Messages for Mother's Day

In this age of highly targeted, individualized marketing, the number and frequency of marketing messages I receive about Mother's Day take me by surprise. "Celebrate Mom." "Color your mother's world." "Brighten her day with flowers." These messages come via email, direct mail, and in person. I purchased periwinkles at a local nursery last week, and the store employee who assisted me said, "Just in time for Mother's Day."

My mother died seven years ago. I find it surreal, on the one hand, to receive all these reminders about Mothers' Day--and, instructive, on the other. Surreal, because I miss her still, because her absence is as alive as it ever was. I loved shopping for something to "brighten her day, color her world, and celebrate" the woman who was my mother, my teacher, my friend, and my soul's companion. And instructive, because these messages make me stop and remember . . . . not only Mother's Days past, but so many other days and memories connected to my mother.

As most children do, I wanted to be able to "surprise" her with something on Mother's Day. Yet I was as often the one surprised, because my mother used Mother's Day to "color my world" with a message of her own. More often than not, until illness stilled her hand, she would write me a note, telling me how grateful she was to have me as a daughter, to have become a mother for the first time with my birth.

Then, one day, a child was born to me. A son. Who, during these past 30 years, has been my son, my friend, my teacher, my soul's companion. He is a great note-writer, too. (It must run in the family.) I have kept one of his notes by my desk for more than 20 years, and every year it means more. It represents all we need to say to our mothers on Mother's Day--and other days. It represents everything I would say to my mother if she were here today and everything I would say to her, could I see her on the other side of this life. If your mother has moved on ahead of you to the next world, and you, like me, wish you could send her a present that would somehow break through the borderland between here and heaven, then print out this note, penciled by a child just learning to write on a remnant of colored paper. Whisper its contents, say them, sing them, write them on a balloon and send it flying. Or, if your mother is still with you here, then write these very words on any piece of paper, and hand them to her. There may be other gifts that your mother would like, but none more necessary or more complete than this:

Text and images, copyright Ysabel de la Rosa, 2008

Overdue Looks, Part 2

You'll have reading material to last a long time when you purchase The Weight of Addition, an anthology of Texas poets published by Mutabilis Press, founded and managed by Bob and Carolyn Florek. I haven't been to a poetry reading in years, but recently participated in the poetry reading in Denton, Texas, that featured poets published in The Weight of Addition. I had forgotten how nice, how inspiring, how dramatic, and how essential it is to hear poetry read aloud.

The reading took place at the Center for Visual Arts in Denton, a lively and vibrant center for the arts in this university town, a center that truly serves the community with visual and performing art. If you live nearby, think about becoming a member, or at least pay a visit to see the exhibits by renowned artists in many media.

The next reading featuring poets published in TWOA will take place at Follett's Intellectual Property (what a great name for a book store) in Austin, Texas, Friday, April 25, 5 p.m.

You should come. Why, you ask?

Well, here is one reason I have for why I plan to attend. At the end of the Denton poetry reading, I was struck by how the words we read aloud changed the space around us. According to the particular poem read and according to how it was read by its author, the words would soften, open, deepen, animate, even quiet, the space. The words united us, the audience, as we listened--together--leaning forward in our chairs. When the afternoon came to a close, I found myself thinking two thoughts in rapid succession. The first: Poets can change the world, can reroute it, even when that possibility seems impossible, undoable, unapproachable. And the second: We are the world, we poets, we introverts who all went to the back of the stage when it was time for a group picture. And it's a good world, by and large, the one poets make.

So, why not visit that world for a dose of poetic change at Follet's on April 25, the 25th day of National Poetry Month.

No Corner on Crucifixion

Feeling overwhelmed (and underprivileged) by the political scene in the United States has made me reconsider certain areas of my life. It has made me ask, as I imagine Zen Master Suzuki would be asking his students now, "How will I shine my corner of the world?"

While I believe that acting in the political environment is crucial, I increasingly find myself in a political environment where I believe that my action matters little. In the midst of the hub-bub, there are oh so many voices talking to us about politics, providing insight, direction, desperation, confusion. I will never not vote . . . but I have been feeling that my one vote only barely constitutes action for a better world on my part.

Then, I thought of the Dalai Lama, probably the most advanced spiritual leader on our planet at this time. A leader in the country of souls, the place where we all hold citizenship and there are no "aliens." He is a man of great intelligence, warmth, high spiritual awareness, deep soul awareness, and an amazing psychologist of human heart and mind. His childhood was taken from him, as he was chosen for and delivered into his position. His country was taken from him. And yet. And yet. The lives he has touched are without number. The spiritual teaching he has made available to people who will never set foot in his homeland is remarkable. You cannot study it and not be changed for the better. You cannot listen to it and not become stronger for it.

China's recent totalitarian and violent response to what it has called a "public disturbance staged by the Dalai Clique" is more than an international incident. The lies uttered from the thin, smiling lips of Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao at yesterday's "Western-style" press conference are not the sign of one more government cover-up, but something profoundly disturbing on a spiritual plane.

