tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65348779183403412024-02-26T09:33:55.828-08:00Poetry LaurelsDeath is Nothing, Life is Everything... And Poetry is...? Maja Trochimczyk, CaliforniaMaja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.comBlogger175125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-14067908457095696882024-02-14T09:30:00.000-08:002024-02-15T15:37:40.135-08:00205th Birthday Party of John Ruskin at the Telescope Studio, 11 February 2024<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_TiCVF-GJbKh5k1ttPg13qThEyOAX_dHNmI-YU-fys4tXcrK0UQVpnGvQZ03aREhftoiZPNl8cIV5408BjorOGMY-po1VPQXdq-bbiOy36efiFbtsGoYmZoXFoTzWmqL0gXjJohoXofKjAo045f4XpfzNxWyfbgnUOEYIS60P0X4Dv5-wPjALjf5SH2g/s4032/IMG_4978.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_TiCVF-GJbKh5k1ttPg13qThEyOAX_dHNmI-YU-fys4tXcrK0UQVpnGvQZ03aREhftoiZPNl8cIV5408BjorOGMY-po1VPQXdq-bbiOy36efiFbtsGoYmZoXFoTzWmqL0gXjJohoXofKjAo045f4XpfzNxWyfbgnUOEYIS60P0X4Dv5-wPjALjf5SH2g/w400-h300/IMG_4978.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Big Tujunga Wash in February 2024. Photo by Maja Trochimczyk</div><p>Sometimes it is good to change the topic, from work and urgent personal interests to something else. Last Sunday (February 11) this "something else" was the celebration of 205th Birthday of artist, writer and visionary John Ruskin, organized by the John Ruskin Art Club, the oldest cultural organization in Los Angeles, established in 1888. Chaired by poet, writer, journalist and composer, the Ruskin Club's Executive Director, Gabriel Meyer, the event had a rich and varied program.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://ruskinartclub.org/history">https://ruskinartclub.org/history</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://ruskinartclub.org/board-of-directors">https://ruskinartclub.org/board-of-directors</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhM-EOIfkHabagEfd2efpAa7QGrgJLMa9XNOm3zLLmQa50rc_NF9LlfUpukDLdlhVTYV7LPFNOYNAp1OlCg_YiMuWPON1z7jSn9BPTmOpZPa4JggwzMMF8J9ktgtl1R3DGFD0coOEO4Ha4GMNRjO8JC0Z3fvp9LiBiAf7zvj7G0oIq0My5fPdcs6iGtN8/s4032/IMG_5360.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhM-EOIfkHabagEfd2efpAa7QGrgJLMa9XNOm3zLLmQa50rc_NF9LlfUpukDLdlhVTYV7LPFNOYNAp1OlCg_YiMuWPON1z7jSn9BPTmOpZPa4JggwzMMF8J9ktgtl1R3DGFD0coOEO4Ha4GMNRjO8JC0Z3fvp9LiBiAf7zvj7G0oIq0My5fPdcs6iGtN8/w400-h300/IMG_5360.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>First, in tribute to the great Ruskin, wonderful poet and the Club's Board member, Elena Karina Byrne read three poems she selected for this occasion, including one by Denise Levertov celebrating the life of John Ruskin and one of her own, about the art of seeing the world, carefully observing every detail on the wings of beetles. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtxNV2mp6-_BxNZkC1mNAvqpk65Z2iKKdI3MQQgTcqYygRaQCeh4plwi_pONMbPwNibFC65odVOkZZ91RuulCpAFmSL7qL2_6mckRRwwCtSNFOdu-WX1UZHdUoVFeybKJNi2YbY2ezq2eP4eo1bTDGV_cPYMKfgkaBtLKTa2NSPbzN3hBx_sfRgWHR5A/s4032/IMG_5364.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtxNV2mp6-_BxNZkC1mNAvqpk65Z2iKKdI3MQQgTcqYygRaQCeh4plwi_pONMbPwNibFC65odVOkZZ91RuulCpAFmSL7qL2_6mckRRwwCtSNFOdu-WX1UZHdUoVFeybKJNi2YbY2ezq2eP4eo1bTDGV_cPYMKfgkaBtLKTa2NSPbzN3hBx_sfRgWHR5A/w400-h300/IMG_5364.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>The Executive Director Gabriel Meyer introduced the program that started from a fragment of a 2019 film by Robert Hewison using a quote from Ruskin as its title: "All Great Art Is Praise." This documentary presented fragments of a bi-centennial event held at the Royal Academy of Art in London, with actor Michael Palin reading excerpts from Ruskin's unfinished autobiography, <i>Praeterita,</i> illustrated with slides of Ruskin's paintings of Venice. Two notable quotes resonated with the audience for the rest of the afternoon: "All great art is praise" and "There is no wealth, but life..." </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWld-sgcdCe5afyKb7WFC7NF6UwkQCIDp6H3rD00gZfC8xX-2BhbjBS4zOu9RsLlZlEizQjmWG3Df31mjs8He-lrqdj9BZ7UgVF9s1NKyHA_7NIOSHczVoYRVicu3sBf1V0ywabwy7OFuH5mKj28qJFYnNgwDL3l1gVLF99QHMZU_BUJjQhD93IcSkx_g/s4032/IMG_5367.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWld-sgcdCe5afyKb7WFC7NF6UwkQCIDp6H3rD00gZfC8xX-2BhbjBS4zOu9RsLlZlEizQjmWG3Df31mjs8He-lrqdj9BZ7UgVF9s1NKyHA_7NIOSHczVoYRVicu3sBf1V0ywabwy7OFuH5mKj28qJFYnNgwDL3l1gVLF99QHMZU_BUJjQhD93IcSkx_g/w400-h300/IMG_5367.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>After hearing another quote, I decided to write a poem in tribute to Ruskin, inspired by this quote: "To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion all in one." </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f_QqJOnMJ_fIHZef-BGNLy-JM35ZrYMz8ZpN9SZGH6hOQsu4ntiy6hwzogooAh4Z1NqULQx7DGIDkhkPAEoVO73ntSFoT5R3RDxoCI9qo79LO086_XzO3bpnX1gzp6H9eLHPh7lcklVdD-Ztj7iW2HpK1ihxuf9Aca7NdnVe-miqAKhOfwG0jhXUAJ0/s484/ruskin.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2f_QqJOnMJ_fIHZef-BGNLy-JM35ZrYMz8ZpN9SZGH6hOQsu4ntiy6hwzogooAh4Z1NqULQx7DGIDkhkPAEoVO73ntSFoT5R3RDxoCI9qo79LO086_XzO3bpnX1gzp6H9eLHPh7lcklVdD-Ztj7iW2HpK1ihxuf9Aca7NdnVe-miqAKhOfwG0jhXUAJ0/w330-h400/ruskin.png" width="330" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">John Ruskin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://ruskinartclub.org/johnruskin">https://ruskinartclub.org/johnruskin</a></div><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><b><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;">Everything is Perfect</span></b></p></blockquote><p> <span style="color: #674ea7;">Ivan Antic says. We are here to explore </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">everything. To praise, create, enjoy. Share the joy.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">See and describe the sublime.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">As John Ruskin taught us. As he saw.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">The ancient castle at sunrise. The snow-capped</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">mountain tops. The intricate patterns </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">of butterfly wings. The aspen tree.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Clouds over Venice rooftops above misty canals.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Sea foam and storms of Turner's paintings.</span></p></blockquote><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"> The red-headed angels of pre-Raphaelites. </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Fire and infinity of Tintoretto.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">He looked, and saw, and recorded</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">the ever shifting, evolving, waxing </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">and waning beauty of the world.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">This world. Our world. Given to us</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">to see - build - create - discover. </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">The bliss of color. The bliss of shape.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">The bliss of art. The bliss of life.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Thank you, John Ruskin.</span></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vZg5YTXNZmFC22vrArA1N3UhcSq_iLI6kLGl2kCLvU5symeVjoWTqcnQAXkL5iGD5sBJmvsZTgfT8hw0jJuk1l3aTF_hoO2P4c2tKi6uSgfpbKSTQhaOvisVMj4mF8_7qg1tWk9dsmdTiPBADC8M3dKAX-0zgzWQXGVASJ_fsgvQEXTwmTsl0RUo64E/s4032/IMG_5366.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vZg5YTXNZmFC22vrArA1N3UhcSq_iLI6kLGl2kCLvU5symeVjoWTqcnQAXkL5iGD5sBJmvsZTgfT8hw0jJuk1l3aTF_hoO2P4c2tKi6uSgfpbKSTQhaOvisVMj4mF8_7qg1tWk9dsmdTiPBADC8M3dKAX-0zgzWQXGVASJ_fsgvQEXTwmTsl0RUo64E/w400-h300/IMG_5366.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gabriel Meyer introduces the film</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKig_jCHmJCWG-YBRUI3N4Ugbb0Jlplocqrfz5sYq_LEedEjr08KuBiTtPsPsKEeXXgDxjHFuO_EzbOrqFPmLMa_A6aWactqv9hJnWGZrx7tmHnT8OurazHAreyXM0K7VP21pQt0s2O2Fucegln5hSXDn5eo_LzDYLBDRGzBQBZHs56fCGPHzefy-m2fE/s4032/IMG_5370.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKig_jCHmJCWG-YBRUI3N4Ugbb0Jlplocqrfz5sYq_LEedEjr08KuBiTtPsPsKEeXXgDxjHFuO_EzbOrqFPmLMa_A6aWactqv9hJnWGZrx7tmHnT8OurazHAreyXM0K7VP21pQt0s2O2Fucegln5hSXDn5eo_LzDYLBDRGzBQBZHs56fCGPHzefy-m2fE/w400-h300/IMG_5370.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Gabriel Meyer introduces the musicians.</div><p>The highlights of the birthday bash included the world-premiere of <i>Two Berceuses </i>for cello and piano by Gabriel Meyer and <i>Six Folk Songs</i> by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958), featuring cellist Allan Hon and pianist Alex Zhu, professor at Occidental College and Pierce College. What a joy to hear the honey-rich tones of the cello filling the space, with the subdued accompaniment of the Ruskin Club piano, that found in the Telescope Studio its permanent home.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOw-zmN3VEMCzxQ9y_FOVjv0OoSZegziwy3zTcOZ5s70FPpXpsPVr1VkaUDe5Ot_A9A1UDu7cRShW4n2Haw1JzHHo-KpZKy9SjGgk8LlgYnMBp3wMHVzGkQaAPEIKeAM0960GN0cduSBiMC2aKUa1RnSr9DRdOkKScE2JMZ2nspkBYOX_8OWmcu5iV3U/s4032/IMG_5375.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOw-zmN3VEMCzxQ9y_FOVjv0OoSZegziwy3zTcOZ5s70FPpXpsPVr1VkaUDe5Ot_A9A1UDu7cRShW4n2Haw1JzHHo-KpZKy9SjGgk8LlgYnMBp3wMHVzGkQaAPEIKeAM0960GN0cduSBiMC2aKUa1RnSr9DRdOkKScE2JMZ2nspkBYOX_8OWmcu5iV3U/w400-h300/IMG_5375.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZTHu_fWXSMk7lX5TebTXCYZsp_s8FNplDZl9uArxRBQqyZVL8ncP3Yr80Nq3T5d_MKpDfEGEK-1wD0SNnTNLw82t3XlnQ7I5pB674GbTd95qWf7AHAMO1cRqXe38k7JtI5MLBUgGtrvVKaJY9dZI96WetxGNEjcWwQTubdjXU0gH9deS9YQ2-ANZ-3g/s4032/IMG_5387.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZTHu_fWXSMk7lX5TebTXCYZsp_s8FNplDZl9uArxRBQqyZVL8ncP3Yr80Nq3T5d_MKpDfEGEK-1wD0SNnTNLw82t3XlnQ7I5pB674GbTd95qWf7AHAMO1cRqXe38k7JtI5MLBUgGtrvVKaJY9dZI96WetxGNEjcWwQTubdjXU0gH9deS9YQ2-ANZ-3g/w400-h300/IMG_5387.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cellist Alan Hon and Pianist Alex Zhu</div><p>I liked the sweet Berceuses a lot, but will not be a music critic this time describing their charms. The settings of English folk songs by Williams were brief and highlighted the "found" melodies instead of the skill of the composer. They made me think of the role of late-romantic beautiful music in English music history and its neglect in Poland. We too have had many composers who wrote beautiful settings of folk songs, starting from Ignacy Jan Paderewski, yet their work has not been properly appreciated by their compatriots, deluded by the myth of progressivism - and reserving praise for works of "avant-garde" instead of works of beauty. The musicians Mr. Hon and Zhu gave justice to the music in a lively and uplifting performance, and perfect musical collaboration, giving primacy to the composers, not to interpreters. There is plenty of skill in that!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzDPuwsx4ePP9aIFwfwL6eV2oM-g-Rj8CrSyy-YNPjU7C3a8tZZFqQsmoS6JZGk5yOh5OaaJL2mQkMWRISaQ0faOvAoh2i_KtWIc1EpN4FdVtebk6CwnKVoeLF3LbVrjo8bYCb1WOLs902HtZSTAz33gLWBGnkNybc0Mdk-O3aR0CG01O0UclLX_ZJWE/s4032/IMG_5382.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzDPuwsx4ePP9aIFwfwL6eV2oM-g-Rj8CrSyy-YNPjU7C3a8tZZFqQsmoS6JZGk5yOh5OaaJL2mQkMWRISaQ0faOvAoh2i_KtWIc1EpN4FdVtebk6CwnKVoeLF3LbVrjo8bYCb1WOLs902HtZSTAz33gLWBGnkNybc0Mdk-O3aR0CG01O0UclLX_ZJWE/w400-h300/IMG_5382.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stuart Denenberg with annual Sherry Toast to John Ruskin</div><p>The annual toast to Ruskin, with a glass of sherry was given by a gallery-owner, and a walking encyclopedia of art, Ruskin Art Club Board member, Stuart Denenberg, co-owner of Denenberg Fine Arts with his wife, Beverly. Indeed, we should praise art that is "praise of this world" - and celebrates beauty, instead of chaos, disruption, violence, hate. . . I must say I was a bit distracted during his toast (sorry!) as I met Eric Jessen, former Chief of Orange County parks, etc. department, who was instrumental in greatly expanding the OC parks system, purchasing, for instance, for the county the Helena Modjeska Historic House and Gardens, now one of only two National Historic Landmarks located in O.C. He previously spoke about the Modjeska House during my lecture on the great actress at Laguna Art Museum in 2019. A long-time Board member of the Ruskin Art Club, he serves as its Secretary. What a welcome reunion! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkGt1SzC8HaTTRJ-Zu3tgq_Kus9BaN2-yVFJz3fjxpXLhyphenhyphenSs_W9vFrHIC9cqY7Jt7FO_HzdCGHNI0YME0iLtRrgyh2AOxH_sI_lGirP4GdAvveJc2P9jBF5mgbKbRidun-UEPU6i_MtXIrk-39iydB9WxdCaBV7MwVJcjDd-ktxiVnWFPd45gwi_Z_9c/s4032/IMG_5402.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkGt1SzC8HaTTRJ-Zu3tgq_Kus9BaN2-yVFJz3fjxpXLhyphenhyphenSs_W9vFrHIC9cqY7Jt7FO_HzdCGHNI0YME0iLtRrgyh2AOxH_sI_lGirP4GdAvveJc2P9jBF5mgbKbRidun-UEPU6i_MtXIrk-39iydB9WxdCaBV7MwVJcjDd-ktxiVnWFPd45gwi_Z_9c/w300-h400/IMG_5402.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stuart Denenberg in conversation with Gabriel Meyer</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRC0jOI1ECSvdXx0zjhHGEoE3QzDmEjM8MMZszP-5e1LvjW77xXSrQ3PYRHzHQW78luPBzJFLmS6hfIhluTXANseU4gGuE7AFGzohIY656PkccS3hQmFeJzuilw42wy_aQWRjc3n-RtE4ltl1KI9T_P6VZQ5YUjsBOnw3MH3fhqsmhgyf_744WM-Ib60/s4032/IMG_5398.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRC0jOI1ECSvdXx0zjhHGEoE3QzDmEjM8MMZszP-5e1LvjW77xXSrQ3PYRHzHQW78luPBzJFLmS6hfIhluTXANseU4gGuE7AFGzohIY656PkccS3hQmFeJzuilw42wy_aQWRjc3n-RtE4ltl1KI9T_P6VZQ5YUjsBOnw3MH3fhqsmhgyf_744WM-Ib60/w400-h300/IMG_5398.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Poets at the Birthday Bash of Ruskiin - Elena Secota, Maja Trochimczyk, Susan Rogers, Ambika Talwar, Gabriel Meyer, Elena Karine Byrne and guest</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>During the champagne and sushi reception after the speeches and concert, I was happy to reconnect with Polish American community - Elizabeth Kanski, former President of Polish American Film Society and the Modjeska Club, and Mirek Towski, a great photographer, how was invited by Stuart Denenberg. I invited two poets, Ambika Talwar and Susan Rogers, and we were happy to visit other Los Angeles poets from our circle: Elena Karina Byrne, Elena Secota, and Gabriel Meyer - all of whom I had invited as featured poets to the readings of Village Poets at the Bolton Hall Museum in Tujunga when I still served as the readings Program Chair. </p><p>Happy birthday, John Ruskin! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUxcZWN4KY-9eUIuyJEaXb-QBK0OsBj0k_4ypqMK-1HmWhixsvIW2PyReBvK52RGk9d_xZ-kKPQ9w0vTKUOlgu_HypomNuB8AiS3hcdp78SEY5efYnS5QVs7rL4IEu3R1XT09VJcJDx3JRXhL1kIGzZag4GZ5Ff07OFRiF-GU_xDsO-QO5ajobAN0XUQ/s4032/IMG_5378.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUxcZWN4KY-9eUIuyJEaXb-QBK0OsBj0k_4ypqMK-1HmWhixsvIW2PyReBvK52RGk9d_xZ-kKPQ9w0vTKUOlgu_HypomNuB8AiS3hcdp78SEY5efYnS5QVs7rL4IEu3R1XT09VJcJDx3JRXhL1kIGzZag4GZ5Ff07OFRiF-GU_xDsO-QO5ajobAN0XUQ/w400-h300/IMG_5378.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgve3TCZdwbPITBBGXHwEhznB7b60TqkPdneD9nnLqkO7-oi2lChhP7hREUoKuxU-TknQlthyucsFf9DsnznIHsC5M0Ul7kV3WHMn05W7yeZwv-Ydctuf9HihzqnAIfdc8yO_6p-VnoxNZSXw5MJxDY02KgevvSpnsGc_htKg6ksljHzmgwIbny4XZCKhc/s4032/IMG_5386.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgve3TCZdwbPITBBGXHwEhznB7b60TqkPdneD9nnLqkO7-oi2lChhP7hREUoKuxU-TknQlthyucsFf9DsnznIHsC5M0Ul7kV3WHMn05W7yeZwv-Ydctuf9HihzqnAIfdc8yO_6p-VnoxNZSXw5MJxDY02KgevvSpnsGc_htKg6ksljHzmgwIbny4XZCKhc/w400-h300/IMG_5386.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5YMQ7INsqHKJO1osWIZZmYOAu9Qas77Ko-FZH-C3md8wrgUZAzNZ9_88PR-vREvQ32gO1_U1_neDAmL_P582kniiNJmfZnwJmA83jDU0APFnYzSLX9AhKCyoEPjydnt56rfAlZ-csOef8BnAV81iEKs_UBbSuakYo5I0BDjn8v07m_kZqatxdGk3ijSk/s4032/IMG_5404.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5YMQ7INsqHKJO1osWIZZmYOAu9Qas77Ko-FZH-C3md8wrgUZAzNZ9_88PR-vREvQ32gO1_U1_neDAmL_P582kniiNJmfZnwJmA83jDU0APFnYzSLX9AhKCyoEPjydnt56rfAlZ-csOef8BnAV81iEKs_UBbSuakYo5I0BDjn8v07m_kZqatxdGk3ijSk/w400-h300/IMG_5404.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Polish American group of Ruskin friends -Maja Trochimczyk, Mirek Towski, Elzbieta Kanski</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKN2Sk-4WHP51yQSJLFJEQSNvW-VL9BgZf_sGKbP9E6DwTi_bkMs70dDV1JPb3bevn5ZdW4yHnT4O7PZzukaCYSULy2Y6bEHe5sdoVcE-Ngu2Et7anVXgJ6N7ApMJpG1zoeo7D1Ag1VgDyq7Kx-BBrPNlVD82ZVaVX0zls6FiIz0-kjn1e92gHM4W7iM/s4032/IMG_5401.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNKN2Sk-4WHP51yQSJLFJEQSNvW-VL9BgZf_sGKbP9E6DwTi_bkMs70dDV1JPb3bevn5ZdW4yHnT4O7PZzukaCYSULy2Y6bEHe5sdoVcE-Ngu2Et7anVXgJ6N7ApMJpG1zoeo7D1Ag1VgDyq7Kx-BBrPNlVD82ZVaVX0zls6FiIz0-kjn1e92gHM4W7iM/w400-h300/IMG_5401.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Poets Maja Trochimczyk and Susan Rogers in Carnival mood...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WpNb5pxXIPRw4LElH84KiwrVlNBABcBmESveb3FMt4EVEOpSyBc60IzUZxFeKyd9UHe94NNBVJ_EhCFTOc20XXvhDHaTyEzlgdEoC5SbNq5eujrkuYU6fcsnR3FLbwCZuhWtxJ82k9jgcKm-L3Iwx6g2InFnScJ0cbgloOfex0wMTId5xjNAdtmqws0/s4032/IMG_5384.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4WpNb5pxXIPRw4LElH84KiwrVlNBABcBmESveb3FMt4EVEOpSyBc60IzUZxFeKyd9UHe94NNBVJ_EhCFTOc20XXvhDHaTyEzlgdEoC5SbNq5eujrkuYU6fcsnR3FLbwCZuhWtxJ82k9jgcKm-L3Iwx6g2InFnScJ0cbgloOfex0wMTId5xjNAdtmqws0/w400-h300/IMG_5384.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two Polish American Presidents of Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maja Trochimczyk and Elzbieta Kanski</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_ZSwLGJL5rC53WiCl-FVKyBdlKrQDmdzolps2ZieIccJl2XvUrHQhNF0otP8wwzCQeXNFKnj5Ey4fbldCrSObHL3-LkjpmMRFWzOZeF69sEjRtQB7Az7W0STCtTnO_y8MGIQIpscyytQvIRJXJ-64jFoskztaGtVGz6hkKLhswtHqPoRC4NpqRAmvns/s4032/IMG_4982.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_ZSwLGJL5rC53WiCl-FVKyBdlKrQDmdzolps2ZieIccJl2XvUrHQhNF0otP8wwzCQeXNFKnj5Ey4fbldCrSObHL3-LkjpmMRFWzOZeF69sEjRtQB7Az7W0STCtTnO_y8MGIQIpscyytQvIRJXJ-64jFoskztaGtVGz6hkKLhswtHqPoRC4NpqRAmvns/w400-h300/IMG_4982.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rock spiral at Sunset, Big Tujunga Wash, by Maja Trochimczyk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since today, as I am writing this report, it is Valentine's Day AND Ash Wednesday simultaneously celebrating Love and Death, I'll end this post with my poem from 2018 anthology "Grateful Conversations" - that was recorded at the Gathering of California Poets Laureate at the McGroarty Arts Center in Tujunga in October 2018, and also posted on my blog:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><a href="https://engagingthesensesfoundation.com/poet/maja-trochimczyk/">https://engagingthesensesfoundation.com/poet/maja-trochimczyk/</a></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="goog_1417763482"><br /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/10/morning-noon-evening-in-california.html">https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/10/morning-noon-evening-in-california.html</a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-size: large;">In Morning Light</span></b><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">We live on a planet where it rains diamonds —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">hard rain, sparkling crystal droplets — in the clouds,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in the air, on the ground under our feet.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Here, the Valentine’s Day falls on Ash Wednesday.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Red strawberries, wine-hot passion and Ashes to ashes,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">dust to dust — lessons of impermanence of the body,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">constantly reconfigured in a vortex of quarks and atoms</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">until the pattern dissolves like snow at the end of winter.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Delicate snowdrops peek from under the melting cover</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">of phantasmagorical shapes and figures.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Here, the Annunciation Day of Mary’s greatest joy</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">falls on Palm Sunday — from rainbow wings of Fra Angelico’s</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Gabriel bowing before the shy, blushing maiden in royal blue</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">we look ahead to the green of palm fronds lining the streets</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">of Jerusalem. We welcome the destiny of the King.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">We see red blood on the stones of Golgotha,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">the Place of the Skull. Not even this is real.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">No wonder, then, that Easter, the greatest Mystery —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">of Death into Life, Spirit over Matter, the Divine</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in an emptied human shell — Eli, Eli, Lema Sabachthani —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Sanctus, Benedictus, Agnus Dei — it is done —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">yes, that Easter — is on April’s Fools Day this year.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">We fool ourselves when we see death as enemy.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">We spin our lives into thin filaments of a spider-web.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Illusion woven into illusion. Deception after deception.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">They rise and fall with the rhythm of seductive charm.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">The smiling demon is the most persistent. Incorrigible,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">it pulls us down, down, down into the mud,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">from whence we did not come. Nothingness</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">ties us up with bonds of non-belonging.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">My revelation is this — we live on the planet</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">where it rains diamonds. We walk on untold treasures</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">that we do not notice — we forget and forget and forget</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">where we came from, where we are, where we are going.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">We spin our future out of spider silk and shadows.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Our lives fill with the sand of dreams, changing</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">like shards of glass, broken bits of colored plastic</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in a kaleidoscope — transfigured into the most</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">astounding waltz of the rosettes, reflected</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in hexagonal mirrors of transcendence —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">My revelation is this — we are the children</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">of Sunlight — blessed by Radiance — wearing</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">Love’s golden halos — we shine and blossom —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in Light’s cosmic garden of stars — lilies — violets —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">peonies — daffodils —and roses — always roses —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">in this brilliant garden — on a diamond planet —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">of what is — in the Heart of the Great, Great Silence —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">— there’s no here — nor there —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">— no before — nor after —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">— no inside — nor outside —</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">——— All is Always Now———</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">——— All is Always One———</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">——— Where We Are ———</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">NOTE: References to the Gospels, Giordano Bruno, and St. Germain.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;">(c) 2018 by Maja Trochimczyk, first published in "Grateful Conversations" anthology edited by Maja Trochimczyk and Kathi Stafford (Moonrise Press, 2018).</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;" /><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #585858; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQJClecl8XDpZ0Rv1eecRB7F6VD9C1gihpmz3A74bZeX3PJbfvtRHKeD3yZ9guu03XRknSsTWchuTvm5vSTVYAz6VoTGBirD6RZoHEvfRdXrnx1nZopPjz0XzElaQ9cmRs0ql8d5_Hes/s1600/IMG_4650.JPG" style="color: #3a75b0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQJClecl8XDpZ0Rv1eecRB7F6VD9C1gihpmz3A74bZeX3PJbfvtRHKeD3yZ9guu03XRknSsTWchuTvm5vSTVYAz6VoTGBirD6RZoHEvfRdXrnx1nZopPjz0XzElaQ9cmRs0ql8d5_Hes/s400/IMG_4650.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-26342932245357622012024-01-06T18:23:00.000-08:002024-02-19T10:00:58.037-08:00Dreams and Imagination in the Year of Wood Dragon<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWIuM_3H9-1tdJk0aVtmuc3cWXUJsEfCRGu5416jlRNWfdD1SNuYQg7SAp3D2XuoctuTV2Aagbzkr2BKrA3iiKrSN0Xx0u5NL5G0OFR2ouEXMmfaHgmEYLl_G3IruVIJjXSvtprjkmKGY3EB3uh__-zKOYG008iOwh1xCqSLC41OcsWwoU4Ey4M6Qe0s/s2100/dragons2-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2100" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWIuM_3H9-1tdJk0aVtmuc3cWXUJsEfCRGu5416jlRNWfdD1SNuYQg7SAp3D2XuoctuTV2Aagbzkr2BKrA3iiKrSN0Xx0u5NL5G0OFR2ouEXMmfaHgmEYLl_G3IruVIJjXSvtprjkmKGY3EB3uh__-zKOYG008iOwh1xCqSLC41OcsWwoU4Ey4M6Qe0s/w400-h286/dragons2-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">with Sun in its crown</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">to outshine fear and hatred - </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">the Dragon rises</span></div></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The year 2024 is the year of Wood Dragon in Chinese Zodiac. Wood is associated with strength, warmth, generosity, flexibility, while dragon, the most powerful symbolic animal of China, meaning strength, health, prosperity, wisdom, power and good luck. In ancient China dragons were associated with emperors, where phoenixes were assigned to empresses. Interesting combination... For the annual Haiku Party of the Southern California Haiku Study Group we make our haiku gifts, so I wrote some about the Dragon Year and here they are;</span></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9H7aHxnoSFLv5mVCGVy0p8tgBUKWCIxu1tNZKcJ7F8a_EK7xCA6KhvmtCIXXJ3o8MPaNkAe3cWz4bPDClIgAlfgR84qmbcq6GggpUZl7drKae3q_5LdpN74JApFNjMSZ2T5ybcYOocwNdIhh2gBYZMINfxHym8NCekIbOsBtO86MTw0aVXjRGgbmw6E/s2100/dragons2-2%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2100" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9H7aHxnoSFLv5mVCGVy0p8tgBUKWCIxu1tNZKcJ7F8a_EK7xCA6KhvmtCIXXJ3o8MPaNkAe3cWz4bPDClIgAlfgR84qmbcq6GggpUZl7drKae3q_5LdpN74JApFNjMSZ2T5ybcYOocwNdIhh2gBYZMINfxHym8NCekIbOsBtO86MTw0aVXjRGgbmw6E/w400-h286/dragons2-2%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">bend, willow-like</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">stand firm, with diamond strength -</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Wood Dragon Lessons</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9H7aHxnoSFLv5mVCGVy0p8tgBUKWCIxu1tNZKcJ7F8a_EK7xCA6KhvmtCIXXJ3o8MPaNkAe3cWz4bPDClIgAlfgR84qmbcq6GggpUZl7drKae3q_5LdpN74JApFNjMSZ2T5ybcYOocwNdIhh2gBYZMINfxHym8NCekIbOsBtO86MTw0aVXjRGgbmw6E/s2100/dragons2-2%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2100" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qF5ZjD7l8E4sfPA6bHTIybAPoo5BAQwILAm4EwCEUhGzsSUnpDvobfn3UYf_vXUK5zdT99G0DVzzr_YMXj2MTub6qSQHFqGKTYoULTiCnxDJb8GYLEpCmG5UFdHdGAqZin7jaoJTFhNmVm4kYwxtfm8n-builjPtq1mAMTSMMxPKJV9MPLiVpexdGyU/w400-h286/dragons2-1%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">courage, prosperity,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">kindness, generosity -</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Wood Dragon Blessings</span></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The images are from various free sites, noted on each card, but they are processed with some graphic filters, to add interesting textures to them and to make the sun in the last one more impressive. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So we will start the Wood Dragon Year in February with confidence that it is and will be a very good year. The time of prosperity and strength. How do I know? Because what we intend to, if we put our heart into, is what will be. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">If we do not, our dreams will warn us of being on the wrong path, spiritually. When I have repeated dreams of losing my ticket, purse, suitcase, missing my train, bus, plane, or losing my keys or being unable to quickly stuff all the clothes in the suitcase while I have to leave I know I must leave - I know when I wake up so stressed out from all this rush and anxiety, that I'm on the wrong track in my "awake" life - and the "dream" life is telling me to change the direction, pattern, plans, actions, so I stop running after planes, or realizing I lost the car keys, or seeing the train leave the station...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In contrast, being on the right track spiritually - doing the right things, what I'm supposed to do is rewarded with a "graduation-type" dream. Someone once told me "your trouble is that you know what you must do but you do not listen to your angels and do not do it" - so I'm extremely grateful for these "graduation" dreams when I finally succeed and complete the task and feel gladness and relief that everything is done and is done right so I can go on and start a new chapter. Alas, too often I'm pointlessly rushing and forgetting or losing everything in my dreams. But still, the rare moments of gladness are so rewarding. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've had a huge problem with my mother (my father was silent and practically absent from parenting, except for telling me to be always honest and hard-working for these traits are rewarded in life and if not, they are their own reward). My mom loved me and hurt me the most of all people, abandoned me many times when I needed her the most. She praised me as a princess when I did not need it, and took me apart or left me embittered when I needed her the most. So, finally after years of prayer and meditation I was able to finally let go of my resentment and pain. The childhood trauma disappeared. This was done in stages over several years, and I'll skip the process here. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwptFSQXl3CiylxxQxydpMeEaJopKZqAb33Kt1sG7_dQk8xs2ZpzKOs_srVvrU1FEUxbAuayLXG7P54NcqFQgZvp5-J_2RBKGAN9AH10saMJXMYnkp5imbDxJLLuI9Dd-UtsYYSldITD6kIncgq5sQwv0xwUUVH8z06eUlkjGWCsorQ6k0_8YrRNcFusg/s4032/IMG_3758.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwptFSQXl3CiylxxQxydpMeEaJopKZqAb33Kt1sG7_dQk8xs2ZpzKOs_srVvrU1FEUxbAuayLXG7P54NcqFQgZvp5-J_2RBKGAN9AH10saMJXMYnkp5imbDxJLLuI9Dd-UtsYYSldITD6kIncgq5sQwv0xwUUVH8z06eUlkjGWCsorQ6k0_8YrRNcFusg/w400-h300/IMG_3758.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ocean of Air, Cloud Islands - by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This monumental achievement on my spiritual path was rewarded with a long, complex and very rewarding dream.</span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">I jumped off the sailing boat into the water, with a rope to swim and pull it. There was no wind. The boat was full of people, and I was the only one in the water, I pulled the boat through dark, crystal-clear, smooth, and very deep water, without any waves, completely still and smooth, unfathomably deep, and very pleasant to swim in. I had to navigate between small islands of rushes and trees, and pull the sailboat to safety. The journey was long, I kept swimming and swimming, it became dark, with starry skies reflected in the water, and the islands changing into dark shadows I had to avoid and steer clear of. I swam through the whole night and finally saw the shore, there was a sandy beach and a pier, </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">I swam close to the pier so people in the boat could disembark and walked from the water onto the golden, smooth sandy beach. There were people waiting for me there - dressed in long capes and robes of pure white, silky, shimmering in the slight breeze. They had tall wide collars and huge stars on their chests and foreheads, shining really bright white light, like a picture of a diamond with rays stretching straight into all directions. They dressed me in this white comfortable warm silky robe-cape and put a star on my chest and a star on my forehead. That's when I realized my Mom was on this boat and was now standing right next to me, and she also got her white silky robe-cape and the two bright stars, one for the chest and one for the forehead. </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>After this welcome ceremony we were led to the left side to rest on two white chairs that were placed on the sand facing the ocean. What was before a huge expanse of smooth navy-blue, dark translucent glass-like water with dangerous islands, now became a peaceful ocean with the sunlight on the soap-bubble horizon, pink to gold to blue, to periwinkle. We sat on these chairs, they were like the Adirondack wooden chairs in shape but very soft and comfortable to sit on. We did not say a word, there was no need to talk, no need for words. Everything was perfect, serene, tranquil, beautiful, complete bliss. Then i realized that my nine-tailed fox (silver white, with blue eyes, very lively) was asleep on the left side of my chair. My Mom was on the right. I covered the fox with another white cape, wrapped her tightly so she could sleep with the nose on her paws, and the tips of the tails moving at the edge of the blanket. </i> </span></p></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn6bBhROUCp1jEAK8bKMVSUhNpxUPaY3Pt85VukY1SaisNYXB7b8kC_BXAYbZx20-d2x_HF5O6YGYWgBOtHaQrntWaCV7gGf61Mjfb5pyHmnaef2Do10vcTYrHtzwTKp4x8L6GJJq_Jt6-hnlVCYyBev7Wfbw8PPUUYAadsIx5gJwR8aAPGaMCmlIJhk/s4032/IMG_3752.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn6bBhROUCp1jEAK8bKMVSUhNpxUPaY3Pt85VukY1SaisNYXB7b8kC_BXAYbZx20-d2x_HF5O6YGYWgBOtHaQrntWaCV7gGf61Mjfb5pyHmnaef2Do10vcTYrHtzwTKp4x8L6GJJq_Jt6-hnlVCYyBev7Wfbw8PPUUYAadsIx5gJwR8aAPGaMCmlIJhk/w400-h300/IMG_3752.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sea of Clouds - photo from a plane window by Maja Trochimczyk</span></i></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Then, I woke up... It is pretty obvious what the dream meant. I took care of a boat-full of my ancestors, clearing ancient traumas, and my own pain, letting go of suffering, anger, resentment and instead taking care of everyone. Swimming in the dark, clear of the unknown is the immersion in Divine Wisdom, that only I could do and did not need any help from anyone. Getting to the shore and receiving the rewards - toe white coat of pure conscience, regained innocence, the bright shining stars for the mind and heart - does not need any explanation. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The fox is a seductive, dangerous demon in ancient mythologies of the East. Somehow, I know that I was such a nine-tailed fox long ago and it accompanied me even in this life, still pulling me her way, into mischief and seduction. It was so satisfying to see that it went to sleep and rested on the endless, peaceful ocean of pinkish-golden waves under blue-violet sky . This meant that I was able to conquer that side of my "Shadow." Jung wrote about the importance of integrating the Shadow, the unconscious hidden darkness we all have within, into awareness. Only then, will it go to sleep as my Foksik did on the the shore of the ocean of tranquility. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I kept reflecting on this dream for a long time. I wrote it down right as I woke up, that's why I could recall it here. If I do not write down the dreams as they end and I am disoriented for I do not know where I am and where I should be. And why am I on this bed and in this life, and what's wrong? So if I write the dream down then, I can learn from it, and follow the right path, "listen to my angels" or to the "divine whisper" and do the right things for a change... </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpemKjTrYfXcSY6yepvrc0IsJC1iqugPPYAXoyb4qF6R-rXQJnq4qqOaZ6CVn6emoSthXr5zYxH4V04DAtuXDr1qYTwlW6J3JvLk_AAVe-g7SPKq_nbBjbqg2wne1QwScMk8K-ovXU4GZwjZPMj0rm8U1ZCZdP4elFaXQu-jlKWlAqno_bdmz3OnCtZzY/s4032/IMG_8079.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpemKjTrYfXcSY6yepvrc0IsJC1iqugPPYAXoyb4qF6R-rXQJnq4qqOaZ6CVn6emoSthXr5zYxH4V04DAtuXDr1qYTwlW6J3JvLk_AAVe-g7SPKq_nbBjbqg2wne1QwScMk8K-ovXU4GZwjZPMj0rm8U1ZCZdP4elFaXQu-jlKWlAqno_bdmz3OnCtZzY/w400-h300/IMG_8079.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Winter Trees, Sapphire Skies - by Maja Trochimczyk</span></i></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Two days ago I had a short, but detailed dream on the amount of work it takes to learn lessons in this School of the Earth. </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">I planted an acorn to grow an oak tree before me. It grew very fast and when it was up to my shoulders, I broke some branches off to plant in the ground to have more trees. I did not see any landscape, there were no other people, there was nothing seen around except each individual tree in the ground. After planting the branches, which were all the same size about two feet tall and then looked at what happened to my branches. </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">The first one was charred in fire, the ground was charred too. The second one was broken in half by the wind. The third one was all muddy with rotten leaves and dead of the rot - it was flooded and died of overabundance of water. The fourth one was a stick in parched dried, cracked ground with no water at all. It dried out. </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Finally, the fifth one was growing through the seasons. I planted it with green oak leaves (there were large rounded oak leaves as on Polish white oak, not curly evergreen leaves of California). So first the leaves turned golden, reddish brown, and fell off. Then snow fell and covered the ground and the tree, then it sprouted more branches and was covered with leaves. So I woke up, happy that I was finally able to grow a healthy tree. It was not taller than my waist at that time, but it did start to grow. </span></i></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_iqvrNERlsJsiXWGX_ZhLvhHFZSQ5TKBiw9Ou7UtB0MyCKAG8dNvI81aXHKlbu6LBLxTaQh1OVq948mBhs0Yz_gx78mxz-Mq9OaRE4fUJWjHL4TdroiC84Y0NGpFNRLtUvfKEs_teS_2VmnqrAMv9nSsjxrfuy8sMOf16uHltFNhLZUDonpn2rBuGd4/s960/oaks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="960" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_iqvrNERlsJsiXWGX_ZhLvhHFZSQ5TKBiw9Ou7UtB0MyCKAG8dNvI81aXHKlbu6LBLxTaQh1OVq948mBhs0Yz_gx78mxz-Mq9OaRE4fUJWjHL4TdroiC84Y0NGpFNRLtUvfKEs_teS_2VmnqrAMv9nSsjxrfuy8sMOf16uHltFNhLZUDonpn2rBuGd4/w400-h299/oaks.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Gold Oak in Warsaw - By Maja Trochimczyk </span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So these four damaged and one good tree, parts of the original larger oak grown from the acorn, could mean successive incarnations and lives with parts of the Higher Self that was my original tree grown from an acorn. These went through different lives and tribulations and finally, the fifth one was good. I passed my exam of the ages. Alternatively, these could be experiences and tests in one life, five tests in all, of which I passed the last one after failing four times in a row. The failures were interesting too. These damages were by the various elements - fire, air, water, earth. These are "our" elements in the West, and in totality they mean living in the material world. Here, on Earth. The successful tree that started to grown ever more beautiful with the changes of days, nights and seasons (very fast, as in fast-forward rewinding of a tape) was the element of "spirit." Or maybe not. The beauty of dreams is that they are so open to interpretation. I wrote a poem with lessons and an acorn in it, several years ago. That poem was a retelling of a different, but related dream.</span></p><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNx59_pqCAAj7PAY0qclgGjl6URtNWM1Dh7MH4nL2sVTZ7CTZV15RTs9PeYW3PY4B17fp4-CLKZicnNU8yJIKTz3ZdY9KA75LKF5bKURoX9iuLULe0lY6bLAQYV523L6NMMFlw5KsKGWw/s1600/IMG_6654.JPG" style="color: #3a75b0; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNx59_pqCAAj7PAY0qclgGjl6URtNWM1Dh7MH4nL2sVTZ7CTZV15RTs9PeYW3PY4B17fp4-CLKZicnNU8yJIKTz3ZdY9KA75LKF5bKURoX9iuLULe0lY6bLAQYV523L6NMMFlw5KsKGWw/s400/IMG_6654.JPG" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Winter in Tujunga Wash - by Maja Trochimczyk </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><b><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">On Landscapes: A Guidebook</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">First you cross the Salt Plains of Rejection</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">into the Desert of Abandonment.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Mount Disappointment lies just beyond</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">The Valley of Regret. This is a huge country.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">You lived there for decades. You explored</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">every nook and cranny; path, boulder, crevice.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Ever since your mother disappeared</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">for five months and a year. Ever since</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">you learned to write at six to send her</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">your desperate pleas: “Mommy, come back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Mommy, I love you. Mommy, why don’t you</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">love me, any more?” You re-lived this story</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">time and time again. In every marriage, romance. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><span>N</span><span>ow you know too well how it feels.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Now you can open the enchanted book</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">and say the words of magic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">You pour out a River of Molten Light –</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">dazzling, white hot, yet cool to touch –</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">over the chaff of broken feelings, the dust</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">of memories you wish were not yours</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">to keep and gather for the Ancient One.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>The chaff burns.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>The shadows flee.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>You find a grain of gold</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>Under your feet.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>Smooth, shiny, polished,</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>It is yours to keep.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Is it a grain? Look closer, a golden acorn</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">rests in the palm of your hand. Plant it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">in Guilt Valleys. Plant it in the Deserts </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">of Despair. plant on Fear Mountain slopes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Plant on wind-swept Plains of Sorrow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">It grows so fast. Soon, a magnificent oak tree</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">spreads out its gold leaves and boughs.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">New life in your Landscape of Desolation. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Look through its branches. Be mindful, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">attentive. What do you see?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Here: the Fertile Fields of Bonding.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">There: the Rainbow Meadows of Connection.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Look carefully now. See the Pristine Peaks </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">of Fulfillment, the Sun Garden of of Gratitude? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">Filled with every kind of fragrant blossoms, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">the heady perfume of rose and jasmine, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">delicate scent of lavender and forget-me-nots, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;">liquid melodies of birdsong in the air.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>This is not a mirage. </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><span><i>T</i></span><i>his is your own world </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>to conjure up, delight in.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i>Here. This gold grain is for you. </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i style="color: #a64d79;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Will it become an acorn or </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><i>a pine cone in your hand? </i></span><br /><span style="color: #a64d79;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #a64d79;"><i>Come. Let's plant it </i></span><br /><span style="color: #a64d79;"><i>and watch it grow.</i></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NtaprqNwNtQR59wBm1FTSLbqOOrver9jQDRxJIoBLSfdFJOw6FSI6gVptc8GX9EVgNhaeSXLQSbC2KrvB1U_nIMLIs1ypmkNl7mtgOhztZwxymX33jat_q0zZWcpJe70xRpwW6MBE-hkcdzYpFcgrILBc-fyxAiQyGCrwUaDn_rKzkdf7YFJ41aSorU/s2200/an%20acorn.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="2200" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NtaprqNwNtQR59wBm1FTSLbqOOrver9jQDRxJIoBLSfdFJOw6FSI6gVptc8GX9EVgNhaeSXLQSbC2KrvB1U_nIMLIs1ypmkNl7mtgOhztZwxymX33jat_q0zZWcpJe70xRpwW6MBE-hkcdzYpFcgrILBc-fyxAiQyGCrwUaDn_rKzkdf7YFJ41aSorU/w400-h309/an%20acorn.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">an acorn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">into an oak tree - </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">nature's way</div><br /><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">In these two dreams, we had the oak tree, the sacred Oak of the Druids, worshiped across all of Europe by my ancient Slavic ancestors. According to the Druid calendar "my trees" are White Birch, and Apple Tree - I'm both delicate, sensitive, beautiful, and fruitful... It is interesting that in the following exercise I did once long ago, what I saw as "my" tree was neither an oak nor birch nor apple. It was a tangle of conifers, fir trees "swierk" or "jodla" in Polish - with a mass of interlocked, dead branches all mixed up, dead needles on the ground. It was hideous and dead thicket and I did not want to even look at it. Only when I turned my gaze up, along the trunk of "my" tree in this infernal thicket - was I able to see how tall and lovely and beautiful it was, spreading its branches in the clear blue sky. The other tops of trees were lower, mine was the most beautiful and imposing. But I had to look up to the sky to see its beauty.... Amazing. I will not tell you what the "tree" was supposed to mean in terms of Jungian archetypes of the subconscious - but it was quite a self-revelation at the time. I was told by instructor that only severely traumatized people, and many inmates, see dead or broken trees as "their trees" on this grand adventure through their subconscious. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #a64d79; font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nJe4Q4GefTkrZ48KN8-ROgIU26OykqTF8dwyS4H0xpseV6ykSDfp0e0AWSnQSS0dEaZ2M1pVCXAxwm3jxxWqOoOCmqTR0mne46ijJntOk9i7QqCeY6GD9_QKLOFfQmTi5GDwp6UEqAY-rD9wh24bKLN_cqOrHCk4N7Y1myj3WEndxwnQnmcpwiJxz7E/s4032/IMG_8529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nJe4Q4GefTkrZ48KN8-ROgIU26OykqTF8dwyS4H0xpseV6ykSDfp0e0AWSnQSS0dEaZ2M1pVCXAxwm3jxxWqOoOCmqTR0mne46ijJntOk9i7QqCeY6GD9_QKLOFfQmTi5GDwp6UEqAY-rD9wh24bKLN_cqOrHCk4N7Y1myj3WEndxwnQnmcpwiJxz7E/w400-h300/IMG_8529.