I am hungry for white
The clear purity of a blank page
The spotless clean of a cotton gown
Fresh fallen snow
Unbeaten hard-boiled eggs
A calendar in January.
I am hungry for white
The absence of darkness
A second chance
A friend of Light.

My "little guys" and I are sending Light to our Extraordinary Friend 

Dr. Brad Harris.

I took this picture just 4 days ago. Today there are no leaves left. It truly seems like it happened over night. Good thing I took the picture when I did.

We like Elizabeth Warren because she has money smarts.

I realize there is something honest about trees in the fall, 

how they're experts at letting go
― inspired by Jeffrey McDaniel (via Courtney Putnam)

Life and Death Always With Us

Cannot think of the word!

Can you think of the word,

You nerd?

It's on the tip of your tongue,

You bum.

I ask my cat

She just smirks,

She never knew the word.

I shout to the heavens above,

"What is the word, for the love of God,

What 

Is 

the word?!"

Silence thunders down

Making me curse....

It even hurts!

I want to cry

I finally try 

to

      forget

the 

   whole 

          damn

                   thing.

          Stop!

                Wait!

That's it!

That 

  is 

        it!

Waiting in the wings

She was there all along

Hidden behind my muse.

ALONE by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view. 

Ferlinghetti's The world is a beautiful place...{1958}

              The world is a beautiful place

                                                        to be born into

if you don't mind happiness

                                         not always being

                                                                   so very much fun

       if you don't mind a touch of hell

                                                    now and then

                just when everything is fine

                                                          because even in heaven

                                they don't sing

                                                     all the time

              The world is a beautiful place

                                                          to be born into

       if you don't mind some people dying 

                                                                all the time

                          or maybe only starving

                                                            some of the time

                     which isn't half bad

                                                   if it isn't you

         Oh the world is a beautiful place

                                                            to be born into

                  if you don't much mind

                                                    a few dead minds

                       in the higher places

                                                     or a bomb or two

                               now and then

                                                     in your upturned faces

              or such other improprieties

                                                       as our Name Brand society

                                             is prey to

                                                          with its men of distinction

                      and its men of extinction

                                                           and its priests

                                  and other patrolmen

                                                                and its various segregations

                 and congressional investigations

                                                                    and other constipations

                               that our fool flesh

                                                              is heir to

            Yes the world is the best place of all

                                                                     for a lot of such things as 

                  making the fun scene

                                                        and making the love scene

      and making the sad scene

                                            and singing low songs and having inspirations

                and walking around

                                                looking at everything

                                                                               and smelling flowers

               and goosing statues

                                             and even thinking

                                                                       and kissing people and

                    making babies and wearing pants

                                                                      and waving hats and

                                                   dancing

                                                              and going swimming in rivers

                                           on picnics

                                                   in the middle of the summer

                       and just generally

                                                    'living it up' 

             Yes

               but then right in the middle of it 

                                                              comes the smiling

                                                   mortician 

                             

 - From "Cony Island of the Mind," by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Books

Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion and the last. 

Samuel Johnson

Wilson Point Lighthouse

Old bright sandy shores

and ancient rocks raise her up

History's Lighthouse.

Polly Mansfield 1932-2012

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.
                        - Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)

Vein of Gold

Incredible, 

How words can grab the day.

One word, connected in a new way 

To another,

And we discover 

Simple but profound offerings.

A piece in the puzzle can fall into place.

Connections have been there all along,

But required

A shift in perception. 

Each time a word gets recombined,

Reemphasized,

It becomes new.

Set apart in a new perspective,

A Eureka moment stands on

Your own doorstep,

A new path opens to 

Your inner vein of gold.

You might find this life-raft

Easier to steer if you

Open your heart and close your eyes.

Dream up the 

Path not yet taken.

Fall 2012

Dahlias light a fire in my 

memory today,

preparing me for the inevitable

Chill to come.

An Invitation to Write

Peter's Limerick

There once was a pair from Seattle

Whose teeth one day started to rattle

When Jordan’s New Tours

Took them over the moors

They found the drive rather a battle

Moments of Utopia

Maybe Utopia is not a place we can go. Maybe we cannot create one, no matter how hard we try. But I do think I have experienced hints of Utopia several times in my life. Maybe I cannot recreate those moments, but in the end, they add up to the best life I can have.