China's current script of lies is nothing less than an attempt at a verbal and psychological "crucifixion" of one of the greatest proponents of world peace ever to have lived. Make no mistake about it. The Chinese have been unable to destroy the Dalai Lama's country, culture, leadership, or religious teachings. And they want to, just as surely as the people who lost money when Jesus came to town and cleaned up the temple wanted to get rid of that trouble maker.

Crucifixion is not only an historical event. It is also a moral and psychological reality. One that China is activating. Christians do not have a corner on it, although Christ-like and high spiritual beings are exposed to it more often than the rest of humanity, in both its moral and physical forms.

I hope that others will join me in sending love and light to the Dalai Lama, and in praying for his physical and spiritual protection during this trying time.

On a more practical note, and being sure that the great Eastern land will not notice, I plan to refrain from buying Chinese goods. It won't be easy, because we are inundated with them. I stopped shopping at Walmart years ago. Now, I just need to complete the process. It's my tiny version of throwing the money changers out of the temple, and trying, in some concrete way, to stand by a great soul who has profoundly touched my life and those of people I love.

Another thing we can do is log on to Credo and send a message to our congressman or congresswoman, here. And visit the Students for a Free Tibet website here.

Felíz Día del Amor y de la Amistad

Two Hearts Grown Tall

Ysabel de la Rosa, 2008

Once again, we find deep meaning in a small turn of language from our neighbor to the south. In Mexico, Valentine's Day is also called The Day of Love and Friendship. Can either ever truly exist without the other?

Doing our Homework Can Save the World

I was going to make this post exclusively literary, but politics has us all in its grip right now, and with good reason. We need to be in the grip of politics if we as voters are going to play a meaningful role in democracy. I've been involved in many conversations lately about the candidates for President of the United States. I found myself swaying and being swayed until I finally adopted the strategy I apply to most of my decision-making to my decision on how I plan to vote in my own upcoming primary. Homework.

That's right. That old fashioned activity called study. Doing our homework. Don't just vote for a candidate because you like them. Our liking a candidate is not a qualification for leadership. It seems counter-intuitive and anti-natural, but it's true.

Like is Not Enough
If your loved one has cancer, do you want them to see an oncologist you like, or do you want them to see the most highly skilled and experienced oncologist you can find? Sure, it's nice if you like your doctor, but liking the médico won't save your life.

I had an accountant once whom I liked a lot, but he did a terrible job with my accounting. Liking him was certainly not reason enough to continue using him and jeopardize my finances.

Saint Teresa wrote that we waste a great deal of energy on "liking" and "disliking" things, experiences, and people; that there is a more important reality beyond what we like. (See the excellent book by Dwight Judy, Embracing God, for more information on St. Teresa's writing.)

My Liking Took a Licking
I've just started my own homework, and it has made me change my views on who I will vote for and why. It's actually been an humbling experience. I was pretty sure of myself, but that sureness was not based on good homework. I was basing my decision on "liking" the candidate, and not on understanding the candidate and their stands, plans, and records.

The Assignment
We have a great deal of information available to us now. The candidates' sites hand us their stands on issues and plans for government on a virtual silver platter, and in more than one language. We need to take the time to read those. And think about them after we read them.

The candidates' faces and body language are in view everyday and in countless places / media. We need to study those, too. What do we see in their eyes? What do we see in their smile? How do their voices sound to us when we close our eyes? Do they ring true? Do they sound strong enough and smart enough to weather the tremendous storms that come with being the President of the US?

We need to listen closely to their words. We need not to be satisfied with a slogan, however appealing. What do the candidates say about those things that are wounding our country: the lack of adequate health care; the thousands dying in Iraq; our precarious relationship with Iran and North Korea; the colossal loss of jobs to outsourcing; the subprime mortgage crisis; the environment. And, are their messages consistent over a period of time?

Does this homework represent work for us? Indeed it does. But democracy does not just happen. It's not given. It's earned. Earned by we, the people.

It's Important
I know we are all stressed, we all have lots to do, but we owe it to ourselves, our country, our children, and even the rest of the world, to use this time right now to become students of good government, to do our homework. This is not an extra, but an essential. We need to remember that we are not voting for a class favorite or a homecoming king and queen, but for a person who will lead our nation into a period of positive transformation.


To read candidates´stances on issues, visit the links below. Although Edwards and Romney have suspended their campaigns, reading their stands on key issues is still informative :

Hillary Clinton
Mike Huckabee
John McCain
Barack Obama
Ron Paul
John Edwards
Mitt Romney

And remember: A poorly informed democracy really isn't one.

Text, copyright Ysabel de la Rosa, 2008
Image, clipart.com

Overdue Looks, Part 1

I have been meaning for some time now to draw attention to some very special literary magazines. The first is Eclipse. This is edted by Bart Edelman and published at Glendale Community College in Glendale, California. It is published annually and is quite a treat. I thought the cover of their 2007 edition was riveting. When the journal arrived in my mailbox, I took it out and just stared at the cover a good long while. The cover art is by Jean Jack, and the design by Greg Parks. Susan Cisco designed the interior of the publication. All beautiful work.