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Loneliness - by Maja Trochimczyk </i></div><i><br /></i></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Here's The Forest Game, a visualization exercise I did during my training to serve as a volunteer for the LASD and teach inmates in Pitchess Detention Center my class that I called EVA - Ethics and Values in Art. The class was running for a whole year, weekly, until I got tired of repeating the same thing in each cycle of 12 classes... I lost the paper somewhere with the text I got at the end of the training, after the instructor walked us through the stages of this spiritual, enlightening journey.</span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <i>The Forest</i></span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Close your eyes. Sit comfortably. Imagine you are walking outdoors in a forest: one you have seen in a movie, read about in a book, visited or created in your own imagination. You are alone and as you proceed through the forest the first thing to catch your attention is a tree. Take a picture. Describe this tree. Are you doing anything to or with the tree? What type of a tree it is, where does it grow, how does it look like? Remember it, go on. </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">You continue to walk on the path, when you suddenly see a key. Take a picture, described your key and answer the question: What does the key look like? Do you do anything with this key? You look at the key, remember it and go on.</span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">You continue on your path. Suddenly you see a drinking vessel, any kind of vessel that you can drink from. Take a picture. Do you drink out of this vessel? Yes or No? Remember what you found and did. Go on. </span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Now you came across a body of water. Any kind, any shape, anywhere. It could be a river, pond, lake, ocean, waterfall, any type of water. Take a picture, what kind of water, is it moving, is it still? What do you do with the water? Remember, and go on.</span></i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>You continue to walk along the path, next you come across a bear. Take a picture. Do you do anything to or with the bear? What does the bear do? What do you do when you see the bear? Remember and go on. </i> </span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The path takes you next to the edge of the forest and there is a barrier. What kind of a barrier is it? What is it made of? Describe this barrier. Does the barrier prevent you from leaving the forste or are you able to get to the other side? Remember, rest. Your journey is done. Open your eyes. </i> </span></p></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSb7A-kEZIFkGeVaTRf4dJNwlVpXam6J_CXpBS6wk281orJOejO4yxe4wgElgA6xIBJGaKpXJGqlCa4q1gHlKlVw9RyY1cGj5_aho0CXHC0n5CqEGuzBGwfguR2sO3hO6hUzsLdu6WPgzvouihRDVznP5ICoXg03f__-pY-I3k6eGl7rRU84gQXqA2RsA/s4032/IMG_8261.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSb7A-kEZIFkGeVaTRf4dJNwlVpXam6J_CXpBS6wk281orJOejO4yxe4wgElgA6xIBJGaKpXJGqlCa4q1gHlKlVw9RyY1cGj5_aho0CXHC0n5CqEGuzBGwfguR2sO3hO6hUzsLdu6WPgzvouihRDVznP5ICoXg03f__-pY-I3k6eGl7rRU84gQXqA2RsA/w400-h300/IMG_8261.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Winter Palms in the Azure - by Maja Trochimczyk</span></i></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I found the key to the game, and the categories are as follows:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Tree = self esteem, self-worth, "how you feel abut yourself" , do you love, like, or hate yourself</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Key = school, job, career, knowledge, wisdom</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Drinking Vessel = love for family, siblings, and friends</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Body of Water = sexuality, intimacy</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bear = ear and problems in our lives and how we deal with them</span></li><li><span style="font-family: georgia;">Barrier = overcoming fear of death, finding purpose in life, past lives and future lives</span></li></ul></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /> </span><p></p><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-52729449736258009802023-11-26T08:19:00.000-08:002023-11-28T19:52:42.236-08:00To Be the Editor or Author, That is the Question! California Quarterly 49:4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEY4ghnjoHwbcH_pzMT_feKCWZIXL7OCjrnwj-Mv2DZB9AXFJgEKY2xxJWH8RK3E5DK5gL7KYfOs5mqN2WkTn3HvDTt4H5nrlH9nBDr9gkK_pGm22Vdluo7EEHvs4Xg9lYuf-mCy3bS534xo17r12WcJdXSCOA6WZvDIPfsGh2wm9KT0tauB9FWaGU6HV/s1275/CQ%20Vol%2049%20No%204%202023%20Cover%20(Front).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="825" height="509" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEY4ghnjoHwbcH_pzMT_feKCWZIXL7OCjrnwj-Mv2DZB9AXFJgEKY2xxJWH8RK3E5DK5gL7KYfOs5mqN2WkTn3HvDTt4H5nrlH9nBDr9gkK_pGm22Vdluo7EEHvs4Xg9lYuf-mCy3bS534xo17r12WcJdXSCOA6WZvDIPfsGh2wm9KT0tauB9FWaGU6HV/w329-h509/CQ%20Vol%2049%20No%204%202023%20Cover%20(Front).jpg" width="329" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>California Quarterly</i> Vol. 49, No. 4, Winter 2023. Cover Art: <i>Popocatepetl, Spirited Morning—Mexico</i> by Marsden Hartley (1877-1943). Oil on board, 25x29 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Sam Rose and Julie Walters, 1932</span></p></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I recently had the pleasure of editing the <i style="text-align: center;">California Quarterly, </i><span style="text-align: center;">Volume 49, Number 4, </span><span style="text-align: center;">Winter 2023, and selecting work by 42 poets. I found 58 poems that fit on the allotted pages of the journal and selected a classic American painting by Marsden Hartley for the cover. The full table of contents is posted on CaliforniaStatePoetrySociety.com blog:</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><a href="https://www.californiastatepoetrysociety.com/2023/11/contents-of-california-quarterly-vol-49.html">https://www.californiastatepoetrysociety.com/2023/11/contents-of-california-quarterly-vol-49.html</a></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In my list of publications the majority of books are edited, I like reading work by others and juxtaposing their insights into a rich tapestry of voices, a counterpoint of humanity as it were. I could write more by myself, but seldom have the motivation to do so. Among my music history books, only three were written entirely by me: my doctoral dissertation on space in music, a study of <i>Polish Folk Dance in California </i>(by Columbia University Press) and a history of the Modjeska Club that I preside upon and that recently celebrated its 50th anniversary. The rest are collected or co-authored volumes. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Among my poetry books also there are quite a few anthologies with contributions by up to 90+ poets. The most recent book, <i>Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom, </i>had 12 contributors. It is nice to put the insights by different people side by side to see the threads that join their work, and note the differences. When working with poems for anthologies I ask for more submissions than could be published and select what I like the best. The choice is simple: I like it or I do not like it. It is not a value judgment of the quality of the poem or the poet. It is my own taste that comes into play. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">If I like too many poems by one poet, I try to publish more than one, or select what fits what the emergent, overall theme of the issue. In the Winter 2023 issue of the California Quarterly the obvious theme of winter, snow, cold, farewells, was juxtaposed with the theme of rain, because there were so many "rain" poems among the submissions. So in my editor's note, reprinted below, I start from a quote from a "rain" poem by Leopold Staff that also imitates the regular pattern of raindrops in its rhythm.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In English, the most common Greek meters are iamb (short-long), trochee (long-short), dactyl (long-short-short) and anapest (short-short-long). In Polish with its preferred penultimate-syllable accent, the most common is amphibrach (short-long-short), with a name that means "short-on-both-sides." Leopold Staff uses this meter throughout his "rain" poem - and its repetitiveness serves as an illustration of the noise of the rain in a beautiful example of onomatopoeia, but also captures the endless dreariness and melancholy of loneliness. I'm often alone but very seldom lonely, so to me it is a very distant poem. I do not cite it as a whole... In the reprinted note below, I marked up the accents that align themselves into a regular pattern, repeating throughout.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinREQR2_GSvfIbGtK9RNpYUqYId0_e_Piz7CACspybHgK90UbwhHOi5WJ9owGK7qZUhUW4xd-0AmPMw88m_rVx0LhtAK9XncfAcYWl0PwPi9OOSf06RswLGfccgAPeJqNN5hSy02X6yHbTXzKAHMRK2_RHCiWfh2AbVL0WL6PEbq2MLTI5gI7myjnEcwsU/s3000/SAAM-2004.30.3_1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2593" data-original-width="3000" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinREQR2_GSvfIbGtK9RNpYUqYId0_e_Piz7CACspybHgK90UbwhHOi5WJ9owGK7qZUhUW4xd-0AmPMw88m_rVx0LhtAK9XncfAcYWl0PwPi9OOSf06RswLGfccgAPeJqNN5hSy02X6yHbTXzKAHMRK2_RHCiWfh2AbVL0WL6PEbq2MLTI5gI7myjnEcwsU/w400-h346/SAAM-2004.30.3_1.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i style="text-align: left;">Popocatepetl, Spirited Morning—Mexico</i><span style="text-align: left;"> by Marsden Hartley (1877-1943). Oil on board, 25x29 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Sam Rose and Julie Walters, 1932</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <b><span>EDITOR'S NOTE</span></b></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">“O <b>szy</b>by deszcz <b>dzwo</b>ni, </span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">deszcz <b>dzwo</b>ni je<b>sien</b>ny </span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> I <b>plusz</b>cze jed<b>na</b>ki, </span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">mia<b>ro</b>wy niez<b>mien</b>ny...” </span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> (Leopold Staff, <i>Deszcz Jesienny</i>)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In Leopold Staff’s poem I memorized at school, the onomatopoeia of “sh” and “ch” sounds (“sz” and “cz” in Polish) illustrates the sound of rain. I do not know how to translate it into English while keeping the sound, the rhythm, and the meaning intact. It is difficult to make transition from one language to the next… </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Why do we love or hate rain? There are several rain poems in this issue—by serendipity, perhaps. In northern countries, when drizzle falls too often from gray, overcast skies, rain is associated with melancholy, sorrow, and depression (O’Sullivan, Sapp, and Beynon). It became a stereotype. Just think of Disney movies, when the heroine starts to cry… </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In hot, desert countries, rain brings with it blessings of food, life, and love (Rosenheim, Skaldetvind, Stuart). What about snow, then? A blessing or a curse, depending on how much snow falls, for how long. Under the northern lights, it is a view to behold (Luisi). In Chinese movies snowflakes caught in lovers’ hands signify the abundance of affection. In northern countries, we have the “White Christmas” – though the event giving rise to this holiday took place in the desert, under a palm tree. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">What matters is the celebration of “now” – as in the poem by W.C. Gosnell, or The Night Heron by Jennifer M Phillips: “Open your fist. There is nothing to grasp.” Phillip Jason wisely advises the reader that all experiences are meant to “turn you into good.” Yes, we should cherish our days “without thorns” (Jane Stuart), when stars blink in Morse Code that “nothing is over” (Zanelli) and angels make “you sing / And sing and sing / Like a joyful child.” </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">During winter holidays, whether skiing, cooking, or wrapping gifts, we become like children, engrossed in the moment, watching a blue balloon, “rising into a sky” (Machan). If we cannot let go of sorrow, we may find solace in dreams (Hitt, Fraley), or prayer (Silberstein, DiOrio). Per Quantum Entanglement (Hammerschick), we are all One, anyway…</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In addition to poems that moved me, this issue presents the winners of the 36th Annual Poetry Contest. It is clear that the taste of the Contest Judge, Anna Maria Mickiewicz, is markedly different from mine. This diversity is a gift to be cherished.</span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Maja Trochimczyk<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>California Quarterly</span></i></p><p style="text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Los Angeles, California <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Volume 49, Number 4</span></i></p><p style="text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR0koyOHoVCywy7ImPz0fymzr5KNe1SrJ2GEbYYMcmO9u9nI0JFxUfQzoPW7vLVXnPwpI4aBS3xxh4vawqXsxqo53k_0AW7dOwkaBxjq0fNb39bEJ2owvkBvfrjrdkC5ZO96Ao35YmcPFKwAwo6TiwmwREvDfy_5RRrGC78x6lESLx8xTEiD0TSboNx1tn/s1200/id=SAAM-1988.53_1_screen.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="1200" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR0koyOHoVCywy7ImPz0fymzr5KNe1SrJ2GEbYYMcmO9u9nI0JFxUfQzoPW7vLVXnPwpI4aBS3xxh4vawqXsxqo53k_0AW7dOwkaBxjq0fNb39bEJ2owvkBvfrjrdkC5ZO96Ao35YmcPFKwAwo6TiwmwREvDfy_5RRrGC78x6lESLx8xTEiD0TSboNx1tn/w400-h356/id=SAAM-1988.53_1_screen.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Marsden Hartley, <i>Yliaster (Paracelsus), </i>1932, oil on paperboard mounted on particleboard, 25 1⁄4 x 28 1⁄2 in. (64.1 x 72.4 cm.), Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase made possible by the Smithsonian Institution Collections Acquisition Program and by George Frederick Watts and Mrs. James Lowndes, 1988.53</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">OUTSIDE, TONIGHT</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A cold evening rain—</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">wind-soaked shadows, purple pine</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">clumps of clinging moss</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">...invisible wind</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">warmed by sparkles of sunlight,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">cooled by winter's rain</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A soft fallen snow</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">drifting over evergreen</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">floating through the night</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> ~ Jane Stuart, Flatwoods, Kentucky</span></p></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;">Just like Leopold Staff, Jane Stuart looked out the window and saw a rainy landscape, slowly turning into one of snow, I like poems that capture the moment, the lyrical "now" in few words evoking an image that carries in it its own emotion. <br /></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">My own poem, written specifically for the California Quarterly, was inspired by a photograph I saw somewhere of a snow lotus, that looked quite bizarre and otherworldly to me, so I wondered if it would be worth my time to travel to the Himalayas to see these rare blossoms with my own eyes. In a stream of consciousness, I then thought about traveling to all the other countries, and being faithful just to one, or two, and of course back to the flowering meadows of my childhood and the inevitable skylark above. This is what the engineers of our fate want to deprive us of, the wide open spaces of fertile fields, the peaceful meadows, life in the countryside.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">A garden filled with birdsong is a great substitute for a childhood meadow, so I love my life in California. Why should I travel then? If all I love is right there? When the plandemic started and injections became mandatory I decided I'd rather not go anywhere ever again. It was my own choice so I did not travel for quite a while, I can drive around LA, go to the ocean, go to a concert, and I tend to leave my phone at home, with humorous conversations with my car, yes car, that puts messages on its screen telling me to not forget my phone, and frantically trying to connect to other phones it detects nearby... So funny. The car that talks. So weird. The car that keeps track of what I do and what I carry with me. Welcome to the dystopia of electronic leashes, smart 15-minute cities, and totalitarian control. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlzVStaK4QPCnA1EfmUxajLqqUNcybsvL067NM5FkRJ6PZwNYg-zZ8ugKqkngwn8f7oXER0Slh3IyB2kboIcn9mDx63RiR8Y8nUgGH_WruskooqMYm3f9my__prci3mfOxAe1fICncjGalbuwZ4c7lOalEzmqR_6VqCiyrExrtmQznHt4TJFV80Mq-_E/s4032/IMG_3012.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlzVStaK4QPCnA1EfmUxajLqqUNcybsvL067NM5FkRJ6PZwNYg-zZ8ugKqkngwn8f7oXER0Slh3IyB2kboIcn9mDx63RiR8Y8nUgGH_WruskooqMYm3f9my__prci3mfOxAe1fICncjGalbuwZ4c7lOalEzmqR_6VqCiyrExrtmQznHt4TJFV80Mq-_E/w400-h300/IMG_3012.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">San Gabriel Mountains, California. Photo by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></p>THE SNOW LOTUS</span></b><p></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />White, like starfish skeletons <br />deep in the ocean, snow lotus blooms <br />in a barren Himalayan valley. <br />Do I have to touch its smooth petals <br />to live my life to the full? Do I have to <br />learn 200 anthems of 200 nations, <br />celebrate their independence 200 times? <br />Countries I'd never visit, even in my dreams.<br /><br />It is good enough to learn just one valiant <br />anthem, a “call to arms” mazurka—or maybe <br />two—in my case of abandoned childhood <br />meadows, sprinkled with <i>stokrotki </i>daisies, <br /><i>maki, chabry i rumianki</i>—I was lured away <br />by exotic beauty, the bright bougainvillea, <br />with her myriad butterfly eyes. Too late I saw—<br />though different, it was still the same. <br /> <br />I sing a new anthem among strangers <br />at a concert—words flicker in darkness <br />on the screen of my phone—I am supposed<br />to take it everywhere with me—<i>my car said so, <br />and keeps looking for it, when I go out <br />without my electronic leash.</i> So, I'll leave <br />alone cold, limp petals of the snow lotus, <br />bewilderingly alien on its gravel plane. <br /><br />I'll dream of watching clouds float by—<br />scoops of meringue in the pristine blue, <br />pierced by skylark's song cascading <br />onto fields of May-green barley. <i>There is <br />no reason to go anywhere but inwards—</i><br />on the one journey into the silent glow <br />of s<i>tokrotki </i>meadows within my heart.<br /></span><p style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> ~ Maja Trochimczyk, Los Angeles, California</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">"Stokrotki" are small white daisies scattered over Polish lawn and meadows; white with gold center, they are lovely, and make the grass more interesting; white clover does the same, but stokrotki are prettier. "Maki, chabry, i rumanki" - poppies, cornflower, and chamomile daisies are three common field flowers from Polish countryside, often depicted together as an unofficial symbol of the Polish nation in red, blue and white. Are they prettier than the rare and exquisite snow lotus? Depends who's looking... </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpI8y8D_YiQq1STbqFF5KNYEknY64eqQt-FUlCgAtA_RcEEzBXeJ0hYGaUb4Lpq28fIWaVT7LKXBEVHv6jlR_LAKif73lG2EqQ0FJ7VH_2gFOzkTxNqdeXxVZTvX1WMOTvLzwQWn0xc9KOduOJOZYl2etmwMvbTu6tKY4nnYb9j4HFyS_TIm5vpTyPF-w/s4032/IMG_0840.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpI8y8D_YiQq1STbqFF5KNYEknY64eqQt-FUlCgAtA_RcEEzBXeJ0hYGaUb4Lpq28fIWaVT7LKXBEVHv6jlR_LAKif73lG2EqQ0FJ7VH_2gFOzkTxNqdeXxVZTvX1WMOTvLzwQWn0xc9KOduOJOZYl2etmwMvbTu6tKY4nnYb9j4HFyS_TIm5vpTyPF-w/w400-h300/IMG_0840.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rumianki in a Polish field, Trzebieszow, photo by Maja Trochimczyk, May 2023</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixemCIzG9fF2bf5YjbDWp6tTQTG-rOeEG9lGycPUI9a2EUKTWTdfpK3soEWr0Js91_8w8RM_cpG63JjsO6fPEtDY_jFu3dSN3zlBih2XB8vaNm7J1eHZOVP0zFUpaajtbYoGaVdzbKve7ZqicA2QCajjnLM2R7D64LTcLpJUJ4FOPdzmsrOBVErd6ofHk/s4032/IMG_0849.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixemCIzG9fF2bf5YjbDWp6tTQTG-rOeEG9lGycPUI9a2EUKTWTdfpK3soEWr0Js91_8w8RM_cpG63JjsO6fPEtDY_jFu3dSN3zlBih2XB8vaNm7J1eHZOVP0zFUpaajtbYoGaVdzbKve7ZqicA2QCajjnLM2R7D64LTcLpJUJ4FOPdzmsrOBVErd6ofHk/w400-h300/IMG_0849.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maki, or wild poppies in a field of rye. Trzebieszow, May 2023, Photo by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbiB5yllFYb1hJ6bpGDo-pGKebT-D7g0zVF5_rjbjh95TKes6Lz0MtCtdDYIeE_ZEM3sv7qVP1lOTTr4Ldhi5gJ4WdbBCSvYYS8wZfQ6hxs_0hzuYHil7GLQ4YY2Jfwa6f_rGFTWxN50cDxmxE_EEn5zro3ynfmcnLfYBLD-15eqlv9Hoz_8x7llgtNU/s4032/IMG_0875.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUbiB5yllFYb1hJ6bpGDo-pGKebT-D7g0zVF5_rjbjh95TKes6Lz0MtCtdDYIeE_ZEM3sv7qVP1lOTTr4Ldhi5gJ4WdbBCSvYYS8wZfQ6hxs_0hzuYHil7GLQ4YY2Jfwa6f_rGFTWxN50cDxmxE_EEn5zro3ynfmcnLfYBLD-15eqlv9Hoz_8x7llgtNU/w400-h300/IMG_0875.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Chabry, or cornflowers in a field of wheat, Trzebieszow, May 2023, Photo by Maja Trochimczyk</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Jayne Jaudon Ferrer wrote an exquisite simple poem to all her readers asking them to do what I used to do so often during my Polish childhood: go outside, for a walk, stroll, or hike. Enjoy being close to nature, to what's real and what's around you.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">PETITION</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Morning comes and,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">with it, headlines</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">blaring hate and carnage</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">and suffering and sadness</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">and depravity and duplicity</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">and defeat.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Turn off the TV.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Put down the paper.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Walk outside.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Give yourself up</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">to fresh air and sunlight,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">to butterflies and birdsong,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">to growing things and</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">grazing things and</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">hope.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Rise above,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">be lifted up,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">inhale</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">and hold on,</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">hold on.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Jayne Jaudon Ferrer</span></span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Greenville, South Carolina</span></span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-p5SyPudAqh1vwOi_RkeY-dPAvkgiaCuw6vV09X4zmoD9QsSLR5Sg1gaABtx3MsykU447dUf0Ww3p0azOeOo7iLHrVVRM09n_teQxmYGI3YdY29zOmtanBGsDqIW4oXr_Db8CvHbj2Q__BAETEXL_0IzWU5qQdC0oRblHMyFrcC12Xv10lRV5k4Phz4/s4032/IMG_0901.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-p5SyPudAqh1vwOi_RkeY-dPAvkgiaCuw6vV09X4zmoD9QsSLR5Sg1gaABtx3MsykU447dUf0Ww3p0azOeOo7iLHrVVRM09n_teQxmYGI3YdY29zOmtanBGsDqIW4oXr_Db8CvHbj2Q__BAETEXL_0IzWU5qQdC0oRblHMyFrcC12Xv10lRV5k4Phz4/w400-h300/IMG_0901.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clouds in a Polish countryside. Trzebieszow, May 2023. Photo by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><br />Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-40367765555895655882023-10-28T00:11:00.007-07:002023-11-27T09:00:54.849-08:00What's So Rewarding About Being Creative? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmdgoKMuAf95HWNJcN8i1l-cNKfMfElOi01kWmYas2bQrIz9Jq5Jpymte6htwC7Erhm5KpXuDjNv8jKC7p91x63TVb3_gD1MzpKDTwgF5inaiR-WGyHpaafWhjKlR0EByt2vwrzlhhpg_IWGaZ7ccPt7gZg7oI9I0fNW_k1Q9q45y4xteqxEk66tussE/s1024/c-MajaTrochimczyk__IMG3042_1695922226082-1024x768.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTmdgoKMuAf95HWNJcN8i1l-cNKfMfElOi01kWmYas2bQrIz9Jq5Jpymte6htwC7Erhm5KpXuDjNv8jKC7p91x63TVb3_gD1MzpKDTwgF5inaiR-WGyHpaafWhjKlR0EByt2vwrzlhhpg_IWGaZ7ccPt7gZg7oI9I0fNW_k1Q9q45y4xteqxEk66tussE/w400-h300/c-MajaTrochimczyk__IMG3042_1695922226082-1024x768.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Selfie with the snow, January 2023, Los Angeles National Forest</div><p>I recently wrote answers to a set of questions for a <i>Canvas Rebel</i> Interview, posted in October 2023. Here's the answer to one question. The rest can be found on their website:</p><p><a href="https://canvasrebel.com/meet-maja-trochimczyk/">https://canvasrebel.com/meet-maja-trochimczyk/</a></p><p><b><i>What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?</i></b></p><p><i>My small publishing house, Moonrise Press, is an outgrowth of my own creative activities. I did not think of myself as a poet or photographer, when still living in Poland, I was a listener, an audience member, a scholar… Then, after moving to America, after losing the ground under my feet, my native culture, language, land, family, friends – I had to re-create myself to survive, So the first benefit of being a poet was creating and asserting my own identity as “me” through my art. Finally, I was not writing about what others thought and did, I was writing about what I felt, what I thought. </i></p><p><i>While this “poetry as self-expression” is at the root of so many bad books, so many failed artistic efforts, it is also healing, it is also empowering. It gives you the strength to survive and go on. These aspects of creativity should never be discounted or ignored… Artistic criteria and “taste” change in time, evolve with shifting fashions – but being true to yourself in your words, expressing the deepest emotions and the most personal thoughts will never go out of fashion! </i></p><p><i>The joy of being creative is in the very act of creation. Someone said that when creating we become truly Divine, we are the Divine co-creators of this beautiful world. Therefore, we are responsible for the worlds we conjure up with our words and images. Are these worlds dystopian, hideous? Are these worlds full of light, joy, laughter, beauty?</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRpYS7e6ahdOPzY5H6qFbZAmWBQO2U6hOz_Wd_xduWROzovEtLJANcLgKH3QaMDpdyWD3EcEZ2K19ikxFXvYKs-8rozRRV4y94GqaJN_gDazDiMmwWG2gi_HeHel0dEEFMZl-8PXo0TNplYU5zLhgVQTbpb_21p-AxbZ-XKbh4TFScA4YZjn8Weysl_s/s4032/IMG_E2883.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicRpYS7e6ahdOPzY5H6qFbZAmWBQO2U6hOz_Wd_xduWROzovEtLJANcLgKH3QaMDpdyWD3EcEZ2K19ikxFXvYKs-8rozRRV4y94GqaJN_gDazDiMmwWG2gi_HeHel0dEEFMZl-8PXo0TNplYU5zLhgVQTbpb_21p-AxbZ-XKbh4TFScA4YZjn8Weysl_s/w400-h300/IMG_E2883.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Cloudscape on the Way to Chicago</i>, October 2023</div><i><br /></i><p></p><p><i>When I was studying music history, I was told to never write about “beauty” in music, only about “know-how” of compositional techniques and the mechanism of the artwork taken apart in analysis like a clockwork… I never fully agreed with that, so in my own poetry and photography I happily capture and share with others what I find beautiful, inspirational, good, true…</i></p><p><i> I still believe in Platonian trinity of beauty=goodness=truth. Also in the Three L trinity of Life=Love=Light. Creating beauty, building new, fantastic worlds – what could be better than that? Self-expression is good, but my advice to poets is borrowed from Clancy Imislund of the Midnight Mission (where I worked on grant proposals for a while): “Absolutely No Whining!”</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoJJIu82t290RXfTYUSX8Mdh_LciTA74-GD3ks20OFNQa_UPRIR59AAj944kDNjA4SBvXUGz_xr40ZPgNg5Cd2OSBG1QYul7Tl22w_GdgBbcydk9xy1dOj3cwk_UbthXZykkiu7lsQzJfUYf49i1k_wvJn9smP97eXcyrAsQI5BrChfhebxunOGfibT0/s4032/IMG_2711.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoJJIu82t290RXfTYUSX8Mdh_LciTA74-GD3ks20OFNQa_UPRIR59AAj944kDNjA4SBvXUGz_xr40ZPgNg5Cd2OSBG1QYul7Tl22w_GdgBbcydk9xy1dOj3cwk_UbthXZykkiu7lsQzJfUYf49i1k_wvJn9smP97eXcyrAsQI5BrChfhebxunOGfibT0/w400-h300/IMG_2711.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>A Way Not to Be - A Chemtrail Landscape, </i>Sunland, October 2023</div><br />The photo above is something to "whine" about - chemtrails, made deliberately by planes in the past, drones or planes more recently. What for? Who knows? Dimming to sun because of, gasp, OMG, climate change"? Or increasing the amount of metal nanoparticles in the atmosphere and organic matter to make it all more visible to the machines? Or changing the weather, so we get rain or no rain, drought or floods, depending on the "weather-controllers"' whimsy? There are plenty of patents and plenty of proof worldwide. But no "official" acknowledgement. Event a White House petition I signed many years ago failed to reach 10,000 signatures. ... Oh, well, what can I do? <p></p><p>Instead, let's read two different "whining" poems just for fun; since the time of the great contradiction comes, the time that somehow impresses shopkeepers and shoppers so much they want to recreate cemeteries and skeletons to scare us at Halloween. Another reason to go on a shopping spree and buy imitations of severed hands and bloody eyeballs. Sick. </p><p>But what if we are not afraid of death at all? What if all we want is to celebrate life? In the material world death is inevitable and necessary; otherwise there would be not enough room for all of us. Imagine living along with all the dinosaurs that ever lived, in forests forever full of gigantic mushrooms and ferns... trying to run away from pterodactyls, and the dreaded T-rex teeth... </p><div>Well, it is much better to live, make the best of this life, make all the right choices, create and share joy and learn the most important lessons, primarily of gratitude, wonder, love... Sometimes these lessons are very tricky, too tricky... We do not even pay attention when too busy with our gadgets: Roku, Xumo, X-Box, iPhone... They capture our attention, suck us into a black hole of absence from reality. So we do not look up, do not see the striped skies of chemtrails, do not pay attention to the birds flying by...</div><div><br /></div><div>Take, for instance, the crow, a "failed primadonna" and an enemy of my beloved songbirds. How happy I was when watching a mockingbird couple take upon four crows that tried to get into the bushes to eat their babies. Their heroism dedicated to protecting their children knew no bounds. It is easy to protect your children when you are a mockingbird fighting with crows. It is much harder when surrounded by so much propaganda with so many institutions trying to take away your parental rights. Maybe it is time to exit all these institutions, move somewhere to a homestead in the middle of nowhere, to raise children close to nature, in peace.... </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0qi788PjvKjQ9CMHZy_3_4QIbTeuxGZXzSYzIUKWgF4PvfD64j2Cs81xB2y1BVsCtJYwn9zytOks2w-gDa_w5RjmizApuFKgeeQ8b2NmN_mwnE_Vz9CCXtxbCOeBwYSoIGlcZRSB-UWIkWmM52RJJRTE7xBhJAeI6y0qtBO-X0CWpckwTLxIzhUqSFA/s4032/IMG_2884.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV0qi788PjvKjQ9CMHZy_3_4QIbTeuxGZXzSYzIUKWgF4PvfD64j2Cs81xB2y1BVsCtJYwn9zytOks2w-gDa_w5RjmizApuFKgeeQ8b2NmN_mwnE_Vz9CCXtxbCOeBwYSoIGlcZRSB-UWIkWmM52RJJRTE7xBhJAeI6y0qtBO-X0CWpckwTLxIzhUqSFA/w400-h300/IMG_2884.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Cloudscape II. The Way to Chicago</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No, there are no crows here, I dislike them so sincerely I never take photos of them.</div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">What Do I Know About a Crow<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This crow has
ambitions of a diva, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">in her shiny black
dress of smooth feathers<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">bejeweled by jets
of black beak and eyes<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">She wants to sing
in the opera, bask in <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">the applause of an
enraptured audience<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This crow years to
be a primadonna <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">on the stage, yet
her beak emits<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">rough squacks and
grating <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">kra – kra – kra<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">not enchanting in
the least. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">There is a note of
exasperation in her voice: <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Why me? Why can’t
I sing? Why this voice?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Who knows. We need
crows and nightingales.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Light and
darkness. The fluted polished <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Melodies. That
thrill of electric current <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">down the spine and
the harsh warnings <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Go, go, go, time
to go, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">it is over.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Published in </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;">Zwierzenia Zwierza </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;">anthology</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;"> in Poland (Bezkres, 2020)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL2xrmrGrApl0zqujN29NnrBrlENHrAB3T8n7w3Vw5s4raVo2ZvEc7JMWpssR8gfdVbzVAqiGbdAjlkpHGK1X4nmWbwfYZb2lHCkS7WCE_Ksmx2Zt6c5CYnuuWooYukODuhTSw54jIc4LylQWFdAt73Mq-ZeO-eg0V10EZDp5CR1CsG4qDyNcWolIZ9U/s4032/IMG_1930.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL2xrmrGrApl0zqujN29NnrBrlENHrAB3T8n7w3Vw5s4raVo2ZvEc7JMWpssR8gfdVbzVAqiGbdAjlkpHGK1X4nmWbwfYZb2lHCkS7WCE_Ksmx2Zt6c5CYnuuWooYukODuhTSw54jIc4LylQWFdAt73Mq-ZeO-eg0V10EZDp5CR1CsG4qDyNcWolIZ9U/w400-h300/IMG_1930.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Sunrise with Palm Trees on my Street</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No crows here either. And no chemtrails, the sunrise beam points upwards... </div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Crows are the Messengers</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Of fate, their harsh voices carry far through the valley</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Go, go, go it is over, it is time, go.</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">They fly through blue skies l</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">ike smudges of wood smoke</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">A warning.<i> Think what you do and why.</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">They announce the verdict. They invade your space</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">in the black hour of retribution. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">You do not believe me? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">When you locked yourself </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">in my house, and suddenly h</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">omeless I stood outside, calling 911,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"> at least twenty crows p</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">araded on the street, screeching. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Why? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Crows are the messengers. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">They come back </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">if you do not heed their warnings. </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Remember</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> when </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">you knocked at my door, on the run again, seeking shelter? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Ready to take over </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">my life, as if I owed you?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I half-listened to your pleading and watched </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">two crows on the pine branch behind you</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">passing morsels of bread to each other. A</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> warning?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">A lesson of what to do? Of what not to do? Should I forget</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">that my mom's jewels had </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">disappeared with you </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">like smoke f</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">rom last year’s fires? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">Did two crows in the pine tree tell me</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">to turn you away? Did they ask me to care? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">I’m not skilled in reading signs. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I followed my heart, </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">the fortune cookie said so. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><i>Always walk in the path of your heart. </i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">So I said <i>no</i> to you a</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">nd <i>yes</i> to my children. And that’s all </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">for today, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">the end of the crows and of you.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Published in </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;">Zwierzenia Zwierza </i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #585858; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 14.85px; text-align: left;">anthology in Poland (Bezkres, 2020)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0byVbaurvQrLr70_hhySdj7ns605RkSrWXoDObznwk0O126BdukU_YbJ4dQetSSEJzEd4_opDucT_Bv5x8XFbtnKEnEERGTqbc_qzWtzIECCcJU-jqxlZF0osZuFAwvIVBgn7g4Cp-LNXC2qXc1VxgBCMdbgjNCzhlif6E5vjHnNEKn8BBRtse2iTVA/s4032/IMG_6128.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0byVbaurvQrLr70_hhySdj7ns605RkSrWXoDObznwk0O126BdukU_YbJ4dQetSSEJzEd4_opDucT_Bv5x8XFbtnKEnEERGTqbc_qzWtzIECCcJU-jqxlZF0osZuFAwvIVBgn7g4Cp-LNXC2qXc1VxgBCMdbgjNCzhlif6E5vjHnNEKn8BBRtse2iTVA/w400-h300/IMG_6128.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Pure Gold in Sunlight</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Some people never learn, am I one of them? Or am I just inching forward and upward so slowly it seems to impartial observers I'm sliding back? Well, if I keep my eyes firmly on my goal and if I do not swerve from the straight and narrow, and if, after failing, I pick up the pieces and return to my straight and narrow of doing what's right, what's the best possible option for the largest possible number of people and other sentient beings around me... then I just float upward, into the light. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">The Egyptian Book of the Dead said that after death the heart is weighed on a scale against a single feather. If the heart is lighter than a feather, the soul can float up into the realm of bliss, if the heart is heavy with fear, worry, hate, anger, resentment, dislike - the soul has to come back and redo the lessons again and again. So let's try to be light as a feather. The first step: "absolutely no whining!"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></p><div><br /></div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-35813257317765809172023-08-20T14:03:00.002-07:002023-08-20T14:03:19.921-07:00When it Rains... And the Emperor Wears No Clothes... Write a Poem <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_zmfa4sDLIYyhlbOKoYxNcrI64Keu2aYozjOTxLoG7hLKx3A-LOf7dXX9-lPyzzDbeWPRAQblGByJtq85h49ojvLQ0WCeJMtRTYT0WphaztOscabW4tD8mSW0eIcoShVgK-FI2pvRV-th7_PhCkN_xXNXjBz_p6E76M9KxfwJakw1PtaG09a4FhgnQ4/s4032/IMG_3245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg_zmfa4sDLIYyhlbOKoYxNcrI64Keu2aYozjOTxLoG7hLKx3A-LOf7dXX9-lPyzzDbeWPRAQblGByJtq85h49ojvLQ0WCeJMtRTYT0WphaztOscabW4tD8mSW0eIcoShVgK-FI2pvRV-th7_PhCkN_xXNXjBz_p6E76M9KxfwJakw1PtaG09a4FhgnQ4/w400-h300/IMG_3245.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p>It rains. It was supposed to be some apocalyptic Hurricane Hillary, but what we got is lots of water for our tired Southern California gardens. The stream in our canyon is also filling up. It changed its course last winter, taking out our pathway with it, I wonder if it will shift again. The Big Tujunga Canyon, is indeed "big" and the stream can pick and chose where to go... In my garden, I'm filling out containers with rainwater - I bought a bunch of plastic boxes at Big Lots and will have water for at least three rounds of going from rose bush to rose bush with a bucket. After the winter rains, unusually abundant this year, my DWP water and power bill dropped from an average of $350 to $191 for two months, the lowest I've seen since I moved into this house 25 years ago. I stopped using the hose (the sprinklers died long ago), and had lovely exercise watering my garden every second day with the rainwater I saved from the winter storms... </p><p>So it is time to look at poems. I've been so busy with other people's poetry in the <i>Crystal Fire </i>anthology (2022), and in the <i>California Quarterly </i>- ensuring the issues can go to print, but occasionally also editing as I did 49/2 - that I have not written anything of my own. But, wait, I forgot: I actually penned a ballad inspired by current denialist movement... denying biology and common sense. Our times resemble, more and more, the story from that Andersen's tale about the naked emperor ... Only a child could see it. Aren't we all exhorted to become like children? Able to see? So here it is...</p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">A Chromosome Ballad</span></b></p><p> </p><p>The mothers of mothers of mothers</p><p> plant seeds, care, and give birth.</p><p> The fathers of fathers of fathers</p><p> plant seeds, care, and protect.</p><p>The mothers and fathers</p><p> and sisters and brothers</p><p> come here in organized waves.</p><p>The mothers and fathers</p><p> and sisters and brothers</p><p> leave Earth after passing their tests.</p><p><br /></p><p> When grandmas and grandpas have learned how to live,</p><p> when moms, dads, aunts, uncles shared wisdom as if</p><p> they each had a thousand-year-old treasure chest</p><p> they could open with DNA keys at their best</p><p> matched in pairs XX and XY, </p><p> intertwined XX and XY</p><p> strand after strand unwinding in pairs</p><p> to give you your eyes of hazel or gray,</p><p> your hair blond or brown, skin of varied hues,</p><p> your brilliance and talents, your gifts and your moods.</p><p> </p><p>Remember the pathways</p><p> they came on and left—</p><p> the mothers and fathers</p><p> of east and of west.</p><p><br /></p><p>It was published in the <i>Academic Questions</i> of the National Association of Scholars, Spring 2023. My company was quite illustrious: William Wadsworth, John Milton's Sonnet No. 19, a poem by Catharine Brosman Savage ("Old Fashioneds"). Two women and two men; two classics and two newbies... </p><p>The poem I included in my issue of the <i>California Quarterly</i> Vol. 49 No. 2 was partly posted here in September. Now, after its official publication, it is time to publish the whole. It was a lovely issue with an amazing cover. Since my artist had a family tragedy to deal with and could not send her works in time, I asked for permission to use a cropped photo taken by my son-in-law, Chris Hannemann, during a family walk in San Diego Botanical Gardens. In a play area, I blew soap bubbles to amuse my 18-month-old granddaughter. . . I can truly consider myself a co-author of this photo: my breath is inside these bubbles, immortalized for all to see...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJmJDGNYsX2C38rtrTuVwyY16x268XXPfr6IwqK6QXbv0p7hNGd2ncEgU_IjGS4aXQxru9q23fkYNw-ewfoDArY_BV3d70by5IFKSpNlhbWzJ-H6CX0KMPmNDG2ZGY2iO_aX5kyVr4xPgGhCDD5vLUgRxn7kB1PWDh6QY_uqbdNvMFp4tF923xhktLnY/s2550/CQ%20Vol%2049%20No%202%20Summer%202023%20Cover%20(Front).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="1650" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJmJDGNYsX2C38rtrTuVwyY16x268XXPfr6IwqK6QXbv0p7hNGd2ncEgU_IjGS4aXQxru9q23fkYNw-ewfoDArY_BV3d70by5IFKSpNlhbWzJ-H6CX0KMPmNDG2ZGY2iO_aX5kyVr4xPgGhCDD5vLUgRxn7kB1PWDh6QY_uqbdNvMFp4tF923xhktLnY/w259-h400/CQ%20Vol%2049%20No%202%20Summer%202023%20Cover%20(Front).jpg" width="259" /></a></div><p>This poem is inspired by a gift from my son, who got me Roku, so I could watch what I want after we all gave up on Netflix. I found the whole bunch of Chinese historical and fantasy dramas, with twisted plots, flying ballet of impossible martial arts, and amazing costumes and decorations - quite a different world. No porn, no torture, no twisted values - instead, bravery, honor, respecting family and loving the homeland, nobility, heroism and romance... What's not to like? Maybe there is something... I picked the name of Luo Jin as a co-star of <i>Princess Weiyoung,</i> where he was romantically coupled with his real-life wife, Tiffany Tang. Their chemistry on screen in this fantasy fiction was so touching! </p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I Fell in Love with Luo Jin</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>On the screen, his eyes are smiling,</p><p>when a corner of his mouth lifts up </p><p>in a rakish smirk. I love his bravado— </p><p>as he saves maidens from hungry demons,</p><p>flies through the air while shooting arrows,</p><p>suspended from steel cables, cranes—</p><p>in a deceptive, engineering feat.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am in love with Luo Jin,</p><p>tenderly plucking guzheng strings,</p><p>wistfully gazing at the midnight sky,</p><p>or into eyes of his on-screen lover,</p><p>his real wife. Betrayal? Never!</p><p>He gives me of what I can only dream.</p><p>Like me, billions of others love Mr. Jin,</p><p>seduced by the grand illusion of the film.</p><p>His sword ballet is an aerial dance—</p><p>killing without the stench or rot </p><p>of corpses—purest joy—Oh, Luo Jin!</p><p><br /></p><p>It is hard work to star in Chinese drama—</p><p>learning to fight, ride horses, swim,</p><p>give orders with a motion of one brow,</p><p>threaten by a slight narrowing of eyes—</p><p>subtle, grim. The actor must obey </p><p>directors, bosses, toe the party line—</p><p>deny the genocide, ignore the Uyghurs,</p><p>harvested organs, protests, Falun Gong.</p><p>Alas, he must, he must—deny the facts,</p><p>spread visions of imperial glory, serve. </p><p>the Emperor who may send courtiers, </p><p>whole clans even, to death on a mere whim! </p><p>(Familiar? Always…)</p><p><br /></p><p>Stoic in pain, serene in bliss,</p><p>he’s gentle, modest, as love fills</p><p>his expressive eyes. What do lovers do?</p><p>Embrace each other under a firework-</p><p>blazing sky, make paper lanterns</p><p>that float away on a summer breeze,</p><p>carrying the wishes for what could not be,</p><p>fly diamond kites above the verdant valley,</p><p>stroll, holding hands, through swirls</p><p>of falling petals—sweet cherry </p><p>blossoms of eternal spring.