrowful, a sea for the thirsty, a haven for the distressed, an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression. Let integrity and uprightness distinguish all thine acts. Be a home for the stranger, a balm to the suffering, a tower of strength for the fugitive. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be an ornament to the countenance of truth, a crown to the brow of fidelity, a pillar of the temple of righteousness, a breath of life to the body of mankind, an ensign of the hosts of justice, a luminary above the horizon of virtue, a dew to the soil of the human heart, an ark on the ocean of knowledge, a sun in the heaven of bounty, a gem on the diadem of wisdom, a shining light in the firmament of thy generation, a fruit upon the tree of humility.

 

Rhythm Of The Universe – Anthem For The World **OFFICIAL**

www.youtube.com

Reader, my on line writers’ group, CHPercolator, prompts Post July 31, 2011:

You mean life is more than material for books?
Seeds of crazy believe
Black marks march across the page
Working like a canine for very little money
Mended, the floor of my soul was finally strong enough to bear my full weight.

The floor of my soul is doing pretty good now, occasionally it has the strength to do an oingo boingo, like a brand new trampoline! Yesterday, my soul went oingo boingo all day. You betchum Red Rider, The funny thing about souls and weight, when you lean into fine tempering your soul through life experience, or just pulling the splinters and shards of same off the floor, once you get it down, get your soul mended strong enough to bear full weight, it becomes gossamer light.

Which brings me to a gossamer event yesterday of two people who found each other, Red and Jan, and their wedding. No black marks march across the page on this wedding; nope letters of every hue; flamboyant pink, awesome yellow and rainbow blue and ultraviolet appeared in the sky.

Some people might say what kind of seed of crazy are you ingesting old girl, and I tell you, most of the time I live in the land of practicality. Years ago I worked like a canine for good money as a secretary in law firms, good law firms, and now I work like a joyous canine for maybe not as much money, but I am like an abused greyhound dog, or Black Beauty the horse, remember Black Beauty, finally out sharing the pasture of words and events and how to do this and write like you talk, sing, dance, you know. You catch my drift.

A lot of people comment on how much I read. Okay I admit turning our one and only walk in closet top shelves into a library, despite the fact that we live in a two-room pool house might be excessive, but they leave such a lovely glow in my heart. Yes, books glow, but I tell you this reader; are you still with me? I tell you, life is more than material for books!

See you around the trails, around the bend.

Girls with Pink Lipstock
(from Miss Halloran, You Carry the Heavy Stuff, p. 53)
By Susan Zucker – June 6, 2011

Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.
They have their beach towels and bathing suits.
They have money for their lunches.
Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.

Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.
They wait in front of the house on Clifton Avenue.
It is the most central, after all.
They wait for that one mom to drive them to the beach.
Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.

Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.
They have arrived at the beach and the ocean is tame.
It is low tide and they spread their blanket and move as one to the sea.
Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.

Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together.
After getting wet they will dry in the sun.
They will apply their pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, and clump together as one.

Susan Zucker attends my writing workshop, “The Courage to Write,” held Monday nights at Ten Thousand Villages store, a fair trade store and a visual poem in surroundings. Susan is a writer and a friend. She grabbed a line from my latest book, You Carry the Heavy Stuff, opened to an essay on Miss Halloran, and girls coming of age theme and took the line, “Girls with pink lipstick, shocking pink lipstick, clump together,” and wrote her own take – I loved it, still do; hooray Susan.

The Legend of The Villa Della Luna

graphics, recipes and prose astound

Look, it’s a Tuesday, just after New Years, an on the run food; sticks to the roof of your mouth and spinal column; no folding, mutilating, stamping, stapling; just throw out 2 slices on whatever, even your knee if you must, grab a knife – slop, spread, seal together, and fist it towards your mouth.

That was before writing workshop, after a walk cut short because stuff calls, and then writing workshop. There’s a book I want to chat about, The Legend of The Villa della Luna which is a book referred to as “The sequel to the Secrets of Pistoulet.

I met this book when i worked for a friend Loretta in Jamestown, western New York, in 1996 or so when she created Literary Tea, an African-American writers (mostly women I think bookstore) and a restaurant. Suffice it to say, her chocolate cake won awards, and the crowed of Lit Tea people all gained 10 pounds, and her place became a hub of great activity.