Some of the writers and selections I enjoyed most in this issue:

J. R. Solonche, Portrait of the Dickinson Children, Silver
Emily herself would have appreciated Solonche's perceptive translation of her physical being.

Robert Gallagher, Papa Dog
Great use of rhythm.

Jackie Bartley, Time at the Speed of Light: An Apology
Artful writing about love, not something easy to do.

Allison Carb Sussman, At the Roman Colosseum
Her last stanza is a poem within a poem, worth memorizing!

Janet McCann, The Argument
Zen-like and powerful.

Lee Rossi, California Orange Light Sutra
"Love it so deep / the fist unmakes itself."

Joanne Lowery, To Arrive at Ellis Island
Anyone who has left one country to live in another can get "inside" this haunting poem.

Two of my poems were included in the 2007 edition of Eclipse, "Response to Valentine," and "Beginnings of a Season."

The journal does not have a website, but you can order a copy of the beautiful and inspiring 2007 issue for $8. Send check to Eclipse: A Literary Journal, Glendale Community College, 1500 North Verdugo Road, Glendale, CA 91208 or email eclipse@glendale.edu

Subtle as a Bandage

The year was 1970. My mother was having lunch with a colleague, a male African American. He had invited her to lunch and expected to pay for the meal. When they were done, the waitress handed the check to my mother. As the waitress walked away, my mother's colleague said to her: "It´s the subtle forms of racism that worry me most. For example, the 'flesh-colored Band-Aid.'" He paid for lunch, and they went back to work.

Subtle? Hillary Clinton´s comment to Barack Obama: "Dr. King's dream began to be realized when President Johnson passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964, when he was able to get through Congress something that President Kennedy was hopeful to do. . . . it took a president to get it done. That dream became a reality, the power of that dream became a reality in people's lives because we had a president who said we are going to do it, and actually got it accomplished."

Subtle? A very bright high school student wrote to me: "I can find no hypocrisy in the Founding Fathers just because they owned slaves; one cannot hold to be equal what one holds to be property, it'd make as much sense as me saying that a light-bulb deserved equal-rights. Not that Negroes are light-bulbs but that's putting it in modern terms."

Subtle? I placed an envelope to Mexico on the post office counter yesterday. I put a customs slip on the envelope, stating that there were documents inside. The postal clerk said to me, "Oh, Mexicans are literate?"

Yes, as subtle as a beige, "flesh-colored" Band-Aid.

It´s the 21st Century. And it´s simple, really. We just need to all be human together. There is no "they." There is only a "we." There is not even an I. It´s just we. If we can understand that subtlety, then we´ll have much less need of Band-Aids of any color.


Band-Aid is a registered trademark of the Johnson & Johnson Company.
Image, Ysabel de la Rosa, copyright 2008.

Marvel

These photos were taken recently by photographer and artist Robert Greeson in Antarctica. I stopped breathing when I saw them for the first time. They are unaltered--as our earth also needs to be. Enjoy them. Contemplate them. Appreciate them and the world they reveal, the world it is up to us to preserve, honor, and protect.

Images copyright 2008, Robert Greeson, all rights reserved.

Welcome to the New Year

The merry year is born
Like the bright berry from the naked thorn.
--Hartley Coleridge

New Year´s Day is every person´s birthday.
--Charles Lamb

Be at war with your vices,
at peace with your neighbors,
and let each year find you a better person.
--Benjamin Franklin

Photo by Ysabel de la Rosa, copyright 2007.

De regalo

You've probably seen one of the Free Hugs videos. I saw one from Mexico last week, and once again found myself richer for a language lesson. The Spanish phrase for Free Hug is Abrazo de regalo. De regalo. It means as a gift. There is no reference to cost or no-cost. It is a gift.

It set me thinking, in this season marked by giving--this season often turned into buying in order to give--how so often our lives fall into patterns of sales. Sell and succeed. Buy and own. If we buy enough services and "stuff" from each other, we will all be successful, so the current culture says, acts, advises.

But what if? What if we just gave? Let's say I need shoes and you need a coat. What if I give you a coat that I have that I don't need and you give me a pair of shoes? What if I need an understanding ear, and you need someone to pick up soup for you at the store because you have a cold and shouldn't be out in the weather? What if you listen to me and my dilemma for an hour, giving me a sounding board and an outlet, and what if I go to the store for you, helping you to protect your health?

Couldn't we accomplish the very same results by giving to each other as we often do by selling to each other?

Do you realize how special a regalo it is to give someone words of encouragement? To compliment rather than complain? To accept rather than judge? Or, give the most valuable gift of all--give your time to and for friends and family and persons in need. Just that. Just time, the stuff of life.

Giving has nothing to do with our budgets and everything to do with how we choose to live our lives. It may be the one infallible key to a successful and satisfying life, along with the other key, that of being humble and grateful upon receiving a gift from someone else.