</p><p>(c) Maja Trochimczyk, First published in <i>California Quarterly,</i> Vol. 49, No. 3 (Summer 2023). Another occasional poem, inspired not by the news, but by a history project that took a lot of time since 2000, that is writing the 50-year history of Helena Modjeska Art & Culture Club, arose from my reflections about the biography of the Club's founder, Leonidas Dudarew-Ossetynski (1910-1989), an aristocrat, actor, director, teacher, journalist... With lots of materials from his daughter Valerie Dudarew-Ossetynska Hunken, I'm writing out his first ever biography. The first version for the <i>Album 50-lecia Klubu Kultury im. Heleny Modrzejewskiej</i> (2021) had some omissions. The English version is forthcoming in the English book based on the assortment of materials in the edited Album, entitled <i>Celebrating Modjeska in California. </i>It will be expanded in a volume of Ossetynski's own studies and lectures. A fascinating, neglected, misunderstood person, with politics mixed into the arts that caused a rift in the memory of his achievements. The basics are clear. The achievements not to be denied or hidden any more. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsdAG9-oQkzFQiMCwuH3mP-_02ajoWYmmt6teyEeAggQW4JSgfrFFujFaD3BVIo4tFZCoy9IxRaaH-43tsZAinwrjjM-6U2lhGRYDQI9QNciSu4A_itqFhEcsZILs7Uu3B0qAUP8Ki3FsLYYvWjE9L_POa67tw-LRuWTGU1h9790QaG_PYgrezdR1lQA/s313/leonidas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="313" data-original-width="246" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsdAG9-oQkzFQiMCwuH3mP-_02ajoWYmmt6teyEeAggQW4JSgfrFFujFaD3BVIo4tFZCoy9IxRaaH-43tsZAinwrjjM-6U2lhGRYDQI9QNciSu4A_itqFhEcsZILs7Uu3B0qAUP8Ki3FsLYYvWjE9L_POa67tw-LRuWTGU1h9790QaG_PYgrezdR1lQA/w314-h400/leonidas.jpg" width="314" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lucy Dzierzkowska, portrait of Leonidas Dudarew-Ossetyński, lost, previously in family collections. Photo from the archives of Valerie Hunken. The military uniform is now on display at the Polish Museum of America in Chicago.</span></div><div><br /></div></div><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The Prophet</span></b></p><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>~ For Leonidas Dudarew Ossetyński (1910-1989), </p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p> founder of Helena Modjeska Art & Culture Club</p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p> </p></blockquote></blockquote><p>And they say he looked like a bum –</p><p>barefoot, with long white beard and disheveled hair –</p><p>this “Lithuanian” prince, Boyar Dudarew, kniaź.</p><p>Adam in a Christmas pageant. Black-leather biker.</p><p>On screen – a guru, villain, hero, larger than life.</p><p> </p><p>An exemplar of cruel fate suffered by millions – </p><p>deported, exiled, vilified, like him removed </p><p>from the living fabric of their nations</p><p>by winds of history – not random, and not blind – </p><p>Purposeful in dispersing leaders of afflicted nations, </p><p>destroying the most talented and bright.</p><p><br /></p><p>Bravely, he fought Germans in two armies. </p><p>Captured, he escaped from a war prisoners camp.</p><p>A double veteran, after death, was finally honored. </p><p>His whole life – of a fierce patriot serving Poland,</p><p>A glorious idea, far greater than himself. </p><p> </p><p>Requiem for all victims of all wars </p><p>at the Music Center? – a ten-year project! </p><p>Inspiring dramas for his Modjeska Players? </p><p>Through him Mrożek’s Emigranci came to life. </p><p>Witkacy’s Matka awed critics, won ten prizes. </p><p> </p><p>A correspondent of Prince Giedroyć’s journal,</p><p>known in Paris, London and New York, </p><p>it is L.A. he chose as site for Polish culture –</p><p>a dream of survivors, creative, noble, proud. </p><p><br /></p><p>With stage success of Modjeska as a model,</p><p>he brought musicians, actors to play and dance.</p><p>His goal: so far on the antipodes, to build,</p><p>defend and cherish an outpost of high culture, </p><p>the heritage of a nation that too many willed to die. </p><p> </p><p>Survival is the skill of those who can endure.</p><p>Resilience is the talent of refusing to give up.</p><p>Wild Leonidas, with long white beard and hair,</p><p>was a true prophet for all émigrés and exiles, </p><p>dispersed by winds of history, without mercy, </p><p>scattered throughout the strange, stark world. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOLqnPB5kMS-ukz-n2qvM6A-lafECOlr3CoRFgLsAh1mzmmGYz9q10-CmHtKk27g-kFh8t_27CF989FMS6T83e11rH_h0Sx7dlliLkk0xEwn8GhJPqxO7HVXHyQXBAwoAf1HnWzkyZ5JXvo_tOAUBJ559jBeADnDAP6af9fS4jSu-7ouc8ovrcwluE1c/s320/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="221" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOLqnPB5kMS-ukz-n2qvM6A-lafECOlr3CoRFgLsAh1mzmmGYz9q10-CmHtKk27g-kFh8t_27CF989FMS6T83e11rH_h0Sx7dlliLkk0xEwn8GhJPqxO7HVXHyQXBAwoAf1HnWzkyZ5JXvo_tOAUBJ559jBeADnDAP6af9fS4jSu-7ouc8ovrcwluE1c/w276-h400/unnamed.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Leonidas Dudarew-Ossetynski's portrait, a favorite of his daughter. </span></div><br /><p><br /></p><div><br /></div><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-71450693120672294042023-05-16T13:19:00.006-07:002023-05-17T12:10:35.659-07:00Not All About Roses... Dreams, Gardens, and Clearing Karma in the Spring<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQ1ZIXcm4cBk8T7hYtcfWdRHVQrXomrj9UzAGENpJl_LvcDwNQPdyf9CT6dZ9ywuRl_8zHIBWZiNWxRvPAAE-wxsJL90adbDl3VkGpn-rXrWmGZLoJYBCdL-YpCzOfr-Z5RCEdonHnGY5Ob0zB21jC3OIuuq8QxG6-8kfhlnnj17olEzQDuiX3tXX/s3024/IMG_3935.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrQ1ZIXcm4cBk8T7hYtcfWdRHVQrXomrj9UzAGENpJl_LvcDwNQPdyf9CT6dZ9ywuRl_8zHIBWZiNWxRvPAAE-wxsJL90adbDl3VkGpn-rXrWmGZLoJYBCdL-YpCzOfr-Z5RCEdonHnGY5Ob0zB21jC3OIuuq8QxG6-8kfhlnnj17olEzQDuiX3tXX/w400-h400/IMG_3935.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /> How vivid are your dreams? Mine are so intense that I'm sometimes completely disoriented when I wake up and find myself in my house in California instead of where the night-time adventures took me. I was so busy and now I'm resting? That's so strange... I think and start another day. <p></p><p>Dreams are great for poems, though so I thought I'll write down the two dreams I had and make them into poems of sorts, too long and narrative for journal submission, but just right for the wordy blog.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojBJFOHaArNp2owX5FUcV730zzJFIPunIw9kRWk0Q5L7j7r3iFLPb7nE3slPKS6abMqsu_Itv6wd9r1fUunR49CcANAKmXoYxpn1XjTw4QK0svFUX7a9eQoWqB9hqyXVMJ18jkUVzvl9jZj1_ylSPeYa2PWwO0FC8bJafCefxbNQCxHHdKps_s6oh/s3024/IMG_3702.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojBJFOHaArNp2owX5FUcV730zzJFIPunIw9kRWk0Q5L7j7r3iFLPb7nE3slPKS6abMqsu_Itv6wd9r1fUunR49CcANAKmXoYxpn1XjTw4QK0svFUX7a9eQoWqB9hqyXVMJ18jkUVzvl9jZj1_ylSPeYa2PWwO0FC8bJafCefxbNQCxHHdKps_s6oh/w400-h400/IMG_3702.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">On Friday after a Dream of Cleaning Vases</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>I ran away from demons, chasing me through crowded streets.</p><p>I cleaned off layers of black paint from an antique vase </p><p>I inherited from my parents. See? It's smooth surface glistens </p><p>as cobalt phoenixes dance in white, porcelain sky.</p><p><br /></p><p>Let's arrange flowers you brought in this graceful vase -</p><p>hyacinth, irises and daisies, a pastel bouquet on clouds of sweet alyssum. </p><p><br /></p><p>No? How about a rose rainbow from my garden? Compassion, </p><p>Yellow Mellow, Double Delight and French Perfume. Do not forget</p><p>the charms of decades-old Love at First Sight! Its scarlet petals lined with silver</p><p>remind you that nothing is ever simple. Everything changes. Nothing lasts. </p><p><br /></p><p>Let's walk down the garden path scented with orange blossoms.</p><p>Forget the lilacs of your youth. Let's smell the roses, shall we? </p><p>The hybrid teas have a slight flavor but here's the Grande Dame - </p><p>so magnificent in her fragrant, magenta gown.</p><p><br /></p><p>Tired? Let me serve you Armenian tea - honey-hued, translucent liquid, </p><p>steaming from the delicate China cup. Let's raise a toast</p><p>to timeless values. Let's celebrate togetherness and peace. </p><p><br /></p><p>There was a time to run. Time to stop running. </p><p>There is a time to say "Enough!" No pasaran. </p><p>They shall not pass. When you say "No" </p><p>They have to listen. It is the Cosmic Law, you know. </p><p><br /></p><p>Do not give up. You'll win your life back through loyalty and strength. </p><p>Balance your courage with the virtue of restraint. Hone justice </p><p>with ageless wisdom. Do not be cruel. Always stay kind. </p><p>Be careful - don't break the crystal core of your new heart!</p><p><br /></p><p>How hard the lessons! How many failures haunt the past! </p><p>Do not look back. Regrets will turn you into a fierce demon. </p><p>Breathe deeply, slowly in my vibrant garden. </p><p>Live now, drink tea from Grandma's favorite, gold-rimmed cup!</p><p><br /></p><p>May 8, 2023</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2onllb1WHrLE_PP7k5qd8O2E0c3JlAUjSUF0iX8-qb-dRGQx55DRpXjcqEfGXOF7TG4gCvVV5Xh41z01FGzONybBOB144D5QS46WgDuohAyr7kCtLkdI-hnWnNDGZMazrRBL5-1woq8azUgFJUeivVNc-ExfDliY8MkDjhQ-rvG8ygVngqFDaozMv/s4032/IMG_3892.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2onllb1WHrLE_PP7k5qd8O2E0c3JlAUjSUF0iX8-qb-dRGQx55DRpXjcqEfGXOF7TG4gCvVV5Xh41z01FGzONybBOB144D5QS46WgDuohAyr7kCtLkdI-hnWnNDGZMazrRBL5-1woq8azUgFJUeivVNc-ExfDliY8MkDjhQ-rvG8ygVngqFDaozMv/w400-h300/IMG_3892.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>The poem is inspired by a dream of washing a black-painted vase that slowly reveals its Chinese pattern of dancing phoenixes, blue on white. It seems like magic, removing dirt of the past, accumulated through generations, or done on purpose out of spite, to reveal such timeless, elegant beauty. There is a deeper meaning to the dream - the cleaning of ancestral karma, the hard work it takes to dissolve generations-old weight of ill emotions, regrets, despair. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUy2SrVxe1AoVnvCqF5q6ek0Cld2Hg9KxTQr8XTgZTOODDkS0YGbAfMMjdovafqYSlF4pcrTbWLibIHplHSnjwdy8A7QRXUmiHImEpSX2ZuNuPEPcuR_L7gIpKSYckq046X937B9596z_Dflyb9pIvirSvChM06gFg9SWf3xblHI45qWlkPzOV6NO/s3024/IMG_3610.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUy2SrVxe1AoVnvCqF5q6ek0Cld2Hg9KxTQr8XTgZTOODDkS0YGbAfMMjdovafqYSlF4pcrTbWLibIHplHSnjwdy8A7QRXUmiHImEpSX2ZuNuPEPcuR_L7gIpKSYckq046X937B9596z_Dflyb9pIvirSvChM06gFg9SWf3xblHI45qWlkPzOV6NO/w400-h400/IMG_3610.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>But then, there is the garden, birdsong and roses. It's been my lifesaver in the plandemic, a refuge of serenity and beauty. I survived my bout of illness outside in sunlight, sweating it out while birds sang and orange blossoms filled the air with heavenly scent. It is so important to be close to nature. Just enjoy life - of plants, birds, lizards, clouds. So much joy in ever leaf, every chirp and note of every winged creature. I was raised in a house with a garden, and loved going outside every day to watch the narcissus and daffodils sprout in their circles on the flowerbed, watch the golden forsythia bloom in an avalanche of petals, wait for the cherries to ripen, play with the willow branches, or read a book on the lawn. Such simple, ageless delights. No TV, no fancy parties, just being alive in nature being alive, flowering and fruitful. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9FE3TI6cvA0jytpuPR7e3fhHHzJSHsOaovzmVdmKx1Hk8_91rZcP21faK4MQPwaAnTMXBx_55XbBgqCzSZniAVLUhfKSxhC3uaNZoDTn54Qy49hQJqtblVla5bLel2Z8pYRaT19lAduWBx1gK4DFNVpuqejo4QFUCDAfGqXqLSkYcZwVZRNJyCjK/s3024/IMG_3866.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9FE3TI6cvA0jytpuPR7e3fhHHzJSHsOaovzmVdmKx1Hk8_91rZcP21faK4MQPwaAnTMXBx_55XbBgqCzSZniAVLUhfKSxhC3uaNZoDTn54Qy49hQJqtblVla5bLel2Z8pYRaT19lAduWBx1gK4DFNVpuqejo4QFUCDAfGqXqLSkYcZwVZRNJyCjK/w400-h400/IMG_3866.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>When looking for a house in California I picked the one I've been living in for 25 years because of its large garden, fruit trees, and roses, so many patent roses planted back in the early 1950s, Four of these bushes are still alive, still blooming. A couple were "murdered" by a gardener whom I promptly fired - cut them down below the single bud, so the transplanted large-blossom hybrids could not grow back. These roses are "hybrid" because they grow from other roses' stronger roots. At times the parent will try to bloom as well, shooting long branches out with small red flowers. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahdksIP_RM5Wm4f7YddQTELN48TS2th6lnh4Z3ejMTZd8R-XLkV6PbzWPMTwpTm5LOThRYN_RDQymw72xR-ZdW7Da85OhAmHQn7ESZSYBm3R_xjm5ZHyxwYF85tEkV34zyM7i7TNNTvAkFb-_jt9tXjHBUBCQakgzj1REPu2232k-feyzVgJHzScl/s4032/IMG_3591.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgahdksIP_RM5Wm4f7YddQTELN48TS2th6lnh4Z3ejMTZd8R-XLkV6PbzWPMTwpTm5LOThRYN_RDQymw72xR-ZdW7Da85OhAmHQn7ESZSYBm3R_xjm5ZHyxwYF85tEkV34zyM7i7TNNTvAkFb-_jt9tXjHBUBCQakgzj1REPu2232k-feyzVgJHzScl/w400-h300/IMG_3591.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>The roses I inherited - Mister Lincoln, Compassion, Peace and Love at First Sight are still lovely, but not really fragrant. For delightful rose scents, I have to turn to the roses I planted - French Perfume, Mellow Yellow, Pop Art, and Grande Dame, Firefighter... The last two are quite alike, despite their names - dark wine-red in hue, huge double flowers, with rounded petals, more magenta in tone than wine of the Grande Dame. Who would have thought that Firefighter would not smell of smoke and sweat? The Mellow Yellow is not as extraordinarily beautiful as the Oregold of darker, richer yellow and almost no scent. But the fragrance! I decided never to buy roses without rose scent again. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnCopet1peOP1Qkfj4WpiDJOIfsSpBTxpWmHHnWEYri-e7bZj9CbW4KG9-KUXoZfdfn1Ji1BIo3Q73hzR2Ws6eaProxpvNTe51H9yezEb8drLaFCQQXMfBRj6EpBpulg42zOy53qiHlzWjuqg-fvqq_FlU0EqwiH3fFIr5LfcNmP1hNYQOvrLyrvR/s4032/IMG_3906.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinnCopet1peOP1Qkfj4WpiDJOIfsSpBTxpWmHHnWEYri-e7bZj9CbW4KG9-KUXoZfdfn1Ji1BIo3Q73hzR2Ws6eaProxpvNTe51H9yezEb8drLaFCQQXMfBRj6EpBpulg42zOy53qiHlzWjuqg-fvqq_FlU0EqwiH3fFIr5LfcNmP1hNYQOvrLyrvR/w300-h400/IMG_3906.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p>Colors are interesting, too. Many of my roses are of a single tone - Mister Lincoln of dark, velvety wine-red, Electron and Compassion of clear, vivid pink, Mellow Yellow of creamy, sunny hue, the wine-red-magenta Grande Dame and Firefighter, and of course the pure white Iceberg floribunda bush, that guards the door with its year-round profusion of delicate blooms. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrTVHtYOuj2Ty_CEk0mqsEt6W34uNns3Od7zu7O4DAX3IuzkW7zH273sBW2UBiDZoJyNdlwhJDm5a8--lqXuoknSBiCJnKlhIRHwOab6-2lKHLvmx6L1JCH_PDB6zJDV3wlh-K60vBXsR2vbXGszuiDjZulNH89cYBpJni0kWTQ1ghQTB6CxGJEDd/s3024/IMG_3941.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrTVHtYOuj2Ty_CEk0mqsEt6W34uNns3Od7zu7O4DAX3IuzkW7zH273sBW2UBiDZoJyNdlwhJDm5a8--lqXuoknSBiCJnKlhIRHwOab6-2lKHLvmx6L1JCH_PDB6zJDV3wlh-K60vBXsR2vbXGszuiDjZulNH89cYBpJni0kWTQ1ghQTB6CxGJEDd/w400-h400/IMG_3941.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Charmed by the Love at First Sight I inherited, I looked for two-tone roses and found Peace and Chicago Peace of white, light yellow and pink, Double Delight of white with dark pink edges, Deep Purple with burgundy edges on purple blooms, Rainbow Sorbet of yellow, orange, pinkish red changing in hues as they age, and, my most recent discovery, a fragrant Pop Art, its yellow petals striped with pink. The best of the best - both lovely and fragrant! I have not kept the tags from these bushes, so I may have forgotten - one bush with pink-yellow-white blossoms seems to be Dream Come True. Another with soft-pink huge flowers = is it Carefree Wonder? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDltDqNbLEcT5qRhVgIs9_sho6y8XCvRVFFgjWmJ1S2MeXPZLhdBlfiNi4peZiOuSEwgzVw9Y8eEqCnfMV-EQ1V-2NYUk5aJc00p_3vCW10gFTIYr4i0sWAGFGkC3nnBpMHZ7rZFpfx6CdfJ3ejowvIEwlfDZapajhe6Fwn_Lf7fa0w8gH66BUOpw/s3024/IMG_3900.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDltDqNbLEcT5qRhVgIs9_sho6y8XCvRVFFgjWmJ1S2MeXPZLhdBlfiNi4peZiOuSEwgzVw9Y8eEqCnfMV-EQ1V-2NYUk5aJc00p_3vCW10gFTIYr4i0sWAGFGkC3nnBpMHZ7rZFpfx6CdfJ3ejowvIEwlfDZapajhe6Fwn_Lf7fa0w8gH66BUOpw/w400-h400/IMG_3900.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>This year I added some blue to my palette - small stems of szafirki and mid-size blue-yellow Japanese iris. Strong rusty orange in bunches of gazania compete with miniature carnations in white, pink and amaranth. White and pink African daisies I bought for 1$ each are still filling in the palette. I'm very sensitive to color, so much so that I do not like black and white films, and do not go to see exhibits of drawings, which, in black and white are simply boring. But add color and the image explodes! So here's another, more colorful dream, that went from jewel hues into pure gold and diamond of intense, joyful light. My life seems to follow the same trajectory. </p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0oTMLmgu8RXaw9j6pYfKWI0J0drUbCKwnX2KJE3WXNh1mTl_He9B3Mm5A07C8rHVnznvvzFaBeca2ar6SVW_yQwV7bammbKkCCSVZYor_5d1qtCdwANZQ2qKes5X_12uBnPoWwztfS58_Mo97cSMKPsTii-EYO58KCezGu5Nvx6Jm2mJXY_mUX6a/s3024/IMG_3584.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0oTMLmgu8RXaw9j6pYfKWI0J0drUbCKwnX2KJE3WXNh1mTl_He9B3Mm5A07C8rHVnznvvzFaBeca2ar6SVW_yQwV7bammbKkCCSVZYor_5d1qtCdwANZQ2qKes5X_12uBnPoWwztfS58_Mo97cSMKPsTii-EYO58KCezGu5Nvx6Jm2mJXY_mUX6a/w400-h400/IMG_3584.JPG" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">On Sunday, After a Dream of Jewel Lights</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>I remember us, together, flying upwards through the infinite </p><p>lapis of cosmic expanse measured in constellations.</p><p>Intertwined in a tight embrace, we were one. </p><p>Two halves of a divine apple of energy - twirling, swirling </p><p>in a feeria of jewel hues - ruby, emerald, sapphire. </p><p><br /></p><p>Oh, how I miss those timeless days, years, eras of untold bliss! </p><p>Language was not needed. Transparent to each other, </p><p>we shared thoughts i an instant of yes, always yes.</p><p><br /></p><p>We crash-landed on a small, distant planet of green forests</p><p> and aquamarine seas. Everything became heavy, dense </p><p>on this continent of eroding rocks and cold rains.</p><p>Separated, we looked for each other in life after life, </p><p>we passed test after test of unforgetting. </p><p><br /></p><p>Would you recognize me without the crown of cosmic jewels? </p><p>Would I find you in an alien landscape of chaparral and muddy winter streams? </p><p>How could I tell it is you, among the desert dust of degradation? </p><p><br /></p><p>Yes, always yes, I recognize you in the topaz eyes </p><p>looking at me with this irresistible energy of masculine </p><p>desire, commanding me to do, what I do not want to do.</p><p>Would you still love me if I were an ancient crone?</p><p>Would I still love the demon you've become? </p><p>Greedy and resentful, hungry for scraps of my affection, fucus, time? </p><p><br /></p><p>Oh how I yearn for our return to the interstellar realm </p><p>of jewel lights. Purified through water, fire - lost and found - </p><p>we will ascend from ruby, emerald, sapphire</p><p>through the sphere of gold diamond rays</p><p>ever expanding into the luminous</p><p>intensity of grace.</p><p><br /></p><p>Patience, patience is the key. </p><p><br /></p><p>May 8, 2023</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcZpwtJG6zcqAIti5bVtcEXT1D8XnT6bAMExEFFqD6mfgLV6MZUXS4USAhvL2xjKgL0jqUIrzNs-l8jH23Y9SsC4WzAzjDId8501eoWKUl89TJA03NoLycVzhnzdAyo24QptaLJbYEF7GOGaqvQL4NfYsi5ROo1t3LINTBSPSpgv_n2aXuqg9Pt39/s4032/IMG_3603.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNcZpwtJG6zcqAIti5bVtcEXT1D8XnT6bAMExEFFqD6mfgLV6MZUXS4USAhvL2xjKgL0jqUIrzNs-l8jH23Y9SsC4WzAzjDId8501eoWKUl89TJA03NoLycVzhnzdAyo24QptaLJbYEF7GOGaqvQL4NfYsi5ROo1t3LINTBSPSpgv_n2aXuqg9Pt39/w400-h300/IMG_3603.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQniBGOKqPm-18RXzbf57vE5mkCq30JuGE2IUmTmBSa-DnEqmqliS8_QeXSn5zKpSr36JxhMivE0K7sqVQlLvDn2RcgX3Dxsfc_AkisjaQl-7TFzBQJZF7tSa1CnfSSANiLuQekkf72MldLtuByMPkm-T-8gZHpYbmBVTQkGoLYgr4W1JdYNWGeeWX/s4032/IMG_3592.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQniBGOKqPm-18RXzbf57vE5mkCq30JuGE2IUmTmBSa-DnEqmqliS8_QeXSn5zKpSr36JxhMivE0K7sqVQlLvDn2RcgX3Dxsfc_AkisjaQl-7TFzBQJZF7tSa1CnfSSANiLuQekkf72MldLtuByMPkm-T-8gZHpYbmBVTQkGoLYgr4W1JdYNWGeeWX/w400-h300/IMG_3592.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-50158383858097555152023-05-02T07:53:00.007-07:002024-02-25T19:48:07.004-08:00Rafik Amadol's Living Paintings - Computers and Mimesis, Art Imitating Nature <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HrkG5uortf01p1dlmNyDaImc_CXHTJTI_TuLVjy2aEhOKhVtYSfk5eFECJm7E7J0v9Q6SvQoHxfNzvtcxT-mdF6ky-7sQTsmy6Tk8xvm40kJMMJiJUpp0KeWnPqMMOtxPuva0eoYOKfDhXh0u73TufrroplroOsP4j1UJ8zYqtCML9hIob_ZOqDh/s2048/343761384_3344757052443540_2847947831790405103_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HrkG5uortf01p1dlmNyDaImc_CXHTJTI_TuLVjy2aEhOKhVtYSfk5eFECJm7E7J0v9Q6SvQoHxfNzvtcxT-mdF6ky-7sQTsmy6Tk8xvm40kJMMJiJUpp0KeWnPqMMOtxPuva0eoYOKfDhXh0u73TufrroplroOsP4j1UJ8zYqtCML9hIob_ZOqDh/w400-h400/343761384_3344757052443540_2847947831790405103_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Rafik Anadol's Living Paintings are extraordinary, especially the evolving landscapes where mountains rise and fall, oceans advance and withdraws, star constellations build glaciers that melt into lakes. I was completely transfixed by their beauty, accidentally discovered during a visit to a Monday Evening Concert of Process Music... Then I came back for some more. This was a three-month show at an art gallery in Los Angeles, but I somehow missed it. Too many art exhibits I saw were basically the same, boring, broken bits and pieces, the detritus of sick imagination. Nothing to it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But the three "California Landscapes" slow moving digital art based on landscape photographs were astounding! The explanatory notes talked about Artificial Intelligence being involved in the creation of these fantastic pieces; but I disagree. The computer could select individual trajectories of thousands of spheres floating around on the screens, but definitely did not come up with the whole idea. So the credit goes to the artist, in my mind. The California landscapes transforming into each other were my favorites. First, during my initial visit to the gallery, I admired the most the monumental waves of magma modelled from movement of air currents - a wall of images and colors, huge and amazing! Then, I noticed the smaller, slower-evolving "living paintings" in the second room of the gallery. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I think I was hypnotized by the evolution of the Earth I saw... I was joined on the bench in front of these three pieces by many others, resting their eyes on the beauty of artistically-transformed and ever evolving landscapes. Such delight!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Some of the misty mountain landscapes, with peaks rising and falling in shifting light of the seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter, day and night, rain and sunshine - reminded me of the most famous Romantic painting of solitude in the mountains by Caspar David Friedrich, "Wanderer above the Sea of Fog" (1818). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCWmXlMVLlbAKHL-kGHnXJCooCs7sD3vUQi1ExdZqUwI6yHlLse166ZzHgGdoY5AR0tHm9iwMLkDBq_L-PQYrvMWiZGNGCStcWVybVFZ4ycsWbWnS-ya5c7hGuEFYxkvZSvYsYg8NaJgA0YmfDPMw9b-k9WrlPb5XC_56ZsksWkq4yjQnozzW1VxO/s4032/IMG_3729.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCWmXlMVLlbAKHL-kGHnXJCooCs7sD3vUQi1ExdZqUwI6yHlLse166ZzHgGdoY5AR0tHm9iwMLkDBq_L-PQYrvMWiZGNGCStcWVybVFZ4ycsWbWnS-ya5c7hGuEFYxkvZSvYsYg8NaJgA0YmfDPMw9b-k9WrlPb5XC_56ZsksWkq4yjQnozzW1VxO/w300-h400/IMG_3729.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A sole man above a fog-covered valley, alone on a mountain peak, became the key symbol of romantic solitude and reflection, the key to the sublime. Mr. Amadol found a different version or many different versions of the sublime in shifting, clashing, transforming patterns of movement and color. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><b>After a Visit to an Art Gallery</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">In a hall of Rafik Anadol's living paintings</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">the Universe breathes and moves,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">mountain ranges rise and fall,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">oceans clash and dance.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">If I could live a million or a billion years </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">that's how I'd see the Earth - rising and falling - </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">a sea morphs into a lake shrouded in mists, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">becomes the bottom of a mountain valley, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">a melting glacier among snow-covered peaks, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">under a cluster of alien stars. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Living, breathing matter folds itself into itself</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">pulled by invisible strings of constellations. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Patterns twist and evolve in waves </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">upon waves of transient beauty.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So that's what it was, that's what it is. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Nothing's fixed. There is no ground under our feet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Everything's fluid. Only the endless motion. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagCFHiepEYZ_PAEWT-Yk2rtwecuZBDSV9hOeEW96ga2BuZaqMY7uWImmDHjeloEM3rnsODScr7sgkrnBjgc9JcUJm-C3g0jn9JFPsW35CPxU2Rv3EGVXP-Y0OoZgljuJIHEXOdDzU72NBe94gI0VQgaZo9soO-U5NDCJGx-9mNnYiiMeohWItVKpC/s2048/343962503_1393225714808953_6082956331652550557_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjagCFHiepEYZ_PAEWT-Yk2rtwecuZBDSV9hOeEW96ga2BuZaqMY7uWImmDHjeloEM3rnsODScr7sgkrnBjgc9JcUJm-C3g0jn9JFPsW35CPxU2Rv3EGVXP-Y0OoZgljuJIHEXOdDzU72NBe94gI0VQgaZo9soO-U5NDCJGx-9mNnYiiMeohWItVKpC/w400-h300/343962503_1393225714808953_6082956331652550557_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The image above with multiple lines pulling itself into new shapes is a fragment of a larger, vertical "living painting" made from photographs of California landscapes, mountains, hills, lakes and oceans that slowly shift from one into another. The impression of watching California in geological time of whole eras is indelible. The fascination endless. No wonder so many young people were sitting in front of these evolving images for so long, transfixed by the evolution of the planet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZWPKT_vyooDayAX42Iv9JQDNLQgPcbw3Nl3Tq14UkhleagJOuXy16Byx9V8-FuNodNokP0vefy18cfKiYgOpPnedrxhFSahkaLb7NaYShev9H8R4MuuaM-fCZlxqaU42CfKgqzaxi7tnj1DxO8dpRxuYOKWo0YC-rdQtZ4s8hhlah-E91IbqmcT2/s4032/IMG_3720.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZWPKT_vyooDayAX42Iv9JQDNLQgPcbw3Nl3Tq14UkhleagJOuXy16Byx9V8-FuNodNokP0vefy18cfKiYgOpPnedrxhFSahkaLb7NaYShev9H8R4MuuaM-fCZlxqaU42CfKgqzaxi7tnj1DxO8dpRxuYOKWo0YC-rdQtZ4s8hhlah-E91IbqmcT2/w400-h300/IMG_3720.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The images were made from thousands of data points fed into a computer and then calculated by the machine. Rafik Amadol, a Turkish artist, calls this machine creation and AI art, but I think it is Mr. Amadol's art -after all he programmed the machine, selected the images and made Art to Imitate Nature in the grandest and most ancient tradition of mimesis. In ancient aesthetic theories, "mimesis" or "imitation" of nature by art was its highest value. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwuxePs17a75AHt6AJj1dBptquIvU8so6anWTLf7LNKLkOBhCvrFQEfaqWNysPIDF5Dte96TqCE_drV-aGe' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This aesthetic hierarchy, placing first Art Imitating Nature, then all other art, has persisted in Western culture for thousands of years, from ancient Greece to the early modern period. Only in the late 19th century the artists' imagination became of more value than their ability to see and portray what they see. The breach with "Art Imitating Nature" took place. Mimesis became the domain of "kitsch." The results, though at first laudable, as in impressionism, were ultimately disastrous. From the jokes of surrealists, through the distortions of cubists, we reached the weirdness of conceptualism. After WWII we ended up with tons of garbage parading as art and pretending to have intrinsic value. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I somehow fail to notice value in such grand-standing experiments; except in cases of painters inspired by geometry, color, or the art of seeing itself, like Mondrian, Klee, Dali, and Julian Stanczak. So, when visiting galleries and museums I tend to gravitate to galleries where Madonnas and saints may be found with their golden haloes and intricately detailed gowns. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCE5o-A6HcLI9lWXV7to4yVo4fNMTElgSCBUaQ7ijV6SSheKvIVJ99Fye5hRVDXVPIPQTppkzEfAHiLR0j7VWstwclteS_EW3N_DxwHotcw8lqO75PlBu_20Tq8_cYHO5rIlr7o28RrL4WpaBvIVgZhZCPLgwrsZJokWbe-hjvtXzGPlRjqLFVMhZ/s4032/IMG_3723.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCE5o-A6HcLI9lWXV7to4yVo4fNMTElgSCBUaQ7ijV6SSheKvIVJ99Fye5hRVDXVPIPQTppkzEfAHiLR0j7VWstwclteS_EW3N_DxwHotcw8lqO75PlBu_20Tq8_cYHO5rIlr7o28RrL4WpaBvIVgZhZCPLgwrsZJokWbe-hjvtXzGPlRjqLFVMhZ/w300-h400/IMG_3723.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The crowds at Amadol's exhibit show that "Art Imitating Nature" is alive and well - and using huge banks of data of movement of Pacific Ocean, for instance, or shifting wind pressure, temperature and humidity around Los Angeles may result in the creation of unforgettable, vivid, hypnotically beautiful moving works of art. Hats off to the artist - for harnessing the machine to rediscover the ancient tradition of Mimesis and for restoring the principle of "artisanship" to art. Old masters spent a long time perfecting their paintings, portraits and landscapes. They did not just pour paint from backets or threw eggs on the wall. They actually worked on design, details of composition, details of textures, surfaces and expression to achieve the desired effect. Mr. Amadol harnessed the power of computing machines and software to achieve his goal of creating large-scale mobile artworks. So beautiful! </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaT7xg_AbvD095W8jtLAGZjTruUgcm4beb3ay9RvHIOazgmUh_uXYMHF5DM3NSnV6XBDFC3_wSxR484_bctokh7YVNdbgTcj6zDBZq3-MIuxtdNIwVDpM6H-0nIHWY6ENYBlj0s1f_bK0OOk7QiJUPLB38mRaG6E9t2vCGb2BIgq78Qr_F_xKIVYM/s1536/rafik%20California%20Landscapes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1155" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaT7xg_AbvD095W8jtLAGZjTruUgcm4beb3ay9RvHIOazgmUh_uXYMHF5DM3NSnV6XBDFC3_wSxR484_bctokh7YVNdbgTcj6zDBZq3-MIuxtdNIwVDpM6H-0nIHWY6ENYBlj0s1f_bK0OOk7QiJUPLB38mRaG6E9t2vCGb2BIgq78Qr_F_xKIVYM/w301-h400/rafik%20California%20Landscapes.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sitting on a bench and watching the landscapes shift in front of me, made me think of the inevitable change, the patterns in my life, and the need to accept these transformation in magnanimity and peace. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>The Breath of Life</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Earth breathes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mountains rise and fall.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oceans spread out and withdraw.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Seasons change. Plants grow from seed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">into flower into fruit into seed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Why do you expect to never change? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Why do you spend thousands to torture yourself</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">with plastic surgery to remain slim and youthful? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Why not accept the flow of time and grow old with grace? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was a girl, a woman, a wife, a mother. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Time to become a crone - time to withdraw</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">into a shell of wrinkles, collect the wisdom</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">from all I've seen and done. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The body changes, yet I AM the same.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I only know more, love more, laugh more. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The scales fall off my eyes, I see the infinite</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">in a grain of sand, a leaf, a stirring of breeze</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">in the tree branches, the swaying of golden grass</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">beneath live oaks. Cloaked in transient matter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I AM infinite like a perfect pebble, a perfect song</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of the matter delighting in existence. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Earth breathes. Let me breathe with her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The mountains rise and fall. The Earth lives on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Time is a turbulent river. I'm a rock carried </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">by its waves, polished into perfection</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">that I AM. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXZ-H7hnUNCvTxzHMuAOMX-3kGVsOgaD9yvoM0hkfDz25oO3Y18t5FpPK9CpJ7QSS29rH3ItLFEy7wytBHl5J2d-3mry9oF9IgWPNxNiR07xK5Qk0VYJbLjSLNfUuWhwB8pgn2rGteqkVfVBpefXOl-tVrMf8wQNotIDxGa1km4ov3a3_EiFBVIwR/s2048/344274380_545015387807831_5167979678962146938_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXZ-H7hnUNCvTxzHMuAOMX-3kGVsOgaD9yvoM0hkfDz25oO3Y18t5FpPK9CpJ7QSS29rH3ItLFEy7wytBHl5J2d-3mry9oF9IgWPNxNiR07xK5Qk0VYJbLjSLNfUuWhwB8pgn2rGteqkVfVBpefXOl-tVrMf8wQNotIDxGa1km4ov3a3_EiFBVIwR/w400-h300/344274380_545015387807831_5167979678962146938_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The imaginary landscapes erupt in a conflagration, or dissolve into different shapes, colors, hues...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXuoNMRefE_-bNmSdRPr32SQPwiqr2mllmdHzoodRMWN4UbLjPQD8LEsKdN278M7HdnzAqkFN7ihxkniqLj1MsFIXezJxmjaNcVAMxtxTQX8TUyymQ3OWi7lWcdEEcRBFJ2c0xivCb-I73vN0FT6Am195ED6B6i_Dkv1ms1MtCYvjjO7-z1aYGe9w/s4032/IMG_3710.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXuoNMRefE_-bNmSdRPr32SQPwiqr2mllmdHzoodRMWN4UbLjPQD8LEsKdN278M7HdnzAqkFN7ihxkniqLj1MsFIXezJxmjaNcVAMxtxTQX8TUyymQ3OWi7lWcdEEcRBFJ2c0xivCb-I73vN0FT6Am195ED6B6i_Dkv1ms1MtCYvjjO7-z1aYGe9w/w300-h400/IMG_3710.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The "living painting" below is a fragment of a wall-size installation, here caught in a fragment resembling a classic landscape with green forest, a red-yellow hill turning colors in the fall, and turbulent sky. The magma above erupted from a two-tone semi-landscape "living paintings" with green-brown shapes at the bottom and various hues of blue and white on the top. It shifted into an ocean first, then exploded, in slow motion... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A fragment of the flowing magma motion of colors and shapes: <span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #065fd4; font-size: 15px; white-space: nowrap;">https://youtu.be/bcVp-wxd59U</span></div><div><span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="color: #065fd4;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="color: #065fd4;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b>On the Art of Buying Art</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's no room for Amadol's Living Paintings</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">in my old house, with shelves full of teacups, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">angels, and crystal balls. Gold-framed photographs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of kids and roses would not fit in with the insanity</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of imaginary landscapes, bursting into flames, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">wild magma flows, crashing and erupting, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">storms of blue, azure, and sapphire rectangles</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">falling in an avalanche like snow.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd like to win a lottery and buy a mansion</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">in Malibu, overlooking the ocean, with huge windows,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">chrome and glass, ultra-modern chairs and tables,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">sparse furnishing among pristine white walls, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">waiting for the burst of color from Amadol's lava flows,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">bursting in vivid hues - straight from the souks of Istanbul</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">full of intoxicating magic of silk scarves and jewels </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">set in sparking gold admired, while steaming honey-hued tea </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">flows through the air in an acrobatic display, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">not burning the hand holding a tiny cup, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">painted with phantasm flowers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd live where I am so happy, in my garden of birdsong</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">orange blossoms and roses, but I'd visit the mansion to admire</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the other nature, filtered through the artist's imagination</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">with assistance of the machine. Not AI, not intelligent, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">the soul-less machine was an efficient tool in the hands</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of its owner, a magnificent, imaginative creator, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">evoking the genesis of planets, the evolution </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of electromagnetic cosmos on the broad expanse </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">of his electronic canvas. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQrZWikKjrRdh8kxWLhauv9RjBQUO7aBDX-_6Gza0pCZEf2EhNWv-p0CvA6ora7r2F3b8zBTDSBln5gh1xa2wblJkYO84LDtyuTxL1pRC1Qhg0827CYcKl82mQXum8shm5U-7r5VvpF5pwrpPIEnOukTIB8EldDPr3ie9f0BhgYK5fVCfSH6Xs90f/s4032/IMG_3621.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQrZWikKjrRdh8kxWLhauv9RjBQUO7aBDX-_6Gza0pCZEf2EhNWv-p0CvA6ora7r2F3b8zBTDSBln5gh1xa2wblJkYO84LDtyuTxL1pRC1Qhg0827CYcKl82mQXum8shm5U-7r5VvpF5pwrpPIEnOukTIB8EldDPr3ie9f0BhgYK5fVCfSH6Xs90f/w400-h300/IMG_3621.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5FbeK60L56A" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Fragment of Julius Eastman's Buddha at the gallery: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/5FbeK60L56A" id="share-url" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/5FbeK60L56A</a></p><p></p><p></p><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>My first visit to the gallery and surprise exposure to Rafik Amadol's Living Paintings took place during a special concert by Monday Evening Concerts, pairing the shifting and evolving landscapes, magmas and waves of the Living Paintings with processual music of American minimalists, like Alvin Lucier and Steve Reich. Americans seem to avoid minimalism of spiritual content these days, such as works by Aarvo Part, Henryk Mikolaj Gorecki or John Tavener. Instead, the music played at the concert was surface only, pattern only, without a deeper meaning. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some of Reich's pieces were fantastic, others unbearable (who can stand the shrieking noise of several glockenspiel played in their highest register, quite loudly?). For that part of the concert I escaped to the second room, to watch the evolving masses of color magma created by Amadol with the tool of a machine from patterns of humidity, temperature and wind speed in California. Fascinating. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFw4Yv8Z__Xd6udGtNiBRVrVfQXht3OUEbBR-KeLvif3d0lBgADrBnsaD9M4rAHLaLb5fR2y_PUHuTuvKAVGoDOniCd6PcGi4LCBF-Y5cQ24c2BmrRBDt0T-PfZ__YOXLqs6W-yfa3d09LFsZO2ZjQ9bH-8tUtCRlb-BjbKtKyJw4Elx5dCJTSQW82/s4032/IMG_3624.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFw4Yv8Z__Xd6udGtNiBRVrVfQXht3OUEbBR-KeLvif3d0lBgADrBnsaD9M4rAHLaLb5fR2y_PUHuTuvKAVGoDOniCd6PcGi4LCBF-Y5cQ24c2BmrRBDt0T-PfZ__YOXLqs6W-yfa3d09LFsZO2ZjQ9bH-8tUtCRlb-BjbKtKyJw4Elx5dCJTSQW82/w400-h300/IMG_3624.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>These shifting images welcomed me during the first work on the program, played by a lone percussionist, outlined against the intense hues of waves of tiny spheres in constant motion forming these huge patterns, like particles of air form winds and clouds. Sparse strikes of the Turkish gong resonated, along with more subdued tones of the marimba. The slowness of music slowed down the perception of time so the visual patterns could be appreciated more intensely. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aJj556KCHE1rYYRWLfw1DSaFhOVlqQRfGCulMOtGV6jz5tlpNUHnJVd9AfPoLmO2FdjEg_wMVuvUN50T46pEpqL8jyMDOnrCxn-3y1F6e9DaJ8s7jSaJzYcixH4o4hCQkFDG-qsDNRL8uXq-KgmzcUoxNZIfYeoFZVyK_kzpd3nmQR00PIDCM85G/s4032/IMG_3754.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aJj556KCHE1rYYRWLfw1DSaFhOVlqQRfGCulMOtGV6jz5tlpNUHnJVd9AfPoLmO2FdjEg_wMVuvUN50T46pEpqL8jyMDOnrCxn-3y1F6e9DaJ8s7jSaJzYcixH4o4hCQkFDG-qsDNRL8uXq-KgmzcUoxNZIfYeoFZVyK_kzpd3nmQR00PIDCM85G/w400-h300/IMG_3754.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3VzeD7UomAwfGkhs8XJ7fA1vXDx_09W7Uc2VWfOkSyDmq-YOJ4oMJBoC2NPhNSIZ9gdaHUIMrDNBZzpJb2EcA6O2crFMxwFwA8eXr0xiBfqmdVLC3RA5xCs91QrB7oifSl2qdNPBxxHiHl5bPWimjQMnjrdokHNVWy6cS2Wfg07JNSkLfPiT4JVS/s4032/IMG_3747.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA3VzeD7UomAwfGkhs8XJ7fA1vXDx_09W7Uc2VWfOkSyDmq-YOJ4oMJBoC2NPhNSIZ9gdaHUIMrDNBZzpJb2EcA6O2crFMxwFwA8eXr0xiBfqmdVLC3RA5xCs91QrB7oifSl2qdNPBxxHiHl5bPWimjQMnjrdokHNVWy6cS2Wfg07JNSkLfPiT4JVS/w400-h300/IMG_3747.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-hC6BvL1m2uNGIJ5yf2T5FikGY9VBCoGnzm5u5QGPQlmR_BVe0OtSGCDUDlipDzdOtgSAYEiwriHLoDhNH88SLKMBZetdZJLQ7tr6AXHDB5RVUoWZagKVahwuT9zZOeLbT44RTQ-GnEBRTtx5b-XiqVYqvcgA8wtM0D1hwF_yX99Wlbxjse4W4F/s4032/IMG_3707.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-hC6BvL1m2uNGIJ5yf2T5FikGY9VBCoGnzm5u5QGPQlmR_BVe0OtSGCDUDlipDzdOtgSAYEiwriHLoDhNH88SLKMBZetdZJLQ7tr6AXHDB5RVUoWZagKVahwuT9zZOeLbT44RTQ-GnEBRTtx5b-XiqVYqvcgA8wtM0D1hwF_yX99Wlbxjse4W4F/w400-h300/IMG_3707.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-17997503681191913702023-02-01T16:17:00.005-08:002023-02-03T17:17:37.969-08:00So Nice to Be Thanked - Village Poets, State Senator Portantino, CSPS...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqqnTaQeirhZLCbX-OYwTlOqgJ5X_3h0qY59xKTuY27phZrdoZUaRuXef5HqhzXGG5vYWhUc3FoPqg91-xQ6U2JpX1qDKzN1Q1xjJP7hMf8mcG7OL2bQbmZe2tA0KRm3ycAdY6BI6s8MFbeOBA_8NS7Ae0vjviQ9X0bRVcggEZom4KoyrFWvEhTZa/s4032/image0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqqnTaQeirhZLCbX-OYwTlOqgJ5X_3h0qY59xKTuY27phZrdoZUaRuXef5HqhzXGG5vYWhUc3FoPqg91-xQ6U2JpX1qDKzN1Q1xjJP7hMf8mcG7OL2bQbmZe2tA0KRm3ycAdY6BI6s8MFbeOBA_8NS7Ae0vjviQ9X0bRVcggEZom4KoyrFWvEhTZa/w400-h300/image0.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Senator Portantino, Maja Trochimczyk, Sharmagne Leland St. John and William Scott Galasso</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">January 29, 2023, Bolton Hall Museum. Photo by Declan Floyd.</span></i></div><br />After 12 years of service to the Village Poets of Sunland Tujunga, organizing the group's Monthly Poetry Readings at Bolton Hall and on Zoom, publishing anthologies, managing the website and the blog, inviting poets and artists, and preparing the annual Independence Day Parade, it is time to call it quits. I have another organization to manage now, California State Poetry Society that I have been the President of since 2019. I also serve as the Managing Editor of the <i>California Quarterly, </i>editor of the<i> CSPS Poetry Letter </i>appearing quarterly in PDF and online formats, and Chair of the Annual Poetry Contests. Plenty to do in the poetry world! <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqB6wNsc1jzb5eyBvN9uaoHJKGxSlQafaXdS8ATmEOB_7E5EbKht6KGgydFhHW7S_NB_Q8kR6U2CwLRVzGhYjqDtyc9cjYmfG1vqjSkh0VuHsXkNOfd187LeeL_5cfdzab5C8lLeWI6IH_L-aGFd5kH65YMktuFrJwIakhEjBNk_JEqyYqcuL__Sf/s2016/crowd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="2016" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqqB6wNsc1jzb5eyBvN9uaoHJKGxSlQafaXdS8ATmEOB_7E5EbKht6KGgydFhHW7S_NB_Q8kR6U2CwLRVzGhYjqDtyc9cjYmfG1vqjSkh0VuHsXkNOfd187LeeL_5cfdzab5C8lLeWI6IH_L-aGFd5kH65YMktuFrJwIakhEjBNk_JEqyYqcuL__Sf/w400-h195/crowd.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>My last event was the Monthly Reading at Bolton Hall Museum in Tujunga, held on January 29, 2023, with two amazing Featured Poets, Sharmagne Leland St. John and William Scott Galasso. State Senator Anthony Portantino came in person to distribute his Certificates of Appreciation for the two features and my volunteer work, and to read two of his poems, filled with alliteration and wit, present already in their titles: "From Lummis to Hummus." It is always great to have a politician who cares for the arts and supports artistic endeavors, so all poets cherish the talents and support of Senator Portantino. So lovely! And, alas, so rare... </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DMAaDQu2RrMbJvHTEa2T6703ApFcr6-LQuj5EQTg1R4LOoJUCDuN6ccMJ8r2IN9lZkmqcLNJiCIgc8FWoH0EwzZWgtnLTX5Dl25puAu7HUVYte37k8n55IGLb26x9ZKfwmhGZBTJAQjVmdrOJYkVxhZdljL_GaY_cv41mXCchPQIAlzHj8M9oalS/s4032/IMG_2649.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DMAaDQu2RrMbJvHTEa2T6703ApFcr6-LQuj5EQTg1R4LOoJUCDuN6ccMJ8r2IN9lZkmqcLNJiCIgc8FWoH0EwzZWgtnLTX5Dl25puAu7HUVYte37k8n55IGLb26x9ZKfwmhGZBTJAQjVmdrOJYkVxhZdljL_GaY_cv41mXCchPQIAlzHj8M9oalS/w300-h400/IMG_2649.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The Senator and his Field Representative Declan Floyd were kind enough to write a lovely and long congratulations message:<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRq7Fn0umQWhPOQz4QgG6FtDP08z7QUOSEFRNlNhnH_mOIxFOFD3K-z4pJdmxA8TO3l65achdfpnL0WO5NpdljiNzQiiEKNo4aB0NgZHiAS6dU0u2EyZl5KrykmfnZxyObOKsBJ6ui6WTl-ObAOzc8UotpftxvM_AeBD-O6AH7AXSJjopGMlDXcsg/s4032/IMG_2648.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRq7Fn0umQWhPOQz4QgG6FtDP08z7QUOSEFRNlNhnH_mOIxFOFD3K-z4pJdmxA8TO3l65achdfpnL0WO5NpdljiNzQiiEKNo4aB0NgZHiAS6dU0u2EyZl5KrykmfnZxyObOKsBJ6ui6WTl-ObAOzc8UotpftxvM_AeBD-O6AH7AXSJjopGMlDXcsg/w400-h300/IMG_2648.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>The Senator wrote: "On behalf of the California State Senate, I join the Sunland-Tujunga community in thanking you for your tremendous contributions to the literary arts in the 25th District over more than a decade. Your works in writing, editing and sharing poetry have inspired a new generation of Village Poets. I commend you for your commitment to sharing ideas and building community bonds through the beauty of language. Best wishes on all your future endeavors!" </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WxOcyDa8tGnnuCLnC0XCIG-JyJSNEjcdJhrtltZpRvoCERM85IBtrU9I8LcSfg-FTSI1DeQ6Zx5L_dEPxODfiRoRoRjRDIb-Yuj7iGUa0BMXu_yFU89iuh5huEzW6vcPAhcE9ZwRVMkQGnPHKoDhjZ-lbvswmU8CqhYFYVOYj1IDY3mvYjv4VuF4/s3000/majaSenator2023-page-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="2580" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8WxOcyDa8tGnnuCLnC0XCIG-JyJSNEjcdJhrtltZpRvoCERM85IBtrU9I8LcSfg-FTSI1DeQ6Zx5L_dEPxODfiRoRoRjRDIb-Yuj7iGUa0BMXu_yFU89iuh5huEzW6vcPAhcE9ZwRVMkQGnPHKoDhjZ-lbvswmU8CqhYFYVOYj1IDY3mvYjv4VuF4/w344-h400/majaSenator2023-page-001.jpg" width="344" /></a></div><p>At the reading, while serving as the MC, I read two of my own poems, "Moving to California" haibun that recently appeared in the <i>Red Paper Parasols,</i> an anthology of Southern California Study Group that I helped publish (cover design and layout). The second poem was "Gifts" from my <i>Bright Skies</i> book of 2022. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoS1NVX0ExOYT_mEi-r52jw5uz-rBkRZLm7PVLmYAbX6V-r3pFLW5xpIEP1q_V2Upgeurq2_jwzpeP31rploel_goBe_BuLkw8AB-n2Bru5xzrvJ81x1_eah0_ZhzaSWVxP-g26OE0sxLY5zQ-2w4XNaaaxpMSI5DB78_Ih0bSH5e4583HQr8F9CU/s5100/Parasols%20Umbrella%20Cover12Vfont-page-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5100" data-original-width="3300" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipoS1NVX0ExOYT_mEi-r52jw5uz-rBkRZLm7PVLmYAbX6V-r3pFLW5xpIEP1q_V2Upgeurq2_jwzpeP31rploel_goBe_BuLkw8AB-n2Bru5xzrvJ81x1_eah0_ZhzaSWVxP-g26OE0sxLY5zQ-2w4XNaaaxpMSI5DB78_Ih0bSH5e4583HQr8F9CU/w259-h400/Parasols%20Umbrella%20Cover12Vfont-page-001.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I made the cover and layouts for the Southern California Haiku Study Group Anthology for 2022, featuring the lovely photo taken by Maher McArthur in Japan. Since Deborah P Kolodji agreed to edit the <i>California Quarterly </i>Vol. 48, No. 4 for me, I decided to help her out when my assistance was requested. I also have some haiku and one haibun published in that volume. It was a real pleasure to work with Marcyn Clements, the editor of the haibun section, on making sure that my haibun describing my travel from Poland to California, and from imitations and artifice to reality of life. She encouraged me to add onomatophoeia and specific bird names to make the text more lively. What was most important was the last line in the haiku unchanged through these transformation, "a feather-light heart" - an image from the Egyptian Book of the Dead, where the heart is weighted against a feather to see if the person deserved spiritual awards in the afterlife... </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt;">Moving to California</span></b></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Long ago, in a gray