The Ascension by Claudia Mauro

On occasion

a mushroom will shoulder

through asphalt.

Likewise an occasional

blade of grass casts aside

a slab of stone and rises,

not unlike the stories

one hears about Jesus.

And it is every bit

as good a story

and worth celebrating,

even though they

never heard of Jesus

and are only doing

what the living do

when moving

towards light,

against desperate

and impossible odds.

               - Claudia Mauro from "Small Women Who Think Big" ©1997

Search for Peace

The breath of Peace could quiet my day, if I could find it.

But where does it exist in this turmoil?  How do I find it amidst this noise?

A siren races to meet Death at an accident; a jet brings a CEO to a crucial conference nearby; a truck downshifts to make that curve, on the freeway going ...

Going somewhere. 

The sounds are divorced from me, yet they penetrate every nerve. The leaf blower might as well be in my living room, considering the disturbance it causes in my aura. 

Is my Peaceful breath high above this cacophony somewhere?  Or is found only  buried beneath it all in a quiet grave of slumber?  It is imperative that I find it, as often as possible. A walk in the woods, iPod music, a constant search for that "Peace which passeth all understanding." The part that "passes all understanding" is this: why have we let the world get so LOUD!

Let Me Avoid the Abyss!

Groping frantically for a hand-
Craving peace found souly in communication.
Searching everywhere, running to and away,
Tearlessly crying, pleading with blueskies, blacknights
          and life -
"Let me avoid the Abyss!"

Then He came to gently guide me
Into his realm.

The candle was lit
Forms grew on the wall
Flickering phantasmagoria
Blending insensibly
Conceiving new impressions with essence of old.

The Abyss becomes a Universe.
                                        -CJA  March 1968-

How can we keep things in focus in this
Year of the Lie?
Who can you trust?
I trust my cat.

The Best Ideas

I sit in Wonderland

Where the "livin' is easy"

And the cool kids always have

The best ideas.

I'm cool too, but no one knows.

Light shoots from my fingers

Sunshine paints my toes.  I

Have ideas.

Feeling lost one day,

I sought shelter in 

A forest of words and waited for

The weather to change.

I waited and 

Waited.

Push harder, I admonished

Look deeper, I demanded.

But still I was lost

Still I hid under the words.

Darkness rained.

Gradually the storm passed,

A whisper gathered in my heart.

Rest easy, you are not lost, she said.

Your ideas will guide you.

Rest easy and listen.

So I found my way that day.

With stars in my hair

And the moon to light my way,

I learned to listen

And I learned to hear

The best ideas. 

Today Summer Feels Endless

A Desk of One's Own

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

                                    -Mary Oliver

Beauty in Death

"Death is an event that represents the permanent cessation of all biological 

functions that sustain a living organism." 

But death of the organism does not mean the death of beauty. 

A rose is still a rose.

I Love My Sister

Mother Nature Celebrates the Color Green

Absolute Yearning

Is this

Absolute yearning,

Born of notes

Dropped from Infinity

Into my questioning heart?

Or is my Soul hiding

Hints within my 

Thirsty thoughts?

I guess I am just 

Destined to 

Forever lament 

My stunning 

Foolishness.

- Bitsy, Lumpy & friends taking a nap

 Yellow Point 2012 -

Drawn into the tempest, 

As a Seeker,

My voracious appetite for meaning

Tosses me on waves of information.

My quest propels me forward until

Finally, joy and relief

Greet me on the shore of 

Understanding,

As I embrace a

Moment of unity 

With The One who

Knows all. 

Praying

It doesn't have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

                         - From "Thirst" by Mary Oliver 

"... Conviction demands courage, and courage is the lifeblood of change."

                                                                                   -David Schimke, Utne Editor

Reach out 

Question all

Learn

Live, grow, change.

This is your destiny,

Your fatal attraction.

                                      - CJH

Centrifugal Forces

Once, 

Before time began,

We crossed the Universe

To create

A focus upon our very own

Precious existence, 

Singing

I  I  I

We we we

Me Me Me.

When the prison of

Our beliefs began to

Massively distort reality,

We could no longer find the

Path to peace. 

Still, 

We sang

I We Me.

Whirling Dervish Chaos 

Continued to spin 

Out of control

And the complex pattern

of our daily lives

Chained us to an

Ultimate despair.