Not at all a new idea. But still revolutionary, enlightened. And possible.

My best wishes for you and yours this holiday season. May many good things and experiences come your way in the new year de regalo.


Text copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa
Image copyright Amanda Rhodes, from istock.com
Image is not digitally altered.

How much more can they take?

Just in from the European Journalism Center Newsletter:

Iran: Use of the word women ‘banned from state TV’

The word 'women' must now be replaced on Iranian state television by 'family', reformist Norouz news agency reports. In programmes broadcast throughout the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against women last Sunday, Iranian state TV used the word family instead. In recent weeks, Iran's Centre for the Participation of Women changed its name to the Centre for Family Matters. At the time of former reformist president, Mohammad Khatami, the centre was set up within the president's office. Khatami was president of Iran from 1997 to 2005. (AKI News)

It's not enough to make women cover their faces and bodies. Not enough to forbid them to drive cars or study or work. No, more must be done. Let's do away with the very word, Woman. And, people living in the Western world need not be smug or self-righteous at this bit of news from Iran. Western governments have harangued near and far Eastern governments over every possible issue, but stay mute on the subhuman treatment of women. This action is on an equal footing with nuclear armament. Yes, it is. And carries every bit as much potential for irreparable violence within it.

It is a sad, sad piece of news.
Let us light candles for our sisters in Iran.

Image, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa

'Scatalogue Time: How to Stop the Flood

I used to look forward to finding a catalogue or two in my mailbox in days of yore. It afforded me a few relaxed minutes of window-shopping or idea-cropping at the end of the day. Ah, those were the days.

Now, I receive 60 to 80 catalogues in the mail every week. Many merchants send duplicate catalogues within a two- to three-week timespan, while others have my name on duplicate lists that, for some reason, they do not purge. If your mailbox is overflowing with unwanted catalogues, there is HOPE. Go to Catalog Choice, where you can opt out of receiving any of the catalogues on their list. This is a free service, and kudos go to the participating merchants.

It takes very little time, and the site is easy to use. Save a tree! Or a small forest! Help businesses save on postage! Keep your mailbox clear for old-fashioned love letters, post cards from San Luis Potosí, and fan mail from your grandmother! We have a choice.

Where are we headed, America?

A friend from across the pond just sent me a link to a video on YouTube by Chaser Non-Stop News Network in Australia, a program akin to the Daily Show in the US. The "reporter" is Julian Morrow. Even given the probability (a great one at that) that there were people who answered Morrow intelligently and were edited from the program, there is still too much stupidity on display here for any of us to ignore. In the world we live in today, being stupid is not funny, it's dangerous. And, as an American, I find the sheer embarrassment of this willful ignorance painful. I have been unable to make the link work in my blog, but if you go to youtube and put cnnn in the search box, go to number 5, Are Americans Stupid?

The answers people give to Morrow's questions are unthinkable. "What is the religion of Israel?" "Catholicism." "What is a country whose name starts with U?" "Yugoslavia. Utah." "What country should the US invade next?" "Sri Lanka." Then, when Morrow presents himself as Prime Minister John Howard, no one skips a beat. They have no idea that Morrow is not Howard (the two men look nothing alike), and their naiveté and lack of knowledge rank with that of kindergarteners in their responses to "Prime Minister Howard."

Globalization is not just about buying cheap stuff from China at your local Walmart. (Many of us no longer shop at Walmart in support of a different and more balanced form of a globalized economy, but I digress.) It is also about understanding what happens on and in our globe, and how, why and when it happens. Yes, it takes work to be informed. But it is much less work than welcoming home your children with amputated limbs or severe emotional disturbance from having been sent to battle in a country whose name too many people in our country cannot pronounce or whose location they cannot even find on a map. And being informed is less work (and less trauma) than taking your child to the ER when he suffers lead poisoning from the bargain toys you bought him from that land "over there somewhere."

Knowledge is still power. And the country that "starts with a U" is losing both--fast. We can, should, must reverse this downward spiral. The world depends on it, but more important: our families depend on it. Perhaps the Middle East does not interest you, perhaps you don't care where the cheap merchandise comes from or how it is made, perhaps you don't want to spend time learning where the world's countries are, or knowing what happened in Africa this week. But surely you do care what happens to your children, your brothers and sisters, your parents, your friends, your mate. Guess what? The two are now related, inextricably intertwined for the foreseeable future, if not forever. We can't change that fact, but we can change how we face it, and we can start now.

A great place to start is: World Press which gives you headlines and articles from press sources around the world, in English. The site also features country maps and profiles and information on countries where armed conflicts are taking place. It's not all homework, though. You can even have a little fun there, checking out the international cartoons. Yes, my fellow Americans, we can laugh and be smart at the same time.

Text and image, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa

Finding Special

I recently traveled 'cross the pond to visit friends in Europe. While planning the trip, I had a good time just thinking about the "special" places I would find "far away," and my journey in no way disappointed me in this regard. But neither do you have to travel far to find Special. And the closer you are to home territory, the more that which is Special may take you by surprise.