cement apartment block in Warsaw, Poland, I collected painted birds, carved in
wood by local folk artists. </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Then, I crossed the
ocean with my wooden flock. In Montreal, birds came alive, as I watched
red-winged blackbirds singing away on telephone lines outside my 3rd story
window. </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> Ca-roooouge</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> - they called out their French
name, </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Carouge à épaulettes. </i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Now, in my California
garden, gold and ruby feathers sparkle in morning sunrays. Fierce hummingbirds
bravely guard their cups of sugar water. The mourning dove marks the hours with
the insistence of a cuckoo in an old Alpine clock - </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">You go! You -
whooo, who</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">. House finches teach their young to sing, but poor babies
cannot go past the first </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">ti- ti- ti.</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> Western bluebirds fill
the air with breathless chatter: </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Do you know? Do you know? Yes, yes,
yes. We are here, here, here</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">. Shifting phrases of birdsong
announce visitors. </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ca-rooouge, Ca-rooouge -</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> the
winter blackbirds that followed me from Montreal, went home for the
summer. A brilliant yellow oriole nibbles on green grapes under the
pristine azure dome of the sky.</span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">the flutter of wings</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">interrupts my thoughts –</span></i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">a feather-light heart</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: left;"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UwcuYkE1e7mhqtrG4giHH62ZfJoR-A3bGZvGuYE6zwHcyXSwBCunMktX9W9-RT3Q3DjJmLreqIt716exu_p2VPWO3i29qR2HSAeYPYzIvLDQggGwOvOWq-c6O2sfZuZKTxoQAEyhvYEb5CjXTkuSHIfVh34RGzbUmq2Qr2tlN-cpViClRwTAX0u1/s4500/Bright%20Skies%20Cover%20Vine%20Front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4500" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0UwcuYkE1e7mhqtrG4giHH62ZfJoR-A3bGZvGuYE6zwHcyXSwBCunMktX9W9-RT3Q3DjJmLreqIt716exu_p2VPWO3i29qR2HSAeYPYzIvLDQggGwOvOWq-c6O2sfZuZKTxoQAEyhvYEb5CjXTkuSHIfVh34RGzbUmq2Qr2tlN-cpViClRwTAX0u1/w266-h400/Bright%20Skies%20Cover%20Vine%20Front.jpg" width="266" /></a></i></div><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></i><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> Bright Skies. Selected Poems </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">is a book of poems written and collected for my two grand-daughters when they grow up, Juniper and Aurelia, both born in September 2021, four days apart. Michael Escoubas recently wrote a very lovely review of this book for Quill and Parchment (February 2023), and I'm grateful for his kindness and praise, and also grateful that he picked one of my favorite poems from the book to include in the review. It was not published yet, when I read it on Sunday, as my poetic "Swan song" for Village Poets activities.</span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">Gifts</span></b></p></blockquote><i><br /></i><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i> …the necklace of songs, that you take as a gift</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"> ~ Rabindranath Tagore</blockquote></blockquote><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">I gather sunlight<br />in my palms<br />to save for later<br />when it’s dark outside<br />and hope seems lost.</blockquote><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">My hands are full<br />of brightness.<br /> I gingerly carry<br />the tangle of sunrays<br />in a procession of gifts,<br />down the aisle.<div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">I
gather sunlight</span></p></div></blockquote><div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">to
keep close</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">to
my heart,</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">and
warm us</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">through
cold</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">winter
nights</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">with
a rich glow</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">of
sunfire.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67FV28LMqGfNR3NSKLah0PziDMyYqKYSfvrRv6Ecs-zc2Ub0zbK3M_vwSxx8hCmuA4AySVSi3cxzvGc-V-1TkFRi3bC5tjCX2slVJiXHkR1owZAuZB2rfoJ9MPfcGtBEOEO-8MkNokeBuuCK3TRNEweWn6aDzz-ZUQP8KZ4cQ9EoIMn4lM2YBJ3Xc/s968/Bright%20Spring1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="968" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh67FV28LMqGfNR3NSKLah0PziDMyYqKYSfvrRv6Ecs-zc2Ub0zbK3M_vwSxx8hCmuA4AySVSi3cxzvGc-V-1TkFRi3bC5tjCX2slVJiXHkR1owZAuZB2rfoJ9MPfcGtBEOEO-8MkNokeBuuCK3TRNEweWn6aDzz-ZUQP8KZ4cQ9EoIMn4lM2YBJ3Xc/w400-h300/Bright%20Spring1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">At the end of the reading, I was surprised with thanks from other Village Poets. Joe DeCenzo presented a certificate of appreciation from Congressman Adam Schiff, and listed my achievements, that included inviting, scheduling and promoting on the blog events over 12 years with 144 poets and artists, creating and hosting the Zoom event series for the 2.5 years of the pandemic (that as Joe said saved the Village Poets from falling apart), decorating the Poets' Convertible for at least 10 Independence Day Parades, and more. He did not forget to mention that the idea of group photos at the end of each reading was also mine and that getting poets to pose for these was like herding cats...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYAnJY-X8exaaaWU3imC7Z905ZNYDSPQVWUevb4fy5w7Ahk2b52BA4eKTv0EWM--PwPic1tXUrmnI2ULdHKdM3DhvrveCBe9Y27nSWYzTWLRqm3Gsu559XDQloq84-lZjSRbJIC4W8kntYqcMxRyyass8NGLJIa1JFh77Anpgc4E_dO4N7_rAO-o1/s829/JoeMaja.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="829" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYAnJY-X8exaaaWU3imC7Z905ZNYDSPQVWUevb4fy5w7Ahk2b52BA4eKTv0EWM--PwPic1tXUrmnI2ULdHKdM3DhvrveCBe9Y27nSWYzTWLRqm3Gsu559XDQloq84-lZjSRbJIC4W8kntYqcMxRyyass8NGLJIa1JFh77Anpgc4E_dO4N7_rAO-o1/w400-h195/JoeMaja.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Of the featured poets who presented their work at our Monthly Readings since 2010, 82 authors submitted their work to <i>We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology</i> that I co-edited with Marlene Hitt in 2020, to celebrate 10 years of VP Monthly Readings. Joe did not forget other anthologies associated with Village Poets that I edited over the years: <i>Chopin with Cherries</i> (with work by Marlene Hitt), and <i>Meditations on Divine Name</i>s (with work of his, Elsa Frausto, Dorothy Skiles, and Marlene). Yes, it has been a pleasure publishing poems written by members of the Village Poets group and I hope to continue doing so in the future.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhD-A_9vl1l6mGUBjlSl8zhk2MuRuJ3__6NtATYhT3yUmseUhB1vRiLo2RxdESThT7ZUw1bll5MJJxCAT3kvSA_73rgPWxkNGAGe6FQ2LIRn8EuO6PoDFaG0yH5LlYHlMCjKWJc40zA-3xZOJLTXB_HcKmGugNKjVfVMAoug21kcC_eH2eerlr0s4/s500/VillagePoetsCover3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhD-A_9vl1l6mGUBjlSl8zhk2MuRuJ3__6NtATYhT3yUmseUhB1vRiLo2RxdESThT7ZUw1bll5MJJxCAT3kvSA_73rgPWxkNGAGe6FQ2LIRn8EuO6PoDFaG0yH5LlYHlMCjKWJc40zA-3xZOJLTXB_HcKmGugNKjVfVMAoug21kcC_eH2eerlr0s4/w266-h400/VillagePoetsCover3.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">In her presentation, Sunland-Tujunga Poet Laureate, Alice Pero, praised my most recent anthology, <i>Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom,</i> illustrated with beautiful paintings of Ambika Talwar and consisting of work by 12 talented poets who all wrote poems about the good things in life, things to be joyous about and thankful for. She decided to read one poem I wrote after a walk in the Big Tujunga Wash, that her garden overlooks and I see over the fences of my neighbors across the street. Being so close to such a gorgeous tract of wilderness and still being in Los Angeles is one of the delightful secrets of our City of Angels. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Alchemy in the Hills</span></b></div></div></blockquote><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Rarefied air opens up to reveal </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">rocks in the mountain stream,</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">scattered sparks of reflected sunrays, </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">shimmering golden waves of water </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">spreading in circles from where</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">I stand on thick grains of sand. I watch </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">a wild sunflower unfurl its petals.</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">I smile at the aerial acrobatics of sparrows, </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">orioles and the small yellow-gray</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">birds of unknown names. The scents</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> of white sage and sumac fill the valley, </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">ringing with the buzz of a myriad of </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">bees hovering about cotton-ball arrays </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">of wild buckwheat. It is not much,</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">but it is enough: rock, sand, and leaf enough.</div></div></blockquote><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Children’s laughter flows towards me </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">from another wading pool, upstream. </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">They splash and laugh, laugh and splash, </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">amused by every droplet. I rest in</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">the center of my universe, at a still point </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">of my turning world, where all elements—</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> air, rock, sand, water, sunfire—</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">merge into one blessing of being here, </div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">sharing this space, this time with</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">children’s laughter, with lily-white yucca</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> blossoms stretching to the sky,</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> and a single blade of grass guarding</div></div><div><div class="gmail_default" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">its spot between stones on the creek shore.</div></div></blockquote><p> </p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU7LEDiBnpesr5cBlZ_UbSBjgiy2W7aR6J4pbNvNRjKKaiMpKi9Yq5SeGiqh5Av94dnbgv5GzOnfM4YwWhL-FggfK8BOa-yIaDVCIDjxvwzUZPRsKO1socVTK6xEEAmh3z9K-ejYigf1W-PgNijsi8RE0JCL0OSeYsRWQ6l4cxnNnYmG0EvH5g7-R/s2016/IMG_2675.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU7LEDiBnpesr5cBlZ_UbSBjgiy2W7aR6J4pbNvNRjKKaiMpKi9Yq5SeGiqh5Av94dnbgv5GzOnfM4YwWhL-FggfK8BOa-yIaDVCIDjxvwzUZPRsKO1socVTK6xEEAmh3z9K-ejYigf1W-PgNijsi8RE0JCL0OSeYsRWQ6l4cxnNnYmG0EvH5g7-R/w300-h400/IMG_2675.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Huge bouquets of flowers followed, presented by Pamela Shea and Marlene Hitt, but I was most delighted with a special gift from Marlene Hitt, our founder and the moving force of poetry in the Foothills. She made a series of posters, using photographs of me reading poems since my "crowning" as Poet Laureate in 2010, of the anthology, and of the Village Poets readings. She also wrote a very touching tribute, which I am delighted to share:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVV-xVqZfQHicyD1KQaycxnaTSCtOTN_QtzfL0LRESjaY_JERzrD1fgyNjiqFsNpFnD2v_GW9JiEwIZVy7cbMVqnaU6YKD7WVIEniBIhnaVlLzLu9IQ2g_hiiP7GPPLJKJqA0Rj9DQM8STzZchx1uy76J_6FyRgejOXDDtCKQ9RmJEemQ0nRGTcyQ/s4032/IMG_2652.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnVV-xVqZfQHicyD1KQaycxnaTSCtOTN_QtzfL0LRESjaY_JERzrD1fgyNjiqFsNpFnD2v_GW9JiEwIZVy7cbMVqnaU6YKD7WVIEniBIhnaVlLzLu9IQ2g_hiiP7GPPLJKJqA0Rj9DQM8STzZchx1uy76J_6FyRgejOXDDtCKQ9RmJEemQ0nRGTcyQ/w400-h300/IMG_2652.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllTevcTR5lRJiUfNdVsWbrzuEwZf92xUDzmmtMCEi8n5vXvzSx0UgtYeGHFdVZlHifNonS5ausummxGHp3FLiTZSgrWtUqtk5ZuMExF2VAAUuMOqaLByvXQQg6apSKjW_e35HovClaiWhJNJzPLUaSLZze6ajmNzgsgPks0lNN7T4qwiulZx2YdF-/s4032/IMG_2653.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllTevcTR5lRJiUfNdVsWbrzuEwZf92xUDzmmtMCEi8n5vXvzSx0UgtYeGHFdVZlHifNonS5ausummxGHp3FLiTZSgrWtUqtk5ZuMExF2VAAUuMOqaLByvXQQg6apSKjW_e35HovClaiWhJNJzPLUaSLZze6ajmNzgsgPks0lNN7T4qwiulZx2YdF-/w400-h300/IMG_2653.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Marlene's set of "thank you, Maja" posters is so cute that I'm including their photos below. She also gave me a costume jewelry set of very gold hue, an inheritance from her mother. I'm sure I'll find a poetry event to wear these to.... These expressions of gratitude from someone who has done so much by herself, was the most touching. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGeqS1GQhDUr3avyumWBwQO60E_Mry1mrMabUty9o9DTLLK6ls7aJHmdRWa2CvvwfUrY3lVda22qKDwE0_2iAXXR-Mvl_WuET0BX_wLOiSYKgSWpgsgj43oeqUQidLkMBbWCkxx4y5x8d5e83dR-r67NXhQqeAR0XUERN6MYThK7iuFAXNrhhQaHWe/s4032/IMG_2660.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGeqS1GQhDUr3avyumWBwQO60E_Mry1mrMabUty9o9DTLLK6ls7aJHmdRWa2CvvwfUrY3lVda22qKDwE0_2iAXXR-Mvl_WuET0BX_wLOiSYKgSWpgsgj43oeqUQidLkMBbWCkxx4y5x8d5e83dR-r67NXhQqeAR0XUERN6MYThK7iuFAXNrhhQaHWe/w300-h400/IMG_2660.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Poets and Village Poets logo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i6yF-kBQ0KtZSosBV7ujGpZycWMsFhflvc4WuFeg7NvK9ZMgcDNY7L1WEGQ4QojwdWTdwckKSQlHDiOLGfrcAgDLvfvJ0_ewbwU0S_UrsUYxUC3NUa7uRjH0Z8tCKRQKc_tP13iRkiqv3FH_Yhx-70o7_mnH4VKnA_ho2HO2dj_WHfwRdHJk5k5h/s4032/IMG_2656.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i6yF-kBQ0KtZSosBV7ujGpZycWMsFhflvc4WuFeg7NvK9ZMgcDNY7L1WEGQ4QojwdWTdwckKSQlHDiOLGfrcAgDLvfvJ0_ewbwU0S_UrsUYxUC3NUa7uRjH0Z8tCKRQKc_tP13iRkiqv3FH_Yhx-70o7_mnH4VKnA_ho2HO2dj_WHfwRdHJk5k5h/s320/IMG_2656.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Presentation of Lifetime Achievement Award to Marlene and Lloyd Hitt, Dorothy Skiles in the back.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1_P3vStdEjY0NQ0sWcaaiHqdPfiM5a6E700QnZbrqdPECMLmUALL8_1h7iNSWEpf3Ppj4xjNqMZKCvuCqkeRw_tBAx2fB8_vTvr5ercyv6bXiR6BcXuRsCnh0sxNesRMHBH44m2O5ZFyM0ROQwB3AMhbA3Cu4tTkYe7T1yWyGLq7NbHwS7HbzDDR/s3024/IMG_2658.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1_P3vStdEjY0NQ0sWcaaiHqdPfiM5a6E700QnZbrqdPECMLmUALL8_1h7iNSWEpf3Ppj4xjNqMZKCvuCqkeRw_tBAx2fB8_vTvr5ercyv6bXiR6BcXuRsCnh0sxNesRMHBH44m2O5ZFyM0ROQwB3AMhbA3Cu4tTkYe7T1yWyGLq7NbHwS7HbzDDR/s320/IMG_2658.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Village Poets at the Passing of the Laurels ceremony for Pamela Shea</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDDVJLks1aPyTwok-Kxuti4TJURASQ-TbdPYJtmd3hfKkURAjYZsEeOZNZCIsOynxwSivTRuHMb6i3TqNwGFKP-6uY8pnCZEazpDt9m0Se_tYyvs8esIWV6dTeWTP7abS0XiizkoGF_MPuJbphzEEDkNN3XD3lSTRXvXRWGLMH54E_GFTt7Q-2831/s4032/IMG_2661.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlDDVJLks1aPyTwok-Kxuti4TJURASQ-TbdPYJtmd3hfKkURAjYZsEeOZNZCIsOynxwSivTRuHMb6i3TqNwGFKP-6uY8pnCZEazpDt9m0Se_tYyvs8esIWV6dTeWTP7abS0XiizkoGF_MPuJbphzEEDkNN3XD3lSTRXvXRWGLMH54E_GFTt7Q-2831/w300-h400/IMG_2661.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A postcard and an outfit at the Independence Day Parade in 2011</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZ7ZK-dyEHYBm1CbXsZjm5C9D5Gt3IhK2L3mRm9zbtZWiVygu-dUYdRvBGAl1Pwj8qGdqecXeSp-cx2ugmlPlqWbNdNoCnH2vTdgdHqIrfUZdTSrIpbnAk8kMF3hmujYKKJg5ndYPpk4LqasrvbxDdWSK1UUsIBut38603IEjvo7f-j5N0nFokqBl/s2016/IMG_2672.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZ7ZK-dyEHYBm1CbXsZjm5C9D5Gt3IhK2L3mRm9zbtZWiVygu-dUYdRvBGAl1Pwj8qGdqecXeSp-cx2ugmlPlqWbNdNoCnH2vTdgdHqIrfUZdTSrIpbnAk8kMF3hmujYKKJg5ndYPpk4LqasrvbxDdWSK1UUsIBut38603IEjvo7f-j5N0nFokqBl/w300-h400/IMG_2672.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">End of term as Poet Laureate in 2012 and a performance with musician for ST Neighborhood Council, Marlene added a photo of my granddaughter Juniper in holiday outfit looking at her Babcia...</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0yhpQ0Y672nFzY6zZpQEyoEGsdVuPsB9INO5NXojTBSrI7qgGmrJnoSFHhtgmqRwPwZHUo3gmvGx-mNsMrLHdRhFt7IlWZ0BCMsS8U0xrLKNGtZX_hJUPj7wHgZPue7gj_BAoYNCFD2-UAwpL0L2kyoiZcq79r751fFThuZibMGJtov_bTIyVM8mV/s2016/IMG_2673.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0yhpQ0Y672nFzY6zZpQEyoEGsdVuPsB9INO5NXojTBSrI7qgGmrJnoSFHhtgmqRwPwZHUo3gmvGx-mNsMrLHdRhFt7IlWZ0BCMsS8U0xrLKNGtZX_hJUPj7wHgZPue7gj_BAoYNCFD2-UAwpL0L2kyoiZcq79r751fFThuZibMGJtov_bTIyVM8mV/w300-h400/IMG_2673.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">More events- Independence Day Parades, and roses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXRt23WWzw3EwUSTQUhFLH30wADKcb57tooDegWhdB2meOLV19AF_R3Kle_yqMUiHW_fmzGomtARtVoLK_mW0tzWAkxnrOckUdb1nE4uf37bsNw0s7DWqiRWe6lhm0wBpnvuHRCdcS4n1SdW3Gm0_R4BS-ZLidcAM9HETs_MxHmMYEgiTqRmuMvp9/s4032/IMG_2663.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXRt23WWzw3EwUSTQUhFLH30wADKcb57tooDegWhdB2meOLV19AF_R3Kle_yqMUiHW_fmzGomtARtVoLK_mW0tzWAkxnrOckUdb1nE4uf37bsNw0s7DWqiRWe6lhm0wBpnvuHRCdcS4n1SdW3Gm0_R4BS-ZLidcAM9HETs_MxHmMYEgiTqRmuMvp9/w300-h400/IMG_2663.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With Cile Borman and Village Poets Anthology and with Joe DeCenzo at the Passing of the Laurels ceremony of 2010.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfiec-JnUJqE7QEb1ULqHM2d57TT4_LTtCm_dcEgpfg6BwZ33tLqOJHWTgVD_eOKfQMiXcDgqVBNMTguTfNszl3Oa7vecvYBiQ1oOTevgWE6nxq-Ozk_BZkXW8xEFt_WLS3I945vXx-MrmQtrOMC-R-dsIeY5TFARBEA8VpFd6pwVNq2l5eHHhzPm/s4032/IMG_2665.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfiec-JnUJqE7QEb1ULqHM2d57TT4_LTtCm_dcEgpfg6BwZ33tLqOJHWTgVD_eOKfQMiXcDgqVBNMTguTfNszl3Oa7vecvYBiQ1oOTevgWE6nxq-Ozk_BZkXW8xEFt_WLS3I945vXx-MrmQtrOMC-R-dsIeY5TFARBEA8VpFd6pwVNq2l5eHHhzPm/w300-h400/IMG_2665.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A collage of Village Poets events collected and assembled by Marlene</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qW03EzG9wmczNMDR4fX5Hea9q6n00bAcDHsuKS6mqXY6jkt6gSSmeqz7ADc8uC4_-FoNzXtWrcb_3Pd2oBZ80Hp2xCZQNii-cFEeZl2L07l4a9GU_G0Zf65AMUUr2_aEslfN2-gcevSW_ecwesbjzJLV4ioHrnFUIA-O8UKy4fhKEL8tBuWfsSDp/s3024/IMG_2666.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qW03EzG9wmczNMDR4fX5Hea9q6n00bAcDHsuKS6mqXY6jkt6gSSmeqz7ADc8uC4_-FoNzXtWrcb_3Pd2oBZ80Hp2xCZQNii-cFEeZl2L07l4a9GU_G0Zf65AMUUr2_aEslfN2-gcevSW_ecwesbjzJLV4ioHrnFUIA-O8UKy4fhKEL8tBuWfsSDp/w400-h400/IMG_2666.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">More Village Poets event photos assembled by Marlene Hitt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">So thank you Village Poets for the fun I had over the past 12 years, organizing over 120 readings, managing the Zoom events during the pandemic, and interacting with so many talented poets and artists. Thank you!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPEMGmIMFu43cJ1gdJdNN4XScDcgT_6jCICUC_MRhIL5uIlpIvOqAGbch4rhVPvO2kv00mYXbfwFphgg-GFGwmIZn0I34DqAWjKZBuC716aFPNFxRZY1PT1IEYviSm4wSu37U0cQpmo7hPppgIeUMD0vTy17Ej0ViZjELAixtsFmx06MqKTlQ8hjY/s4032/IMG_8011.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPEMGmIMFu43cJ1gdJdNN4XScDcgT_6jCICUC_MRhIL5uIlpIvOqAGbch4rhVPvO2kv00mYXbfwFphgg-GFGwmIZn0I34DqAWjKZBuC716aFPNFxRZY1PT1IEYviSm4wSu37U0cQpmo7hPppgIeUMD0vTy17Ej0ViZjELAixtsFmx06MqKTlQ8hjY/w400-h300/IMG_8011.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Poets at the end of the Village Poets Reading on January 29, 2023, Bolton Hall Museum</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>OTHER THINGS TO BE GRATEFUL FOR</b></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It is nice to be appreciated - I have had quite a nice collection of kind words recently. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">My Christmas mail included two very nice cards from my Board members at California State Poetry Society. Maura Harvey (Editor of the California Quarterly) wrote: "Really appreciate your terrific organizational skills, perseverance, and loyalty. CSPS is so fortunate to have you, Maja as prez!" Richard and Susan Deets (Richard is Vice President for Membership): "Thank you for the wonderful job you are doing as President of CSPS. We look forward to many exciting years to come under your leadership." I will have more time for CSPS, its California Quarterly and its Poetry Letter, as well as for publishing books and working on research papers on music history, my original avocation, neglected when I had dedicated so much time to local poetry scene. I already left Poets on Site, Westside Women Writers and now Village Poets groups. The day has 24 hours and there is never enough time to do everything one wants to do. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmnHf6GDsHbGGPUBeFw8RlL6oj0hGlcl1MNlNMOwg2CnbcAwD-mAZ1nfEYqJwOeux0L9eFPxUf7ul102XxabWsPZI57xy5V8edylwaXrJ0W9S9asu1TowQ-ikG3GTVtOhP-MVcBDMQIxW1J4qIdBBoSSJtDdta8yKMfl3MsWqcGj1cO9AT2-kelIVF/s4032/IMG_2629.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmnHf6GDsHbGGPUBeFw8RlL6oj0hGlcl1MNlNMOwg2CnbcAwD-mAZ1nfEYqJwOeux0L9eFPxUf7ul102XxabWsPZI57xy5V8edylwaXrJ0W9S9asu1TowQ-ikG3GTVtOhP-MVcBDMQIxW1J4qIdBBoSSJtDdta8yKMfl3MsWqcGj1cO9AT2-kelIVF/w400-h300/IMG_2629.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bouquet of white, red and yellow roses from Pam Shea.</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I had an extraordinarily busy year with multiple publications and projects. First, I decided to collect my positive poetry and assembled a volume of 85 poems illustrated with 160 photographs of nature entitled "Bright Skies. Selected Poems." The collection was praised in reviews by Marlene Hitt, and William Scott Galasso. <a href="https://moonrisepress.com/bright-skies--trochimczyk.html">https://moonrisepress.com/bright-skies--trochimczyk.html</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2022/08/maja-trochimczyks-new-book-bright-skies.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2022/08/maja-trochimczyks-new-book-bright-skies.html</span></a></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4eDG8xXo54ZAhtN1KLI5tI7qJjlxBQnPFC9tjVDI00sS8VvqeUxXDgF-PPIqxekBYHuhdZ9M9hh9gqTQGcDKPKyBerwqS4GbLTYpef5LXpy9lWaGobVrfwnqObW4e4wQDsJYempWTBiDrg2JrJ-Bxlxb_xirwKXWcskshFIRUUHA5YQty_c8FNjcSg/s4032/20221120_155801.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw4eDG8xXo54ZAhtN1KLI5tI7qJjlxBQnPFC9tjVDI00sS8VvqeUxXDgF-PPIqxekBYHuhdZ9M9hh9gqTQGcDKPKyBerwqS4GbLTYpef5LXpy9lWaGobVrfwnqObW4e4wQDsJYempWTBiDrg2JrJ-Bxlxb_xirwKXWcskshFIRUUHA5YQty_c8FNjcSg/w640-h312/20221120_155801.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Joe DeCenzo, Elzbieta Czajkowska, Susan Dobay, Maja Trochimczyk and Bory Thach at the closing of the Sky Garden exhibition, reading from Crystal Fire anthology, November 20, 2022. Paintings by Ambika Talwar in the background. </span></div><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUA5Kys9RTcn-IXpm4t8lSUy0IHGPLcpGDwfRGTx7B9d1U4E0_v6-ld5PNabYlVZ0-JcCdVjspFqIX9tvvbE34zQ2ohsRnsY-sjaqeLAQdtUxF3D_56A6mWZXtnBH7K2CbCWnrd2pm75lc118sHOWQ4ID2MXs8LFViC8JrtPJoPw4QvzldPPoF_S5yA/s4032/IMG_1423.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUA5Kys9RTcn-IXpm4t8lSUy0IHGPLcpGDwfRGTx7B9d1U4E0_v6-ld5PNabYlVZ0-JcCdVjspFqIX9tvvbE34zQ2ohsRnsY-sjaqeLAQdtUxF3D_56A6mWZXtnBH7K2CbCWnrd2pm75lc118sHOWQ4ID2MXs8LFViC8JrtPJoPw4QvzldPPoF_S5yA/w400-h300/IMG_1423.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Second, I selected 12 poets to contribute to a new anthology of positive poetry entitled "Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom" and including 144 poems by 12 poets: Elzbieta Czajkowska, Joe DeCenzo, Mary Elliott, Jeff Graham, Marlene Hitt, Frederick Livingston, Alice Pero, Allegra Silberstein, Jane Stuart, Ambika Talwar, Bory Thach, and my own. The spectacular cover art and paintings to start each section are by poet Ambika Talwar, a talented painter and poet.</span></p><p><a href="https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html</span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pgl66Xk8-Qwtspow4LWUGLUSBueIbY_NtbxBP95a2t-k4kua13y6PidQnX2B3a3x8dNtRTb-QU9plwBSxCOQZsfHTEYb_cP0e4pzmnn6elOJGFHmsILNnnoO-Of_yaO-I0sZ1KOXmuo7s0Fi4NxqCgbsYqtjixX-jmhRVMUKPi7HO1nqxD8uB82EaQ/s2100/SkyGardenPostcardClosing-page-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2100" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pgl66Xk8-Qwtspow4LWUGLUSBueIbY_NtbxBP95a2t-k4kua13y6PidQnX2B3a3x8dNtRTb-QU9plwBSxCOQZsfHTEYb_cP0e4pzmnn6elOJGFHmsILNnnoO-Of_yaO-I0sZ1KOXmuo7s0Fi4NxqCgbsYqtjixX-jmhRVMUKPi7HO1nqxD8uB82EaQ/w400-h286/SkyGardenPostcardClosing-page-001.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Poet Bory Thach, included in the anthology and participating in the readings, shared the following comment about the book and readings: "I really appreciate everything that you do for the arts, especially how you strive to be fair and include everyone through well-deserved recognition. It's great to be surrounded by such positive poets with a wide variety of perspectives and insights that can be shown through their poetry. Being a writer I always try to learn something from every artist that I meet. The best part about our group is that I get to read amazing works by different authors, experience their views as well as fresh images and new ways of looking at the world. As a result, I have the privilege of gaining valuable knowledge and wisdom. All because I encountered so many poetic pieces as your editor. I'm just grateful to be able to take away at least one thing every time I open a book. It is like a step closer to enlightenment!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Thank you, Bory! It is always good to be appreciated. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2A7d4wwtSHu-x_uD_P3CWiPy3KYP4Onc8c8UC6dMx09YDNjefEEWg3D-piYm1FDgjDxoaJ7svLdoJ0nOknRB6XoQdV5kN8DL6ibBYk71-p78S0JWRFH48ohyBvVgcl9eRSP6q7c03tBZBEbYS9_b78VuKrQLksZnAsLNometOFHu7xvuCWpZidJmg7A/s1944/majaOct16.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1701" data-original-width="1944" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2A7d4wwtSHu-x_uD_P3CWiPy3KYP4Onc8c8UC6dMx09YDNjefEEWg3D-piYm1FDgjDxoaJ7svLdoJ0nOknRB6XoQdV5kN8DL6ibBYk71-p78S0JWRFH48ohyBvVgcl9eRSP6q7c03tBZBEbYS9_b78VuKrQLksZnAsLNometOFHu7xvuCWpZidJmg7A/w400-h350/majaOct16.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">Reading from "Bright Skies" in front of Talwar's paintings and her photos </span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">at the opening of the Sky Garden Exhibition in October 2022.</span></i></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Third, Ambika's paintings from "Crystal Fire" and my photographs from <i>Bright Skies</i> gave rise to an exhibition entitled "Sky Garden" and held at the Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia in October and November 2022. The exhibition, curated by Susan Dobay, presented just 12 paintings and 12 photographs, but gave rise to a series of events, two poetry readings from the books, on October 16 and November 20, 2022. The exhibition was also visited by singer, guitarist and song-writer Piotr Kajetan Matczuk of Poland, who gave there a mini-concert. </span></p><p><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html</span></a></p><p><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html</span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnC7K1hKXA1JZraGev406N7cAuDNOLSbj33Hj0PtZm3pF9Rq-g82ScSxVzqKBSscQXWTa3TIZwPxSW5t5kygZDvMc3OIjEndQCqTJguiXOHWUKhb7Lwd7yQXjer9dl5EG2nCb2awaDSAuCmpz1Z11D_XHr46xw0FrZY3JRzpTkDRNngbOmwLpnLMKGQ/s4032/matczuk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnC7K1hKXA1JZraGev406N7cAuDNOLSbj33Hj0PtZm3pF9Rq-g82ScSxVzqKBSscQXWTa3TIZwPxSW5t5kygZDvMc3OIjEndQCqTJguiXOHWUKhb7Lwd7yQXjer9dl5EG2nCb2awaDSAuCmpz1Z11D_XHr46xw0FrZY3JRzpTkDRNngbOmwLpnLMKGQ/w400-h300/matczuk.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Maja Trochimczyk with Piotr Matczuk at Sky Garden Exhibition, 5 November 2022</span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Fourth, I was commissioned by the National Fryderyk Chopin Institute of Poland to write a scholarly article for publication in the <i>Studia Chopinowskie </i>research journal on the topic related to Maria Szymanowska (1789-1831), an eminent pianist and composer, and an important fore-runner of Chopin. I decided to write about the handwritten patriotic songbooks found in the archives of Museum Adama Mickiewicza in the Polish Library in Paris that were written by two of Szymanowska's children, her daughter Helena Malewska and son Romuald Szymanowski. I had earlier written on Szymanowska's patriotic songs in the collection of <i>Historical Chants (Spiewy Historyczne) </i>by Julian Ursyn Niemcewicz and had noticed these small notebooks while reviewing Szymanowska-related documents in the Polish Library in 2015. Since this paper is yet to be published, I will not discuss its content here, except to say it presents an important aspects of preserving Polish culture and traditions in the homes during the partitions and even in the heart of the Russian Empire. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJKgLKtvVIW_dv5h5J5-gnH4vuqBIJ6ns0r3_DSXfnT4RT8q1-cLgT-pnvBV0LzhrcaBqx6Fb3HLFxP1sMmYs1sfyCdEOetPk1FZoHRm2rnRyxV6gdLuOLF2Kf4PFGNZ4qBdg8Ucaw_fqb_Q-wJqvlwGAW_GJG8P5g30a5i_RjdctkjMlQpcMrrI7Gg/s3264/IMG_1236.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJKgLKtvVIW_dv5h5J5-gnH4vuqBIJ6ns0r3_DSXfnT4RT8q1-cLgT-pnvBV0LzhrcaBqx6Fb3HLFxP1sMmYs1sfyCdEOetPk1FZoHRm2rnRyxV6gdLuOLF2Kf4PFGNZ4qBdg8Ucaw_fqb_Q-wJqvlwGAW_GJG8P5g30a5i_RjdctkjMlQpcMrrI7Gg/w400-h300/IMG_1236.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Archival Materials related to Maria Szymanowska at the Polish Library in Paris</span></i></div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-59208210881099201472022-12-06T15:37:00.002-08:002022-12-06T15:37:14.277-08:0012 Poets in "Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom" edited by Maja Trochimczyk <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZPS3INviNASMN0WQa4P6e6zjkqTrGWVADfYg-AYt0WXraLIyQaNASxZ5V-EEPH7WntAFW2HdRWW_CaFSP12VAtkdD6ySZdqqBnATgCXUhxCIS-wAn8tGv_TArZwwT_eq7le8iTSKDCmKUkLjU7BxKwT24HRk2p45sqPnrsz0co6tPHXYLZMJ_x95/s2997/Crystal%20Fire%20Cover%20Front.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2997" data-original-width="2016" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZPS3INviNASMN0WQa4P6e6zjkqTrGWVADfYg-AYt0WXraLIyQaNASxZ5V-EEPH7WntAFW2HdRWW_CaFSP12VAtkdD6ySZdqqBnATgCXUhxCIS-wAn8tGv_TArZwwT_eq7le8iTSKDCmKUkLjU7BxKwT24HRk2p45sqPnrsz0co6tPHXYLZMJ_x95/w269-h400/Crystal%20Fire%20Cover%20Front.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Snap ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy & Wisdom</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ISBN 978-1-945938-57-3 (color hardcover)</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/pqqz9g" target="_blank"><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ISBN</span></b><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/pqqz9g" target="_blank">978-1-945938-58-0</a> (color </span></b><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">paperback)</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/ambika-talwar-and-maja-trochimczyk/crystal-fire-poems-of-joy-wisdom/ebook/product-qv9w7v.html" target="_blank"> </a></span></b><b><span lang="PL" style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/ambika-talwar-and-maja-trochimczyk/crystal-fire-poems-of-joy-wisdom/ebook/product-qv9w7v.html" target="_blank">ISBN 978-1-945938-59-7</a> (eBook) </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html" style="text-align: left;">https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html</a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It has been a real pleasure and a joy to gather poems, edit the anthology, and organize events to promote this collection of positive poetry in our chaotic times. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Illustrated with paintings by Ambika Talwar, the “Crystal Fire” anthology gathers poems of joy and wisdom by 12 poets, 8 women and 4 men: Elżbieta Czajkowska, Joe DeCenzo, Mary Elliott, Jeff Graham, Marlene Hitt, Frederick Livingston, Alice Pero, Allegra Silberstein, Jane Stuart, Ambika Talwar, Bory Thach, and Maja Trochimczyk. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The poets span all ages and diverse life experiences. They include émigrés from Poland, Cambodia, and India, and those born in the U.S. College professors join community poets. Native speakers appear alongside those for whom English is the second, or even the third language. The ”joy and wisdom” they write about are also different, as each poet follows their own path and gathers unique reflections to share with their readers. The spectacular cover art and paintings to start each section are by poet Ambika Talwar, a talented painter and poet.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dnBE2c-UL1lqiT7Bpqr4ZEAWyYN70cU5jl0VKpzqtK_fdJ920J56JxJGuXI7fotGwIuDQpseOi86tjH27DB5-gBkRdGa1rKt67mszpHu0R9JI5A3IXgWutzS9C00YaLIRae4czrmog-KKSuGCrl_OSUjyMxuEdlkWES_JH2YGAIRybjYt1Gmbs6L/s2808/grupaoct16.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2808" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dnBE2c-UL1lqiT7Bpqr4ZEAWyYN70cU5jl0VKpzqtK_fdJ920J56JxJGuXI7fotGwIuDQpseOi86tjH27DB5-gBkRdGa1rKt67mszpHu0R9JI5A3IXgWutzS9C00YaLIRae4czrmog-KKSuGCrl_OSUjyMxuEdlkWES_JH2YGAIRybjYt1Gmbs6L/w400-h278/grupaoct16.png" width="400" /></i></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Mary Elliott, Bory Thach, Marlene Hitt, Alice Pero, Joe DeCenzo, Ambika Talwar and Maja Trochimczyk at the Opening Reception and Reading of the Sky Garden Exhibition, October 16, 2022, Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia. </i></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">In the Preface, I described the inspiration and philosophy of the book as follows: </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">"The title of this anthology comes from my poem “The Year of Crystal Fire” written at the end of a very long and convoluted love story that has a lot to do with the ancient Chinese legends of nine-tailed foxes. Initially, the title of this anthology was to be The Year of Crystal Fire, just like the poem, but why limit ourselves to just one year? The phrase of “Crystal Fire” may be seen as the symbol of all humanity, with each person born from the union of man and woman, the male and female DNA strands interlocking in ever new patterns to create human beings. In this phrase, "Crystal" stands for the feminine and “Fire” for the masculine. “Crystal” is peaceful, somewhat static, but well-constructed, stable, and growing slowly into perfection. It is the cosmos of order and being. Remember, only women give birth (though some want to construct artificial wombs and detach humanity from its roots). In contrast, "Fire" is dynamic, sometimes intensely dramatic, always changing, always transforming, constantly in the state of flux. It is the energy of change and growth. It is also destructive, demolishing solid structures of the past to make room for the new. “Fire” means destruction and becoming. It is pure chaos." </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">"The Universe arises from the dance of these twin forces, like yin and yang, but neither is pure darkness, negative and “evil” and neither is pure light, positive, and “good.” Instead, they are the ageless vortex of cosmic unity and chaos, of creation and destruction. There is no value assigned to this polarity, for such labels are limiting and deceptive. Both aspects are essential, each cannot exist without its twin. Both are good AND evil, both are positive AND negative. ”Good and positive” when coupled with the other. “Evil and negative” when alone. These are the polar opposites of stagnation and decline—or constant movement and the total destruction of all life. The feminine elements of "earth" and "water" endlessly dance with the masculine elements of “air” and “fire.” Do you agree with me?"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My poems are listed and a sample poem is copied below.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 6pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RoipR_tamQmnRKa7NtBcknP6rsG1NrW61cMPm4rAg8gQjLpLP8n4sy-NjfGSTUV6KcMZ8Orft0OrzX8vNwSCvYcixjZGNJ62FGJo5JxHNn-YCRsTTd21KpZDemqmUpFBJzaO4DYTDFof5omOO34UemYArLYtRqbB-aX2x7ltfxxYoX6j5hHd6zI5/s2147/11-MAJA-Am-BlueArches111.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2147" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RoipR_tamQmnRKa7NtBcknP6rsG1NrW61cMPm4rAg8gQjLpLP8n4sy-NjfGSTUV6KcMZ8Orft0OrzX8vNwSCvYcixjZGNJ62FGJo5JxHNn-YCRsTTd21KpZDemqmUpFBJzaO4DYTDFof5omOO34UemYArLYtRqbB-aX2x7ltfxxYoX6j5hHd6zI5/w298-h400/11-MAJA-Am-BlueArches111.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Blue Arches </i>by Ambika Talwar, from <i>Crystal Fire </i>anthology.</div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 6pt;"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Snap ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">Maja Trochimczyk ≈ 127</span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">The Year of Crystal Fire <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>128<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">A Black Velvet Butterfly <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>129<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Repeat After Me <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>130<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">The Infinity Room <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>132<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Pelicans <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>134<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Liquid Opal <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>135<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">The School of Birds <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>136<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Alchemy in the Hills <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>137<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">The Stillness of Trees <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>138<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Imagine a Star… ≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>139<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">11.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Arbor Cosmica</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>140<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">12.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Like Grapes on a Vine <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>142<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">13.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">A Starchild’s Lesson <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>143<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">14.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Today Is for Us <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>≈ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>144<o:p></o:p></span></p></blockquote></blockquote><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo11; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"><br /></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 6pt;"> </span><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Snap ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">The Year of Crystal Fire</span> </p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Soft patter of pink rose petals</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">falling onto the floor. The scent of French Perfume</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">in the air. The heartbeat stops. The world ceases its rotations.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I see the light in your eyes shining</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">through the slit in your motorcycle helmet,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">as you pass me on the street. In a millisecond</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">of recognition you take me in—whole,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">serene in turquoise and aqua—then, you look away</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">far into the past we shared so shamelessly,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">beyond measure—</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of passion</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of dogs that brought us together</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of longing</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of dolphins dancing on salty waves</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of absence</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the year of waiting in darkness </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">the year of tiger lilies</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">the year of nine-tailed foxes—</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> smooth with seduction and delight</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Yes, I liked that year the most—</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">as we grew into our demonic, <i>daimonic</i> selves,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">created new galaxies, parallel universes</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">out of our other-worldly love.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Timelines shift.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">The cosmic windows</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">keep opening and closing.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Soft patter of pink rose petals</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">on the flying carpet takes me into</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> the year of passion</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> the year of tiger lilies</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> the year of diamond kites</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">soaring above hilltops</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> the year of stardust</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> the year of crystal fire</span></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14pt; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; text-align: justify;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The other poems are listed, along with a copy of the preface on Moonrise Press blog. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-publishes-crystal-fire.html">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-publishes-crystal-fire.html</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">More poems from the anthology are featured in a post about the exhibition:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html</span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUA5Kys9RTcn-IXpm4t8lSUy0IHGPLcpGDwfRGTx7B9d1U4E0_v6-ld5PNabYlVZ0-JcCdVjspFqIX9tvvbE34zQ2ohsRnsY-sjaqeLAQdtUxF3D_56A6mWZXtnBH7K2CbCWnrd2pm75lc118sHOWQ4ID2MXs8LFViC8JrtPJoPw4QvzldPPoF_S5yA/s4032/IMG_1423.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUA5Kys9RTcn-IXpm4t8lSUy0IHGPLcpGDwfRGTx7B9d1U4E0_v6-ld5PNabYlVZ0-JcCdVjspFqIX9tvvbE34zQ2ohsRnsY-sjaqeLAQdtUxF3D_56A6mWZXtnBH7K2CbCWnrd2pm75lc118sHOWQ4ID2MXs8LFViC8JrtPJoPw4QvzldPPoF_S5yA/w400-h300/IMG_1423.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">At the opening of the Sky Garden Exhibition with two books and photographs in the background. Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia, CA.</div><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pgl66Xk8-Qwtspow4LWUGLUSBueIbY_NtbxBP95a2t-k4kua13y6PidQnX2B3a3x8dNtRTb-QU9plwBSxCOQZsfHTEYb_cP0e4pzmnn6elOJGFHmsILNnnoO-Of_yaO-I0sZ1KOXmuo7s0Fi4NxqCgbsYqtjixX-jmhRVMUKPi7HO1nqxD8uB82EaQ/s2100/SkyGardenPostcardClosing-page-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2100" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4pgl66Xk8-Qwtspow4LWUGLUSBueIbY_NtbxBP95a2t-k4kua13y6PidQnX2B3a3x8dNtRTb-QU9plwBSxCOQZsfHTEYb_cP0e4pzmnn6elOJGFHmsILNnnoO-Of_yaO-I0sZ1KOXmuo7s0Fi4NxqCgbsYqtjixX-jmhRVMUKPi7HO1nqxD8uB82EaQ/w400-h286/SkyGardenPostcardClosing-page-001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Poems from the <i>Crystal Fire</i> anthology and from the <i>Bright Skies</i> collection were presented at two readings at Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia, California. The readings were to mark the opening on October 16, 2022 and closing on November 20, 2022 of an exhibit of Ambika Talwar's paintings from <i>Crystal Fire</i> and my photographs from <i>Bright Skies.</i> The exhibition, entitled "Sky Garden" and curated by Susan Dobay, presented just 12 paintings and 12 photographs, but gave rise to a series of events, including two poetry readings from the books. The exhibition was also visited by singer, guitarist and song-writer Piotr Kajetan Matczuk of Poland, who gave there a mini-concert. </span></p><p><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html</span></a></p><p><a href="https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html</span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnC7K1hKXA1JZraGev406N7cAuDNOLSbj33Hj0PtZm3pF9Rq-g82ScSxVzqKBSscQXWTa3TIZwPxSW5t5kygZDvMc3OIjEndQCqTJguiXOHWUKhb7Lwd7yQXjer9dl5EG2nCb2awaDSAuCmpz1Z11D_XHr46xw0FrZY3JRzpTkDRNngbOmwLpnLMKGQ/s4032/matczuk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKnC7K1hKXA1JZraGev406N7cAuDNOLSbj33Hj0PtZm3pF9Rq-g82ScSxVzqKBSscQXWTa3TIZwPxSW5t5kygZDvMc3OIjEndQCqTJguiXOHWUKhb7Lwd7yQXjer9dl5EG2nCb2awaDSAuCmpz1Z11D_XHr46xw0FrZY3JRzpTkDRNngbOmwLpnLMKGQ/w400-h300/matczuk.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maja Trochimczyk with Piotr Matczuk at Sky Garden Exhibition, 5 November 2022</div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Poet Bory Thach, included in the anthology and participating in the readings, shared the following comment about the book and readings: "I really appreciate everything that you do for the arts, especially how you strive to be fair and include everyone through well-deserved recognition. It's great to be surrounded by such positive poets with a wide variety of perspectives and insights that can be shown through their poetry. Being a writer I always try to learn something from every artist that I meet. The best part about our group is that I get to read amazing works by different authors, experience their views as well as fresh images and new ways of looking at the world. As a result, I have the privilege of gaining valuable knowledge and wisdom. All because I encountered so many poetic pieces as your editor. I'm just grateful to be able to take away at least one thing every time I open a book. It is like a step closer to enlightenment!"