Still, 

We chanted

i - i -i

we - we - we

me - me - me.

A Plea to the Far Right

Your displeasure is an anchor

Weighing me down.

How can you be so unfeeling?

I will never understand your

Hatred, your unwillingness to see.

It boggles my mind

Every time I hear you speak. 

Each year you grow more

       and more deaf.

When the crowds cry out in  

despair, you turn away.

Release them now.

Stop talking,

Now.

Just stop talking.

Opinion of Brit Friend Peter

August 14 2012

Dear Carol Jo,

This morning we woke up to the news that Mitt Romney has chosen Paul Ryan as his running mate.  His choice does not make us sleep soundly at nights.  The thought that he might be a heartbeat away from the world’s most powerful job is even more frightening than the thought that Mitt Romney might be the President.

The next thing we heard is that Paul Ryan is holding up our National Health Service as an example of all that is bad about Europe and he claims that the NHS proves that Obama’s health scheme is a bad idea.

Now I work for the British healthcare regulator.  I feel that I must contradict Mr Ryan.  The main thing wrong with the NHS is that it is under-funded by our Government which is afraid to raise enough tax to do the job properly.  This leads to waiting lists for non-urgent treatments. If it was properly funded (say 10% more than the present expenditure), the waiting lists would be solved and the NHS would still be much cheaper than the US healthcare system per head of population.  The principle of universal healthcare works just fine; politicians of both right and the left agree on this.  If the NHS was funded by compulsory insurance instead of tax (like Germany does it), it would be great.  By contrast, US healthcare is the most expensive in the world but fails to reach a large minority of the population, and this is a direct result of allowing the insurance and pharmacological industries to run healthcare.  

Even with its limitations, the NHS is a shining example to the USA.  The German system is even better.

I heard that Republicans have said that the British hate the NHS.  I’ve never met any Brit who said that.

The truth is, we love our NHS, even while we grumble that it is under-funded.  The NHS started when I was a child and has looked after me ever since.  As I have grown older, I have had a lot of expensive treatment which was free to me.  I never had anything that wasn’t essential, and I didn’t have luxury accommodation in hospital, but when I needed the NHS, it was there for me.

Paul Ryan says that the NHS encourages dependency.  This is obvious nonsense.  You could argue that childcare payments encourage teenage pregnancy; you could argue that unemployment payments encourage idleness; but you can’t seriously suggest that universal healthcare encourages people to get sick or old.

I don’t think anyone here will feel insulted by Paul Ryan’s words.  We are accustomed to US politicians who are ignorant of the world outside the USA.  But we are angry that he is spreading lies for political gain.  He claims that European successes are failures!

US citizens need to understand that the USA is the country with the big problem, not Britain.  Britain, like most other civilised countries, has universal healthcare.  It’s not perfect, but it works.  The USA does not have universal healthcare, and it has great difficulty working out how to move from the present expensive mess to something better.  There are good examples in Europe of how to do it better and cheaper.

Paul Ryan is trying to frighten US voters with the phrase “European style Socialism”.  “Socialism” isn’t a word we use much, because it can mean whatever you want it to mean, from a minimal concern for welfare to state tyranny.  We in Europe argue over how much the government should intervene to prevent poverty, but we find the discussions go better when we avoid vague terms like “Socialism”.

Finally, why should any US voter listen to a Brit?  Well, you elect them and we have to put up with them blundering around the world for 4 years.  We suffer the consequences of your votes.  I just want you to elect someone who doesn’t blunder.  Obama would be my choice, if I had a choice.

Warmest regards,

Peter

Preview of the 1913 Miller Diary

Wednesday, Jan. 1, 1913
Resolved:-
Since I will become of age during 1913 I have resolved to make a man of myself and also a gentleman.  This involves many things but I believe I can carry them out. 
 E.C. Miller.

(This little diary was written almost 100 years ago by a young man living on Capitol Hill in Seattle. He was attending the University of Washington in Engineering. I believe it is a valuable piece of history that I want to share with the world on his behalf. I will post it here in time to greet 2013.)

Fantasy Friday

You can find me in the forest

See me behind a tree

Kicking at a root

Up to my neck

In time enough.

I'm dressed to the Nines

With tiara and tails

Paired with taffeta top and

Heels of gold,

Fit for a Queen,

Perfectly 

             me.