I was passing through Brownwood, Texas, last summer. As I strolled through its downtown district, I could see a rain storm coming, and having yet to stop for lunch, I ducked into an inviting storefront with a happy-colored, giant ice cream cone sculpture at its door.

I had just entered the land of the Turtle, the kingdom of slow food, which, until a few years ago we did not think of as slow food, but as good food. Brownwood's Turtle Restaurant offers food that could qualify for five stars at a price that we two-star income earners can afford. The meals are both natural and elegant, beautifully seasoned, and presented with style and harmony. And then . . . . a room full of gelatto, made right there from scratch, awaits you for dessert, or at any time of the day, for that matter, even when the restaurant is not serving meals created by Chef Eric Aldis, former chef de cuisine of the Ritz Carlton in New Orleans.

For those of us of a certain age who grew up in small Texas towns, The Turtle is doubly special. It is both restaurant and refuge. If you didn't grow up in a small, isolated Texas town, I can't completely explain the reward that this little jewel of a restaurant offers, and if you did grow up in a small Texas town about 30 years ago, then I don't need to explain to you the miracle one feels at finding a cosmopolitan, but not high-falutin', casual yet elegant, quietly superlative place like this in the middle of --well, Brownwood. Wherever you grew up, wherever your travels take you, if you get to The Turtle, you'll be glad.

(It also makes a great place to stop by on a rainy afternoon, order an espresso and a homemade cookie and invite your muses to join you as you write another page of that novel . . . I have it on very good authority that the muses also like gelatto, especially di lampone. )







www.theturtlerestaurant.com

Blogging Off

For a while. Hope you will drop back by in November for my posts on a tesoro of a restaurant in a small Texas town, children and their world in art, and overviews of some very good lit mags. Hasta later, entonces, y que tengan un octubre otoñal y delicioso y el tiempo para disfrutarlo.
Saludos, YDLR

Recommended Reading

Should I ever go to "the desert island," these books
will be in my bag.

Turning the Mind into an Ally
by Sakyong Mipham Rimpoche

No Death, No Fear
by Thich Nhat Hanh


Image by Thich Nhat Hanh, Available at allposters.com

AP: Anonymous Photographer

Who dunnit?
The image was magnetic to my eye. If Whistler were here, he would wish that he had painted this photograph of Princes Harry and William after the Service of Thanksgiving for Princess Diana. The black background, with the princes' black jackets seeming to just barely emerge from it, was certainly worthy of Whistler or Sargent. It set off their facial coloring in a spectacular way. The picture was also special because it was candid; these were two faces in thought, not in picture. It was an AP photo--meaning Associated Press. I tried finding the image on the AP site . . . It's probably there somewhere for purchase, but I wasn't up to working my way through the maze. I don't understand why AP or perhaps my hometown newspaper would not include a photo credit. Whoever took this photo produced a work of art. So, whoever you are, wherever you are, Anonymous Photographer: well-done, very well-done indeed.

Azúca' pa' ti

A friend of mine gave me this CD some time ago, and I listened to it for the first time this afternoon. What a treat! I highly recommend it. It's also interesting to see what other people say about it in the reviews on Amazon.com.

Try Care.

When I first heard about the I35W bridge collapse, my heart was in my throat. But my mind was in familiar territory, asking (yet again) why this disaster? Within hours, reports revealed that problems with the bridge had been noted as far back as 1990. There are many places where you can read the particulars about the engineering and "structural deficiency" details. These particulars are more than news, however. They are also indicators that the US is well on its way to fitting the profile of a "third-world" country.

When I think of "third-world" countries (a term I don't like, but will use here because of its widespread usage), I think of: substandard infrastructure; uneven health care; wide gaps in living conditions between rich and poor. I also think of crippled governments whose legislators do not act in the interests of the citizens they represent; heads of state who make unilateral and arbitrary decisions and/or ignore their country's constitution; citizens being spied on and monitored without their knowledge.

That's us, folks. That's America. Every phrase fits. Take them one by one, and it doesn't seem so bad. Put them all together, and it's overwhelming. The overwhelming event of the bridge collapse made me start putting the particulars together in one frame.

Why this laxness and incompetence about a major traffic artery and bridge--a laxness we now know to be nationwide? We have divine providence to thank that the collapse did not occur in the middle of a Minnesota winter and that rush-hour traffic was lighter than usual. And divine providence to trust that it doesn't happen again next week, next month, or next year in another part of the country. The I35W bridge was just one of many "structurally deficient" and ailing bridges in the US. There is not enough money or manpower to fix them all any time soon.

How did we get here from there? What will it take to change this downhill course?