</span></p><div><span lang="PL" style="font-family: georgia; mso-ansi-language: PL; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryhzEueMVsHFfXQkCJxDFAgG3cscN54bauTM9NuFo9qpRf4gyVW4noFJx0F91G5nByQJN2W48-SkykvGs2pOsmvx2YGg5ESUmEnpNjiDCMGDLOnN94I60zs8sen09YsCLfL_usCOeoTn0M45m7mMZYwHZ-OnZ7of4ArZwetnk6gEB8kUvcZIkKwTA/s4032/20221120_155759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjryhzEueMVsHFfXQkCJxDFAgG3cscN54bauTM9NuFo9qpRf4gyVW4noFJx0F91G5nByQJN2W48-SkykvGs2pOsmvx2YGg5ESUmEnpNjiDCMGDLOnN94I60zs8sen09YsCLfL_usCOeoTn0M45m7mMZYwHZ-OnZ7of4ArZwetnk6gEB8kUvcZIkKwTA/w640-h312/20221120_155759.jpg" width="640" /></i></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Joe DeCenzo, Elzbieta Czajkowska, Susan Dobay, Maja <i>Trochimczyk and Bory Thach at the Closing Reception of the Sky Garden Exhibition, November 20, 2022.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-33357956968512319402022-09-10T17:25:00.007-07:002023-05-06T10:40:10.052-07:00Where Does Poetry Come From? Freeways, Riverbed, Roku, Online Shopping... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvuhKiy5U2xavV-JZzJCZtLGHxmNv7CUh4Njvm-vPtFHaXbi0uUux1-VmpRSykJi56LpY54zkp5j4iVkrNdYF6F6YA9mGK-XO9QpK8e-O-hPT5Q1ZXmEDJYjlGqlF8Ghm8bTDgkWh_uzxWn__h1SfsglXmJHVI6Nu5HqZXpVFML1VVS_lbusbZ8Ot/s4032/IMG_8126.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvuhKiy5U2xavV-JZzJCZtLGHxmNv7CUh4Njvm-vPtFHaXbi0uUux1-VmpRSykJi56LpY54zkp5j4iVkrNdYF6F6YA9mGK-XO9QpK8e-O-hPT5Q1ZXmEDJYjlGqlF8Ghm8bTDgkWh_uzxWn__h1SfsglXmJHVI6Nu5HqZXpVFML1VVS_lbusbZ8Ot/w400-h300/IMG_8126.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Once upon a time, in Poland, there lived a humorist of great wit. He wrote a lot and was quite popular so once a silly female fan asked him: "Master, where do your ideas come from? Like, from your head, or something?" The joker answered, "No, my dear lady, straight from my leg..." I may have misremembered the joke, but the point is to think about the source of poetic inspiration. Where does it all come from? Why do I find it so hard to write on a prompt, assigned topic or a quote? Yes, I can write these things, but then they feel dense, boring and lame. </p><p>Sometimes, poems come to me (only in English) when I dream: I wake up with an almost ready poem. It is all good, if I write it down right away, but not so good, if I forget - as was the case with "I am in love with Luo Jim" - that was complete upon waking up and then forgotten. It caused me a lot of trouble to reproduce it afterwards. Poems also come when I'm relaxed and otherwise occupied with straightforward tasks like driving on a freeway, or on a near empty street. Swimming, gardening, going for walks, or meditating are also good places to find poems. Meditation is strange: So often, instead of clearing my mind of random thoughts, I get a poem while I train my breath to deepen, slow down and become more regular. The breath of life... prana. So, let's read some quotidian poems that came into being in such silly ways. </p><p>Let's start from the melting moon, that I saw disappearing behind the ridge of hills while driving south on the 210 around six p.m., close to sunset. The hills were orange and purple, the moon, not quite full yet, unfinished. When I looked back in the mirror I saw the sun at the same level, getting redder as it was setting. What does the melting moon remind one of, while driving when anything can happen any time? The passing of life, of course. So, here it is:</p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">A Wish Upon a Moon</span></b></p><p><br />The snowball of a moon<br />Melts into brow summer hills<br /> at sunset.<br /><br />It looks unfinished<br />as if a painter abandoned <br />the imperfect draft<br />before completion.<br /><br />And so our lives<br />melt into timelessness,<br />leaving behind disheveled words<br />a stack of dreams <br />and scattered wishes.<br /><br />“All shall be well” –<br />the poet confirmed.<br />His words bring us comfort<br />while we exhaust ourselves <br />with doubt, worry and regret.<br /><br />All shall be well” <br />And all is well – <br /><br />You know, <br />the melting moon <br />will come back. </p><p>(c) 2022 by Maja Trochimczyk</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHq80RGWdV7bTATdJQl8Jm-BgYJ0xo8i7PEGe8FI_NVS-Qc0RKsyUjO7oRltgm0-GP1ib_4YSaWllmgeBJ17FQuNt6hAdTuGUg76xlBBKBwHaUTCwHAH19C8N0eWMEOZYWZ4qL11IRAcaJ-NezeRb10NcfO7ekqk8wMkQB4UrQRyM5cBjmbmJeJ4g/s4032/IMG_7715.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHq80RGWdV7bTATdJQl8Jm-BgYJ0xo8i7PEGe8FI_NVS-Qc0RKsyUjO7oRltgm0-GP1ib_4YSaWllmgeBJ17FQuNt6hAdTuGUg76xlBBKBwHaUTCwHAH19C8N0eWMEOZYWZ4qL11IRAcaJ-NezeRb10NcfO7ekqk8wMkQB4UrQRyM5cBjmbmJeJ4g/w400-h300/IMG_7715.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>Another "driving" poem came from a red-light stop on a Friday afternoon in downtown Los Angeles. Our dear friend, ballet master and choreographer Stefan Wenta died, and I was looking for a suitable red-and-white wreath in the colors of Polish national flag to present at his funeral. The best place to find these is, of course, the flower district. I stopped and looked ahead. The cross-street was named "Arcadia" for garden paradise of peace, yet right down I could see the ominous towers of the county jail. The contrast was just too stark. I used to work at the Midnight Mission on Skid Row and drove down there daily in the past, but it's been years since I saw the human misery concentrated in this strange corner of the City of Angels, full of warehouses, garbage, vacant lot and new loft developments for yuppies. The poem is a straightforward description of what I did and saw that day.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaz8E22xj1q72PUtgbRhEVZWDGlI0BkSB2hLOd7ua5OKMp0-VcqVXRca6pSmf7QPLOI4Da-St-m31DpzV-TXkNTkQdzTRUck2U9weL1WM7Fw_Mbdkho6699_wbeywQ9EanBFzLgihA6sKFl0xpmozcOBNYRWshzrooUg8UFhOySjURZ7Bio_WN02W/s4032/IMG_8694.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaz8E22xj1q72PUtgbRhEVZWDGlI0BkSB2hLOd7ua5OKMp0-VcqVXRca6pSmf7QPLOI4Da-St-m31DpzV-TXkNTkQdzTRUck2U9weL1WM7Fw_Mbdkho6699_wbeywQ9EanBFzLgihA6sKFl0xpmozcOBNYRWshzrooUg8UFhOySjURZ7Bio_WN02W/w400-h300/IMG_8694.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>DTLA</b></span></p><p></p><p><br />Downtown Los Angeles.<br />At the corner of Alameda and Arcadia Street<br />Two dying palms with shredded leaves<br />struggle to ornament a bleak landscape<br />of cement and asphalt.<br />Narrow vertical slits of windows<br />in thick walls of gray towers look like gaps<br />for archers in a medieval fortress<br />of granite and slate.<br /><br />Here they keep inmates of Men’s Central Jail<br />from suicide or murder. Nobody can break<br />this glass. Nobody can jump. Thousands<br />pass through each year.<br />Bedraggled men on the next corner<br />dig through a heap of cardboard<br />looking for the best pieces to make<br />shelter on the sidewalk for the night.<br /><br />All stores close at six pm. Gaudy rolls<br />of sparkling fabrics in a dance store<br />brighten the scene with artificial cheer.<br />Few tents are up. Night residents<br />are not back yet from the day of panhandling<br />and food kitchen lines. In a vacant lot,<br />a white balloon, smudged with dirt,<br />rolls along the skeletal remains of weeds.<br /><br />I find the last florist open by an emptyspot.<br />I buy the first red and white wreath I see.<br />Perfect! I order a ribbon with inscription<br />and delivery to the funeral mass.<br />I leave with a bouquet of my own.<br />Driving home, immersed in the dense<br />Sweetness of stargazer lilies, I sigh<br />heading back to my world of gardens,<br />birdsong, mountains, feisty hummingbirds<br />and two mourning doves caressing each other<br />long after making love in the driveway.<br /><br />The heady scent o five-petalled stars<br />reminds me of the broken promises<br />of yesteryear and the brightness<br />of tomorrow.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAcm6HYq8RiILvd-eul-7rX1EOSIl14YG39RKjIVDC6_XOmqKxRx9Fu_qqoHadLhCOFrgUr9X6UFpZBhTOEbR0ibyIzOdKjbwT4IKg9TAmNO6MJ6lyrHivWDTig4m18FDyM6iWr0SaENFzwuQX5F2APriBFzDB62_t3VND3mLHlOvLIxGbcsEBms7/s983/983px-Lilium_Oriental_hybrid_--_Lilium_orientalis_-_'Stargazer'.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="983" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAcm6HYq8RiILvd-eul-7rX1EOSIl14YG39RKjIVDC6_XOmqKxRx9Fu_qqoHadLhCOFrgUr9X6UFpZBhTOEbR0ibyIzOdKjbwT4IKg9TAmNO6MJ6lyrHivWDTig4m18FDyM6iWr0SaENFzwuQX5F2APriBFzDB62_t3VND3mLHlOvLIxGbcsEBms7/w400-h313/983px-Lilium_Oriental_hybrid_--_Lilium_orientalis_-_'Stargazer'.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stargazer lily from Wikimedia Commons. I cannot find my own, so there...</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The next poem is a reflection on my unwillingness to turn back time. Once, a co-worker asked me, in earnest: "How much would you pay to become 20 again?" His answer was $200,000, but I said "Nothing - I'm so happy I'm not twenty, ignorant and out of control emotionally. I'd never want to go back to being that." Not even a perfectly beautiful, young and fit body would compensate for the deficiencies of experience, the vacuous ignorance of mind and heart. It took me lots of lessons to come to the place of wisdom and I'm still learning, so I cherish every wrinkle... <p></p><p>Here's what I learned from buying a sofa online. My first such experiment, justified by two points. One - to spare myself from hours wading through stores full of sofas. Two - because it looked just like my old one, so it could be put in the same place. It turned out to be faux leather, not leather - even better, for I do not want to decorate my home with trophies from killing sentient beings. Though I still wear leather shoes and carry purses. Vanity is hard to discard... But it is a humorous poem. The word "Sofa" is funny in itself, try saying it several times in order: sofa, sofa, sofa... </p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The Sofa Dilemma</span></b></p><p>I bought a sofa<br />To replace an old sofa<br />Placing toe online order<br />From the old sofa full of holes<br />To bring a new sofa <br />And take the old away in a few days.<br /><br />I bought a sofa <br />To replace another sofa<br />For they look the same. <br />It will be as if time reversed and went back<br />To 2005 when this shredded sofa<br />Was still my sparkling new sofa<br />In camel or cognac leather – <br />These names are so strange.<br /><br />So did I buy this new sofa<br />To reverse the time flow<br />And find myself when I was still<br />Deluded with illusory hope<br />For life that was not meant to be?<br /><br />Was it a hiccup of memory, <br />a sudden echo from the past? <br />No I just bought a new sofa<br />To precisely replace a zombie sofa.</p><p>That's all. I'm pleased.</p><p><br /></p><p>Finally, my dream poem of a dream hero of manufactured dreams from a Chinese costume drama TV series. Watching Chinese and Korean fantasy dramas became my favorite past-time. They are not as vicious, cruel, mindlessly unfunny, or sentimental as American productions. They are mostly "upright" and teach obvious lessons of the love of the country, compassion for the poor, value of service and integrity, respect for parents, faithfulness to loved ones and friends, loyalty and love till death us part... </p><p>The costumes are fantastic, the hair and robes long and flowing... Wide sleeves and black tresses float on the breeze when the heroes and heroines fly around. Who wouldn't want to fly? What's not to love? Plus, in a streaming mode, it is fairly easy to fast-forward through the scenes of war or torture, or scheming conversations of wicked villains. Alas, the English translation of subtitles is often abysmal, though it may add to fun, by becoming a puzzle to be solved. Dubbing is completely out of question. </p><p>Luo Jin is one of the stars of the "Princess of Wei Young," a well-written series where he falls in life with the title character, played by his real wife, and their warmth is obvious on the screen. There is only one flaw - the blooms in the fields are all silk flowers, perhaps there was nothing blooming in the winter when the episodes were filmed. So....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxWPDZONaCqWcKGut2BJqOVZ7c86-oqMkiorMDf2JP3Ey2vSsqWlkscNnt1RzWwKDIk6CRHv_rld9pkOg_zg60H863ff9WTGOXk0FkDNnIhaB3DY7XEt-DaAgo3ne6LQ32cZ8zIEgFdl0ECiehNMVnlk9JJHVJ9u_AOkTgIlbG9NlFqPZWkr6vw4j/s4032/IMG_8669.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxWPDZONaCqWcKGut2BJqOVZ7c86-oqMkiorMDf2JP3Ey2vSsqWlkscNnt1RzWwKDIk6CRHv_rld9pkOg_zg60H863ff9WTGOXk0FkDNnIhaB3DY7XEt-DaAgo3ne6LQ32cZ8zIEgFdl0ECiehNMVnlk9JJHVJ9u_AOkTgIlbG9NlFqPZWkr6vw4j/w400-h300/IMG_8669.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div>The whole poem will be published elsewhere, here's just a teaser, first two stanzas.... <br /><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I Fell in Love with Luo Jin</span></b></p><p><br />On the screen,<br />his eyes are always smiling,<br />even when just a corner of his mouth<br />lifts up in a rakish smirk.<br />I love his bravado when saving maidens<br />from ancient demons.<br />He flies through air while shooting arrows,<br />suspended from steel cables<br />in a deceptive, engineering feat.<br /><br />I am in love with Luo Jin,<br />tenderly plucking guzheng strings,<br />wistfully gazing at the stars,<br />or into the eyes of his on-screen lover,<br />his real wife. Betrayal? Never! <br />He gives me of what I can only dream.<br />Like me, billions of others love Luo Jin,<br />seduced by the grand illusion of the film.<br />His sword ballet is an aerial dance –<br />killing without the stench of rotting corpses.<br />Pure flight, joy, even – Oh, Luo Jin!<br /></p><p>That's just one difference between oral and written poetry. It is good if there is rhythm and rhyme. I think all students should memorize the Greek patterns of rhythm, called feet: iamb (ta DA), trochee (DA ta), anapest (ta ta DA), dactyl (DA ta ta), and spondee (DA DA). Poems, even free verse, sound more "poetic" when patterns of these rhythm are repeated and woven into a flow. </p><p>English language and Polish langue "love" different rhythmic patterns: most words are accented on penultimate syllable in Polish, so lines tend to be longer and more flowing. I do not even dream poems in Polish, and I really do not know why. Maybe the rhythm of English fits me better. Also, as a second language, it is somewhat "artificial" - it has some characteristics of an imperfect mask - I keep my Polish accent, so the mask is flawed, so is the quotidian poetry, good for this blog. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvMNWOpOGAvpFzgieT2hFusHtU3b3T9Rqd4PNrCgpicHhI99s4a-vufIQ08ZcZMcAU0gNzWZXw4FaoN6CgkmR3FqIEfaqJcpOINySNMKHQUdl3vYZaH1i3kcK2kkeMhxzI6TVyUeBW2rrLBJe4XBI9Z7fU7SWJjbvo0vrdJIjAcBOm9BGS40l0nq2/s1280/IMG_8681.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpvMNWOpOGAvpFzgieT2hFusHtU3b3T9Rqd4PNrCgpicHhI99s4a-vufIQ08ZcZMcAU0gNzWZXw4FaoN6CgkmR3FqIEfaqJcpOINySNMKHQUdl3vYZaH1i3kcK2kkeMhxzI6TVyUeBW2rrLBJe4XBI9Z7fU7SWJjbvo0vrdJIjAcBOm9BGS40l0nq2/w400-h300/IMG_8681.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A POSTCRIPT ABOUT THE RIVER</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In February 2023, after months of incessant rain, pouring in thick layers, as if in a cloud-burst, the Bigh Tujunga wash became a river. I filmed some muddy water flows and the links are copied below. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/RJYexVu4r5s" id="share-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size,15px); line-height: 24px; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/RJYexVu4r5s</a> - turbulent waves of muddy stream in the valley</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/FpcaAMHF9kM" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/FpcaAMHF9kM</a> - waves of muddy stream break over rocks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/Hxl7XWcQaG4" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Hxl7XWcQaG4</a> - there is no road, just a river and a mini waterfall (30 sec)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/lJhlNWEdmKE" style="font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size,15px); text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/lJhlNWEdmKE</a> - waves turn back, the patterns are fascinating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Look at that massive force of flowing water. Poor trees bent out of shape, with a weight of dead branches pushing them to fall down and float away. So do our daily trouble push and push in the relentless flow of time. . . Big Tujunga flows, if it has water in it, from Los Angeles National Forest mountains down to Los Angeles river. Sometimes, there are only rocks, sometimes, just a tiny stream, but this spring it changed into a raging, muddy river, that even took away part of our usual path and moved from where we used to play in pools created by rock dams, filling that area with sand instead. In 1998, it took away two holes and surrounding land from our golf course; they built a concrete wall to protect the rest after that... We can learn so much from rivers. So alive: always changing, always breathing, moving, dancing the endless dance of flow and change.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span face="Roboto, Noto, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I could write a poem about lessons learned from such mighty, transient rivers - here today, gone tomorrow - but Zbigniew Herbert already did that, and I do not want to be a plagiarist. Yes, we can learn a lot from rivers... even those ones that do not last year round. </span></div><br />Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-17855962350495395402022-08-18T20:33:00.003-07:002023-02-01T17:26:10.895-08:00Maja Trochimczyk's New Book, "Bright Skies" (2022) with Poems to Heal, Amuse, and Inspire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdrmJajMEM0i8gON0AnarnzHgTLumjVtmZ9jdqmvfm00hJuc9a-Mf-VUP2xAJhAtOAbz-ybOPm_epFj8-0pR9A-ELKOyW-NF8qv_qU2Zls8N_FKfrvosHm4wwXHvz-8CmYSAnvXd98j7-0r76tjUS8I1XnK95LsNCNpwsPxyEgn25B4dCn7PnUMGE/s4500/Bright%20Skies%20Cover%20Vine%20Front-page-001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4500" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdrmJajMEM0i8gON0AnarnzHgTLumjVtmZ9jdqmvfm00hJuc9a-Mf-VUP2xAJhAtOAbz-ybOPm_epFj8-0pR9A-ELKOyW-NF8qv_qU2Zls8N_FKfrvosHm4wwXHvz-8CmYSAnvXd98j7-0r76tjUS8I1XnK95LsNCNpwsPxyEgn25B4dCn7PnUMGE/w266-h400/Bright%20Skies%20Cover%20Vine%20Front-page-001.jpg" width="266" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/maja-trochimczyk/bright-skies/paperback/product-qmrmp5.html?page=1&pageSize=4" target="_blank">ISBN 978-1-945938-49-8</a>, color paperback</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">US Trade (6 x 9 in / 152 x 229 mm), 184 Pages</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">85 poems, 160 color photographs, 6 portraits</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div><a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/maja-trochimczyk/bright-skies/ebook/product-vd8qmp.html?q=bright+skies+maja+trochimczyk&page=1&pageSize=4">ISBN 978-1-945938-52-8</a>, eBook in ePub format</div><div>ISBN 978-1-945938-54-2 color hardcover.</div><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Maja Trochimczyk Reads "From Minium Chronicles", "Ocean of Jade" and "On Landscapes: A Guidebook" from the "Bright Skies" on YouTube, June 2022 (11 minutes): <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/m0i17jPRPLs" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: start; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/m0i17jPRPLs</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Maja Trochimczyk Reads selected poems from "Bright Skies" on YouTube, June 2022 (30 minutes):</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30QrXhNFO7Q">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30QrXhNFO7Q</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Maja Trochimczyk dedicates this collection of poems, “Bright Skies,” to her children and grand-children, asking them to read and enjoy her verse “when they grow up.” The volume features 85 poems written in 2009-2022 and organized into five sections – Spring, Summer, Babie Lato, Autumn and Winter. The seasons of poetry include reflections on nature, beauty, love, life, and spirituality. The focus is on positive emotions, learning to be calm and content, full of compassion and wisdom. It is a life-long quest, and these poems are an invitation. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhx5-_Zo1DCrOcO-cxBJfZURcNz9Am9mRpAgLVgxaEMVzyoqaf_zxbShe6CSpJC-lBo98WG7Bh7bVBgoV08w0u-eosyF3JLQkYBkUBDXY2zN-yNmKmUnX4fMPqhDj_nvRhrxtJSYljMfQo4ODPHuL4BddGyWFt_2Y29AREFL3ahcjersFvgVrS_pIp/s856/brightcrown.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="856" data-original-width="856" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhx5-_Zo1DCrOcO-cxBJfZURcNz9Am9mRpAgLVgxaEMVzyoqaf_zxbShe6CSpJC-lBo98WG7Bh7bVBgoV08w0u-eosyF3JLQkYBkUBDXY2zN-yNmKmUnX4fMPqhDj_nvRhrxtJSYljMfQo4ODPHuL4BddGyWFt_2Y29AREFL3ahcjersFvgVrS_pIp/s320/brightcrown.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">The poems are illustrated with 160 photographs taken in the poet’s neighborhood – Big Tujunga Wash, Angeles National Forest, Descanso Gardens, and Oxnard Beach. The surprising “Coda” brings a set of recipes for old-fashioned Polish dishes mentioned in poems. Bringing together favorite memories of her Polish childhood – making and flying kites, plays with soap bubbles – and the delights of sunny Southern California gardens, parks, and beaches, the book includes lessons how to seek and find the daily dose of domestic bliss. This book is a legacy from a well-lived life, and a companion to "Into Light: Poems and Incantations" - another collection of positive, inspirational poetry illustrated with photos.</span><p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcmKAuoQqCVN0sJVsDZe2SxZe-f72n2cKbUfaa9-5wos4Fb07E17VvDy6oVTOV8IFVA_Kd-brRZwB6mAeC_YwE69rXWlO7aOHddng7eNPqYgQonNNlpg3Rd6UgZO2jYYALhfrJGuZGmlfgdWJycdGTe0cpyA24bdhScnmyx_0PDvmn4ROg3q2QWkx/s990/brightfamilybeach.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="990" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcmKAuoQqCVN0sJVsDZe2SxZe-f72n2cKbUfaa9-5wos4Fb07E17VvDy6oVTOV8IFVA_Kd-brRZwB6mAeC_YwE69rXWlO7aOHddng7eNPqYgQonNNlpg3Rd6UgZO2jYYALhfrJGuZGmlfgdWJycdGTe0cpyA24bdhScnmyx_0PDvmn4ROg3q2QWkx/w400-h310/brightfamilybeach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Preface</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;">This collection of poems is inspired by the births of my two granddaughters, Aurelia, born on 12 September 2021 and Juniper, born on 16 September 2021.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;">I planned to write a book of poems for each girl, just as I did for my grandson, Adam, born on 16 September 2016.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;">The poetry book dedicated to him, entitled </span><i style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;">I Give You the World</i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; text-align: justify;">, contains one long poem describing things that I love and cherish in this life, illustrated with photos of my family, travels, and gardens. An abridged version without family pictures appeared on my blog; this version is further shortened here. The purpose of the book for Adam was to introduce the Polish-born boy to his American & Canadian family and their lives. He now lives in the U.S. and is able to share these delights in-person.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Since Adam got “the whole world” as his birthday present, what can I give to his five-years-younger sister, Aurelia, and his cousin, Juniper? I found 85 poems and over 160 photographs that I decided to share with them, in a book to be read when they grow up. This is not a children’s book. With gratitude, I described delights that I found in my garden and home, during walks, adventures, and travels. I wrote about inspirational moments and discoveries, summarizing my life’s wisdom at 64. This volume of “positive poetry” contains verse originally written in 2009-2022 and is a companion volume to <i>Into Light: Poems and Incantations</i> (2016). It is a necklace of love and blessings; each bead – a poem.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">I hope that the readers attracted to the themes of seeking light and enjoying life in the garden will find here something to enjoy, something to think about, and something to do in their own lives. After all, we live in the Garden of Eden and can make this Earth a Paradise, if we only want to. Enjoy!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><i style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Maja Trochimczyk</span></i></p><p style="text-align: right;"><i style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 15.6933px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Los Angeles, 1 June 2022</span></i></p><p style="text-align: right;"><i style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 15.6933px; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5bxKRa8zfS8_jWVkrr6WXokAbi-8QjPY5ywbU6sfvOO-XjrnuvAnZuiZXMYIqzcU3fL0LoQuN39KXeX5QsSLJaLBGzipY72uVp2w-r7IB2GGY0yGlFDpK8gbooV-40XtAsK9Fv45dS46gp2V6dOsGIAQiK1Hx3L2yxPoJuDjYqfYXPLtwH03W7Rl/s968/Bright%20Spring1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="968" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU5bxKRa8zfS8_jWVkrr6WXokAbi-8QjPY5ywbU6sfvOO-XjrnuvAnZuiZXMYIqzcU3fL0LoQuN39KXeX5QsSLJaLBGzipY72uVp2w-r7IB2GGY0yGlFDpK8gbooV-40XtAsK9Fv45dS46gp2V6dOsGIAQiK1Hx3L2yxPoJuDjYqfYXPLtwH03W7Rl/w400-h300/Bright%20Spring1.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;">Table of Contents<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 11.4133px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Table of Contents ≈ v</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Preface ≈ viii<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Prior Publication Credits ≈ ix<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> </span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;">Spring ~Wiosna ≈ 3<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">A Springtime Revelation ≈ 4 </span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Only in California ≈ 5</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Day of a Plum Tree ≈ 7</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">4.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Outside my Window ≈ 9</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">5.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Spring Cleaning ≈ 11</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">6.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>An Artichoke of a Poem ≈ 13</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">7.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On Being Green in Vincent’s Garden ≈ 15</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">8.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Da Capo al Fine ≈ 17</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">9.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Ballad of a New Heart ≈ 19</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">10.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>An Invitation to the Dance ≈ 21</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">11.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Ballad of Angels ≈ 23</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">12.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Practical Advice for a Frazzled Passer-by ≈ 25</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">13.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Skylark’s Lesson ≈ 27</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">14.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Oh, The Art of Looking ≈ 29</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">15.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>On Being a Bird ≈ 31</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">16.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the doves of love ≈ 32</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">17.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Mystery Solved ≈ 33</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">18.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Double Delight ≈ 35</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">19.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Diamond Days in Crystal Gardens ≈ 36</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">20.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This Afternoon ≈ 39</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">21.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>From Minium Chronicles ≈ 40</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">22.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Golden Hour ≈ 42</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><b><span style="color: #538135; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;"> </span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB889hCp_bKmNbsrcbx254lwywOKK8HpVsSc3vZv5FAe8rc6C0IaXw7pjBQ-bkwWxxWU5EnBSM6kraPlFSUJ2ZkSyDwMwN7V8R-L_3ExfoWMPeAvJ4VVrKBcesjIvCsxXjLTFTYyt7-i5XlQlZKf6TMIfALoLeG2ckggxdL4EK3DPLQDLI6zbeeQq1/s968/bright%20lato2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="968" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB889hCp_bKmNbsrcbx254lwywOKK8HpVsSc3vZv5FAe8rc6C0IaXw7pjBQ-bkwWxxWU5EnBSM6kraPlFSUJ2ZkSyDwMwN7V8R-L_3ExfoWMPeAvJ4VVrKBcesjIvCsxXjLTFTYyt7-i5XlQlZKf6TMIfALoLeG2ckggxdL4EK3DPLQDLI6zbeeQq1/w400-h300/bright%20lato2.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #538135; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">Summer ~Lato ≈ 43<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">June in Gold and Blue ≈ 44</span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Song of the Summer ≈ 46</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Tale of a Hare ≈ 48</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">4.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Drink of Water ≈ 50</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">5.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mason Bees ≈ 51</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">6.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Golden Time of Honey ≈ 53</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">7.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Dreaming Bees ≈ 55</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">8.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Pear in a Tree ≈ 56</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">9.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Day Trip to Venice, California ≈ 57</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">10.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Carving Sand ≈ 59</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">11.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Champagne Sunday ≈ 61</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">12.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Aquamarine ≈ 63</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">13.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Ocean of Jade ≈ 65</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">14.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The 23rd of July ≈ 67</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">15.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Tatarak ≈ 69</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">16.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Flying Kites ≈ 71</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">17.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Let me go!” ≈ 73</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">18.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Soap Bubbles ≈ 74</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">19.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>High Noon ≈ 75</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">20.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Matka Boska Zielna ≈ 76</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l2 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">21.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In Morning Light ≈ 78</span></p><div style="text-indent: -24px;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZ3kjsBkw_V_ZvEAfBfHR-5TDsQqjF-LWNekAKjtC17HFRs_O1vX9hkfSONsQP4x46HpbbsdRpIffWmqLDzJM_Trws44VgEbxk0xuB3cqVuDrpTH52Bn0oXo8ZOi_PhJeHFUDOL9p6lMgPv-v3S7hEXYPVJmMF6FuHcAA5xbP95nsyngUNE9YgILk/s967/bright%20babie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="967" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZ3kjsBkw_V_ZvEAfBfHR-5TDsQqjF-LWNekAKjtC17HFRs_O1vX9hkfSONsQP4x46HpbbsdRpIffWmqLDzJM_Trws44VgEbxk0xuB3cqVuDrpTH52Bn0oXo8ZOi_PhJeHFUDOL9p6lMgPv-v3S7hEXYPVJmMF6FuHcAA5xbP95nsyngUNE9YgILk/w400-h300/bright%20babie.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #c00000; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;">Babie Lato ≈ 81<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">On Thursday Afternoon ≈ 82</span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sapphire ≈ 84</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Amber ≈ 85</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">4.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Revelation after Il Paradiso ≈ 86</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">5.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Up, Up, Up ≈ 88</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">6.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>From Yesterday’s Dream ≈ 89</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">7.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sunfire Foxes ≈ 91</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">8.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Sweet Nothings ≈ 92</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">9.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Year of Crystal Fire ≈ 94</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">10.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Just to Make It Clear ≈ 96</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">11.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Chromosome Ballad ≈ 97</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">12.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Twin Flame Promise ≈ 98</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">13.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Diamonds ≈ 100</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo3; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdhD-0wXpnKY_DIlC1lv1RYvWg60JUpul5Omgam7Ql8ZUrrYQrQvhX-cZhJDC8QYN1Pj5oMNxORZE86eCgFq3VB5r72AIfxW9ULKkV0caLSgCV2dwcYyW4LD32nYTXsKrxHG0eTV2BFgOG6WvQfXB2bgZTXND_dqqrMSbMQAWa7e5eBL3wn7Fn4f7/s419/brightfall1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="311" data-original-width="419" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPdhD-0wXpnKY_DIlC1lv1RYvWg60JUpul5Omgam7Ql8ZUrrYQrQvhX-cZhJDC8QYN1Pj5oMNxORZE86eCgFq3VB5r72AIfxW9ULKkV0caLSgCV2dwcYyW4LD32nYTXsKrxHG0eTV2BFgOG6WvQfXB2bgZTXND_dqqrMSbMQAWa7e5eBL3wn7Fn4f7/w400-h297/brightfall1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990033; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;">Autumn ~ Jesien ≈ 101<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">On Cosmic Breath ≈ 102</span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Landscapes: A Guidebook ≈ 103</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Cosmic Rainbow ≈ 106</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">4.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Today – For Us ≈ 110</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">5.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I Give You the World ≈ 112</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">6.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Golden Poem for a Girl of Gold ≈ 122</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">7.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gold Wishes ≈ 124</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">8.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Juniper ≈ 127</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">9.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Fierce Explorer ≈ 128</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">10.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Aril ≈ 130</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">11.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fall Yucca ≈ 132</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">12.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>This Evening ≈ 135</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">13.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Diamond Rain ≈ 136</span></p><div style="text-indent: -24px;"><br /></div><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv74_1N8kHWD1xX8TBCPi-SOGtTodyUTe4TiDsDeXCsWal-0uH1Tdh2cXtywoRYDrPmY-OPi5DW2oCRCBTQy2n_NJIvxo2INdVq5A49_FgwZ7bX3mITip91M_Q1ZsfyZMq8Umj4HqOYUUjmWh1D-NNbST8e8XsRNqOrB8H634NeVxTyBMwGy_6OLZe/s964/brightwinter3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="964" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv74_1N8kHWD1xX8TBCPi-SOGtTodyUTe4TiDsDeXCsWal-0uH1Tdh2cXtywoRYDrPmY-OPi5DW2oCRCBTQy2n_NJIvxo2INdVq5A49_FgwZ7bX3mITip91M_Q1ZsfyZMq8Umj4HqOYUUjmWh1D-NNbST8e8XsRNqOrB8H634NeVxTyBMwGy_6OLZe/w400-h308/brightwinter3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 22.8267px;">Winter ~ Zima ≈ 139<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Book Antiqua"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Book Antiqua";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">California Winter ≈ 140</span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">2.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Standing in a Pool of Silver ≈ 141</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">3.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Antidote ≈ 142</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">4.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Music Box Christmas ≈ 144</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">5.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Rules for Happy, Holy Days ≈ 146</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">6.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Ballad from the Field of Glory ≈ 147</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">7.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Jewel Box Sunrise ≈ 150</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">8.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Winter Solstice ≈ 152</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">9.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Star of Christmas, the Way of Light ≈ 154</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">10.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gifts ≈ 156</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">11.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>New Year’s Day in the Wash ≈ 158</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">12.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Your Rainbow ≈ 160</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">13.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Imagine, a Poem of Light ≈ 161</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">14.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>A Declaration ≈ 162</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">15.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Arbor Cosmica ≈ 164</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">16.<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Hymn of Light ≈ 166</span></p><div style="text-indent: -24px;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Coda – Recipes for Poems ≈ 168<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Spring – <i>Mazurkas</i> ≈ 168<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Summer – Pickled Pears and Plums ≈ 169<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Babie Lato – <i>Szarlotka </i>≈ 170<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Autumn – <i>Bigos</i> and Salads ≈ 171<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Winter – <i>Barszcz, Kompot</i> and <i>Kutia </i>≈ 172<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.25in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo5; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">About the Author ≈ 173</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWkOzkxNCuw06GEJbd2MEf8zbBjJsjfbp8AViZuJybW8kjcuB9lAJ5dQJUiGXFv_15YzHFsZiwoVdzAD7ZjY3H9S7quI42Oqr8rJu7FrKBH_A0BS5ZLsDVFK5XCbsfuMaEoOX-L1ay1aIEJIvC84VGk4ga-Kas-TtDB2_FTznZcOfGdfdKkRvk0jD/s981/Bright%20spring.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="981" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQWkOzkxNCuw06GEJbd2MEf8zbBjJsjfbp8AViZuJybW8kjcuB9lAJ5dQJUiGXFv_15YzHFsZiwoVdzAD7ZjY3H9S7quI42Oqr8rJu7FrKBH_A0BS5ZLsDVFK5XCbsfuMaEoOX-L1ay1aIEJIvC84VGk4ga-Kas-TtDB2_FTznZcOfGdfdKkRvk0jD/w400-h300/Bright%20spring.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">SPRING - WIOSNA</span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Outside my Window</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b><span style="color: #0070c0; font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 8pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A round spot of gold light</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">appears on the slope of my California hills</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">green in the spring, shadowed by rainclouds.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Suddenly, an epiphany of light, a hole in the sky</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">appears among thickening shadows, dusk</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">approaching soon, much too soon.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The bright circle stretches into</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">an arrow, points west, along the ridge</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">and the gully. The arrow of light, my arrow</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">tells me to go, do, act, lead and follow.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Be the light, bring the light. Enlighten.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Before I can even reach for pen and paper</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">to write down this command, this call to action,</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">it is gone. All is shadow now. Murky darkness.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet the memory of cloud epiphany lingers,</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">etched onto my retina. This spot of light,</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">this arrow will always be with me —</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">every day, each morning I will turn the circle</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of contemplation into the arrow of action,</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the dawn star into a comet, inexorably </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">reaching its end.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Is it not the story of my life?</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This spot of light on a mountain meadow</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">after one winter storm, before another?</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I catch it, hold it, and keep it safe</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">among my treasures. Things not to be</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">discarded. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unforgettable thoughts.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another pearl for my precious necklace</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">woven from brilliant moments — </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">jewels of a well-lived life.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TI6yXjJC3wtDDTS3IVGTsbK-cE5mT_baF32KptSy6xLGISzZH6BBCW-e4bnbKwhmz_j5oJAqz0hWNptp7nNrl5CotgwTTIIp9Pi1fsgrPwoqvC_w7vCBUnLoitQZLeVf-WrCpLunNfC9E8FHA-ugxZjP5hhaugOolImtWGpR10o4kF5RZB76DqMG/s981/bright%20summer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="981" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TI6yXjJC3wtDDTS3IVGTsbK-cE5mT_baF32KptSy6xLGISzZH6BBCW-e4bnbKwhmz_j5oJAqz0hWNptp7nNrl5CotgwTTIIp9Pi1fsgrPwoqvC_w7vCBUnLoitQZLeVf-WrCpLunNfC9E8FHA-ugxZjP5hhaugOolImtWGpR10o4kF5RZB76DqMG/w400-h300/bright%20summer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>SUMMER - LATO</b></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #538135; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 191;">Matka Boska Zielna<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">~ for Mother of God of the Herbs (August 15)</span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Look at the greening hill slopes charred by last year’s wildfire</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">that’s magic. Look at the mountain sunflower that grew</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">at the edge of the asphalt on Oro Vista road, it already blooms</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">out of nowhere</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">that’s magic, too. The postcard-size garden</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">by the old, wooden house, a shack, really</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">fills with flowers</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">every spring. Fruit appears on orange trees after bees collect pollen.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The scent of sweetness, the cheerful noise of bee wings</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">is it not far more miraculous, a thousand, a million times</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">more delightful than the 100 floors of steel-metal-glass</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of skyscrapers proudly pointing at the sky? Incomparable</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">with a patch of weeds, nature’s miracles of renewal.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">How proud we are of our empty metallic constructions</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">that will rust in the jungle, abandoned, like stone pyramids</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of the Mayas, shrouded by vibrant green of leaves and</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">branches. Thousands of years of human fame obliterated</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">by the steady, living, fertile abundance, the overflowing</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">force of life, of matter, our Mother.