This book appeared, and I casully opened expecting little, and I gaasped; its a combination of incredible graphics (think Griffin and Sabine) and dear messages and recipes. I sold that book a million times, but never bought one for myself. Last year I was thinking about it, emailed Loretta who is in New Mexico now, for the title. I found The Legend on Amazon, book marked it, forgot about it, until this Christmas when I was so thoughtfully gifted with an Amazon card.

I have the book; it’s amazing, and the part i like is a reference to a tear bottle; won’t say anything else, but I took it to workshop, and we used it for prompts; wonderful. ISBN 1-55670-628-6.

I’m home, dropped off a ton of books at library; picked up reading in Chinese or something like that and a few other things; am gazing to my left at my Port-a-Pug, Christmas gift from a friend, and think, i hear the familiar ding of the microwave; time for dinner and crashing. Nothing earth shattering, but just a hello and my day; great writing from the group today!

Why I like wonderfully written books, such as Tatjana Soli’s The Lotus Eaters (St. Martin’s Press)

From The Lotus Eaters, a novel, by Tatjana Soli

“They drove the empty, hacked roads, dust flying like a long sail of sheer red silk behind them, hanging suspended in the coppery sky. (p. 51)

This is what happened when one left one’s home—pieces of oneself scattered all over the world, no one place every completely satisfied, always a nostalgia for the place left behind. Pieces of her in Vietnam, some in this place of bone. She brought the letter to her nose. The smell of Vietnam: a mix of jungle and wetness and spices and rot. A smell she hadn’t realized she missed. P. 277”

Readers check this out. I am outstanding and joyous at the fertility and unexpected

twists and turns of the artistic mind!

http://myloveforyou.typepad.com/my_love_for_you/

Morning reading, Jalal 14 (Glory-14th day of April – Second day of Ridvan

“Meditate on what the poet hath written: ‘Wonder not, if my Best-Beloved be closer to me than mine own self; wonder at this, that I, despite such nearness, should still be so far from Him.’  ”

                                                          Baha’u’llah (Gleanings, p. 184)

The Festival of Ridvan — the most sacred Baha’i holiday

http://www.bahai.us/

The Festival of Ridvan (Riz-wahn), celebrated from April 21 to May 2, commemorates the anniversary of Baha’u’llah’s declaration in 1863 that He was the Promised One of all earlier religions.

The Ridvan period is bittersweet, as Baha’u’llah was soon to be exiled to Constantinople (now Istanbul, Turkey). Baha’u’llah spent 12 days in a garden in Baghdad visiting with His followers. He named the garden Ridvan, which means “Paradise” or “good pleasure” in Arabic.

The Most Great Festival is, indeed, the King of Festivals. Call ye to mind, O people, the bounty which God hath conferred upon you. Ye were sunk in slumber, and lo! He aroused you by the reviving breezes of His Revelation, and made known unto you His manifest and undeviating Path. — Baha’u’llah

When He entered the garden, Baha’u’llah proclaimed the Festival of Ridvan and made three announcements: First, He forbade His followers to fight to advance or defend the Faith (religious war had been permitted under past religions); second, He declared there would not be another prophet for another 1,000 years; and third, He proclaimed that all the names of God were inherent in all things at that moment.

Baha’u’llah’s arrival in Ridvan and his announcement of the Festival of Ridvan mark the moment when the essence of the Baha’i Faith was expressed.

Baha’is suspend work on the holiest days of Ridvan—the first, ninth and 12th . These mark the day of Baha’u’llah’s arrival in the garden, the arrival of His family and the group’s departure for Constantinople.

Throughout Ridvan, Baha’is gather for devotions and attend social gatherings. In Texas, Perry Productions has been staging a Ridvan pageant for the last 10 years. 

At Ridvan, Baha’is annually elect members of local and national administrative bodies, called Spiritual Assemblies. Baha’u’llah taught that in an age of universal education, there was no longer a need for a special class of clergy. Instead, he provided a framework for administering the affairs of the Faith through a system of elected councils at the local, national and international levels. All Baha’i elections occur through secret ballot and plurality vote, without candidacies, nominations or campaigning.