Last week, Minnesotans showed us the way, as diverse groups merged into one unit, as people united for the purpose of being there for each other and thinking of the other before they thought of themselves. Perhaps it sounds old-fashioned, simplistic, even naive, but the Minnesotans affected by last week's disaster-- victims, survivors, and responders--helped me see that even as bridges crumble, systems fail, political parties self-inflate and self-destruct, and our government elevates secrecy and unaccountability to historic highs, we are still connected as human beings and fellow citizens, still willing to do good--just that, no less, no more--to do good. And to care.

To care. There is no problem that caring and taking care cannot address, nothing they cannot make better. All it would have taken to save the lives lost to the Mighty Mississippi last week was for someone to care, starting in 1990 all the way to 2007, when construction workers could feel the bridge "wobbling" beneath them shortly before the collapse. To take care, to inform, to close the bridge right then, or to have worked on it years before. Think about it. Apply care, in your heart and mind, to any problem or issue you can think of--local, global, personal, or corporate. Care is the way out of the 1-2-3 worlds and into the one world that is better for all. Just care.

***

You can check on needs of survivors and ways to contribute at the Twin Cities Red Cross. There will be ongoing need for donations for a long time yet.

Text and Image copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa.
Image: Sao Paolo, Brazil: Church of Nossa Senhora da Providencia

Heart's Bridge to Minnesota

The collapse of the I35W bridge in Minnesota leaves us speechless. Four seconds is all it took. CNN has played the traffic surveillance video of the collapse a lot in the past few days. They have also shown us informative and dramatic footage. Yet, there is something about still photography that takes us inside this event in a subtle, powerful--and poignant--way that moving pictures cannot. Perhaps only still photography can convey a sense of the "eerie and total silence" that victims and eyewitnesses experienced immediately after the bridge's plunge into the Mississippi, breaking, twisting, and falling in on itself and its passengers.

The photo above was taken by Tim Davis of Consolidated Photos in Minnesota. You can see the rest of his still photos here at http://conphoto.net

I recommend that a) you look at them, because they are good photos and truly put you on the scene, and that b) you spend some time with them, contemplative time. Slow down. Think about how fragile each day is and what we can do to make each fragile day rich with good living--helping others, substituting compassion for judgement, and being aware, truly aware of Life--which is given to and not made by us. The truth is that we never know when a bridge, either literal or metaphorical, will fall out from under any one of us.

My next post will cover some of the issues to which this destructive event powerfully calls our attention, but for now, the Silence is speaking, and we need to listen. These images provide an excellent way to do just that.


Text, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa
Photos, Copyright Tim Davis, All rights reserved. Posted here with permission.

Time Warner Gone Postal

Here is an article from Meg Weaver's excellent Wooden Horse Magazine's Newsletter. Yet another indication that day by day, Americans cease to live in a country, but rather inside one big business.
Scary.
**************************
Dear readers,

Publisher Time Warner has a secret weapon - the US post office.

Wanting to squeeze even more profits from their magazines, Time Warner called in the bean counters and must have told them to look at the postal rates. How could Time Warner avoid the 2007 11.7% postal increase that had been announced in 2006? The bean counters went to work.

In February 2007, the Postal Regulatory Commission rejected the proposal from the US Postal Service and accepted a fee increase strategy based on a complex proposal submitted by...you guessed it, Time Warner.

The USPS then allowed just eight business days for formal responses to the 758-page proposal. On March 19, the fee increase was a fact - to go into effect July 15.

The publishers groaned and tried desperately to figure out how much more they had to pay. Time Warner sold off 18 of their magazines to some hapless Swedes in the Bonnier Group.

One by one, the publishers discovered that the smaller your circulation, the more you had to pay. The postal increase was not the same for everybody. In fact, if you were the largest publisher in the country and had magazines with circulations that allowed you to sort and bundle by carrier routes and then palletize everything and shrink wrap it, you paid less. Smaller magazines that couldn't reach the quantities required to bundle and palletize would pay much more.

Never mind that the post office is a government body whose rate structure for the last two hundred years had been to "facilitate and encourage the dissemination of information and ensure a thriving marketplace of ideas." All ideas. Not only those with mega-ciculation.

So, if you are a magazine like NATIONAL REVIEW, THE AMERICAN PROSPECT, SOJOURNERS, THE AMERICAN CONSERVATIVE, WORLD MAGAZINE, THE CHRISTIAN CENTURY, COLUMBIA JOURNALISM REVIEW, or REASON, you were hit with an increase many times the Time Warner's. In fact, The Nation figured they had to come up with an additional $500,000 this year.

But free speech seems still to be treasured in the United States. The Nation has so far received $271,000 in donations towards its goal of paying that half mill!

Write your representative to have the fee hike repealed.
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Beware the Wolves in Government Clothing

This just in from the National Resources Defense Council. Please read, please participate, and for more information on the wonderful work that NRDC does, click here.

The Bush Administration has just issued a disastrous "License to Kill" plan that could trigger the extermination of half the gray wolves in Wyoming and Idaho, starting as early as October -- unless we stop it now.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is accepting public comments on this cruel proposal only until August 6. Please register your opposition right now by clicking here.