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Roots, shoots and tendrils spread out, germinate,</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">flow through the soil in search of water, nutrients,</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">life, more life, ever growing, ever richer, dancing,</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">singing the abundance of being</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the song of creation</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we are</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span> <span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we are</span> <span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we are</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we are all </span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we are one</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">one</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">one</span><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">First published in <i>Quill and Parchment</i>, May 2022</span></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFd698y3uAYp3KXKvVARYQQoWRgZba7hoXUpPUMB9paT5BtkVrKxnVxZU3v6gCeAOb4TpmypnKO3obxOYp7VQ0Xbeyow-rMvAwhmDBE8dYvNkpRjdi0lFTwmk9af4Cav68FYyQY70TJCUbF2mI8bjcQ9yGmLfOx38JeDLKRYepCBS0IEsD6oUgN2Zu/s968/bright%20babie2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="968" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFd698y3uAYp3KXKvVARYQQoWRgZba7hoXUpPUMB9paT5BtkVrKxnVxZU3v6gCeAOb4TpmypnKO3obxOYp7VQ0Xbeyow-rMvAwhmDBE8dYvNkpRjdi0lFTwmk9af4Cav68FYyQY70TJCUbF2mI8bjcQ9yGmLfOx38JeDLKRYepCBS0IEsD6oUgN2Zu/w400-h300/bright%20babie2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">BABIE LATO</span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Diamonds</span></b><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"><br /><span antiqua="" arial="" font-family:="" mso-bidi-font-family:="" ook="" quot="" serif=""><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">There is Universe within my heart</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">A myriad galaxies dance in my mind</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">I’m a microcosm of Divine design</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In a seashell there is an ocean</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In dark coal mine white diamonds grow</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In your eyes I find ageless wisdom</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">The One Love that sustains us all</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In your guilt I see my darkness</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In your beauty</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">radiance and light</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">In your voice</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">the calling, the calling</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Mountain air on a spring morning</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">Sparkling diamonds, radiant and pure</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-color-alt: windowtext; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">—</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;">For all forevers you enfold me in Love</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-color-alt: windowtext;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">First published in <i>Rose Always, </i>rev. ed. 2020</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwLx54EMcLb_a3LTiElsy67QDl0WT4Ls4kDsXZyNgd5QvVR6TcS_pGnx8pHp1emhvrQdLnmZrpjdP_DGYB7ZHRc7dprQExkd1Ki1RuwxYCpcRq94xsYmUKG4aHWIZRdhsURgfO8BEFwY9VAM5UiPNJ9g5BMPPpxIHw0b80ipEkdi5OJh9sMX-hvDV/s968/bright%20fall2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="726" data-original-width="968" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwLx54EMcLb_a3LTiElsy67QDl0WT4Ls4kDsXZyNgd5QvVR6TcS_pGnx8pHp1emhvrQdLnmZrpjdP_DGYB7ZHRc7dprQExkd1Ki1RuwxYCpcRq94xsYmUKG4aHWIZRdhsURgfO8BEFwY9VAM5UiPNJ9g5BMPPpxIHw0b80ipEkdi5OJh9sMX-hvDV/w400-h300/bright%20fall2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">AUTUMN - JESIEN</span></b></div></b><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #a50021; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">The Aril<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">“Aril” is the word for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Not “arid”—as in the desert of wasted years, hours.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Not “arduous” —as in working so hard every day<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">to make ends meet. These ends, they never meet, anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Just aril. As in my garden at noon. As in ruby-bright<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">pomegranate shining in full sunlight. A jewel bowl<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">of arils I pick from exploded fruit to freeze for winter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">A handful of overripe arils that taste rejuvenating,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">like fine wine. Tartly-sweet juice stains my fingers<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">burgundy-red—or should I say, aril-red?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">Oh, the delight of untold riches!<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">You watch me blissfully chew the seeds<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">and say in disbelief: “You eat them whole? Really?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">When I was a boy, my brother told me that<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">trees would grow out of my ears if I swallowed<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">pomegranate seed—huge trees would grow<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">and grow and grow and grow…”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 8pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">We laugh at the vision of these arid, forgotten years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">It was an arduous journey that took us through<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">the wilderness to this vivid moment of sharing<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">this magic, life-giving nectar of arils,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif;">ruby-red arils.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WoLRcZIpe2x9GuomV_IM23tPLcm-1NWrjpB_qqHzZfZtxDPT8feln5TBqPZ2VHtOPR8a_f293dXgiXSQRXe9AnkFLunvPjxBcIbpi9VhnM3UQ6GAClKGrnOLQkSzZHRlzdbbj6pitFDWsk37P-uX6lLSBVC732i1NKQSRrl9vcspTQaaf9vlhuwx/s422/brightwinter1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="422" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WoLRcZIpe2x9GuomV_IM23tPLcm-1NWrjpB_qqHzZfZtxDPT8feln5TBqPZ2VHtOPR8a_f293dXgiXSQRXe9AnkFLunvPjxBcIbpi9VhnM3UQ6GAClKGrnOLQkSzZHRlzdbbj6pitFDWsk37P-uX6lLSBVC732i1NKQSRrl9vcspTQaaf9vlhuwx/w400-h300/brightwinter1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>WINTER - ZIMA</b></div></span><p></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in;"><b><span style="color: #7030a0; font-family: "Viner Hand ITC"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 19.9733px; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Arbor Cosmica<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ~ for my children</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">No fear, no hate, not even a mild dislike*—</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">we leave our heavy burdens, shards of memories<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">broken, all too broken, at the bottom of crystal stairs<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">beneath clouds of white camellias, petals swirling<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">through air like the snow of forgetfulness<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Perfect symmetry of blossoms<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">points the way—up, up, always up<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">rainbow crystal stairs, revealed<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">one by one as we ascend—inwards,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">outwards—dancing spirals of our DNA<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We get to know this place—these depths,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">these heights—for once, for all lifetimes<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With each step, pure notes resonate<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">and expand into clear, spacious chords—<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the music of the spheres rings out, wave by wave<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">expanding from our open hearts<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Each chord—harmonious, different—<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">each melody in this vast symphony<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">sweetly twines around another, and another<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">until all are One Song, One Wisdom—<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">of stem and flower, of leaf and root<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">in this Cosmic Tree of humanity<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Arbor Cosmica—</span></i><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We have been here<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">all along without knowing<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">First published in the <i>California Quarterly</i> 46:4, 2019</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmNhimF-YwOTsAxbfjNtlUCUexKBcZIDs16Pmcf9xwKlxquwoR3ubj6cFdrZdLuECa_voRG2MFhT8_AP7eWWVL1MTizKAXLOir_jiZqZemrPV6E6o2BztvYDpO5ofRF1xc9uRLXHDg_GtG-dFceRBcOSk-rE6y_LTtERv5SL3dTfN4sE1CpwlI-nn/s292/brightme.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="292" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmNhimF-YwOTsAxbfjNtlUCUexKBcZIDs16Pmcf9xwKlxquwoR3ubj6cFdrZdLuECa_voRG2MFhT8_AP7eWWVL1MTizKAXLOir_jiZqZemrPV6E6o2BztvYDpO5ofRF1xc9uRLXHDg_GtG-dFceRBcOSk-rE6y_LTtERv5SL3dTfN4sE1CpwlI-nn/s1600/brightme.jpg" width="292" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maja Trochimczyk with Grandson Adam, 2019</div><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Maja Trochimczyk, PhD, is a Polish American poet, music historian, photographer, and non-profit director. She is the author/editor of eight books on music and Polish culture in Polish and English, as well as five poetry volumes and four anthologies, most recently We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology (co-edited with Marlene Hitt, 2020). A former Poet Laureate of Sunland-Tujunga, she is the founder of Moonrise Press, President of the California State Poetry Society, Managing Editor of the California Quarterly and Poetry Letter published by the CSPS, and President of the Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club, promoting Polish culture in California. Hundreds of her poems, articles and book chapters appeared in English, Polish, and in a variety of translations. She presented her research at over 90 international conferences and received many awards from Polish, Canadian and American institutions. Among other honors, she is the winner of the Creative Arts Prize from the Polish American Historical Association (2016) for her two books about Polish civilian experience during WW II and its aftermath, Slicing the Bread and The Rainy Bread. Since 2010, she has maintained a series of blogs on poetry, Polish history and culture, with a total readership of over 970,000 visitors: <a href="http://moonrisepress.com">moonrisepress.com</a>; <a href="http://californiastatepoetrysociety.com">californiastatepoetrysociety.com</a>; <a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com">poetrylaurels.blogspot.com</a>; <a href="http://chopinwithcherries.blogspot.com">chopinwithcherries.blogspot.com</a>, etc. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyphn7R9_kDTSyX7pGXwKaEXuxo-GvjssJ1KzHFR7EmwPxUDGHDWg6GXcmncVsircBzqxH8h31dFKRQU96amH8qjVFKCbnJFYMgwMfXwFIEDdpYAogWnv8Xi0EXEgcnAk7hf_afMkcU00Vq7n6ic-AXJ-89NC7zfBSco3Hmoi0xkuJ0z-PMWPVv_Ni/s563/brightwinter2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="422" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyphn7R9_kDTSyX7pGXwKaEXuxo-GvjssJ1KzHFR7EmwPxUDGHDWg6GXcmncVsircBzqxH8h31dFKRQU96amH8qjVFKCbnJFYMgwMfXwFIEDdpYAogWnv8Xi0EXEgcnAk7hf_afMkcU00Vq7n6ic-AXJ-89NC7zfBSco3Hmoi0xkuJ0z-PMWPVv_Ni/w300-h400/brightwinter2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua",serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span><div><p><br /></p></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-64989863337897014932022-06-09T13:48:00.006-07:002022-06-26T12:56:45.200-07:00Summer Fun - Writing Silly Limericks with My Grandson Adam<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu8-BZDI748mAHJgNaCmHzC62A9hW4LWPYjlVQv4bC3oqjTkZVkkrnqkVp537NadILieI3lQOqbjGuMs2V_2kYOf9zxUTTemvQWa1-ifmvaBSBhnN6Hzaod4aZ39P0uPaH5kLMNtNhraRn8VwRpamLuLu3BcVUGyuoOn-xuIPpRwFRl4UsbR3DPBK/s292/portraitgrandson.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="292" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu8-BZDI748mAHJgNaCmHzC62A9hW4LWPYjlVQv4bC3oqjTkZVkkrnqkVp537NadILieI3lQOqbjGuMs2V_2kYOf9zxUTTemvQWa1-ifmvaBSBhnN6Hzaod4aZ39P0uPaH5kLMNtNhraRn8VwRpamLuLu3BcVUGyuoOn-xuIPpRwFRl4UsbR3DPBK/s1600/portraitgrandson.jpg" width="292" /></a></div><br />When I was a student in Poland, high school or college, I had to work extra hard during the year, since I attended two schools simultaneously, regular high school with math-physics profile, and music high school in the afternoons. Most days, I left home at 7:30am and got back at 8pm or so, taking a tram from one school to another. I only had time for serious reading, assigned novels or textbooks, and for working on projects and studying for exams. <div><br /></div><div>But as soon as school was out in the middle of June, fun reading began. For summer vacations I travelled to the homes of my grandparents in two Polish villages, Trzebieszow near Lukow in Podlasie region north west of Lublin and Bielewicze near Grodek Bialostocki 10 km from the Soviet border. There, I read summer novels, fantasy, science fiction, and romances in that order, and lots of silly periodicals, like <i>Przekroj </i>with their light-weight stories and fun news tid-bits. The "summer is for fun" reading mode ended by September 1, the start day of the next school year. <p></p><p>Fast forward to today. I do not have the time to ever use up my vacation days. At one point I did not accrue any vacation days for the whole year, fixed at 240 hours. I can take a day or two off here and there, but a whole week, month or two months? Never! There is so much to do and so many things I'm responsible for. Then, on weekends and in the evenings, I do my own volunteer work, presiding over two nonprofit organizations, publishing books, organizing poetry readings and other events... So the year is a blur of work, work, work... with some small intermissions of gardening, walks in the park, or day trips to the beach... Not much "light-weight" stuff is going on. </p><p>But these moments of taking the mind off the difficult challenges of life and the endless stream of daily responsibilities - I must, I must, I must... are so precious and delightful. Recently, I spent two afternoons with my 5.5 year old grandson, Adam. On the first day, he asked me where was the "long noses" book - which is Edward Lear 's set of funny limericks with grotesque drawings for illustrations. Since I did not have it with me, I explained what a limerick is and made-up an example, that I completed with Adam's help. He then proceeded to creating a series of limericks on his own. On another day, as we were walking back from the park, I was on the roll singing children's songs in Polish to the baby, 9 months old Aurelia. Then, I switched to my favorite American nonsense song: "There was an old lady..." Adam promptly added four more stanzas, and now the song is much longer. Enjoy!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TxWbxQwmTpIggTm4Fw-92d7ZLpmH1aor6k_HGZ2VU8bVZuYPbssDPwMRX_VbHQ_1olmU-yHf-VHv8xC2tLENFBj_qh3-8c1DxuZrXDV2YshuPcrrC1xGVJZciKAOc3dZk3fv5GvIx4b0yNMH8GbX_-GcgI5aiPbiVUgIgrYyyuzTxqSlyT8j9Idg/s1280/1%20AdamBeach2019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TxWbxQwmTpIggTm4Fw-92d7ZLpmH1aor6k_HGZ2VU8bVZuYPbssDPwMRX_VbHQ_1olmU-yHf-VHv8xC2tLENFBj_qh3-8c1DxuZrXDV2YshuPcrrC1xGVJZciKAOc3dZk3fv5GvIx4b0yNMH8GbX_-GcgI5aiPbiVUgIgrYyyuzTxqSlyT8j9Idg/w400-h300/1%20AdamBeach2019.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandma and 3-year old Adam on the beach, Manhattan Beach, 2019</div><p>My first sample limerick used the location from Edward Lear's book plus, of course, an absurd long-nose story: </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was an old man of Timbuktu</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>who did not know what to do</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> so he pulled on his nose</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and made it a hose,</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>this old man of Timbuktu.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoBgDikZpPLLXvhExUV7it2mDuA0dCmNASKOVzeBZcvErmj3eRW3gQWyPRy5ju9eBxCXn7dFF0pOhxEVbrIFpkJ35boKk6VB6uYvyJk3Wj5wp5U_omYGIQ1EJ2-oX6vntoD3Xt0Bqa8jDoCfrDvgGSKPP4gX70CTJZtvsvyjUuw58KiImEyMYBQr8b/s2016/IMG_0040%20(1).JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoBgDikZpPLLXvhExUV7it2mDuA0dCmNASKOVzeBZcvErmj3eRW3gQWyPRy5ju9eBxCXn7dFF0pOhxEVbrIFpkJ35boKk6VB6uYvyJk3Wj5wp5U_omYGIQ1EJ2-oX6vntoD3Xt0Bqa8jDoCfrDvgGSKPP4gX70CTJZtvsvyjUuw58KiImEyMYBQr8b/w400-h300/IMG_0040%20(1).JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A Box of Limericks by 5.5 year old Adam<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p>I explained to Adam that a limericks has five lines, two in pairs and an extra that wraps it up, the first two are a set-up and description of status quo, the next two - action and result, and the final line the conclusion, or morale of the story. Then Adam helped making up the following limerick, by adding the middle lines, starting from the kitten in the second line:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was a little girl in the city</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>who really wanted a kitten.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> When the kitten said "meow"</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> she did not know how</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>so she left the kitten in the city.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>That was good, so Adam moved on to his own. You have to admit, the boy has imagination:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>T<i>here was a little boy with a snake</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>that had a terrible tummy ache.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> And he put it in a cage</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> so it did not eat his page.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>That little boy with a snake.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>Now Adam was on the roll and came up with this:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was an old man in a plane</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>who ate all of his candy cane.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> He made his nose too long</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and was completely wrong.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>This silly old man in a plane. </i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>As you see we are still in the "long-nose" subject matter that seems to be pre-eminent in the limerick genre for Adam, taught that by absurd illustrations in Edward Lear book of nonsense rhyme. . . </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkydjdge_hgGDIHDHdXngqSk74gSKjAsiWmyPdazlnpNxspJy-8iuzk99Y8ex_o4RGVC9ruQsrS2Wad_0CZtOhW3LlONxuAqWxClzmMfG_rgtUtKkNXLHrOZce6GgHF-M_QTvym-Mu9Hz_zxTz9sXqbBZgJBNKueKzKWv668GBGl9GEoLHMLIB7A_/s2016/IMG_0043.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDkydjdge_hgGDIHDHdXngqSk74gSKjAsiWmyPdazlnpNxspJy-8iuzk99Y8ex_o4RGVC9ruQsrS2Wad_0CZtOhW3LlONxuAqWxClzmMfG_rgtUtKkNXLHrOZce6GgHF-M_QTvym-Mu9Hz_zxTz9sXqbBZgJBNKueKzKWv668GBGl9GEoLHMLIB7A_/w300-h400/IMG_0043.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p>So he moved on to another idea. We had a discussion about the middle lines in the next limerick, since I wanted them to be slightly less scatological, you know, the toilet humor that little boys revel in:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was a young man who was smart,</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>so he always wanted to fart.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> His farts were smelly</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and he peed on his belly.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>This young man who was smart.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>I thought maybe we should say in the middle something less gross:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p> <i> he ate too much jelly</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> so his farts were smelly</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>But Adam was adamant about the wording, and he'd have none of that. So there. </p><p>At this point in time, I started writing down the limericks Adam made up, so he took a crayon and wrote another one in shorthand (just some letters per word), with his own illustrations:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was a young man called Candy Cane</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>that he saw a big hurricane</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and he lost his sock</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> as he went for a walk</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>This young man in the hurricane.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFDPAM6WgzrYYz9Pv1geeiPPU411fRmNnQALTJJCsJoMmMTP7lm6E_CoEh25rWAnFQO9UqAs1l1IP6fzaPZCV076f98lu7EmyizG38pVq3SD22776ctAi8FiuYuUNeXSozct1iLp5pAbnlVGv8g-Ed2GkkyAaHvzlYX4OUKo7uYks6UEWwfId-NCh/s2016/IMG_0049%20(1).JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFDPAM6WgzrYYz9Pv1geeiPPU411fRmNnQALTJJCsJoMmMTP7lm6E_CoEh25rWAnFQO9UqAs1l1IP6fzaPZCV076f98lu7EmyizG38pVq3SD22776ctAi8FiuYuUNeXSozct1iLp5pAbnlVGv8g-Ed2GkkyAaHvzlYX4OUKo7uYks6UEWwfId-NCh/w400-h300/IMG_0049%20(1).JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;">The young man had just one sock on in the picture, of course. Not surprisingly, this limerick and the next one that Adam made up were variant of the "candy cane in the plane" limerick. Children like stretching their fun, by creating variants of a pleasant or amusing experience. This is one of the secrets of children's playing games. Adults seem to lose this talent. </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was an old man on the plane</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>who was the travelers' bane</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> for his ran out of his chair</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and bumped the pilot everywhere</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>this silly old man on the plane.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><p>Adam forgot to insert the second line, so I suggested adding t<i>he travelers' bane</i> since it went well with attacking the pilot. Adam approved, so here it is. </p><p>Finally, since we had played a Totoro Mail Service earlier - with a plush Totoro delivering a FedEx envelope with a picture of a robot helper and a crocodile inside - the Totoro appeared in the limerick as well, also illustrated by Adam.</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>There was a Totoro and a boy</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>who wanted to find a good toy.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> They jumped over the fence</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i> and found a two-pence</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>this Totoro and the boy.</i></p></blockquote></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNB2shPrJnNNisAYjsp2U104ZBBQXOKi5iHZvo-JZUXHk-sH9om6WqPsI5EG5k4nEuVinL8twR0Ofn4JzEeahpDej6geRHrffOvUnnoC9SUPY_6QZzTfOPDDDMmvOi7PFqSlNLmauZEZBGbM5AZOWrr-XoGh9ey-dkF7dXOrgL4ZlDZN9cZ8BD54Ol/s640/IMG_0051.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNB2shPrJnNNisAYjsp2U104ZBBQXOKi5iHZvo-JZUXHk-sH9om6WqPsI5EG5k4nEuVinL8twR0Ofn4JzEeahpDej6geRHrffOvUnnoC9SUPY_6QZzTfOPDDDMmvOi7PFqSlNLmauZEZBGbM5AZOWrr-XoGh9ey-dkF7dXOrgL4ZlDZN9cZ8BD54Ol/w400-h300/IMG_0051.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Since I love Totoros (benevolent, furry spirits of the forest that appear and disappear at will, see the animated film of that title), I like this particular limerick the most. It is a classic. </p><p>I wanted to take Adam's drawing for it home, but Adam folded the three limericks he wrote out and packed them in the crocodile chocolate box. These were his limericks after all. I was only allowed to take the robot. I like inserting these pictures, with dates, between various documents, for fun. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfqY9VwZq1skCEvlKBSV03Pfl2Bfd7SNpnyOhlSKHrjOwSQFBU6tb_2Nu0uoLGcdWvVCW6Zk6Ag5N-PaE2aPQJBq08hMn-GxrphHlhK25KbLIy-MxvIWiFbhp7-6cow7Yy8dfBMAGE735b6L1kW7oFPlYeqZhOsHxO8trD8xMrrmBeHvt4SQpjIXKE/s1280/IMG_9407.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfqY9VwZq1skCEvlKBSV03Pfl2Bfd7SNpnyOhlSKHrjOwSQFBU6tb_2Nu0uoLGcdWvVCW6Zk6Ag5N-PaE2aPQJBq08hMn-GxrphHlhK25KbLIy-MxvIWiFbhp7-6cow7Yy8dfBMAGE735b6L1kW7oFPlYeqZhOsHxO8trD8xMrrmBeHvt4SQpjIXKE/w300-h400/IMG_9407.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p>Let's fast forward to the singing day. Ever since my kids attended a folk performance at the La Crescenta public library where an old woman with a dulcimer (American folk harp or auto harp) sang it in a plaintive tone with lots of rubato and suspension of movement, I absolutely love the song "There was an old woman who swallowed a fly..." there is something so completely absurd and imaginative in this song, that I loved singing it to the kids even without the dulcimer. Here's the original version:</p><p><br /></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a fly.</i></p><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a spider.</i></p><p><i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a bird.</i></p><p><i>How absurd to swallow a bird.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote><p> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a cat</i></p><p><i>Just fancy that, to swallow a cat!</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote><p> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p><i>There was an old woman that swallowed a dog</i></p><p><i>Oh, what a hog, to swallow a dog!</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote><p> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p></blockquote><p> <i>There was an old woman who swallowed a goat</i><br /></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>She opened her throat to swallow a goat.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the goat to catch the dog </i> </blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote><i> She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote></blockquote><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird</i><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote></blockquote><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote><p> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"> </blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a cow</i></p><p><i>I don't know how she swallowed a cow.</i></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the </i><i>cow to catch the goat</i></blockquote><i> She swallowed the goat to catch the dog </i> <br /><i> She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird</i><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"></blockquote><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote><p> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></p><p><br /></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p><i></i></p><p><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a horse...</i></p><p><i>She died - of course!</i></p></blockquote><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByetlhLQxHk-gjw8tREokm9LTozyiGGE1HIRqiPEimWK0UmUTmbQsVarfGs-Qy9JwFTafQ8FMNMAlJSCnDMOddeoypXWjrb2SrG8NMaG0ComW9uYkaPVP3olrdD4qtGL5sL6mb3hQbHWoI7qHCsHvSApkkwnxVOX0orLo5k2dwiBHTyMFjwSIshfb/s1200/X5846_-_ackordcittra_-_Adolf_Larsson_-_f%C3%B6re_1904_-_foto_Sofi_Sykfont.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="1200" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByetlhLQxHk-gjw8tREokm9LTozyiGGE1HIRqiPEimWK0UmUTmbQsVarfGs-Qy9JwFTafQ8FMNMAlJSCnDMOddeoypXWjrb2SrG8NMaG0ComW9uYkaPVP3olrdD4qtGL5sL6mb3hQbHWoI7qHCsHvSApkkwnxVOX0orLo5k2dwiBHTyMFjwSIshfb/w400-h266/X5846_-_ackordcittra_-_Adolf_Larsson_-_f%C3%B6re_1904_-_foto_Sofi_Sykfont.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><i>Chord Zither, manufacturers Adolf Larsson, before 1904. Photo Sofi Sykfont. Included in Musik- och teatermuseet (Music and Theatre Museum)'s instrument collection. Wikimedia Commons.<br /></i><p>I found this song online, but the word "woman" was replaced by "lady" in most versions. Everyone knows that ladies do not swallow cats, cows and goats, so it should have been "woman" not "lady" - but that's an issue for another discussion, of replacement language on the Internet. BTW, do you know that the word "lamb" in the famous image of "lion with a lamb" of eternal peace in the Bible was replaced by "kid"? As in kid-goat? As if goats were not symbols of evil, "scapegoats" carrying the sins of the Israelite community into the desert. So there should be a "lamb" not a "kid" in the Bible... and a "woman" not a "lady" in the song. But who made the change? And why? Let's leave this topic to another day.</p><div>So, to return to my story, I was singing quite loudly as we were walking home; singing shortens the distance, as it is well known. When I reached the end with "horse" and "died of course" - Adam said - "That's it? That's too short." And he sang: "There was an old woman who swallowed a whale and she grew a tail..." At which point I burst out laughing in the middle of the crosswalk, startling the drivers, who smiled at Grandma and Grandson having so much fun together. We sang:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a whale.</i></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><i><br /></i></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><i>She grew a tail for she swallowed the whale. </i></div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><i><br /></i></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the whale to catch the horse</i> </blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the horse to catch the cow</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the </i><i>cow to catch the goat</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>She swallowed the goat to catch the dog </i> </blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i> She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider</i></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> <i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><i><br /></i></div><div>That was very satisfactory indeed. Well done, Adam! But we had to deal with the horse, I reminded the boy, since it was the horse that had to chase after the cow and the swallowing had to be successful, so that the old woman could continue her grotesque behavior. Here's what Adam came up with:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a horse</i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>On the obstacle course, she swallowed the horse.</i></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the horse to catch the cow</i></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the </i><i>cow to catch the goat</i></blockquote><i> She swallowed the goat to catch the dog </i> </blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i> She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird<br /></i><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider<br /></i></blockquote></blockquote></div></div></blockquote><p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i></i><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><i><br /></i></div></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i></div></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCk4b3y3FXpfQ1xt4vpanliwbTraS2PKlsDuzfyi-oU68joyR2CHbcvReSR8LbrD3sAzTKCMY9kV5UfHJ-rB6UG4WduO_vX_qmqGgpAScJND-QNXWofVVEWbm-oOJ2xiEAbttROr5nqqynmqPsSRi1OUUCCHX4dTAyvCPrgytm2pkpovWdEhunAgLu/s4032/IMG_5449.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCk4b3y3FXpfQ1xt4vpanliwbTraS2PKlsDuzfyi-oU68joyR2CHbcvReSR8LbrD3sAzTKCMY9kV5UfHJ-rB6UG4WduO_vX_qmqGgpAScJND-QNXWofVVEWbm-oOJ2xiEAbttROr5nqqynmqPsSRi1OUUCCHX4dTAyvCPrgytm2pkpovWdEhunAgLu/w300-h400/IMG_5449.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>That was very good, and we reached home by then. But... I reminded Adam, the size difference between the horse and the whale was too large, maybe we could add some more large animals to the story? We tried bison, buffalo, and elephant, but none of the words rhymed with anything we found even remotely funny, so we moved on. In the garden, Adam decided to try even larger sizes, with the following result:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>There was an old woman who swallowed a monster.</i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>She missed her concert, for she swallowed the monster. </i></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /><i>She swallowed the monster to catch the whale</i></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the whale to catch the horse</i> </blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the horse to catch the cow</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the </i><i>cow to catch the goat</i></blockquote><i> She swallowed the goat to catch the dog </i> </blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i> She swallowed the dog to catch the cat</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i>She swallowed the cat to catch the bird<br /></i><i>She swallowed the bird to catch the spider<br /></i></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <span> </span></span><i>That wiggled and jiggled and giggled inside her.</i></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><i></i><i>She swallowed the spider to catch the fly</i></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!</i><i><span> </span><span> </span></i></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><i><br /></i></div><div>OK, everyone knows that monsters are different sizes and one could easily be larger than the blue whale, so indeed this monster could swallow the whale. But Adam wanted to go global, an important task in the age of globalization of everything. His choice line was "There was an old woman who swallowed the Earth giant" - but I did not like it, it was too long and did not have another line to go with it. I suggested we repeat the Earth and put the "giant" into the second line. Here's the end result:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>There was an old woman who swallowed the Earth.</i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>She choke to death on the giant Earth,</i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>and the whale and the monster, and cow, dog, goat, cat and the horse...</i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i><br /></i></div></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div><div><i>She died, or course! </i></div></div></blockquote></blockquote><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Well, I'm pretty sure these were the two most productive poetic afternoon I spent in recent months. And the many times we laughed out loud while making up these silly rhymes? So incredibly, fantastically, unexpectedly heart-warming. The world glowed around us, full of creativity and love. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hJma6ZJaJ46_u3MZSBBW0x5vSQuqk0gQeWq3Nc29-tDKVXqAU1Dg2UKY1er0gJXO3A9ycQP5W4gvd_ywY4_aOJpXSWuqtD7YqPOAqZWkyVOzmREsTkehzwHIZ2DKluZeHUoKZVP_9ntFAVf0YHidmYa418-uKDk3W-QBWr9Im4e9qhbV2ZgLoWns/s4032/IMG_7585.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hJma6ZJaJ46_u3MZSBBW0x5vSQuqk0gQeWq3Nc29-tDKVXqAU1Dg2UKY1er0gJXO3A9ycQP5W4gvd_ywY4_aOJpXSWuqtD7YqPOAqZWkyVOzmREsTkehzwHIZ2DKluZeHUoKZVP_9ntFAVf0YHidmYa418-uKDk3W-QBWr9Im4e9qhbV2ZgLoWns/w400-h300/IMG_7585.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Building the forest and "Wild Things" from "Where the Wild Things Are" 2020</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>BONUS ON RECORDINGS</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a version by Burl Ives, pretty old-fashioned, with "I know an old lady" to start with, and the spider that "tickled" inside her... The melody is almost perfect.</div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQHmZMf6zwo">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQHmZMf6zwo</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Another old recording, by Tracy Newman done in 1965, does not have "fancy that" but "imagine that"</div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SfbNNrILrF4">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SfbNNrILrF4</a></div><div><br /></div><div>A fairly faithful animated rendition appeared in a nursery rhymes series: </div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApmEM9-xA2c">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApmEM9-xA2c</a></div><div><br /></div><div>In contrast to these traditional renditions, the newer updates do not allow the old "lady" to die so she can only "cry" instead of dying at the end. This editorial change defeats the whole purpose of the rhyme - to familiarize children with the fact of death in a humorous way, without fear or horror. So when it was time for the "horse" - the rhyme was changed to "I'm joking, of course." Ridiculous. </div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkefHONq-6I">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkefHONq-6I</a></div><div><br /></div><div>But interestingly, the animation of an "old lady" swallowing all these things was pretty gruesome, and the lady herself not old but rather middle aged in a gray wig, showing a bias against old people. Plus she definitely was not dressed as a lady, wearing leggins, Ugh boots and an oversized sweater. Lady? She looked quite fashion-challenged! You want to have a lady? Dress her in a fancy dress, hat, with pearls, gloves, high heels and a lovely sun -umbrella and then make her swallow a cow... That would be an image to laugh about. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you do not know what a Totoro is, below you find a photo of my other granddaughter, Juniper at four months encountering a plush Totoro for the first time. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ni5_My5tphkKLWzlqnZdvY2wvrpwxqTOndcxvnz1e5cLCw1qLe0yKrU0ZWDWoEcDvvt2FD5CEoOVo1qqpQ-F3qHicnmcKfhgiNnEAwIU1wI11YO63TUTtd0ZgKiIQn_mpUuc45-aK9XiIC4tlO_CH9a-fMxGZZuLv7ktV3le3eUJPTuRFuRq-AE9/s4032/IMG_7341.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Ni5_My5tphkKLWzlqnZdvY2wvrpwxqTOndcxvnz1e5cLCw1qLe0yKrU0ZWDWoEcDvvt2FD5CEoOVo1qqpQ-F3qHicnmcKfhgiNnEAwIU1wI11YO63TUTtd0ZgKiIQn_mpUuc45-aK9XiIC4tlO_CH9a-fMxGZZuLv7ktV3le3eUJPTuRFuRq-AE9/w400-h300/IMG_7341.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Baby Juniper and the Totoro</div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-7352845032498448862022-04-18T20:30:00.007-07:002022-04-27T13:13:57.604-07:00Spring Cleaning in The Year of Crystal Fire, Easter 2022 <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK797TRbbWv74QNDEsqnuYFcKIiQ7lJoQ45tZU24KWCgEoXxE04Tbgk6UxohpoUMLLhU0aYyk8VwsY_PkZU0ToVtSz4nMRG1WJODQfRlcSQH2ycjkZ4ZrW3k_6ehsyAoMLsTaihHczQGubGutBoGF-_Tisv2V0H8yWXOKMdUeO3xFJokp2qbW3cdjv/s4032/IMG_9657.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK797TRbbWv74QNDEsqnuYFcKIiQ7lJoQ45tZU24KWCgEoXxE04Tbgk6UxohpoUMLLhU0aYyk8VwsY_PkZU0ToVtSz4nMRG1WJODQfRlcSQH2ycjkZ4ZrW3k_6ehsyAoMLsTaihHczQGubGutBoGF-_Tisv2V0H8yWXOKMdUeO3xFJokp2qbW3cdjv/w400-h300/IMG_9657.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>It is so good to be sixty-four. My daughter sang me the Beatles' song on the beach, with ukulele, delightful belated birthday gifts during all too rare family encounter. We live too far apart, I do not like calling, the phone traumatized me when I was just four year old - that black box on the wall is my aunt? And the fear persisted, reducing my conversations to 20 seconds - what do you need? Which street corner should I drive up to pick you up? Do I need to stop to buy bread and milk? This sort of thing, not thoughtful, insightful conversations... These are best done in person, in a dialog of souls, during random meetings at poetry readings, champagne lunches, on the beach... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuL6rq-ogcce8fV_AYeRUyokFVZ4rvyTwpJ9nI6H7moVuQUNUtdhORHSvq2bJChD-ljEe2wd3Nh3HpzB57s54sTrCapoIAOnqKRSD0_M2g7XHsesbvB05qRGcB9AygJ2aXp6nft5GFrKDEL7e_BhN_UVXiyl8k2ztvdTlBdLyc7m5TroNUccbk1Wi/s4032/IMG_8524.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsuL6rq-ogcce8fV_AYeRUyokFVZ4rvyTwpJ9nI6H7moVuQUNUtdhORHSvq2bJChD-ljEe2wd3Nh3HpzB57s54sTrCapoIAOnqKRSD0_M2g7XHsesbvB05qRGcB9AygJ2aXp6nft5GFrKDEL7e_BhN_UVXiyl8k2ztvdTlBdLyc7m5TroNUccbk1Wi/w400-h300/IMG_8524.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>We had a lovely event in our community, Passing of the Laurels to the next Poet Laureate of Sunland Tujunga. My term as PL no. 6 was in 2010-2012; this time Pamela Shea passed the laurels to Alice Pero, both accomplished, graceful, insightful poets. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGnNH26MyYAWgtVvz08HH93N3kqD-hngS3K-TPB-khHzpLuhvs_3KhTYHQRKkacsrgVspgCKrjvcZf2p3GrwTD7LRHjtEEDZkOu8IwkvdQc9BBUArXrexHbqoy9KD44SgDeLheuNV_nrV6Y2IgEgY8Z_KX_iof_AfI-ojXlRujWF0LyEE8DfCqbnC/s2048/group.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGnNH26MyYAWgtVvz08HH93N3kqD-hngS3K-TPB-khHzpLuhvs_3KhTYHQRKkacsrgVspgCKrjvcZf2p3GrwTD7LRHjtEEDZkOu8IwkvdQc9BBUArXrexHbqoy9KD44SgDeLheuNV_nrV6Y2IgEgY8Z_KX_iof_AfI-ojXlRujWF0LyEE8DfCqbnC/w400-h300/group.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I brought real laurel leaves in bouquets for poets, and huge artichoke leaves in bouquet of silk flowers, to decorate the stage. Looked pretty enough, they danced in the breeze, making silk blossom seem alive and real. I picked all these leaves and branches from a friend's garden, where I was amazed at the sight of the artichoke plant which made me think of poetry. I told a friend, poet about this experience, and a poem came about. Here it is.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9INzAg6Wv7VJETa62RwYdqv8VyvpoHsTEwmUI4hPGRoGyf3MxcKmQ3S5tla5kB3gGTKnF7yCTh2SkjLM6KfqV4kglDT78FER8VSU3jg5crdPXR55VE33tSbzkfJHVGXb2Fq1jQqEDM30_LXsAqe3LF96SH0TZUS5flU41vSjhRH-t0rvuyMpeKi3/s4032/IMG_9229.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9INzAg6Wv7VJETa62RwYdqv8VyvpoHsTEwmUI4hPGRoGyf3MxcKmQ3S5tla5kB3gGTKnF7yCTh2SkjLM6KfqV4kglDT78FER8VSU3jg5crdPXR55VE33tSbzkfJHVGXb2Fq1jQqEDM30_LXsAqe3LF96SH0TZUS5flU41vSjhRH-t0rvuyMpeKi3/w400-h300/IMG_9229.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8sk8kpYwj38u0Wlzxs-ly_3OSPV-hcYLJBh3eZGgmW8aeTJJdP4t_mKZ2A-NRpHWMSDP5xU6xarvhJs-JbpK_1ScLffBcgVM_Umc4N5lEUv1ffkUauUXSMC-cXjEw_WYt3BW6hjA3D79Q5Gy-F8BL_vZPTMAXFs7IFmxIKUG6y8J3zv7ybhGaAMl/s4032/IMG_9006.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8sk8kpYwj38u0Wlzxs-ly_3OSPV-hcYLJBh3eZGgmW8aeTJJdP4t_mKZ2A-NRpHWMSDP5xU6xarvhJs-JbpK_1ScLffBcgVM_Umc4N5lEUv1ffkUauUXSMC-cXjEw_WYt3BW6hjA3D79Q5Gy-F8BL_vZPTMAXFs7IFmxIKUG6y8J3zv7ybhGaAMl/w400-h300/IMG_9006.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><b>An Artichoke of a Poem</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Writing poetry is like growing </p><p>artichokes, from a seed of invention,</p><p>the code for the unknown, sprouts</p><p>an immense plant, with spreading </p><p>silvery-green fronds of tender beauty – </p><p>poem after poem you spin out and admire,</p><p>so proud of your way with words,</p><p>constructing verbal edifices</p><p>with arduous labor.</p><p><br /></p><p>The heart comes at the end – </p><p>a flower bud no larger than your palm</p><p>that does not even open before you pick it </p><p>to steam and taste bits of elegance </p><p>and sophistication.</p><p><br /></p><p>Hight above your silver tower of gigantic </p><p>soft and spiky leaves – a paradox of a plant, </p><p>really, its purpose beyond comprehension –</p><p>grows just one artichoke, a golden bud </p><p>of a poem where each word is in its place,</p><p>each insight so accurate and keen,</p><p>it pierces the reader’s mind </p><p>with knowing. </p><p><br /></p><p>You discard abundant, decorative</p><p>leaves for compost, to nourish next year’s crop –</p><p>just one gourmet treat, an artichoke of a poem, </p><p>blooming from so many ornamental words </p><p>you string together day after day, until </p><p>the mystery </p><p> reveals itself</p><p> to surprise you</p><p> with its inevitable</p><p> simple grace –</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNCRvgA9oXxw3o79kSImYL0HhcRunHd4DaLCQ0Ub69qOYPEokASt-0ZgAlmplMXqAAVEsz2k80lzFpGnE1FOGM9y745EFXx7NyLQxfq2Ja28furRns_bu0oLQpvZZYTRRiRVkrIkRxoNrOpb8jFG70p41LQU9TEQNVVsW5hnWkopk8QsvTv_9rN-X/s4032/IMG_9194.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNCRvgA9oXxw3o79kSImYL0HhcRunHd4DaLCQ0Ub69qOYPEokASt-0ZgAlmplMXqAAVEsz2k80lzFpGnE1FOGM9y745EFXx7NyLQxfq2Ja28furRns_bu0oLQpvZZYTRRiRVkrIkRxoNrOpb8jFG70p41LQU9TEQNVVsW5hnWkopk8QsvTv_9rN-X/w400-h300/IMG_9194.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0-ll4jwwkXzSTcapGrn2r-05IhFa4m6ekfdwi0EA3KpybCrNSk7GyPhdMmhGmh5n0N9cxiMWN2NYSkeZjGegfHI-BEVCZsBkLgY6NSkaqPP7oIGbIR2l-tcisoCBJjZ7LWoUJQMmiCxtobAP-psSy5MITUNm_CvjPzdyDrj3hZOgtiExU5hSFpWH/s4032/IMG_9131.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0-ll4jwwkXzSTcapGrn2r-05IhFa4m6ekfdwi0EA3KpybCrNSk7GyPhdMmhGmh5n0N9cxiMWN2NYSkeZjGegfHI-BEVCZsBkLgY6NSkaqPP7oIGbIR2l-tcisoCBJjZ7LWoUJQMmiCxtobAP-psSy5MITUNm_CvjPzdyDrj3hZOgtiExU5hSFpWH/w400-h300/IMG_9131.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><p>Well, that was insightful enough for the Poet Laureate of Artichokes and Bay Leaves (another name for Laurels).. . Celebration took a lot longer to organize than to experience. Then it was time to continue the internal dialogue on paper, in a dialog with old, discarded selves. Spring cleaning is good for that. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoLm1h5EUvv9bjOhv2D_NSuj-6rq4zqYQL9T4ktK-AojdGfN5uko82e4U_UM-sbn8r3P1g3P2RhuwClqvPENja-Ot6TiXEkcDr9bcT5OzPJ7PIFE6WUAlcj4sdNGBtGaiUxfvUmk6JbkvAmzcDX8fPpLyD3OTmNigGM-AAAlHgTq3EozhCQKUOWKT/s3024/IMG_9318.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjoLm1h5EUvv9bjOhv2D_NSuj-6rq4zqYQL9T4ktK-AojdGfN5uko82e4U_UM-sbn8r3P1g3P2RhuwClqvPENja-Ot6TiXEkcDr9bcT5OzPJ7PIFE6WUAlcj4sdNGBtGaiUxfvUmk6JbkvAmzcDX8fPpLyD3OTmNigGM-AAAlHgTq3EozhCQKUOWKT/w400-h400/IMG_9318.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPXYJyDvkDGpuxTveCg6IIz5-9_ODR3JaMf4c2v0z8Es8q25peZgmYA63KUCplwjC4CcLIzTaNF0JN7N7wVDxK7DStrqE8vJrEJUo8tx-tR3glQwUqbs8MHaDVgM8ui8oObORSiXUuQgSyQIUnJY2iXMpaH9y4g2FA8CjsC3_tEpWybJCV807u93Y/s4032/IMG_9773.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPXYJyDvkDGpuxTveCg6IIz5-9_ODR3JaMf4c2v0z8Es8q25peZgmYA63KUCplwjC4CcLIzTaNF0JN7N7wVDxK7DStrqE8vJrEJUo8tx-tR3glQwUqbs8MHaDVgM8ui8oObORSiXUuQgSyQIUnJY2iXMpaH9y4g2FA8CjsC3_tEpWybJCV807u93Y/w400-h300/IMG_9773.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>Spring Cleaning</b></p><p><br /></p><p>This morning</p><p>I declawed the cactus, cut the spikes </p><p>from the tips of agave leaves</p><p>so they do not scratch children looking for </p><p>chocolate eggs on Easter.</p><p><br /></p><p>I cleaned out the pantry, sorted out </p><p>one bookshelf and my past</p><p>carefully discarding useless fears</p><p>and fading disappointments. </p><p>I filled the crystal bird dish </p><p>with water for finches, filled my heart </p><p>with affection and delight</p><p><br /></p><p>I arranged lilacs, and daffodils </p><p>into fragrant bouquets, green with </p><p>camellia leaves and palm fronds left over </p><p>from singing Hosanna in the church.</p><p>I arranged mt thoughts</p><p>Into a singular clarity of purpose</p><p>Tranquil lie the pacific at sunset</p><p>With tenderness of immense strength.</p><p><br /></p><p>Now, I only have to breathe in </p><p>noon light, to set old pain, </p><p>anger and resentment on fire</p><p>expel the ashes in a shower of sparks</p><p>with diamond rays so brilliant </p><p>they make me into a supernova</p><p>a revelation, cosmic, bright –</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmChrnQgLxMfm8O-eSgSwqoUBtM2Wf1z-Q3sQtDHypmJBl1rXhVmLWVafrrseY2JgnxWibWHnYkd6uSD0AGnj03hpPs9LZ432y9lZs6_anT_ulfR7xyomU5bD1Ds6NtT3iCIRfbi56Nt1JLv61pFubPhjKf_uhVBNgTiXvYAo9zvsgGHYNe2EVtLN2/s4032/IMG_9317.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmChrnQgLxMfm8O-eSgSwqoUBtM2Wf1z-Q3sQtDHypmJBl1rXhVmLWVafrrseY2JgnxWibWHnYkd6uSD0AGnj03hpPs9LZ432y9lZs6_anT_ulfR7xyomU5bD1Ds6NtT3iCIRfbi56Nt1JLv61pFubPhjKf_uhVBNgTiXvYAo9zvsgGHYNe2EVtLN2/w400-h300/IMG_9317.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Cleaning is necessary and healing. The "cleaning" of past emotions and traumas is done once they do no longer hurt, are not painful, just there, fondly remembered, examined and set aside on a shelf of favorite things - ornamental crystal spheres, a mosaic flower vase from Ravenna, a wooden angel from Krakow, a gold and cobalt teacup and saucer of my Mom, children's photos and music boxes. So, after a long, long, long love story, I could finally write its coda. </p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzr-0zoO7OBprJJ-jgGU_9GbK4VRhxrzGkdn6Pc6MrhKe-N28HDtsI-oHWgD59i5mvM50jpU2IyoyRCJVvfCbgVVuEoV6OTWzAEyd_XW5cxrun_osUaaHaNjaqu2MUjCPbeAa1cvv5K-VYTf-BX5LNj0Kxb7Sp_h-hUwbJy2zu0ZaEsCvTEYRca20/s4032/IMG_9581.