Poems, Prose, Photos & the Art of Being Human
Children accept the world presented and we adults are responsible for changing what is presented.
Steve McCurry is my favorite photographer due to his stunning photographs and series as well as his focus on the beauty and inequity in this world. This one is from his “Children” series.
Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.
Poetry doesn’t exist to give you prose. It’s this other thing. It is something that has to do with the sound of words, the sound of letters, the spaces between words, letters, how words connect to the mind and to the throat at the same time.
Dale Chihuly‘s glass art is extraordinary: imaginative, kinetic, vibrant and dynamic. Enjoy!
The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next.
(I don’t know what caused that bird-god-Mayan-like shadow as I swam in an otherwise empty pool. I only know I gasped when I saw the photo as if it was Mystery’s reflection, as if it was Divine revelation guiding me if only I could decipher the language.)
The idea of wilderness needs no defense, it only needs defenders.
I awaken each morning torn between a desire to serve and a desire to savor the world. This makes it hard for me to plan the day.
A writer is a writer because, even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.
Carpe diem! and O Captain! my Captain!…phrases that Robin Williams so fully embodied that they inspired our loyalty and people of all walks to seize the day in our blink-of-an-eye lives. On August 11, 2014, we lost one of our best…a man with the courage to make us laugh and the ability to ignite our humanity. After Robin William’s death, impromptu memorials emerged as a way to express our palpable love, appreciation and grief.
He portrayed the complexity of existence even as he blindsided us with laughter and tears.
Robin conveyed our shared stories through different slants: the loving dad with a failed career and marriage; our shared fragility and resilience from the perspective of a teacher, doctor, therapist, lone leader living on the street, radio hero and his solo performance on Broadway, all of which raised our spirits and deepened our compassion.
Robin Williams was the most brilliant comic of our era with his mercurial mind and physicality. He disarmed and enlivened us with rapid-fire humor and astute observations and connections while making us laugh in the face of our mortality and circumstance.
Though suicide affects a family for generations, perhaps Robin saw this quick death as the most loving choice rather than “burdening” his immediate family with the ruthless decline that Parkinson’s exacts.
I can only imagine how difficult this choice was given his depth, courage, exceptional mind and generous heart.
And he treated others with an exceptional kindness that has been attested to repeatedly by family, friends and co-workers.
Both College of Marin and Julliard drama students benefit from Robin Williams scholarships, and he regularly broke the “normal” separation between film “artists” and “crew,” such as when he offered a crew member half of his candy bar. As he split the candy, Robin said, “Look, two bars in one!”
I offer these photographs from a memorial in front of the house in which Mrs. Doubtfire was filmed. With gratitude and love to Robin and deep sorrow for his family and loved ones.
Oh, Captain, my Captain, thank you!
And may each of you seize the day!
GALLOPING
when I ride give me not a saddle but the force of blood-filled muscles moving against my thighs and salt- wet hair rubbing moist threads from jeans let me not ride to save myself from walking but to fill with wind and thunder as we gallop pressed so close hooves and breath our mine
Thank you to the editor of Something Like Homesickness for first publishing this poem.
Elizabeth Oakley Weaver 