Our best hope for blocking this "open fire" order is to generate a tidal wave of public outrage and protest...so please sign your Citizen Comment immediately.

The Bush Administration wants to treat wolves like vermin, instead of an endangered species that has staged a welcome and dramatic comeback from the brink of extinction. In preparation for these mass killings, the government has already purchased planes and helicopters capable of gunning down entire packs of wolves in minutes.

Their goal: To immediately kill up to 700 wolves in Greater Yellowstone and central Idaho.

Our goal: To stop this horrific proposal in its tracks -- by generating 200,000 pro-wolf Citizen Comments by the August 6 deadline.

For more information, read the NRDC press release.

A Country or a Country Club?

Sometimes I wonder if by living in the USA, I am living in a country or a country club. Scooter scoots free--not that he was the real criminal in the case, anyway. And government duties go--not only to high or low bidders--but to buddies. Billions of dollars are changing hands. It's not the money that's maddening, but the fact that while money is being made, lives are being lost, and our country is turning into a business. Ever spent a year in a corporation's cubicle? Did it feel like peace, liberty, and justice for all? Hardly.

Joan Baez wrote, "Action is an antidote to despair." I add, "You need information to know how and when to act." (something our newly elected dems are not doing just real well--acting, that is.) Jim Hightower is doing a fabulous job of getting information out that is ordinarily very hard for the public to access. You can subscribe to his detailed newsletter The Hightower Lowdown for just $10, or you can check out the website here. I can't recommend it highly enough.

Now, still on the subject of government as country club, I'd like to encourage all to look at our upcoming presidential candidates not as potential class favorites or club presidents, but as real, intelligent, and courageous leaders. I don't need "Rudy Gear." I don't care where John Edwards gets his hair cut (although I do care that he would be careless enough to be so incongruent with his message about addressing poverty). And who cares what Hillary's theme song should be or if Barak should stop smoking? Mitt Romney's moral and political inconsistencies are of far greater concern than his being Mormon.

I've heard more sense and gumption from Michael Bloomberg than all of the above. Jury's out on whether or not he would run. I mention him, however, as an example of thinking outside that proverbial box. He is now an Independent. It's time to vote for a leader, not a party. Consider looking for and voting for a leader outside your usual political neighborhood.

WE NEED A LEADER, folks. Don't let these candidates get by with convincing us why we should like them. It's far more important to trust our leaders than to like them. Think about that before you spend your hard-earned money on some Tooty-Rooty Rudy Gear. Think about it the next time you see the news of who else has died in Iraq today, or when you watch the man in Michael Moore's movie who had to choose which fingertip to save because he had no medical insurance.

Get informed. Choose your leader(s). Disarm despair.

Photo: New Orleans Shop Window, French Quarter, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa.

Start Hugging

The sirens should have sounded. The wind was straight-line and coming in at 94 miles an hour at 3 a.m. No rain. No thunder. Just that sound. That sound that people on the plains know means a tornado is possible, if not imminent. That supernatural train-like roaring moan.

But the sirens did not sound. The first mechanical sound after the storm was that of chainsaws, so many of them going at one time, that all one had to do was walk outside and be overtaken by the noise.

As silent as the sirens, the trees took the hard edge of the destructive wind. Some lost limbs. Some were split in half, top to bottom. Others were toppled, roots and all. One tree had a 9-foot spread of roots, now lifted up to the air.

Trees. Those great beings that cannot run. That give us shade, shelter, fruits, color, memories and places to climb and swing. They're hurting now. They can't go inside from storms.

Time to go hug these trees, the survivors, the wounded, the lost.
Afraid someone will call you a tree hugger?
Oh, it's worth it.
How do I know?
Oo la la, I'll never tell.

Try it and you'll see.
It's worth it.

Text copyright 2007, Ysabel de la Rosa

Image: Broken Perfection, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa

The Mightiest Army: In Need

Last night on BBC World News, a reporter called the US Army "the mightiest in the world."

Just before the newscast, I had gone through the mail for the day. I had received yet another request to donate money to US military, this time to soldiers in Iraq. At least three times a week, my mail contains a solicitation to donate funds to US military personnel and/or related veterans groups. Some letters request donations to paralyzed or disabled veterans. One makes requests especially for seriously burned veterans. The requests to donate money specifically to support the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan are increasing. I am 1000 percent behind supporting our military, in peace or in war. I have no problem making donations or encouraging others to do so.

But one question haunts me. Why is it that the "mightiest army in the world" needs charity? How is it possible for our government to so mistreat the very men and women on whom we depend to be the first and last line of defense of our sovereignty, safety, and freedom? To support them so little and treat them so poorly that our armed forces need charitable fundraising campaigns in order to receive vital health care or necessary body armor?

The saying goes: Charity begins at home.
Which is where our soldiers need to be.
Home.


Image: Athena helping Herakles to hold up the sky.
From: www.historyforkids.org

Local Color(s)

The Texas wildflowers are wonderful this year, thanks to the
extra rain. To see flower photos, visit Texas Highways.
For a different kind of local color, I present the following photos
from travels along Texas highways and byways.