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzr-0zoO7OBprJJ-jgGU_9GbK4VRhxrzGkdn6Pc6MrhKe-N28HDtsI-oHWgD59i5mvM50jpU2IyoyRCJVvfCbgVVuEoV6OTWzAEyd_XW5cxrun_osUaaHaNjaqu2MUjCPbeAa1cvv5K-VYTf-BX5LNj0Kxb7Sp_h-hUwbJy2zu0ZaEsCvTEYRca20/w400-h300/IMG_9581.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEtzNcgG4dqEhJN5DrkCgXaaQzr5PxiY1qmi8GqosJZdTTsFnDXKHWnr_kqLZ6WjmPXazvx3ku_x1a321x-VYKaD3SgyFpZJAPMNFHaCdv7qEPPA4_DmOxA2g_Ima_OySmOGnrAVBuaJIfo81tarRixwzYBdh-qdntyH-8q26TUR4i_JpTTOktOHGV/s4032/IMG_9656.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEtzNcgG4dqEhJN5DrkCgXaaQzr5PxiY1qmi8GqosJZdTTsFnDXKHWnr_kqLZ6WjmPXazvx3ku_x1a321x-VYKaD3SgyFpZJAPMNFHaCdv7qEPPA4_DmOxA2g_Ima_OySmOGnrAVBuaJIfo81tarRixwzYBdh-qdntyH-8q26TUR4i_JpTTOktOHGV/w400-h300/IMG_9656.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><b>The Year of Crystal Fire</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Soft patter of pink rose petals </p><p>falling onto the floor. The scent of French Perfume </p><p>in the air. The heartbeat stops. The world ceases its rotations.</p><p><br /></p><p>I see the light in your eyes shining</p><p>through the slit in your motorcycle helmet,</p><p>as you pass me on the street. In a millisecond</p><p>of recognition you take me in – whole, </p><p>serene in turquoise and aqua – then, you look away</p><p>far into the past we shared so shamelessly,</p><p>beyond measure – </p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of passion</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of dogs that brought us together</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of longing</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of dolphins dancing on salty waves </p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of absence</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of waiting in darkness – </p><p> 30-second phone calls answered by a machine</p><p> the year of tiger lilies</p><p> the year of nine-tailed foxes – </p><p> smooth with seduction and delight</p><p><br /></p><p>Yes, I liked that year the most – </p><p>as we grew into our demonic, daimonic selves,</p><p>created new galaxies, parallel universes </p><p>out of our other-worldly love.</p><p><br /></p><p>Timelines shift.</p><p>The cosmic windows </p><p>keep opening and closing.</p><p>Soft patter of pink rose petals </p><p>on the flying carpet </p><p>takes me into</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of passion</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of tiger lilies</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of diamond kites soaring above hilltops</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of stardust</p><p><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>the year of crystal fire</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilYdgqbLOb1eo-7ACM73ZZZg0FENfeAhrpOI0Izd1dfyMUuxcER71TVb9obnc5MLZ_b-H6e9mjmURdJn_2YaKHNOmElwxZkql7UN6vnYO0ZCWJt-oRy5Eq7tmtFunm4abE7kR_NjDU1SkwiDyXqpJxl_aWA7Bn-7AcvPedKooESc66ankM8yrKbyNl/s4032/IMG_9658.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilYdgqbLOb1eo-7ACM73ZZZg0FENfeAhrpOI0Izd1dfyMUuxcER71TVb9obnc5MLZ_b-H6e9mjmURdJn_2YaKHNOmElwxZkql7UN6vnYO0ZCWJt-oRy5Eq7tmtFunm4abE7kR_NjDU1SkwiDyXqpJxl_aWA7Bn-7AcvPedKooESc66ankM8yrKbyNl/w400-h300/IMG_9658.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Remember that our emotions create the world we live in, if I project anger, hurt, resentment, disappointment, regret out to the universe, its cosmic mirror will reflect all these back, so I will get even more reason to feel anger, hurt, resentment, disappointment and regret... But if I project joy, serenity, gratitude and love, I'll be surrounded by even more reasons - people, events, unexpected gifts from cosmos to feel more joy, serenity, gratitude, love. My heart will expand and open. I'll be happy. This "pursuit of happiness" is a guaranteed right in America. How sweet!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpkL1-8CTmml4ek5WHE3MQrYPOUtBopDEg4_nQnoS5Iswclb9BugW28mhjFvAgn0fOKW4Jg5KdUeRQHucSk7di_TQ70KWiJrEF1NYzNBeKWljfoJ97aY-3-XNkxIOdpmwHkfyMKVE20nCuaT0-xPG5fylHiWoNv_t2xT9dSFo97D56UTOMPCskgRP/s4032/IMG_8387.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpkL1-8CTmml4ek5WHE3MQrYPOUtBopDEg4_nQnoS5Iswclb9BugW28mhjFvAgn0fOKW4Jg5KdUeRQHucSk7di_TQ70KWiJrEF1NYzNBeKWljfoJ97aY-3-XNkxIOdpmwHkfyMKVE20nCuaT0-xPG5fylHiWoNv_t2xT9dSFo97D56UTOMPCskgRP/w400-h300/IMG_8387.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Flying kites on the beach and in the mountains:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://youtu.be/cAL_SwHe4A8">https://youtu.be/cAL_SwHe4A8</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/01/lets-go-fly-kite-up-in-bluest-clearest.html">http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/01/lets-go-fly-kite-up-in-bluest-clearest.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/03/flying-kites-is-pure-joy.html">http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/03/flying-kites-is-pure-joy.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Redondo Beach, California</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://youtu.be/R1xV_p2Azec">https://youtu.be/R1xV_p2Azec</a> (Butterfly)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">https://youtu.be/otEVtfnbOGM (Kite Festival)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Mandalay Beach, Oxnard, California </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Three Kites high up in the clouds: <a href="https://youtu.be/foOY2QZmRBc">https://youtu.be/foOY2QZmRBc</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Three Kites, continued: <a href="https://youtu.be/lan3bq45A9s">https://youtu.be/lan3bq45A9s</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Delta Kite solo: <a href="https://youtu.be/-wlQmSbLKRM">https://youtu.be/-wlQmSbLKRM</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Hermosa Beach, dancing kites, soaring high above:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0 " target="_blank">https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0 </a>Three kites in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY">https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY</a> Three kites in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs">https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs</a> Swirling Circle in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Kites in Angeles National Forest mountains, Rim of the Valley Trail:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Diamond Butterfly: <a href="https://youtu.be/ddCJsAOOGlc">https://youtu.be/ddCJsAOOGlc</a> (strong wind, unstable)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Flying Diamond: <a href="https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk">https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk</a> (blue skies)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Swirling Circle: <a href="https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU">https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU</a> (above hills)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Delta Sharkie: <a href="https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8">https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8</a> (chemtrail stripes)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Macaw Parrot: <a href="https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4">https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Blue Butterfly 1: <a href="https://youtu.be/IknSaGveNHo " target="_blank">https://youtu.be/IknSaGveNHo </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Blue Butterfly 2: <a href="https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE">https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Laughing Dolphin 1: <a href="https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE">https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE</a> (skies with chemtrails)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Laughing Dolphin 2: <a href="https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs">https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs</a> (skies with chemtrails)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Laughing Dolphin 3: <a href="https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU">https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU</a> (blue skies, one stripe)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Laughing Dolphin 4: <a href="https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc">https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc</a> (in sunlight)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Laughing Dolphin 5: <a href="https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts ">https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts </a>(dancing around the moon)</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-23547239644063088232022-03-01T11:46:00.003-08:002022-03-01T11:48:40.254-08:00A Tall Glass of Water and Three Blood Oranges - new poems in California Quarterly <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVRZMQIDJu6xkLpP43XH4UI6fbSXXBykOn5lxO0cNnM5rqyajPXAWkw6c5iPRvKeNRvaa7xYNYrkbVlbQxaqJHizyW8T4cH2stPReB0E3vlju63wFyJD-1nG6ELg3NV01mWF76qSLzABtScSplaQ6WTktMkfZbkgVCX1pau0WH-Oa0YDRDzQ3uq7JP=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVRZMQIDJu6xkLpP43XH4UI6fbSXXBykOn5lxO0cNnM5rqyajPXAWkw6c5iPRvKeNRvaa7xYNYrkbVlbQxaqJHizyW8T4cH2stPReB0E3vlju63wFyJD-1nG6ELg3NV01mWF76qSLzABtScSplaQ6WTktMkfZbkgVCX1pau0WH-Oa0YDRDzQ3uq7JP=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br />The seasons in California are so different from the seasons in Poland. It is hard to get used to, and I always feel bewildered, not just delighted, when citrus fruit ripens on my trees in January and February, so I have a juicy supply of Vitamin C and other essential minerals until at least May if not longer. Pink grapefruit, blood oranges and mandarine - first fruit shines in yellow and orange among dark green leaves, then the trees will bloom in April, filling the garden with incredibly sweet fragrance. The lemon tree blooms and gives me lemons year-round, so it is not as surprisingly extraordinary as the other trees. <p></p><p>I celebrate their gifts every morning and wonder why "pink" grapefruit and "blood" orange if they are the same hue inside? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoZHbYp08CrNmu_v_-yqBr9wt9wdwjDPa7V332C6rNcSFklRdvKmNmmA0s2z5yeFb3KbhsbkZmmoiKCEC7rNHNgNowzs9Sz91Aa272dtAWVNcGJslLaQij-Kn2fFCRhe_b6CK4RrwIGsCnYVtOJxO1CT9Eh0xSTSp-tkWaP_txm7vmbx-cSMhf8Ise=s3024" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoZHbYp08CrNmu_v_-yqBr9wt9wdwjDPa7V332C6rNcSFklRdvKmNmmA0s2z5yeFb3KbhsbkZmmoiKCEC7rNHNgNowzs9Sz91Aa272dtAWVNcGJslLaQij-Kn2fFCRhe_b6CK4RrwIGsCnYVtOJxO1CT9Eh0xSTSp-tkWaP_txm7vmbx-cSMhf8Ise=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">FROM MINIUM
CHRONICLES</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><i style="text-indent: 0.5in;">~ for my children</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A tall glass of water and three
oranges, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">three blood oranges from a tree I
planted<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ten years ago in my Sunland garden.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A tall glass of water... Am I a lump of
clay<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">that's returning to Earth? Ashes to
ashes?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The journey's done, nothing remains?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Am I a star of unsung brilliance
hidden in a fragile body –<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">learning, collecting wisdom of
limitation, before <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">my triumphant return to the glory of
timeless Now?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Am I saved? Redeemed? Do I need a
Savior? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Am I my own savior, perhaps? What is
true?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What is real? Ashes to ashes or light into
Light?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A tall glass of water and three blood
oranges<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">for breakfast. I'm grateful for the
knowledge <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">they impart. What I am. What I'm made
of.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The abundance of rain and sweetness
of sunlight<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">fills the fruit with fragrant, rosy
juice, under<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the soft, pliable rind – so lovely
inside and outside.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A fruit of the earth, air, water, fire
nourishes me<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">with elements. The fruit I made that
now makes me <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">full of morning happiness in the winter
rain. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Soothing patter of raindrops on the
patio roof<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">assures me that questions do not
matter,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">answers do not matter either. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 6pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is the NOW of breathing, of tasting
that<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">slightly tart, refreshing orange I
grew, a jewel<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I add to the beads of memories I keep.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">~ Maja Trochimczyk, January 2022</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">Published in California Quarterly 48:1, Spring 2022</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD-iBkQN-cEEz1cjWH_QOoeyO3F_Q05SzzIlA33mSszLIobLduKM1b1Ou_XY-wb3Rl8k9b_1zwtOguIB887c-aGkcHT8wO8DgAOKjg23xomFShfpmUjr_r5MqiugjE3fj3lKKUFiihD6loE10bRh2869o7yEVSCB5B_98jZoSm4Ow-Byx7xXrrAGP7=s3024" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD-iBkQN-cEEz1cjWH_QOoeyO3F_Q05SzzIlA33mSszLIobLduKM1b1Ou_XY-wb3Rl8k9b_1zwtOguIB887c-aGkcHT8wO8DgAOKjg23xomFShfpmUjr_r5MqiugjE3fj3lKKUFiihD6loE10bRh2869o7yEVSCB5B_98jZoSm4Ow-Byx7xXrrAGP7=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>A garden is a shelter, a hermitage, and an oasis of peace and beauty. I have always preferred spending days in my grandparents' village homes than in Warsaw, full of cement, grayness and armies of red tulips in the spring. The chaos of branches, grasses, bushes, the lovely baby blue sky with white puffy clouds overhead - the buzzing of bees and birdsong. I was able to reproduce this beloved landscape of my youth here in California. Not exactly, in some ways missing the mark - no family here, no Polish language or birds - in other ways even better, with astoundingly beautiful hills and intense sunlight, bringing out colors from the sky, trees, flowers. Colors of intensity unheard of in Poland, where, so much further north, everything is subdued as if a dose of melancholy was poured into each color, each flower, each leaf. <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrEVEpzZbcVDz3W7M7oIjiMrL4uF0xEQzF5sfmjBjg978aAtayNUPbyHXZXgugRTBFp9XtIT1SXYapZ54_kARfagAmxy5ZE7VxycdO6a7Rb1zf-qpHslAcP6QjoNVTHfcMto05cCkb-LPfEVRZv_A2txOlXJe_FDKosRsbg1udo9VVF_mtb8HfKPeQ=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrEVEpzZbcVDz3W7M7oIjiMrL4uF0xEQzF5sfmjBjg978aAtayNUPbyHXZXgugRTBFp9XtIT1SXYapZ54_kARfagAmxy5ZE7VxycdO6a7Rb1zf-qpHslAcP6QjoNVTHfcMto05cCkb-LPfEVRZv_A2txOlXJe_FDKosRsbg1udo9VVF_mtb8HfKPeQ=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br />But life surrounding and sustaining us is as vibrant here in California as there in Poland. As vibrant, as life-giving as oxygen that trees make and we breath, as fruit that used to be cherries, apples and pears, but is not orange, grapefruit and pomegranate. Blueberries from the forest, strawberries and raspberries growing by the fence - these are missing, my two American blueberry bushes are not doing well in dry California desert heat. But if we focus on the life of each leaf and petal, the vibrant hues and vibrant energy that they bring, we might forget the chaos and nonsense of cities, full of pollution, aggression, aggravation, and pain.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4feuvWsnmbL02NY0qYRMIVzck6b-ECXosGEL5Jl2BavMa9X6HgAUfxPKrt6RT470h1vs8Rqm5DoDPd_mkTvfsAb9P4GojoTPboKpmVo7LZuEffFA8uTcpJndDvY4JUEZrwrYgMLbdhZsEeQZKXe_11UPpAv2X5IIQlYw8qooTPK70Y1fsZRIzOCzk=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4feuvWsnmbL02NY0qYRMIVzck6b-ECXosGEL5Jl2BavMa9X6HgAUfxPKrt6RT470h1vs8Rqm5DoDPd_mkTvfsAb9P4GojoTPboKpmVo7LZuEffFA8uTcpJndDvY4JUEZrwrYgMLbdhZsEeQZKXe_11UPpAv2X5IIQlYw8qooTPK70Y1fsZRIzOCzk=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Maybe because of the brilliance of California sunlight, I like so much to write poems about light, light without and light within, shining, shining, shining...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVNcNfRTvZpHR23bGkfzWE5sC-5Me9EhsxoARDfjWVAe1PTM8JAcWaj-N7efDmn9OggIEk8KzuVDAzyI_dNr3h_EpPZx5AfnqHA2opCzbqFDw5ok5MRTFxrJOEiNCDHg0fZSYHP18O6JrQRcvjGgCZghd9glH39RhxUQUT6eOH9nrjhkdXwORtu3J4=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVNcNfRTvZpHR23bGkfzWE5sC-5Me9EhsxoARDfjWVAe1PTM8JAcWaj-N7efDmn9OggIEk8KzuVDAzyI_dNr3h_EpPZx5AfnqHA2opCzbqFDw5ok5MRTFxrJOEiNCDHg0fZSYHP18O6JrQRcvjGgCZghd9glH39RhxUQUT6eOH9nrjhkdXwORtu3J4=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Diamonds in the Stream 1" by Maja Trochimczyk</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">PRACTICAL
ADVICE FOR A FRAZZLED PASSER-BY</span></b></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b> </b></p><p class="MsoNormal">When
you reach the nadir of darkness—</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">shine.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When a
stranger pushes you on a sidewalk<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">say,
“Sunshine, smile”—and shine again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Think
of the hand of a newborn resting in your palm,<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">five
fingers smaller than the smallest of yours—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">a
miracle coming into being.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Glow<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">with
the tender infinity <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">of
diamond light flowing out of your heart—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">your
best kept secret—you are the sun, the ascending spiral <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">of
timeless presence—embodied wisdom—infinite charm—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">the
trinity of loving-kindness—the living crystal<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">constantly
reborn, outflowing from the reservoir <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">of
divine grace you did not know you were—are— <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">dazzling
brightness—sparkling, twirling <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">in an
aetheric waltz of nascent cosmos <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">that
comes into being in you—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">through
you—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">with
you—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Say YES<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">so it
comes—comes—comes—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">again—<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>~ Maja Trochimczyk</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>published in <i>California Quarterly</i>, 48:1 (Spring 2022)</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPaorVFOaKpD-MTEoFFQ6HVJ2kR2e2QoaCeC6T5Gk57VpiJfCmcBIcQvJWZRfjQriUJI6s-jaleaU6gMZYrxzshwTC0X6tITArPybIYKXiRIcj04IcJvytYT7yVT6tw5BQQMZP2N6PWul_YYDS56eFPLID_oheVgOOh0EXmoCmdsoQeGfV_74EI_y9=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPaorVFOaKpD-MTEoFFQ6HVJ2kR2e2QoaCeC6T5Gk57VpiJfCmcBIcQvJWZRfjQriUJI6s-jaleaU6gMZYrxzshwTC0X6tITArPybIYKXiRIcj04IcJvytYT7yVT6tw5BQQMZP2N6PWul_YYDS56eFPLID_oheVgOOh0EXmoCmdsoQeGfV_74EI_y9=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Diamonds in the Stream 2" by Maja Trochimczyk</div><br /><o:p><br /></o:p><p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p></p></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-68551422709409739552022-01-02T15:42:00.008-08:002022-01-02T15:53:49.160-08:00Happy New Year 2022 - Water Tiger Year with Haiku Poets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAXcqyXH6tyROBAJHAyBaLLueZ9sLO_sQek36Vb_q1h2Qzhfmx9DGhHFTVyOEGBY9AHlm4tMVyuFcf4k7c_p8biQ9Q3sRWu5FQMbjX0BwLg6TVfERwaGfnXs5gmHOPiI323gyS9mwnHLJFcOheGshaWxhgGirar6yqm56YuZwaSpR7H3J1BCdCbuPR=s3300" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="3300" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAXcqyXH6tyROBAJHAyBaLLueZ9sLO_sQek36Vb_q1h2Qzhfmx9DGhHFTVyOEGBY9AHlm4tMVyuFcf4k7c_p8biQ9Q3sRWu5FQMbjX0BwLg6TVfERwaGfnXs5gmHOPiI323gyS9mwnHLJFcOheGshaWxhgGirar6yqm56YuZwaSpR7H3J1BCdCbuPR=w400-h309" width="400" /></a></div><p> Lovely haiga - photos or art with haikus - sent in by members of Southern California Haiku Study Group were presented on Zoom on Sunday, January 2,2022 in a presentation hosted by Debbie P Kolodji. It was a delight and a meeting of friends, some from Southern California, Los Angeles, Orange and San Diego County, others from Northern California and the East Coast. Debbie brought us all together, created a delightful PowerPoint presentation of haiga riches, and led us through the reading. At the end, she collected ideas for more meetings in person...I'm inviting poets to Big Tujunga Wash in May and June for a walk amongst the towering white Yucca Whipplei flowers, a delight for us tiny Liliputs in the valley of giants... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSuYLTXXwyESX7zTUyAo1HVzqp6yG1vrM32uA7l8FqdPvNz_OjMDp5jp6KDnZbcaLlK9nd5eNzy3Ow_5D_-1YOAcV_xNIMNHAitOalE5Jn2xtTDJWdqV23XCp5hxQbX6s9nX7WUTay4dhDLvy5YPRJnv2uEB0aKo4e2JLayvLlXYbuW5FRc5MEx0XD=s2016" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSuYLTXXwyESX7zTUyAo1HVzqp6yG1vrM32uA7l8FqdPvNz_OjMDp5jp6KDnZbcaLlK9nd5eNzy3Ow_5D_-1YOAcV_xNIMNHAitOalE5Jn2xtTDJWdqV23XCp5hxQbX6s9nX7WUTay4dhDLvy5YPRJnv2uEB0aKo4e2JLayvLlXYbuW5FRc5MEx0XD=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>So much good poetry, but I only have photos of my own... I looked up what kind of Chinese Year are we going to have and saw Black Water Tiger - so I looked for a stripy photo to match, and found one from Redondo Beach, taken during the Christmas walk with kids and grandkids, some of them, anyway....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQyU9a3yVDExAfFzPf7PKWOwOsK9o3VU_E640PAfbq9RFMhhYvRd3iVplxYyty96F1REn-SGUm9K0Xgaz0ML3JSHM5WS2pzCHp5biSH8iiXbv89viFjlfhafQDhEkx-zsJhRCwM0tKbMBi0H-ay2Z7oAgSxt4Ai4bYcmF_TiTwLvaUt_zG6OgXZ-Nq=s3300" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="3300" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQyU9a3yVDExAfFzPf7PKWOwOsK9o3VU_E640PAfbq9RFMhhYvRd3iVplxYyty96F1REn-SGUm9K0Xgaz0ML3JSHM5WS2pzCHp5biSH8iiXbv89viFjlfhafQDhEkx-zsJhRCwM0tKbMBi0H-ay2Z7oAgSxt4Ai4bYcmF_TiTwLvaUt_zG6OgXZ-Nq=w400-h309" width="400" /></a></div><p>Then, I thought I should celebrate the fruitfulness and abundance of the coming year, so our focus is positive and full of trust in the great future we are expecting and will see happening. I just ate my very last pomegranate I saved for the new year. I kept it on the tree until January 1, and took the photo in mid-December when the gold leaves were still on the tree... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikxPvUHDWXxELSZvixnXiwLNNhnLUPV7CMcJnn5TlPdtKSmqjWVwjXtliZSQq9XTIQhhVs3MjjnfDuCBamLDh92TnB5EX1eJ1YYn7o2rYDnxbMpvVRYrWIP93yLJmc4hRGcbRCDQBUG6BclW3tkKCBvbUs3cz1NxgoDGt-EfU4VBoXKp-8Mid8dwro=s2550" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="2550" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEikxPvUHDWXxELSZvixnXiwLNNhnLUPV7CMcJnn5TlPdtKSmqjWVwjXtliZSQq9XTIQhhVs3MjjnfDuCBamLDh92TnB5EX1eJ1YYn7o2rYDnxbMpvVRYrWIP93yLJmc4hRGcbRCDQBUG6BclW3tkKCBvbUs3cz1NxgoDGt-EfU4VBoXKp-8Mid8dwro=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div></div><br /><p>The pomegranate was rich, almost amaranth in shade, dark burgundy wine hue, or .... pomegranate, bursting with tart sweetness on my tongue.... I wrote many pomegranate poems, the most recent one will be published in California Quarterly 48 no. 1, so here's The Aril from the past:</p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The Aril</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>“Aril” is the word for me. </p><p>Not “arid” – as in the desert of wasted years, hours.</p><p>Not “arduous” – as in working so hard every day</p><p>to make ends meet. These ends, they never meet, anyway.</p><p><br /></p><p>Just aril. As in my garden at noon. As in ruby-bright </p><p>pomegranate shining in full sunlight. A jewel bowl of arils </p><p>I pick from exploded fruit to freeze for winter. A handful </p><p>of overripe arils that taste rejuvenating, like fine wine.</p><p>Tartly-sweet juice stains my fingers burgundy-red – </p><p>or should I say, aril-red?</p><p><br /></p><p>Oh, the delight of untold riches!</p><p><br /></p><p>You watch me blissfully chew the seeds</p><p>and say in disbelief: “You eat them whole? Really?</p><p>When I was a boy, my brother told me that</p><p>trees would grow out of my ears if I swallowed </p><p>pomegranate seeds – huge trees would grow </p><p>and grow and grow and grow…”</p><p><br /></p><p>We laugh at the vision of these arid, forgotten years.</p><p>It was an arduous journey that took us through </p><p>the wilderness to this vivid moment of sharing </p><p>this magic, life-giving nectar of arils, </p><p>ruby-red arils.</p><p><br /></p><p>(c) Maja Trochimczyk, 2021</p><p><br /></p><p>Last week, as I was driving through our astounding mountains with Ian, my youngest son visiting from Texas, I wrote a poem about what surprised me the most - the river of gold leaves, ash, cottonwood, poplar - at the bottom of the canyon, meandering between steep hillsides - walls of cracking rocks, charcoal-dark from the rain, and sparse dried out bushes... We were driving too fast to take any photos, I'd have to climb half way up the slopes to catch a good view, anyway... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_-2ZgX75DjKDY0vhEAE7s042J5Tm1bMN5kCkvUwsKR4KlUaNaAyNLxylfns2IHu_QSmfrgsMIFETyl3RoU15ae0-b9HUmzDY6f_XQm_6c2nJ7I-PMm0Vsar0dslMr3FnEYQme6z8YQYWNGWKMcfsuGz14V11iGPx7WXMrwguYZnxo3mBAUy_e6Q6j=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_-2ZgX75DjKDY0vhEAE7s042J5Tm1bMN5kCkvUwsKR4KlUaNaAyNLxylfns2IHu_QSmfrgsMIFETyl3RoU15ae0-b9HUmzDY6f_XQm_6c2nJ7I-PMm0Vsar0dslMr3FnEYQme6z8YQYWNGWKMcfsuGz14V11iGPx7WXMrwguYZnxo3mBAUy_e6Q6j=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's a photo with Ian from the "Black Water Tiger" beach portrayed above.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkKnwIZ_MyPBL0j_PMk5GQXggFwiSejI0jDPV1W4CbZ7OPFfiAb8KiuNpU-flMkvxwRMAAmySv-xDXPQItiUzXyDBl1DkszNuRWOTWi2fAfUv6Xv9M9VQkF7BFhDAAMDj6k5_cETKGDcNTJau5SGKLwGf7U34MY025VudOGiX4dmnNpuxFdJ1J494W=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkKnwIZ_MyPBL0j_PMk5GQXggFwiSejI0jDPV1W4CbZ7OPFfiAb8KiuNpU-flMkvxwRMAAmySv-xDXPQItiUzXyDBl1DkszNuRWOTWi2fAfUv6Xv9M9VQkF7BFhDAAMDj6k5_cETKGDcNTJau5SGKLwGf7U34MY025VudOGiX4dmnNpuxFdJ1J494W=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's my older son's family with my youngest granddaughter, one of them, Aurelia</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp09XI2UnZ0pU7Ejip6JneNwehriGxayDDMCqLw0AyAgo1_KOF35ldiXgrJnqtZdIk4XtsFXVcUwXoEP5wEDN-EkZmPeQt9JspYkjcCFSfJRe5mi7ImX7xfASA_2bTrnCVCSKF-hThW22cQX-TvUsGW0KdNkdMGttCgELbV6GFIY0NH7e43CpjH8Uu=s2016" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp09XI2UnZ0pU7Ejip6JneNwehriGxayDDMCqLw0AyAgo1_KOF35ldiXgrJnqtZdIk4XtsFXVcUwXoEP5wEDN-EkZmPeQt9JspYkjcCFSfJRe5mi7ImX7xfASA_2bTrnCVCSKF-hThW22cQX-TvUsGW0KdNkdMGttCgELbV6GFIY0NH7e43CpjH8Uu=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">And here's my second youngest granddaughter, Juniper with her parents, her uncle and grandma.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6G7P0ExQt29WZxmACSkRLGloHku3vxuMcg1l62i0ExqySiGZtqBKHfd5YyYxeQaqPKLn86zpTWyem5xU7y4WaHrsY5z0i4Ax2hCe5MRhORdE7JHPwyVq-DPb8I1dcAOHRWIpTkEbSeIQTCdrJmKvPwMRnbd7_P5YNpUsfOWvrTLo3W1ap-QnWn1Hu=s2016" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6G7P0ExQt29WZxmACSkRLGloHku3vxuMcg1l62i0ExqySiGZtqBKHfd5YyYxeQaqPKLn86zpTWyem5xU7y4WaHrsY5z0i4Ax2hCe5MRhORdE7JHPwyVq-DPb8I1dcAOHRWIpTkEbSeIQTCdrJmKvPwMRnbd7_P5YNpUsfOWvrTLo3W1ap-QnWn1Hu=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Andherewe are in Costa Mesa Oso Park, with brand new Snoopy... <span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div></span></div><p>This morning, a haiku summarizing that experience, the contrast of lovely, flowing gold and charcoal crumbling into nothingness appeared out of nowhere. Then, I went for a walk to find some gold leaves - there were quite a few, from liquid amber, mulberry, poplar, cottonwood, ash, and some other trees that I do not know the names of... Here's the end result - extra leaves as the background. I actually found all hues of yellow, orange and red, or should I say Napes, Chrome and Imperial Yellows, Gold, Gamboge, Saffron, Amber, Minium, and Ginger, Vermilion, Scarlet, Hematite, Dragon's blood, all the way to Tyrian purple, Archil, russet, Sepia, and Umber... I know the names of these colors now, because I got a new book for Christmas, <i>The Secret Lives of Color</i> by Kassia St. Clair. So vivid, so brilliant!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3p1yj0uAJuALpmGmHSOlwMlwzSbrv84phgWZWJjlPLdR3fyl8UHm0kby28m8mUEfD_D6oqTLXmKj7LLGulWfCnhrfRPNTp3TrRd69CY0fkpKIagq6-zqjgJaTizsTf9ongnMASmEUDprttjlbIVQDUeNhQc4FSRkGJLOrXM9g9DJZ0w6Wl-QYO1ln=s2550" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="2550" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3p1yj0uAJuALpmGmHSOlwMlwzSbrv84phgWZWJjlPLdR3fyl8UHm0kby28m8mUEfD_D6oqTLXmKj7LLGulWfCnhrfRPNTp3TrRd69CY0fkpKIagq6-zqjgJaTizsTf9ongnMASmEUDprttjlbIVQDUeNhQc4FSRkGJLOrXM9g9DJZ0w6Wl-QYO1ln=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: medium;">May your year of Water Tiger be vivid and brilliant -</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: medium;">full of joy, serenity, gratitude and creativity. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: medium;">Happy New Year 2022 to everyone!</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-74576663718262332222021-12-01T17:33:00.004-08:002021-12-01T17:47:30.967-08:00On Autumn Delights - California in November<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwT58c6mViCSD_o4ywcJUcJmUhdzyoOA8AjEKIAhb63YU67ngfUmeJ7ei5AWDwwae8AZJWlvREzN2hnoKbP28enmch2BLtxi6SRHmXOj80ODVaTYo6HLAwmVwuPMmcv4gFgsR_LT4XHR8/s2048/IMG_7481.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwT58c6mViCSD_o4ywcJUcJmUhdzyoOA8AjEKIAhb63YU67ngfUmeJ7ei5AWDwwae8AZJWlvREzN2hnoKbP28enmch2BLtxi6SRHmXOj80ODVaTYo6HLAwmVwuPMmcv4gFgsR_LT4XHR8/w400-h300/IMG_7481.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />Since the stream dried out, yucca is no longer blooming, and I cannot wade in ankle-deep water, I stopped going for walks in the Wash. How many times can you walk down the same path and not get bored? I got restless in front of my laptop one lovely, sunny afternoon when the sky was perfect sapphire or lapis-lazuli, so brilliant and the sun just became golden, painting the hills into hues of amber and linden honey.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_wuld-T9J7dw701voIx6YSZy6WYWOrcj9cCAd0tCFp_Gd1mrbCNmW427bXkXcKCrrYT2_mqHCXmZrRsL4KKFzpuy7knK4XVMC9yJU7Rxk0dSUs7nv0FylCun_B7_AYi7BJb9cSw92KU/s2048/IMG_3551.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_wuld-T9J7dw701voIx6YSZy6WYWOrcj9cCAd0tCFp_Gd1mrbCNmW427bXkXcKCrrYT2_mqHCXmZrRsL4KKFzpuy7knK4XVMC9yJU7Rxk0dSUs7nv0FylCun_B7_AYi7BJb9cSw92KU/w400-h300/IMG_3551.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDYhH29MLYoLWiFmBoD-k2egTqqfht-fSb3xtqAejGaPz6PEqIX-HS2z4SLmpEo9hZBABP4wKn_a6aSr-blz3bnhtuUNAlOCs3u1MlpWwi0thFA99u1ZJqfPZlAKEinEsmm93j7vu4Fk/s2048/IMG_3552.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDYhH29MLYoLWiFmBoD-k2egTqqfht-fSb3xtqAejGaPz6PEqIX-HS2z4SLmpEo9hZBABP4wKn_a6aSr-blz3bnhtuUNAlOCs3u1MlpWwi0thFA99u1ZJqfPZlAKEinEsmm93j7vu4Fk/w400-h300/IMG_3552.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrGBO7eIIhTPy6WJLhzRrzFTqCgeJY20X2mJQYconwyEkx_-MRdAE0sLspsUeLmnPkX8q2LueSrnjY6-mK2ccdxxxK91UGdSoax6FIly53pZjaQ_EYFuGn3eKZa4v6BGTPB7xIjqsUcQ/s2048/IMG_3553.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrGBO7eIIhTPy6WJLhzRrzFTqCgeJY20X2mJQYconwyEkx_-MRdAE0sLspsUeLmnPkX8q2LueSrnjY6-mK2ccdxxxK91UGdSoax6FIly53pZjaQ_EYFuGn3eKZa4v6BGTPB7xIjqsUcQ/w400-h300/IMG_3553.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>A surprise was waiting for me among pungent bushes of sage and manzanita - some yucca stalks, dried and lifeless were perfectly golden in the setting sun. So a poem came back home with me from that peaceful walk. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95_Zum1IW0AbZ7G1VI7pTwOODtYbAhyb3r4SDW-IItw8_GRUZp5-ChSPZjsep7-HMLY61e0AW9dUJ-oSlw-iGd5NfDBCPSUxa3LXZzVqDR5LFkX8I2C_mkM3-XElVnsnVEU95WnCMiSg/s2048/IMG_7498.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj95_Zum1IW0AbZ7G1VI7pTwOODtYbAhyb3r4SDW-IItw8_GRUZp5-ChSPZjsep7-HMLY61e0AW9dUJ-oSlw-iGd5NfDBCPSUxa3LXZzVqDR5LFkX8I2C_mkM3-XElVnsnVEU95WnCMiSg/w300-h400/IMG_7498.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Fall Yucca</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>Golden stems shine like beams of sunset</p><p>piercing the purple valley that sinks</p><p>into darkness under a soap-bubble sky.</p><p><br /></p><p>The stems lean sideways, imperceptibly falling</p><p>- these are our leaning towers of Yucca in the desert </p><p>valley that I make my home. I breathe deeply, delighted </p><p><br /></p><p>by the omnipresent sheen and sparkle of sonorous </p><p>cicadas that rush to surround me with their scintillating</p><p>songs of summer, before rains silence them into sleep.</p><p><br /></p><p>Long, narrow yucca leaves gather at the stems</p><p>like supersonic star-beams meeting at one point </p><p>on the horizon, blurred by velocity of a Star Wars flight.</p><p><br /></p><p>They burst out at dusk with a silvery glow </p><p>of moonlight - then detach from their drying stems </p><p>to crumble into the thick charcoal of the earth.</p><p><br /></p><p>The yucca's white lily flowers have long turned into </p><p>bunches of seed-pods - waiting to fall and germinate </p><p>into spikes of sharp leaves that poke from the rocky soil </p><p><br /></p><p>with a promise and a certainty of survival – </p><p>the next year's yucca. Shadows reveal sparks</p><p>of icy stars above me – I walk home, content. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cNlWIR6b4G-87KiFWUm85ZXccNsYzThuJpXQIkCSKHBrcFVr9NdjHjwief_CwSza9M23iDtzUiXSg15wJ9Lso1ecsh9UBJw9-jVVYltJIBiBNBSjV-vBFu1T2umi-Xu2IZnkMS4vMkw/s2048/IMG_7480.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cNlWIR6b4G-87KiFWUm85ZXccNsYzThuJpXQIkCSKHBrcFVr9NdjHjwief_CwSza9M23iDtzUiXSg15wJ9Lso1ecsh9UBJw9-jVVYltJIBiBNBSjV-vBFu1T2umi-Xu2IZnkMS4vMkw/w400-h300/IMG_7480.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>My rock heart that I wrote a ballad about and kept placing on a little indent in a larger rock is gone, so I found another rock heart and placed it right there. This place I call the Rock Heart Valley, so it has to have its heart! Nearby someone put together a tall cairn of rocks, so I took a photo of it. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bm3lpLB2U8ykDd11fvoOt8EwKeZlofpKeJSlK8T9O-lfU2AlDnCJrAEgAQ2SuPGo1l6U6VjeVmzQc40YWQUJV25Ei9bLhY2NPJutNLN5NIHzll1O04KRixxxfER6dvF1VYwMr85p_uQ/s2048/IMG_3555.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bm3lpLB2U8ykDd11fvoOt8EwKeZlofpKeJSlK8T9O-lfU2AlDnCJrAEgAQ2SuPGo1l6U6VjeVmzQc40YWQUJV25Ei9bLhY2NPJutNLN5NIHzll1O04KRixxxfER6dvF1VYwMr85p_uQ/w400-h400/IMG_3555.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="goog_1762431298"><br /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/02/blog-post.html">https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/02/blog-post.html</a></div><p>I'm not the only one here interested in rock art. someone else put together a spiral to walk into and outside. I did that and got dizzy from turning inwards at smaller and smaller angles, until the whole valley was rotating around me, standing transfixed under the sapphire sky. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihz97Rs7BITjokCwzlGNh-xIFw-0xuohLYu7xJvD1WWd7O4p10_uKDsQj4sv8ZowRfBVznrzMSXvpO10cii_5CwXNBdXaZISuhbrIARyz8D_0DWDb7HS9gaI_c4yszhPzsNJe7_l59XGk/s2048/IMG_7594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihz97Rs7BITjokCwzlGNh-xIFw-0xuohLYu7xJvD1WWd7O4p10_uKDsQj4sv8ZowRfBVznrzMSXvpO10cii_5CwXNBdXaZISuhbrIARyz8D_0DWDb7HS9gaI_c4yszhPzsNJe7_l59XGk/w400-h300/IMG_7594.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVlfQEHPtjobmPGcxq3KSjaH5Hu5jyXLESHkjoSPIijUy_H8wAXdbdfgW5UW7FewyHX735GN5kPJi8aB271jRYaXL_1JZWB6Jx5hENP2UsCVVfwVfRjRReHECNXmFLj_nw5Y9FD8UV2k/s2048/IMG_7600.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVlfQEHPtjobmPGcxq3KSjaH5Hu5jyXLESHkjoSPIijUy_H8wAXdbdfgW5UW7FewyHX735GN5kPJi8aB271jRYaXL_1JZWB6Jx5hENP2UsCVVfwVfRjRReHECNXmFLj_nw5Y9FD8UV2k/w400-h400/IMG_7600.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCRrYIFDK_U3imYN-0oY00Jj6hly46Rabqj_iq_J82wWNf4QN6MkJQUAWoqVWeTIHLZxUghjh-IdHOjZDJb8wfzsolMGj3abjHo-87-nzhNVkHyiHy1Ao-92XCYcy3FlqhkUlsdULuiw/s2048/IMG_2125.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCRrYIFDK_U3imYN-0oY00Jj6hly46Rabqj_iq_J82wWNf4QN6MkJQUAWoqVWeTIHLZxUghjh-IdHOjZDJb8wfzsolMGj3abjHo-87-nzhNVkHyiHy1Ao-92XCYcy3FlqhkUlsdULuiw/w300-h400/IMG_2125.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>The nights are cool these days, winter chill comes out right after sunset, though it still feels like summer in direct sunlight. Roses like it and after slumbering through the hottest months of the year, July through September, they finally started blooming again. I have several new, fragrant varieties to join the pink French Perfume that had as many as 30 roses simultaneously. The smaller bushes have one or two, but so pretty in their rainbow colors and delicate, intoxicating scents. Sometimes I stand in front of the rose bush and take 10-20-30 breaths of the rose perfume - aromatherapy done live! Here's a new poem about the two-color rose, cream inside, blush pink outside, called the Double Delight. </p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACQTInu-Yy_aTW63yqTlaeN2-V3njJnxB1CZZv11GomkwPT39FqiiFygG-6oDipTHwdZvzy7MDnPbC2CJD5e-78jtS7tPDZthjyl2ZRc04IOm4Vsl9J44gtjA_ArTspzRrZfYMLkdWWI/s2048/IMG_5553.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACQTInu-Yy_aTW63yqTlaeN2-V3njJnxB1CZZv11GomkwPT39FqiiFygG-6oDipTHwdZvzy7MDnPbC2CJD5e-78jtS7tPDZthjyl2ZRc04IOm4Vsl9J44gtjA_ArTspzRrZfYMLkdWWI/w400-h400/IMG_5553.JPG" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Double Delight</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>Gentle as dawn, clearing </p><p>the sky of midnight nightmares </p><p>my November rose smiles to herself </p><p>rearranging the bluh and pink crinoline </p><p>of petals folded into a heart –</p><p>her secret within</p><p><br /></p><p>She tells me to laugh </p><p>and laugh again, overflowing </p><p>with childish joy, champaign bubbling </p><p>in a crystal – while the air around me –</p><p>is heavy with cries of panic, anguish, hate.</p><p><br /></p><p>“What of the news?” you say, </p><p>“Who lived, who died, who suffered?”</p><p>I’m silent, exploring the inner landscapes </p><p>that only music knows – the infinity </p><p>of cellos, violins, and the lover’s gaze </p><p>locked in the key of brightness.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENdfKmN1ZzGRtZ5FnQT3uuKRyxjJZeb-oXp9IVPZ4goPs6G0LbTST7F_V359O2J17WDsrmzzj6LnYWylinP57QoXXG0nraREvirl-zm4ExlPOQIXSSgqME94ptNKoedbhOCaJ8owTTTA/s2048/IMG_9439.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENdfKmN1ZzGRtZ5FnQT3uuKRyxjJZeb-oXp9IVPZ4goPs6G0LbTST7F_V359O2J17WDsrmzzj6LnYWylinP57QoXXG0nraREvirl-zm4ExlPOQIXSSgqME94ptNKoedbhOCaJ8owTTTA/w300-h400/IMG_9439.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJp9LvszEMYfzq1JyxR6N_CE5NbKLqKTrtO1ZAik8XCIthTBmb3T6nbHWIGWq-KjqnfrTXKJucjC_fV0WOuatmoZM86rMxQrq2eEX72J8V1By6XTY8h9_tAGeRr2gXcdUed6JxPx6h7xs/s2048/IMG_5854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJp9LvszEMYfzq1JyxR6N_CE5NbKLqKTrtO1ZAik8XCIthTBmb3T6nbHWIGWq-KjqnfrTXKJucjC_fV0WOuatmoZM86rMxQrq2eEX72J8V1By6XTY8h9_tAGeRr2gXcdUed6JxPx6h7xs/w320-h320/IMG_5854.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKVr0b1EArmKy8bFcZLzyGWBHui_N1Upbjzlcq0f3vYypV0MMBi53ZCd79Bm8FUSL7j_WDW_AJWMi4uyxsn0pOtUu1eeoxUMIHy91maNFgUHga2XHtBjCsiRRBbawZQxO9kleBXat3AU/s2048/IMG_5870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKVr0b1EArmKy8bFcZLzyGWBHui_N1Upbjzlcq0f3vYypV0MMBi53ZCd79Bm8FUSL7j_WDW_AJWMi4uyxsn0pOtUu1eeoxUMIHy91maNFgUHga2XHtBjCsiRRBbawZQxO9kleBXat3AU/s320/IMG_5870.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm grateful for my Double Delight, I'm grateful for my pomegranates, here filled with thank-yous in so many languages. Gratitude is the virtue of blessings. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHrhbTZ7S82oj2mYTE4GR0RZdSMxA3GGJO2pHSb7FKnFRYDifrIp1hkqse1C-AN-66UNF4438A5lAVwDmqZx9yifbxjFlf1WRLw_9fZNh-mYjIHYn1sYuKZyHrtwELz6Yc1VnMj15zpY/s1042/thanks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="1042" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHrhbTZ7S82oj2mYTE4GR0RZdSMxA3GGJO2pHSb7FKnFRYDifrIp1hkqse1C-AN-66UNF4438A5lAVwDmqZx9yifbxjFlf1WRLw_9fZNh-mYjIHYn1sYuKZyHrtwELz6Yc1VnMj15zpY/w400-h301/thanks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupv9x9zufMrlN0DgqagsWiALfOi5hCO20boXWmOh43GvBlqMtXQJJYmP0-1HWd3LsciOXkS2oiYowALgkALtf_X6iULfm2pyjP5pB9YpZk8x3LPUF3Nq3KGgmzddX6cIPkeyz8kmeRF4/s2048/thanksgiving+blessing.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1583" data-original-width="2048" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupv9x9zufMrlN0DgqagsWiALfOi5hCO20boXWmOh43GvBlqMtXQJJYmP0-1HWd3LsciOXkS2oiYowALgkALtf_X6iULfm2pyjP5pB9YpZk8x3LPUF3Nq3KGgmzddX6cIPkeyz8kmeRF4/w400-h309/thanksgiving+blessing.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-16222999722215528592021-10-08T19:51:00.008-07:002021-12-01T19:20:13.636-08:00Trochimczyk's "The Rainy Bread: More Poems from Exile" in Paperback, October 2021<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrbSsU3usxaXSGzkX2XlI-0K_KvbSMiobGeqAi2PZsDwFye5EQTm0e-aoF1zAEn5Ud5zPluaYzO0_rySG-BZQyDE1dwrpZnIuqACpDg2iGviS09y2EFqTegbdMGqW21ia_RiSIVKr684/w266-h400/Rainy+Bread+paperback+cover+front-page-001.jpg" width="266" /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.moonrisepress.com/the-rainy-bread-by-maja-trochimczyk.html">https://www.moonrisepress.com/the-rainy-bread-by-maja-trochimczyk.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Rainy Bread. Poems from Exile.</i> <a href="https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/maja-trochimczyk/the-rainy-bread-poems-from-exile/paperback/product-1ngyd66r.html?page=1&pageSize=4" style="color: #b41708; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">ISBN 978-1-945938-00-9</a>, </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">P<a href="https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/maja-trochimczyk/the-rainy-bread-poems-from-exile/paperback/product-1ngyd66r.html" style="color: #b41708; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">aperback</a>, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">64 pages, $10.00 plus shipping</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><i>The Rainy Bread. More Poems from Exile.</i> <a href="https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/maja-trochimczyk/the-rainy-bread-more-poems-from-exile/paperback/product-g5z95r.html?page=1&pageSize=4" style="color: #b41708; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">ISBN 978-1-945938-47-4</a> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Paperback with color photos, 124 pp. $40.00 plus shipping<br /><br /></span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7); font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">The Rainy Bread. Poems from Exile. </i><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">ISBN </span></span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #0a101a; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">978-1-945938-01-6</span></span><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <a href="https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/maja-trochimczyk/the-rainy-bread-poems-from-exile/ebook/product-12jyvn85.html" style="color: #b41708; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">EBook</a>, expanded version with 60 poems and color photos, $8.00</span></span></div> <p></p><p><i style="font-family: georgia;">The Rainy Bread: Poems of Exile, </i><span style="font-family: georgia;">a poetry collection by Maja Trochimczyk has been enlarged by 31 poems and reorganized into six parts. An updated e-book is available. The book now includes 61 poems about forgotten stories of Poles living under the Soviet and German occupation during WWII, especially in the Eastern Borderlands of Kresy. They were killed, deported, imprisoned, or oppressed after the invasion of Poland by Germany on September 1, 1039 and by the invasion by the Soviet Union on September 17, 1939. Some of these brief portraits capture the trauma and resilience, ordeals and miraculous survival stories of the author’s immediate family. Their experiences of displacement, hunger, cold, and poverty during the war are typical of Polish civilians. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJjq7dc849AfJaQFlaUOaHGt-5K3vwmo-rdJrAdgtYOJkJw-JIBd9Nh5pFkTDspQv6qKjYoLJp5kFVQG8A-7wxTjhCTJA9Qyy1RBYHq0NKRyxy7B9ODnVzbw2pyVfIkOhwobMGJbBFLI/s521/babciamamasnieg_opt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="521" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJjq7dc849AfJaQFlaUOaHGt-5K3vwmo-rdJrAdgtYOJkJw-JIBd9Nh5pFkTDspQv6qKjYoLJp5kFVQG8A-7wxTjhCTJA9Qyy1RBYHq0NKRyxy7B9ODnVzbw2pyVfIkOhwobMGJbBFLI/w400-h264/babciamamasnieg_opt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maria, Stanislaw Wajszczuk, with children Henryka and Jerzy, Baranowicze, 1938.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">These fictionalized fact-based memories are coupled with depictions of survival of other Poles deported to Siberia, the Arctic Circle, or Kazakhstan; those left the Soviet Union with the Second Corps of the Polish Army under the command of General Władysław Anders; those who were transported to refugee camps in India or Africa; and ended up in Argentina, Canada, Australia or the U.S. Their tragedies and survival stories are not widely known, so it is only fitting that a book of poems dedicated to family and personal resilience would touch upon these forgotten histories as well.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8u-t62QQVS1XRGx7IMOBucKgLqFDg9udUk5YU6TgBNRApxMwmviC9JxgGiONYMagcX4rtCPysBXPf0_xl-nqaXvFA-pm1QLG9kW48UoED2f52QaIzC_ZV4DFXPphA8WWAteLVZ7tAg/s3264/IMG_0970.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8u-t62QQVS1XRGx7IMOBucKgLqFDg9udUk5YU6TgBNRApxMwmviC9JxgGiONYMagcX4rtCPysBXPf0_xl-nqaXvFA-pm1QLG9kW48UoED2f52QaIzC_ZV4DFXPphA8WWAteLVZ7tAg/w400-h300/IMG_0970.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A monument to Polish civilians shot by Germans during Warsaw Uprising.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The book is a companion to “Slicing the Bread” (2014), with which it shares some poems, including vignettes from the author’s childhood in Warsaw. Organized into six parts - Destinations, Nowhere, Hunger Years, Resilience, There and Back, What Remains - the updated book follows a trajectory of descent into the hell of deportations, imprisonment, hunger, mass murder, and ascent into resilience and survival. The dark rain of sorrow changes into the diamond rain of delight with life. Trochimczyk writes: It has been quite difficult to select poems for the "uplift into light" section that brings a "happy end" of sorts to the harrowing experiences of an entire generation of Poles - exiled, starved, murdered. Finally, the idea to bring them to the author's present happiness in the garden, mixed in with some sweet childhood memories turned out to be the the best solution. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvshT33FAhTQdYTv6o-voGRtryOS2s-bpHuv-WAe5U3VsqS0qBBAZObPh-cs1X-2GZy7AZmNY-2cKqtb5FUljmyMMZ52_v4PVRysHFe8Pk3Cj4ExEa5nOI3JJZRCX4O6QhRdiAETBqIbM/s2048/IMG_4870.