Sparkle Plenty

Another year comes to an end.  To tell the truth, I have trouble discerning what makes this New Year’s Eve any better than the last one.  Having seen 61 of them, I’ll estimate that I’ve been somewhat politically aware for about 50 of them…and very few have seemed to bring a better year.  And when there have been years that have been better, it has only been in some ways, not in all, and the improvement has been best measured by a micrometer.

So we start each year with glitz and glamor, hoping against hope that our dreams for a better world will bear some fruit.

Who am I to break such a tradition?

So herewith is my own attempt at a distracting you from any pains you may feel with shiny objects.

About a dozen days ago, we presented at our Women’s Studies lunch gathering a film about the California Indian basket weavers, as part of our ongoing effort at educating about and promoting eco-feminism.  Our theme for the year is Women Saving the Planet.  We’ve had speakers about saving old-growth forest and “green halloween” and the 350 movement.  And we’ve shown some films in series, including Taking Root:  The Vision of Wangari Matthai, Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, Blue Vinyl, and Jane Goodall: Reason to Hope.

And this other short film available here, entitled From the Roots:  California Indian Basketweavers.

As is sometimes my reaction, after learning more about the subject, I made some graphical art.

When reality sucks and attempts to change that reality are met with derision and/or apathy, what is a person to do?  Sometimes the realm of fiction is a good escape.

I’ve had this piece in production since before I decided to give up the fight and stop working to improve that reality.  Let someone else take up the fight and put their heart on the line, to be stomped on and shredded time and again.  And I thought I should probably finish it and share it with those who desire some closure.

The fact that it is connected to the Transgender Day of Remembrance may give it some relevance.

The Engineer noted the curve in the happentracks ahead.  Sie pulled the cord which let loose a trumpetful of sound.  The Passenger awoke suddenly.  The Storyteller and the Listener looked outward.

Suddenly the train began to slow.  In the cab the Engineer cast a worried look at the Brakeman.  The Brakeman had a bony countenance…

Bloodletting:



(Click on image for larger view)

The muses are ancient.  The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them.  Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward.  In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse.  Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets.  Others have been suggested throughout the centuries.  I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts.  And maybe there should be many more.

I know you have talent.  What sometimes is forgotten is that being practical is a talent.  I have a paucity for that sort of talent in many situations, though it turns out that I’m a pretty darn good cook.  🙂  

Let your talent bloom.  You can share it here.  Encourage others to let it bloom inside them as well.

Won’t you share your words or art, your sounds or visions, your thoughts scientific or philosophic, the comedy or tragedy of your days, the stories of doing and making?  And be excellent to one another!

Once upon a time, way back at Forest Hills Elementary School in Lake Oswego, Oregon, we were taught about the native peoples of the Pacific Northwest.  Included in that was the Whitman Massacre by members of the Cayuse and Umatilla tribes, who blamed the Whitmans for bringing measles to them along with their religion.  I remember going to the library and reading, among other things, about the Nez Perce and how they were treated by our government.  They now have a reservation in Idaho and who usually call themselves the Nimiipuu.

Out of such things are activists born.

I became, at that moment a firm believer that people should have equal rights in the eyes of the government, that nobody should be treated as second-class citizens, or worse.

Muse in the Morning

Scribbles:



(Click on image for larger view)

The muses are ancient.  The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them.  Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward.  In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse.  Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets.  Others have been suggested throughout the centuries.  I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts.  And maybe there should be many more.

I know you have talent.  What sometimes is forgotten is that being practical is a talent.  I have a paucity for that sort of talent in many situations, though it turns out that I’m a pretty darn good cook.  🙂  

Let your talent bloom.  You can share it here.  Encourage others to let it bloom inside them as well.

Won’t you share your words or art, your sounds or visions, your thoughts scientific or philosophic, the comedy or tragedy of your days, the stories of doing and making?  And be excellent to one another!

Muse in the Morning

Starburst Memories:



(Click on image for larger view)

The muses are ancient.  The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them.  Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward.  In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse.  Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets.  Others have been suggested throughout the centuries.  I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts.  And maybe there should be many more.

I know you have talent.  What sometimes is forgotten is that being practical is a talent.  I have a paucity for that sort of talent in many situations, though it turns out that I’m a pretty darn good cook.  🙂  

Let your talent bloom.  You can share it here.  Encourage others to let it bloom inside them as well.

Won’t you share your words or art, your sounds or visions, your thoughts scientific or philosophic, the comedy or tragedy of your days, the stories of doing and making?  And be excellent to one another!

Muse in the Morning

Brocade 1:



(Click on image for larger view)

The muses are ancient.  The inspirations for our stories were said to be born from them.  Muses of song and dance, or poetry and prose, of comedy and tragedy, of the inward and the outward.  In one version they are Calliope, Euterpe and Terpsichore, Erato and Clio, Thalia and Melpomene, Polyhymnia and Urania.

It has also been traditional to name a tenth muse.  Plato declared Sappho to be the tenth muse, the muse of women poets.  Others have been suggested throughout the centuries.  I don’t have a name for one, but I do think there should be a muse for the graphical arts.  And maybe there should be many more.

I know you have talent.  What sometimes is forgotten is that being practical is a talent.  I have a paucity for that sort of talent in many situations, though it turns out that I’m a pretty darn good cook.  🙂  

Let your talent bloom.  You can share it here.  Encourage others to let it bloom inside them as well.

Won’t you share your words or art, your sounds or visions, your thoughts scientific or philosophic, the comedy or tragedy of your days, the stories of doing and making?  And be excellent to one another!