Angus was a bassett whose belly hung lo, so low, he make Br’er Fox of “He
just don’t do noth’in but stay low” – he make Bre’r Fox look lak he done a
hundred crunches a day. Do I lie? Well maybe but here on the planet, now
zoom in to the United States of America, where lying is a bad word unless it’s
uttered or uddered by a politician who supposedly drinks too much caffeine
and can’t hold his words in.

Call it evolutionary degrade or skin dissolution or sloth, or beings who are so coarse, they’s like a redundant bunch of cattle, but I thank to mahself as I watched last week’s rodeo show where the people were bestially rood to our presdent; and I
think, “They’re toilet trained, ain’t they?”

And the only answer I gave to myself is “Angus has more manners than that
red faced anger ridden man who yelled “Liar.” If they can hold their
piss; why can’t hold their vitriol? Whatevah happened to the Good Book and
high manners and language. Cain’t we find a replacement for chronic belligerence?

I tell you. I miss Angus. I would hold Angus with my arms stretched around his big belly, hold him in tahms of crisis like in today’s world. “Bestial verbosity,” my Aunt Jenny Who Never Had a Wrinkle in Her Life and ate pork every day would say. But Angus, fell in love with a blonde lady who used to run a restoront down on the Avenue, don’t you know, and he went to live with her, cuz she had another Bassett called Blanche, and Angus sort of hand a hunkering and a hankering for Blanche.

At Blanche’s house, they don’t listen to people saying mean things. I’m glad
Angus is happy. Gotta end raht now, as I’m gonna to send an old poster to the
Senate and the Congress, and it is a medium large poster and sort of sepia faded, don’t you know. It shows politicians in diapers with bandages over their mouths, and in the background, which is really faded, is a fuzzy image of a toilet with a hand chain. The slogan is sort of like Uncle Sam needs you? This slogan tho is how to potty train politicians, one mouth at a time.




Friday, March 27, 2009 – Bill and I took a vakashun day; saw SlumDogMillionaire at local theatre ($2.00) a ticket for matinees, grabbed a sandwich at Corner Bakery, walked. beautiful.

Attaching some pictures of Chico in March, and we’ll go back up April 1st, Wed for 3 weeks and then hopefully down for a while. way to look thin: stand pressed against huge tree; it’s bigger than me; whaddya know.

Zoe Marie Fransson – latest edition to earth school; fabulous parents, Angela and Wade, congratulations!

Be safe is your body getting up with you doing its thing, stretching if need be, bending if need be, and just all around running together. The toes gotta go where the feet want it because the brain is the alpha organ of the day, but don’t worry; tomorrow’s the heart’s day and then the heart remembering the brain but caring a bit more will feed you.

Kurt Vonnegut tells us to write 4 line poems to the end of the page which I think comes in handy when the prompts day is over and done with and I didn’t respond. So now, I’ll wish for travel’ in mercies, be safe, wish the world a good warm flannel blanket in the days of cold and wind and a cool breeze and lemonade without Aspartame for hot ones.

“Today’s the day” is every day with some days of feeling horrible, poisoned, bones pulling in and other days when my step, old as it is buoyant, clops along to the library while my mind feels safe because I have energy, and my eyes see the delicate purple etching as jacaranda trees bloom regardless of political pundits punditing and the world following apart I am safe for a bit.

I think we all want to be safe. Put your money where your mouth is, “I want to be safe,” like the bride who wants to cement her groom’s little shiny black shoed feet into the cake deep into white frosting, past the brown moist earth of chocolate, yeah safe like reading the end of books, not matter, even if it’s a math book, but careful, easy does it, don’t want to be robotic.

