At the last protest march my husband and I attended, he took this picture. All I can say in response to this man’s t-shirt is “Amen.” You don’t truly appreciate intelligent, rational discourse, presidential integrity, compassion or a president’s impeccable sense of humor until those things are gone. We are living in a time of stark contrasts, hoping the pendulum will swing us back toward sanity and an opportunity to restore all that’s being torn down, torn asunder, or trampled.
A break from the cacophony and chaos, looking into this face.
“He fed me raindrops from a white rose petal.”
Ample make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.
Be its mattress straight,
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise’ yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.
It definitely feels like we are at a defining point in our nation, in our political life. The political is absolutely personal, and it reaches into every home and psyche. As an artist and as an academic, I ask myself how my own resistance will continue to manifest. There’s power in images and in words, which we’re finding out in ways we’d never imagined before.
It’s the first day of Spring, although it doesn’t feel like it. So many dark things going on. It makes the growing length of days feel dimmer. So, I pull my focus inward and take some deep breaths. The sky has grown overcast with an impending rainstorm, but the rain is much needed in this drought-stricken area in spite of potential mudslides.