Ant Street Auction House / Brenham
Flamenquera a la venta


Shop Window / Hico
A donkey for sale--and fresh fudge.
Mmm . . . .??


Main Street / Hico
Where "Cowboy Rumba" and other classics are piped
through loud speakers all day.


Display Window / Hico
"Cat's meow" home accessory, just $317.


Sugar Moon Antiques / Hico
These two made-in-Mexico musketeers came home with me.



Artist's Studio / Brenham
Gets the prize for local color on this trip.



Images, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa, all rights reserved.

A Mother's Honor

I happened to drive through Crawford, Texas, this weekend. As I drove through (unbeknownst to me), Cindy Sheehan was shutting down Camp Casey to announce later that she was ready to retire from her public battle for peace.

In our local paper today, columnist Judith McGinnis devoted her column to Sheehan. The title was "Not for Nothing." I hope Sheehan will see this article somehow, and take the title to heart. Indeed, her efforts were "not for nothing." What guts she displayed in the wake of her grief. She was, on occassion, accused of being shrill. Ever heard a roadside bomb? Ever heard a man full of shrapnel cry out when hit? It was not inappropriate for Sheehan to fight shrill with shrill. Bury your child. Live through that, and tell me you have no right to be shrill.

As she closed down Camp Casey, Sheehan told the press: "(My son) Casey died for a country which cares more about who will be the next American Idol than how many people will be killed in the next few months while Democrats and Republicans play politics with human lives." She's right. And she has received death threats for being willing to speak that painful truth on a broad scale.

I admire Sheehan for what she has done, for what she has survived. I would, without question, die for my son. And, sin or not, I would kill for him, too. That says more about my parental instinct than my level of courage. But what Sheehan has done these last two years takes more courage than dying or killing. She steeled herself against the greatest grief known to humankind and dedicated her life to working for a peace that would save the lives of other mothers' sons and daughters. If I could see Cindy in person, I would say this to her, from one mother of a son to another: More important than what you have done for our country, our corrupt politicians, our efforts for peace, you have honored your beautiful, good and brave son, greatly, deeply, fully. No one can take that away from you. Eternity will not let either your honor or his be erased. Go home and rest now, warrioress. Rest well.


Text and Image, copyright 2007 Ysabel de la Rosa, all rights reserved.

Overdue Review

For some months, I have been intending to post a brief review of poet Bart Edelman's book, The Alphabet of Love, published by Red Hen Press. The book was published in 1999. It was new to me, however, in 2006. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Edelman's poetry moves lightly, lines flowing quickly into each other, touching depths without getting mired in same. There is humor here, too, seen most clearly perhaps in the opening poem for which the collection is named:

"A adores B,
But B is enamored of C,
C suffers terribly
From a protracted divorce with D
And won't get involved with anyone now;
However, C thinks E is fun
To help break the weekend monotony.
E seems mixed up
And fell for F
Last month at a dance ranch . . . . "

And on it goes all the way to Z and a classic "If only . . . . " that brings the poem full circle.

Edelman's technique is admirable. His lines are honed. He handles rhyme and rhythm with subtlety and skill. No prose masquerading as poetry here. And yet, some of these poems take us into stories, and some of those stories twist deftly at their conclusions, as in "Modern Man:"

"Standing on the ledge,
A floor above Wall Street,
Modern Man proposes
Love on demand--
The stock exchange of bartered souls
Immune to price control;
Here, the platinum hearts
Stagger to outbid each other . . . .

" . . . Aboard his sleek new yacht,
Modern Man imposes
Respect upon command;
His stern, stiff salute
Welcomes a somber crew
Who walk zombie-like
To their appointed stations . . .

"In the dimly lit studio
Across from Freedom hall,
Modern Man composes
His sonata of sand--
The grand plan--
Where he is saved in the wick of time
By the holy redeemer . . .
Free now to justify his life,
He takes a holiday,
But soon returns
To orchestrate his own demise."

Too long to quote here, the poem "Mark Twain's Cigar" is marvelous, a piece I think the American master would appreciate were he here to read it today. "The Crow's Nest" is one of my favorite poems in the collection, highly evocative and multinivel in its meaning.

"When a lonely crow
Measures the black stars
Against a dark sky,
Nothing can safely pass
Between night and sleep."

"The Great Dark" is a poem that also treats "the alphabet of love," although in a completely different vein from the opening poem. It ends with:

"And, still, there's no guarantee
That what we see
Illuminates the great dark.
Could the firefly speak,
She would reveal
The story of her life,
Where day becomes night
With just the sudden flick
Of an internal switch.
If only it were that simple
For the rest of us,
Caught somewhere in midair,
Flying through the gloom--
Our fluorescent search begun,
Love's labor never done."

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For more information on Bart Edelman, click here and/ or here.
Excerpts from poems, copyright 1999, Bart Edelman. All rights reserved.