Safe is the name of a film which I considered earthshaking cuz the lady was white, beautiful (Julianne Moore) and the film was subtle because this lady who lived in California in the Valley, expensive, had immune system responses, and ended up in an igloo type of building in the desert, pale, freckles jumping out of skin, saying I love you to a mirror, and herself, and I KNOW I’VE MADE THIS 5 lines, but safety isn’t always staying between the lines, or sticking to the pattern, because if you were safe, would you turn the wheels of that Kaleidoscope, and see the colors, or hop on the jumper cars and go every which way, or get up in the morning, and have coffee, even though part of your heart was torn out of you because you lost some one, some thing, some concept, some, some, some, and the somes didn’t add up to the sum of your heart’s wanting to be safe, but safe is an inside job you tell yourself, and it’s who you are inside, the one that no one sees, but gets glimmerings of and it’s your world view and your relationship to Your Creator, and safe changes because the soul is always in motion, and safe risks to help others, and being safe is sacrifice on one level, because sacrifice let’s go of something lower for something higher, so safe is having a net, not being without a net like some brave Circus Lady who I might add is trim and lithe, and if she falls, it won’t be like some 500 pound Bubba out there in the neighborhood killing a sidewalk or such. No safe is reaching, trusting, like the trees in the forest with their arms up reached to the sky; safe wants star dust and glimpses of the unseen in the daily. Yeah, safe is feeling okay in your heart, no matter what is happening outside. Safe is a big deal. Yeah, safe, and that’s what I wish for you, for all I love, for those who struggle, labor, strive, keep us safe, for those who fear, because courage is doing it anyhow, whether you are safe or not.


Dorothy Nelson votes for members of Universal House of Justice, Haifa, Israel. John Amir-Abbassi took this picture. Wonderful.

A young friend, Carmel Clavin, is interning at the Middle East Institute and has published an article on Henna which is delightful and informative. She’s on page 5. Check it out!

http://www.mideasti.org/files/March_08.pdf

Canadian architect featured at Yale event on sacred architecture
New Haven, Connecticut, 12 December 2007 (CBNS) — On October 26 and 27th 2007, the Yale School of Architecture held a symposium called, “Constructing the Ineffable: Contemporary Sacred Architecture”. Among the presenters was Fariborz Sahba, Canadian architect of the Bahá’í House of Worship in India and the Terraces of the Shrine of the Báb in Haifa, Israel.


We leave Chico Wednesday, but daily we have walked Bidwell Park, where today a young deer ran by us, in front of us, beautiful. Hopefully I can post some images.

hey one and all; this is an interesting website-hope you enjoy

http://www.trailofpaintedponies.com/



Violetta took pics of us for her photography class!


A son’s photo of his father’s Sodoku. I see divine calibration, numbers metaphor for a soul of an intricate mind. I see numbers bold and shaky, like the psyche’s bookends, fading upwards into a white haze, the haze of the abstract soul, too dimensioned to put lines and borders, and yet a soul who uses numbers as in a love affair with the abstract, the chaotic order of one’s life. I see whimsy, fascination and wonder in the photographer’s view, the unexpected, unexplained, but definitely, do not lose this image in history’s sloughing off of past moments. I see image and moment and Basquat’s suggestive art, and above all I see love of the man for the son, and the son’s Golden Braille Images touching upon a small piece of our world in wonder.

No-Sew Friendship Dolls: Easy to Make “No-Sew” Dolls that Teach about “Unity in Diversity”. The dolls are made out of rolled strips of paper and can be dressed in all types of diverse costumes. Parents and teachers can make these dolls very detailed to give as gifts or to decorate a classroom in an international theme. Children ages 8-12 can make them with very little assistance, and younger children can make them with adult help.
Puffy Pictures: Children can transform their drawings into large pillows or small little gifts.
Prayer and Virtue Cards: A fun way for your child to learn memorization skills. They can be used at spiritual gatherings like Feast or everyday at bedtime. Make a few at a time and create a collection which can be passed along from child to child.
“World Traveling” Teddy: Send your Toy on a Global Adventure! An exciting project for one child to do, or for an entire classroom of children. A teddybear is suggested, but I don’t see why other types of stuffed animals couldn’t be substituted. The basic idea is that the bear is like a “message in a bottle” that is thrown into the ocean, but in this case will be carried from place to place by travelers to distant lands.

The painting is what I would think of future human being, man, generically,

The artist is Alice Thaggard, and this painting is called “Eye of Delight”.

Carmel, once pictured in my book Without A Net: A Sojourn in Russia, sitting next to Puggy who had his tongue hanging out of his mouth and looked frustrated because he was dressed up as a bride, and she sat next to him with her tongue out, is now grown up and her hands and possibly legs are featured. She is a model for henna tattooing, and she goes to Kent State-great modeling job for a student; you go girl!

http://www.mehandi.com/shop/index.html

http://www.hennapage.com/