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvshT33FAhTQdYTv6o-voGRtryOS2s-bpHuv-WAe5U3VsqS0qBBAZObPh-cs1X-2GZy7AZmNY-2cKqtb5FUljmyMMZ52_v4PVRysHFe8Pk3Cj4ExEa5nOI3JJZRCX4O6QhRdiAETBqIbM/w400-h300/IMG_4870.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maja Trochimczyk reads from The Rainy Bread, at Kresy Syberia conference </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in Warsaw, September 2016.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b style="font-family: georgia;">ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Maja Trochimczyk, Ph.D., is a Polish American poet, music historian, photographer, and author of seven books on music, most recently “Gorecki in Context: Essays on Music” (2017) and “Frédéric Chopin: A Research and Information Guide” (co-edited with William Smialek, rev. ed., 2015). She currently serves as the President of the California State Poetry Society, managing editor of the California Quarterly, and President of the Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club in Los Angeles, promoting Polish culture in California. Trochimczyk’s nine books of poetry include “Rose Always,” “Miriam’s Iris,” “Slicing the Bread,” “Into Light”, and four anthologies, “Chopin with Cherries” (2010), “Meditations on Divine Names” (2012), “Grateful Conversations: A Poetry Anthology” (2018) and “We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology” (2020). This is her ninth poetry collection.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95PXg05FBBxa-o_7H997LZOXbceyOnCzL32t8rto-Ui5PzgGtM_OaabYAyZyob0wtxmz3DPKU4AZnSTcFi6DkWrB9Vej1BOi716WqCNqojfoHz1KnGkG_MF44Uh0AqJLm7Z3fVEY_9g/s3264/IMG_4376.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95PXg05FBBxa-o_7H997LZOXbceyOnCzL32t8rto-Ui5PzgGtM_OaabYAyZyob0wtxmz3DPKU4AZnSTcFi6DkWrB9Vej1BOi716WqCNqojfoHz1KnGkG_MF44Uh0AqJLm7Z3fVEY_9g/w400-h300/IMG_4376.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nike - Monument to Warsaw Uprising, Warsaw, 2014.</div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia;">SAMPLE NEW POEMS</span></b></span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">≡ ONCE UPON A TIME IN BARANOWICZE ≡</span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>This city is a cipher without a face. Just splinters </div><div>of images caught on paper, my Mom’s old photos. </div><div>A blustery winter street with a round poster stand, </div><div>just like in Warsaw. An opulent interior of the studio</div><div>with a bearskin for naked babies. A mahogany stand </div><div>for First-Communion girls, with rosaries and lace gloves. </div><div>Flowers for Marshall Piłsudski, tightly held in a fist</div><div>by the prettiest girl, with dark locks of curly hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>That’s all. No childhood street corners, no velvet </div><div>and muslin curtains. No church bells. </div><div>Some forgotten shrines.</div><div><br /></div><div>This was the site of battles. In 1916 — 100,000 dead, </div><div>less than the 700,000 of Verdun and known to no-one.</div><div>Still, each life matters. Once more: Baranowicze. </div><div>Here, forty-eight priests and teachers murdered </div><div>in cold blood. By Germans? Soviets? The German rule </div><div>meant disappearing in the ghetto. Half of the town gone. </div><div>The Soviet rule meant crowded freight trains to Irkutsk, </div><div>to Arkhangelsk, to Kazakhstan. The Gulag Archipelago.</div><div><br /></div><div>For me, this city is a cipher, </div><div>only existing as the birthplace of my Mom.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lucyna tells a different story—bus trips to Świteź,</div><div>Mickiewicz’s poems, silver ponds at Grandpa’s farm.</div><div>The family home, her Mom says, <i>“stood on the hill, near </i></div><div><i>a pine-fir forest, with broad meadows full of flowers </i></div><div><i>and all sorts of birds spreading out. Skylarks sang, </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>soaring high above the fields. From the courtyard </i></div><div><i>you could see dark forests looming in the distance.” </i></div><div><br /></div><div>In May: white bells of the lilies of the valley, </div><div>picked by the bucket. Heavenly scent. </div><div>In July: gold fields in bright sunlight, </div><div>sunflower heads, huge as dinner plates. </div><div>In September: The Soviets came. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nothing could save them from deportation — </div><div>ruin — you know — the usual fate. </div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>NOTE: Quote from a poem by Maria Rorbach, survivor. </div><div>“...stał na górce pod lasem </div><div>sosnowo świerkowym,</div><div>u podnóża rozpościerały</div><div>się łąki kwieciste z mnóstwem</div><div>wszelkich ptaków a nad polami</div><div>unosiły się wysoko rozśpiewane</div><div>skowronki. Z podwórka widać było</div><div>w dali ciemne lasy...”</div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">≡ LANGUAGE ≡</span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div><div>— is all there is, all you take with you when you go</div><div>from country to country, carried by the winds of change.</div><div>The merciless gale of history blows you backward</div><div>to the time before homes were homes,</div><div>before love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hold on. Language is all there is. You’ll leave </div><div>your sentimental treasures — a miniature</div><div>flower vase from your cloistered Godmother, </div><div>brown like her Franciscan habit and warm eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>A worn sapphire, set in the ornate gold ring </div><div>Dad bought in Moscow for your Mom’s engagement —</div><div>scarred by work and trouble, washing dishes, </div><div>work, always more work.</div><div><br /></div><div>A suitcase of photos you are too raw </div><div>with grief to open — one day, you say, </div><div>I promise, I’ll do it, one day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Language is all there is. Words slip back </div><div>under the avalanche of hours. What you took </div><div>was yours then. What is yours now? </div><div><br /></div><div>You left behind your Grandma Nina’s </div><div>Belarussian, her Dad’s Ukrainian.</div><div>You did not keep Aunt Basia’s sing-song</div><div>intonation from Trzebieszów that crept in</div><div>despite Grandma Maria’s fierce battle to </div><div>keep the Polish pure, literary, unspoiled. </div><div><br /></div><div>Your kids picked up the dialect of the locals </div><div>in weeks of summer, only to lose it after coming home. </div><div>Alas, your Polish bears an English accent. </div><div>American, with strange rounded “R’s.”</div><div><br /></div><div>Rough tones of Polish mountain village resound </div><div>through the gilded salons of an L.A. mansion.</div><div>They speak a 17th century peasant dialect in Quebec.</div><div><br /></div><div>Out of one accent, not yet in another, </div><div>you sound foreign everywhere, to everyone.</div><div>You keep your words in-between kingdoms.</div><div><br /></div><div>One day, you’ll find your treasures.</div><div><br /></div><div>Language is all there is </div><div>until this New Day comes. </div><div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6H9joNOAY0pyDK79bFv6uNpF-C-gzuGxhil2kJI3bBVg2EliKdUz-qHqEvIRuK8yCwL8_ujQKWom8X5eSxDLXTBrSI5f-LFuhGwI70Q41jHT2LfUS0HpWQjQKtHQmy8e0qcElWOsDmY/s2048/IMG_4873.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6H9joNOAY0pyDK79bFv6uNpF-C-gzuGxhil2kJI3bBVg2EliKdUz-qHqEvIRuK8yCwL8_ujQKWom8X5eSxDLXTBrSI5f-LFuhGwI70Q41jHT2LfUS0HpWQjQKtHQmy8e0qcElWOsDmY/w400-h300/IMG_4873.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Trochimczyk reads poems from The Rainy Bread in Warsaw, September 2016</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Video from the Warsaw Reading on YouTube: </span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4T_9QDRAxjc&list=PL3q7UTBe4d0f-JhchmDRTqBodFgEOF9IH&index=40">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4T_9QDRAxjc&list=PL3q7UTBe4d0f-JhchmDRTqBodFgEOF9IH&index=40</a></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><b><br />
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4T_9QDRAxjc" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div><b>≡ THE ANTIDOTE ≡</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>Chaos breaks out in our cities full of noise, </div><div>toxins, radiation. I withdraw into my garden,</div><div>compress the sphere of attention, </div><div>intensifying the focus on minute details.</div><div><br /></div><div>The liquid patterns of finches’ song, repeated </div><div>like a broken record. The sediment lines </div><div>on the layered rock from Big Tujunga Wash.</div><div>The translucent oval of a quartz stone, </div><div>smoothed by the Pacific on Oxnard Beach.</div><div><br /></div><div>The imperceptible motion of leaves </div><div>expanding skywards, while their roots </div><div>stretch down invisibly, moist with dew.</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it not enough to taste a pomegranate,</div><div>really taste each tart aril, bursting in your mouth? </div><div>Is it not enough to turn your face up, </div><div>to be kissed by noon sunlight?</div><div><br /></div><div>“No fear, no hate, not even a slight dislike” – </div><div>says St. Germain. I clear the rubble </div><div>of memories of past pain, stronger, </div><div>more clingy than the pain itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>The mind is full of useless knowledge.</div><div>The body remembers on its own.</div><div>Pitiful. The heart locks itself </div><div>in a hard shell of protectiveness.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to conquer this chaos within, polish </div><div>the lamps, wash the windows into sparkling </div><div>translucence, letting the light in, clear light – </div><div>the antidote to chaos.</div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></div></div></div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></div></div></span></span></span></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-46183683941112955152021-08-20T14:43:00.001-07:002021-08-20T14:43:30.110-07:00August Tales from the Garden and the Sea<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUsZD9Wa-iHWZI8HQSEmiA-K34hKIQl5MijvD2_UZtGjjhF6vjbhwhSduvYxfMNwdkXz01wjL8IXla8vEpGgKbvOLb6Gsyn7G_WM8_fH7ODvwEI7Sy_nq6pmEkAMWYzUMLiJbhESAa_k/s2048/IMG_6300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUsZD9Wa-iHWZI8HQSEmiA-K34hKIQl5MijvD2_UZtGjjhF6vjbhwhSduvYxfMNwdkXz01wjL8IXla8vEpGgKbvOLb6Gsyn7G_WM8_fH7ODvwEI7Sy_nq6pmEkAMWYzUMLiJbhESAa_k/w400-h300/IMG_6300.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>My garden is a refuge and a source of endless delights, even without a side fence removed for the month-long, very noisy construction of a neighbor's swimming pool next door. The bees in the crape myrtle tree sound almost like those of my Grandma's - from her linden tree. The birds are busy flittering from side to side of the garden, drinking water or picking on my green grapes. The rabbits - yes I have two wild rabbits, or rather wild hares living in thickets under the bushes - nibble on grass blades in the shade, hop around to explore, stop to look at me with the black beady eyes, somewhat curious, but utterly unafraid. They trained us, humans, well, these hares. The dog next door guards them from coyotes, the kids give them carrots. Perfection! I tried to write a poem about the hare, but it turned into a short story...</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaIkpT4NhCuW8fWdam7xCk7LnmadXM2Jvl8MjlKAFFxtSHe86Mv31GxWFy66rsNeu8MJc4rU_G2xIfR579jxAOdnNo_6mpLyNkLzYi5FREfMX5vpO9aOuucVcEJlbk_TtRPkl3QGw9hM/s2048/IMG_6730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaIkpT4NhCuW8fWdam7xCk7LnmadXM2Jvl8MjlKAFFxtSHe86Mv31GxWFy66rsNeu8MJc4rU_G2xIfR579jxAOdnNo_6mpLyNkLzYi5FREfMX5vpO9aOuucVcEJlbk_TtRPkl3QGw9hM/w400-h400/IMG_6730.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">When I go out to the front porch in the morning, I am startled by enormous white wings of the great egret spreading out right in front of me. The stream in the wash dried out. We do not poison our yards with toxins. Egrets, hares, and a flotilla of birds come over to eat and drink, enjoy the mini-Eden... Did I mention that there are plenty of bees? Mason bees?</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiPkDgGqpZ-9VBps8l0hvJ-f-mA5DxZtnCt0KWbmgCK2HTrfGaydq0xx5eCMSIfC8zsbD-pwruxyvv5K7by1q6JF7gOzchXbB6N-DYUFNXH3FXMxEpM3Tzh72bQfD0gx1eRX8HM7pDXw/s2048/bees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijiPkDgGqpZ-9VBps8l0hvJ-f-mA5DxZtnCt0KWbmgCK2HTrfGaydq0xx5eCMSIfC8zsbD-pwruxyvv5K7by1q6JF7gOzchXbB6N-DYUFNXH3FXMxEpM3Tzh72bQfD0gx1eRX8HM7pDXw/w400-h400/bees.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p><b><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;">M</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">ason Bees</span></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: georgia;">I share my roses with the mason
bees –</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">Iceberg leaves they like the best,
cutting</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">circles and ellipses from the edge,
inwards.</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">Iceberg roses, not iceberg lettuce,
mind you,</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">that’s far too crunchy to make soft
beds, wrapping</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">bee babies in green, white or pink
silkiness,</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">smooth and pliable like we ought to
be, smiling</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">under the merciless gale of time,
raging river</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">flowing backwards, always
backwards.</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">I used to get angry looking at my
mutilated</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">roses – white blossoms, a defense
against evil</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">guarding my front door like bee
soldiers in the hive</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">ready to sacrifice their lives –
just one sting</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">and the miniature fuzzy warrior’s
gone – having</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">lived just to protect and serve us,
the worker bees, </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">buzzing around our lives, cutting
circles and</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">ellipses in white roses. Bees and
humans, we are</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">all children of the Queen Bee,
Gaia, our Mother.</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">We make honey of our kindness,
virtues, character</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">wisdom, self-reliance. Attentive,
focused on the next</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">perfect circle, semicircle or
ellipsis – we breathe deeply,</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">delight in drinking nectar,
carrying pollen of emotions,</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #222222;">sights, impressions – flying back
home to make the sweetest</span><span style="color: #222222; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">gold, translucent honey of our
poems, of our dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Published in the <i>California Quarterly</i> 47 no 2
summer 2021<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMqAulqV7TJL4pK9mCsw69cvE5qIPtSXY-sDZMiEkN_QrtJsEz3h7Cd0y7mG1lSCu2LBuisnTHzEFUwDUFLg5vyRH_7nzjqficDTQ8rsHxUoEXd-nhatIXAdYfYjYwqerft84Cd7shl-U/s2048/IMG_5497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMqAulqV7TJL4pK9mCsw69cvE5qIPtSXY-sDZMiEkN_QrtJsEz3h7Cd0y7mG1lSCu2LBuisnTHzEFUwDUFLg5vyRH_7nzjqficDTQ8rsHxUoEXd-nhatIXAdYfYjYwqerft84Cd7shl-U/w400-h300/IMG_5497.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>On Thursday Afternoon</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Your voice outside my window –</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">deep, calm flowing inexorably like a river</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">towards the future we will not know until </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">we look back and the past and say:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>So that’s what you meant. So, that’s what it was.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Understanding the whole of the whole</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">that encircles us in a glowing sphere of </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">emotions – forgiveness, radiance, joy</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of the fleeting moment, The present.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The golden line of a mockingbird song </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">weaves in and out of time – I follow</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">its ornamental thread into the present – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">space opened up by gratitude</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">blossoming in a smile. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sparrows in the birdbath, jet planes</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">in the sky, hummingbird’s wings, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">the dove’s shadow passing over the lawn</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">and chimes playing endless variations</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of the same melody over and over</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">until all time ends and we are back</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">in that singularity beyond all spatiotemporal </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">emanations, back in One Love of One </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mind, One Will, One – Us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIOoFFV8dzgw4boD6f1VmaV-d5oEtPYg9R0k_LLDWXtqSNGck9LM9fWVHxSjCjeZupCjHbVD-M7ZrBZeVGSyNgtj8EEAJ_QEZTWbTQKn8g1oicnSR5jrMiPC_4aONfcjc-ljR4fSBeE4/s2048/IMG_2323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIOoFFV8dzgw4boD6f1VmaV-d5oEtPYg9R0k_LLDWXtqSNGck9LM9fWVHxSjCjeZupCjHbVD-M7ZrBZeVGSyNgtj8EEAJ_QEZTWbTQKn8g1oicnSR5jrMiPC_4aONfcjc-ljR4fSBeE4/w400-h300/IMG_2323.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">On day trips to the beach, </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I see sea-gulls, pelicans and sand-pipers when I walk along the sandy expanse. It is the waves and the water that I'm most interested in, the endless soothing rhythm, the untamed energy. Life itself. The light that scatters on the surface, the play of the elements - earth, water, air, wind, fire...</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>The Glow of Forgiveness</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Like a mountain stream over rocks,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">wearing them out droplet by droplet,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">forgiveness flows inexorably to its </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">dissolution in the blessed serenity</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of living waters of the presence,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">knowledge, charm. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Infinitely self aware and infinitely grateful,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">you the forgiving one are also forgiven – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">all limitations removed, all rubble of past </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">misfortunes cleared to reveal a smooth expanse</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of sunlit ocean – gold and silver, topaz and jade </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">with a sprinkling of diamonds shimmering </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">on glass smoothness, scattering around you </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">as you float on the surface, resting beyond </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">sorrow, beyond pain, beyond time.</span></p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2WkuTgylkxb5xV-O82jABMCCp5iIPtYyKVXoH7B-AEwCNYBdi_2kmWjP2ZTaCNQj_jWGTBYISvIPVBqZX5N5xJDB6VXTNqGT46LpkfLjcd5PQISD2B5yv2uwh8ZRVAyZxtqFrIPVG3g/s2048/IMG_1122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy2WkuTgylkxb5xV-O82jABMCCp5iIPtYyKVXoH7B-AEwCNYBdi_2kmWjP2ZTaCNQj_jWGTBYISvIPVBqZX5N5xJDB6VXTNqGT46LpkfLjcd5PQISD2B5yv2uwh8ZRVAyZxtqFrIPVG3g/w400-h300/IMG_1122.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>I wrote Aquamarine a while back and sent to Carole Boyce, she liked it and included in the "Blue and the Blues" anthology that she published in January 2021. It is a wonderful anthology, and I'm pleased to add some shades of blue to its rainbow.</div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Aquamarine</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">lucid</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> lucent</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> translucent</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> waves of the Pacific </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> jade, turquoise, aqua</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">sea foam <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> in the air </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> sea foam <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> on my skin</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I dance on the currents </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> floating with the relentless motion</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">sea foam <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> on my skin</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> sea foam <span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> in the air</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Aphrodite comes up from the ocean</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> carried on a dazzling shell by dolphins </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> the wisest of creatures</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">lucid</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> lucent</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> translucent</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">fizzy bubbles on my tongue – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> I swim in the champagne ocean</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Salt of the Sol – sunshine of vitality</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> I praise the elemental power of Water – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Air – Wind – Earth – Fire</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> always Fire – ogień, Agni</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">eternal flames stir the waves </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> into dancing </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> on and on</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span> to the shore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> to the shore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">(c) 2020 by Maja Trochimczyk</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Published in "Blue and the Blues" anthology edited by Carole Boyce</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6u5AA3xGll5HsJjnGfemV7G0pVE758MYOjfa8ZDuuVQOi107q772_zA1X9s262Xpr7fw8YJS6pJU_UfBuxdGb88GvGikj_LR_56DjXd-iBsvqpu6xgr4y-LHnOsblz1iodP_YAXdCc-M/s2048/IMG_6822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6u5AA3xGll5HsJjnGfemV7G0pVE758MYOjfa8ZDuuVQOi107q772_zA1X9s262Xpr7fw8YJS6pJU_UfBuxdGb88GvGikj_LR_56DjXd-iBsvqpu6xgr4y-LHnOsblz1iodP_YAXdCc-M/w400-h300/IMG_6822.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknXb0DqMZSj3DOMXcTt7lDxfg2irbbzJUFa3IStYlVz0VO5X0LHXGKsV1zT-WMeldBF_VFDHp9gnEgPflVPHoaCkAIk_1fKSquIM1osW2irJ02zF52gnbBmed5fRLvPVc37MGKDHXYXc/s2048/IMG_6827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknXb0DqMZSj3DOMXcTt7lDxfg2irbbzJUFa3IStYlVz0VO5X0LHXGKsV1zT-WMeldBF_VFDHp9gnEgPflVPHoaCkAIk_1fKSquIM1osW2irJ02zF52gnbBmed5fRLvPVc37MGKDHXYXc/w400-h300/IMG_6827.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79ZrQF2cNZuWlK703mcrYiJB7ge18t10HPAX9NP-nSFg6SFukV8xcrW41RnIFYbkil5h1gS4CIqdmDaxzJewM4dRMgPiVsc7W_TM-wAS4l-icn3EGq0nOeifo2LPYqlWb-EccilrijoA/s2048/IMG_6839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79ZrQF2cNZuWlK703mcrYiJB7ge18t10HPAX9NP-nSFg6SFukV8xcrW41RnIFYbkil5h1gS4CIqdmDaxzJewM4dRMgPiVsc7W_TM-wAS4l-icn3EGq0nOeifo2LPYqlWb-EccilrijoA/w400-h300/IMG_6839.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-68845016767776730122021-06-23T13:13:00.001-07:002021-08-23T09:19:10.378-07:00Greening the Green, or on Summer in the Garden<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2kXyc9sNvPRIVKunvrJubkVSWTDjB9KRyzHs2RapfOwmi13kF88-JqGkilgacwSet2qrLwVMKat4QzyGRGTF4rHZCuVQU6My3BzSr8q_M99W2I2tCBRLfLfYoEFGr3Fc6T3A2_6qd3g/s2048/IMG_6122.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2kXyc9sNvPRIVKunvrJubkVSWTDjB9KRyzHs2RapfOwmi13kF88-JqGkilgacwSet2qrLwVMKat4QzyGRGTF4rHZCuVQU6My3BzSr8q_M99W2I2tCBRLfLfYoEFGr3Fc6T3A2_6qd3g/w400-h300/IMG_6122.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p><span>What better place to live in than a garden, in the mountains, away from the bustle of the city? That's why the Paradise, Eden, was a garden - nature shaped, nurtured and cared for by people. My garden is my hermitage, my refuge, my "safe place" that we hear so much about everywhere these days. "Safe" - because I made it safe for all the winged and four-legged visitors, even two wild hares that hide under the rosemary bushes when not nibbling on the grass. Dozens of birds and lizards take care of insects, so I do not need to spray toxins on the living plants. Their green hues vary from jade to emerald, always reminding me that the "heart chakra" is green, for unconditional love is "green" and plants give all fauna nourishment and healing, not just the oxygen we need to breathe...</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Here, Here, Here</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>I love my mountains —</p><p>blue and spring green still</p><p>under clear azure expanse.</p><p>Their velvet pleats pile up</p><p>in layers above the valley.</p><p>Rocky paths entwine </p><p>in empty riverbeds.</p><p><br /></p><p>This is the Earth—naked</p><p>free of trees and houses, of rush</p><p>and pavement and cars on hot asphalt</p><p>in LA summers—this is</p><p>pure repose—serenely breathing</p><p>in the cycle of centuries.</p><p><br /></p><p>I love my mountains—</p><p>bluish shadows on distant slopes,</p><p>manzanita and sage scattered </p><p>on those close by—they open</p><p>like curtains into infinity to let me in,</p><p>beyond the next peak, the next canyon,</p><p>into new worlds revealed under cool </p><p>glow of spiraling galaxies before dawn.</p><p><br /></p><p>I found my life waiting for me </p><p>under the indigo cupola outlined </p><p>with deep purple at the ridges—</p><p>where crickets measure the night </p><p>as they sing "we are here, here, here..." </p><p>while birds sleep, hidden </p><p>among branches.</p><p><br /></p><p>Only the distant waves of truck noise</p><p>from the freeway remind me</p><p><br /></p><p>that this paradise of mine</p><p>this magic, fluid, living, folding </p><p>and unfolding is my LA home —</p><p>my own LA LA Land, sheltered </p><p>by spring mountains, blossoming</p><p>in mellow light of the kindest of Suns.</p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEdTkMElkich03Z_6WygJCUFe1XZpMZO-nEQzGVqOMwNx3VVMjCZqUk3adBy-Vbe9vzhtSv9yeO23hkUnAUMv5Pt4yhw1MoVz0gHhPQQdI9nmi95oT-ZfExfxT0Al-JZKUx_KEQK7Hv8/s2048/IMG_6121.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEdTkMElkich03Z_6WygJCUFe1XZpMZO-nEQzGVqOMwNx3VVMjCZqUk3adBy-Vbe9vzhtSv9yeO23hkUnAUMv5Pt4yhw1MoVz0gHhPQQdI9nmi95oT-ZfExfxT0Al-JZKUx_KEQK7Hv8/w400-h400/IMG_6121.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Our community lost a great person, a wonderful volunteer and kind, thoughtful, quiet, insightful friend. Halina Wojcik helped with the Polish Film Festival and cooked fantastic dishes. She was born in the village in Poland that was a couple of kilometers from my Grandma and Grandpa's village. So even in California we were neighbors... </p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Our Halina</span></b></p><p><br /></p><p>~ Halina Wójcik in memoriam</p><p><br /></p><p>She was quiet, she was nice, </p><p>too nice – not one to climb onto a pedestal </p><p>and scream “Look at me! Me, me, me — me!”</p><p>Hard to spot in a crowd, yet impossible to forget, </p><p>with the warmth of her open, glowing heart.</p><p><br /></p><p>She was quiet, thoughtful, kind. You could </p><p>trust her words of wisdom, full of insight, charm.</p><p>She would tell you what you did not know</p><p>about yourself, all the good things she noticed </p><p>and you missed – stuck in the quicksand of </p><p>ambition, deluded by a mirage of false light.</p><p><br /></p><p>Yes, attentive and discreet, she did not share </p><p>her observations, if the faults were harmless,</p><p>vices – plain ridiculous, without guile. </p><p><br /></p><p>She was helpful, she was sweet – liked </p><p>to welcome guests at a Polish gala, cook </p><p>gourmet meals for strangers, friends.</p><p>She was calm, delightful, witty – loved </p><p>by all she laughed with – children, pets, </p><p>fancy ladies in high heels and pearls.</p><p><br /></p><p>You could count on her when you felt – </p><p>feathers ruffled – out of place in your life.</p><p>With one word, she’d set you straight.</p><p><br /></p><p>How is it that such calm, steady brightness </p><p>is not cherished more, when shining? Not until </p><p>it disappears in the shadows of long night? </p><p><br /></p><p>Let’s remember her wry amusement </p><p>with life’s follies, skillful hands of kitchen magic, </p><p>lively sparkle in her smiling, ageless eyes! </p><p><br /></p><p>Let’s all cheer our lovely angel – </p><p>Hali, Hali, Halina!</p><p><br /></p><p>© February 2021 by Maja Trochimczyk</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKid1DWvvoGDQ289BfFfj0DRy90BcUnEdWqQ3HxS8IeHTIMyvxZU8fFcpyvL0OiWvSxr0-dHHQld-CP-pR_rraMsyX8TFYFNQ_MiMdUoUlds-xYSGiMY9oPqUpqDUrpid4cdULVCZzps/s2048/IMG_6118.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKid1DWvvoGDQ289BfFfj0DRy90BcUnEdWqQ3HxS8IeHTIMyvxZU8fFcpyvL0OiWvSxr0-dHHQld-CP-pR_rraMsyX8TFYFNQ_MiMdUoUlds-xYSGiMY9oPqUpqDUrpid4cdULVCZzps/w400-h300/IMG_6118.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div>As president of California State Poetry Society, editor of California Quarterly and of the Poetry Letter, I get unsolicited books for review. I has a strange reaction to reading one of the submissions, and decided to put my thoughts into a poem, instead of a proper book review. It would not have been kind if I wrote that review, anyway.</div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">On Reading Gail Wronsky in this Universe</span></b></p><p> </p><p>Your blindness is self-inflicted, oh, teacher of generations,</p><p>hobbled by erudition – the blind leading the blind –</p><p>into the abyss – I’d like to say, but, no, just into a ditch</p><p>by the wayside, right next to the straight, white, sandy road</p><p>leading due East. As in Easter, or better still, the Sun Rising.</p><p> </p><p>How not to see the world as dying, shrouded in a fog of sophistry?</p><p>You simply have to stop cursing. You only have to bless it. Your words</p><p>transmute the air you breathe, crystallize in your water.</p><p> </p><p>Have you ever looked at the Sun, oh, poet of a thousand metaphors,</p><p>ten thousand accolades? Have you ever listened to that quiet voice,</p><p>wordlessly singing Hosanna? The Sun is Born. The Light so Bright.</p><p>The rays so full of little hands touching, caressing, smoothing out</p><p>each particle of matter twirling in its allotted space?</p><p> </p><p>Yes, I know, you have your themes – Apocalypse, aging, loss,</p><p>despair, genitalia…Yes, I know, everything has its price.</p><p>But how can you be so blind? Oh, poet of poets, the blind</p><p>leading the blind – into the abyss, I’d like to say, but, no,</p><p>into a ditch by the wayside.</p><p> </p><p>The path widens. Serene sages with sky-clear eyes</p><p>shine as lucid facets of endless, rotating crystal,</p><p>the living gem of our well-ordered Cosmos –</p><p>ruby, garnet, coral, amber, topaz, jade, emerald,</p><p>turquoise, sapphire, lapis-lazuli, amethyst and diamond</p><p>light streams swirl around the pilgrims, wrap them</p><p>in auroras of the sublime. Their rainbow bodies glow</p><p>golden-white – incandescent in morning sunshine.</p><p> </p><p>Each one – a spark of the Divine, dressed in quarks</p><p>of the Divine Matter, for a test of the Divine Mind,</p><p>on an artery of the Divine Heart, along the ascending</p><p>road into the Divine Presence – all are jewels in the Divine</p><p>Crown – of the Here, of the Now, of We Are –</p><p><br /></p><p> Reprinted from the "Poetry Letter" No. 2, 2021</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqIkLTobWcAIbxY73MS1dfffg7_1C41ILGo7hmuYpxbtYF5zrT3LJM0dA2_lki3d8g4Cy7e6ys991foyvgSZnFKIuQRME-gT0dURQxPaOrU-qXP5cbq7L32FkAIqYCQ3TtqMObKBGnT0/s2048/IMG_6129.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqIkLTobWcAIbxY73MS1dfffg7_1C41ILGo7hmuYpxbtYF5zrT3LJM0dA2_lki3d8g4Cy7e6ys991foyvgSZnFKIuQRME-gT0dURQxPaOrU-qXP5cbq7L32FkAIqYCQ3TtqMObKBGnT0/w400-h300/IMG_6129.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>It is quite a feat to write love poems while living alone, after two divorces, in an empty nest. It is a nest full of birds and sunlight, so it is a great site for an imaginary romance. </p><p> <b> <span style="font-size: medium;">This Afternoon</span></b></p><p> <i>You are the music while the music lasts.</i></p><p> ~ T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding</p><p><br /></p><p>The woodpecker measures time by the thickness</p><p>of tree trunks. Birds make nests, hidden from</p><p>hawks, safe from scrub jays. We wake in sunlight,</p><p>with twirling patterns still under our closed eyelids.</p><p><br /></p><p>We listen to high-pitched calls of hummingbirds,</p><p>the random flutter of wings. We breathe in spring air</p><p>with smoothly flowing melodies of birdsong,</p><p>the sweetest of nectars. Waves crash on distant shores</p><p>of the Pacific. Stars appear dimly above the horizon,</p><p>that glows with the bronzed orange of departing Sun.</p><p><br /></p><p>We live on the planet of children’s laughter.</p><p>We watch refractions of light in my sapphire ring,</p><p>on diamond dew drops that cling to blades of grass,</p><p>half-opened roses. We live on Earth of abundance</p><p>and beauty. We live on Earth of plenitude and calm.</p><p><br /></p><p>There are no sorrows here, no worries.</p><p>No before, nor after. No plans. We take deep</p><p>breaths, count to eight, inhaling smiles to the tips</p><p>of our fingers, into our toes. I laugh. You laugh.</p><p>Crystalline peals echo through the Universe –</p><p>from galaxy to galaxy, star to star.</p><p><br /></p><p>We grow and grow – infinite, gentler, wiser –</p><p>we understand all, embrace all, know all.</p><p>Perfection. Presence. Light.</p><p><br /></p><p>(C) 2020 from <i>Rose Always - A Love Story</i> (rev. 2020) </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmubBHVFYKNJtfc2icTKorumwOPgTuXIo8cQuO0u0PrWb0tQCACSEeNn8wUr4rdGGsXkUOQ0gxhkM5ToO5K-e4HJbP0qqI545MiD89esrgY14ePAbRJHxDklfYCXaGtOSozwvhvinzPps/s2048/IMG_6117.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmubBHVFYKNJtfc2icTKorumwOPgTuXIo8cQuO0u0PrWb0tQCACSEeNn8wUr4rdGGsXkUOQ0gxhkM5ToO5K-e4HJbP0qqI545MiD89esrgY14ePAbRJHxDklfYCXaGtOSozwvhvinzPps/w400-h300/IMG_6117.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-75472071474071726592021-04-29T22:23:00.004-07:002021-04-29T22:23:30.986-07:00New e-book edition of "The Rainy Bread: Poems from Exile" with 30 new poems! <p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh564g9rWhxtO0qNL0QmhNAkjDM5l2yh5W5BHfdaao4o5DehhVxR6GZCW1UPUzScKfAfK-QHthTR4z0RyhD96Nh_GxuagAxsAiUrh0DdPoKsW_kU3u8VNkN5qwp664qbP7S69Yud7ETCw/s2048/The+Rainy+BreadCOVEREBOOK.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh564g9rWhxtO0qNL0QmhNAkjDM5l2yh5W5BHfdaao4o5DehhVxR6GZCW1UPUzScKfAfK-QHthTR4z0RyhD96Nh_GxuagAxsAiUrh0DdPoKsW_kU3u8VNkN5qwp664qbP7S69Yud7ETCw/w308-h400/The+Rainy+BreadCOVEREBOOK.jpg" width="308" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/12jyvn85"><span style="font-family: georgia;">https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/12jyvn85</span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span color="rgba(10, 16, 26, 0.7)" style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">ISBN </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0a101a; text-align: left;">978-1-945938-01-6</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0a101a; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Enlarged edition, April 2021</span></span></div><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>The Rainy Bread: Poems of Exile, </i>a poetry collection by Maja Trochimczyk has been enlarged by 30 poems and reorganized into six parts. An updated e-book is available. The book now includes 60 poems about forgotten stories of Poles living under the Soviet and German occupation during WWII, especially in the Eastern Borderlands of Kresy. They were killed, deported, imprisoned, or oppressed after the invasion of Poland by Germany on September 1, 1039 and by the invasion by the Soviet Union on September 17, 1939. Some of these brief portraits capture the trauma and resilience, ordeals and miraculous survival stories of the author’s immediate family. Their experiences of displacement, hunger, cold, and poverty during the war are typical of Polish civilians. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqEzUZfSmuU7QdXsoDqtznO_wVhSjCjFyG_yju51I1QxisvQWkOO-noE-TZTUX2mNkx8NBy3iDfnA1PF0pkWAmH-eH_ln2EmGaChyphenhyphenwk7JzMJb7oImWv9HGZnG7sGXmozYLkrJiljdxg/s150/147maria.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="113" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqEzUZfSmuU7QdXsoDqtznO_wVhSjCjFyG_yju51I1QxisvQWkOO-noE-TZTUX2mNkx8NBy3iDfnA1PF0pkWAmH-eH_ln2EmGaChyphenhyphenwk7JzMJb7oImWv9HGZnG7sGXmozYLkrJiljdxg/w241-h320/147maria.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Author's Grandma Maria Anna Wajszczuk, b. Wasiuk (1906-1973)</div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">These fictionalized fact-based memories are coupled with depictions of survival of other Poles deported to Siberia, the Arctic Circle, or Kazakhstan; those left the Soviet Union with the Second Corps of the Polish Army under the command of General Władysław Anders; those who were transported to refugee camps in India or Africa; and ended up in Argentina, Canada, Australia or the U.S.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8u-t62QQVS1XRGx7IMOBucKgLqFDg9udUk5YU6TgBNRApxMwmviC9JxgGiONYMagcX4rtCPysBXPf0_xl-nqaXvFA-pm1QLG9kW48UoED2f52QaIzC_ZV4DFXPphA8WWAteLVZ7tAg/s3264/IMG_0970.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv8u-t62QQVS1XRGx7IMOBucKgLqFDg9udUk5YU6TgBNRApxMwmviC9JxgGiONYMagcX4rtCPysBXPf0_xl-nqaXvFA-pm1QLG9kW48UoED2f52QaIzC_ZV4DFXPphA8WWAteLVZ7tAg/w400-h300/IMG_0970.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A monument to Polish civilians shot by Germans during Warsaw Uprising.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The book is a companion to “Slicing the Bread” (2014), with which it shares some poems, including vignettes from the author’s childhood in Warsaw. Organized into six parts - Destinations, Nowhere, Hunger Years, Resilience, There and Back, What Remains, the updated book follows a trajectory of descent into the hell of deportations, imprisonment, hunger, mass murder, and ascent into resilience and survival. The dark rain of sorrow changes into the diamond rain of delight with life.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha47d_cuRd58vUl-qc_t47UheBKeMQt8SD7vSnUBLBcXgjxuUZwdlRIdh2AD4jlLT0LtWwoUA2Ej1dA8bnfG7IimdJpZVI2SU-EWk7IaIQd5RjqJk0gr9e6ruigNTdZm7zpoGkhrGaQQ/s1280/IMG_1812.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha47d_cuRd58vUl-qc_t47UheBKeMQt8SD7vSnUBLBcXgjxuUZwdlRIdh2AD4jlLT0LtWwoUA2Ej1dA8bnfG7IimdJpZVI2SU-EWk7IaIQd5RjqJk0gr9e6ruigNTdZm7zpoGkhrGaQQ/w400-h300/IMG_1812.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b style="font-family: georgia;">ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Maja Trochimczyk, Ph.D., is a Polish American poet, music historian, photographer, and author of seven books on music, most recently “Gorecki in Context: Essays on Music” (2017) and “Frédéric Chopin: A Research and Information Guide” (co-edited with William Smialek, rev. ed., 2015). She currently serves as the President of the California State Poetry Society, managing editor of the California Quarterly, and President of the Helena Modjeska Art and Culture Club in Los Angeles, promoting Polish culture in California. Trochimczyk’s nine books of poetry include “Rose Always,” “Miriam’s Iris,” “Slicing the Bread,” “Into Light”, and four anthologies, “Chopin with Cherries” (2010), “Meditations on Divine Names” (2012), “Grateful Conversations: A Poetry Anthology” (2018) and “We Are Here: Village Poets Anthology” (2020). This is her ninth poetry collection.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95PXg05FBBxa-o_7H997LZOXbceyOnCzL32t8rto-Ui5PzgGtM_OaabYAyZyob0wtxmz3DPKU4AZnSTcFi6DkWrB9Vej1BOi716WqCNqojfoHz1KnGkG_MF44Uh0AqJLm7Z3fVEY_9g/s3264/IMG_4376.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95PXg05FBBxa-o_7H997LZOXbceyOnCzL32t8rto-Ui5PzgGtM_OaabYAyZyob0wtxmz3DPKU4AZnSTcFi6DkWrB9Vej1BOi716WqCNqojfoHz1KnGkG_MF44Uh0AqJLm7Z3fVEY_9g/w400-h300/IMG_4376.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nike - Monument to Warsaw Uprising, Warsaw, 2014.</div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia;">SAMPLE NEW POEMS</span></b><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>≡ PANI BASIA ≡</b></span></p><p><i style="font-family: georgia;">~ in memoriam Barbara Wysocka, “Irma” soldier in the Warsaw </i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i> Uprising, prisoner of Stutthof Camp (1927-1997) </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Who was this stranger at Christmas Eve dinners? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">A tall, stern lady who did not smile or talk to children. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Distinguished. Distant. Too stiff for hugging. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She looked at us as if from another planet. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She ate her food slowly, methodically,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">relishing each sip of the hot beet soup, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">gingerly picking fishbones out of carp in aspic. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">An aura of loneliness spread out around her. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Why did Mom take her for vacation to Abu Dhabi,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">on an exotic adventure, to see red sands, palms, camels?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The answer waited for decades in packets </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of old letters, medals earned during the war. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She was “Irma,” a teen liaison for Division Baszta </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">in Mokotów. Fought to the end, Warsaw’s fall. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Imprisoned in the Stutthof Concentration Camp. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Her whole family perished. All alone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Never married. Wrapped in her grief </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">like a cashmere shawl.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">On her vacation in Persian Gulf, she saw </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">wobbly camels race – and finally laughed. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjNtCk2mkAxQxPPgfPIBqfazIWLJplc5ElECSBf7p9zEnGWhA8VJZy_I1hI3VipDSmbqqIjGm-K-pxOmIdWzVcv6rHU-z0F-or59yiSjslrhkfq8cI0RnFmLbfjQtiYzcyqnoXCE9eg/s3264/IMG_2919.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjNtCk2mkAxQxPPgfPIBqfazIWLJplc5ElECSBf7p9zEnGWhA8VJZy_I1hI3VipDSmbqqIjGm-K-pxOmIdWzVcv6rHU-z0F-or59yiSjslrhkfq8cI0RnFmLbfjQtiYzcyqnoXCE9eg/w300-h400/IMG_2919.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A monument to Polish civilians shot by Germans during Warsaw Uprising</div><br /><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia;"> ≡ THIRTY SIX ≡</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The number is thirty-six. Not thirty and </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Not thirty-seven. Thirty-six. That’s how many </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">lives they saved, sheltering them in secret, finding</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">more food, more clothing for the ghetto escapees. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Doctor Alicja and Mr. Marian Burakowski at your service. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Unsung heroes, nearly forgotten, except for </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">that tree planted in Yad Vashem’ garden in 1983. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Righteous among the Nations. No. 2480 on the list </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of the bravest people the world has ever known.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Think of the sheer audacity of what they did. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The number is thirty-six. Not thirty and not thirty-seven. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">How many Jews would you have saved, if your own life, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">and that of all your children, your whole family, were at stake? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Germans declared a mandatory death sentence, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">for this crime, if caught. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Do not forget their names, then, Alicja and Marian</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Dr. and Mr. Burakowski at your service.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The number is thirty-six.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNycYMQ6kiFvZ2MG3u358jIaMgkeKT3jlz0Fi66ea1Upur-vqcJxxqOsHpJAWOdGj17kS93s6dCu575vnLupazZgDraQxtafqEO-QiIy5yz1rLTQdOqsatePbzJT6nE3_JhvQBM2kpbg/s348/HankaOrdonowsna_arm.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="348" data-original-width="250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNycYMQ6kiFvZ2MG3u358jIaMgkeKT3jlz0Fi66ea1Upur-vqcJxxqOsHpJAWOdGj17kS93s6dCu575vnLupazZgDraQxtafqEO-QiIy5yz1rLTQdOqsatePbzJT6nE3_JhvQBM2kpbg/w288-h400/HankaOrdonowsna_arm.jpg" width="288" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /> </span><p></p><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">≡ THE GREATEST SONG ≡</span></b></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> ~ for Hanka Ordonówna, a humanitarian star (1902-1950)</span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Miłość Ci wszystko wybaczy… Love will forgive you everything. . .</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The refrain of Poland’s most famous song</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">echoes through her memory, as she listens </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">to the stories of war orphans – covered in</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">wounds and lice, starved to skeletons, yet</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">finding time to play. They asked her to sing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ordonka, she used to be in another life, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">on a different timeline, another planet, perhaps – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">its very existence impossible to believe in, here </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">on the train with orphans, on the way to a refugee</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">camp in India – in a coarse military uniform instead </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of silks, pearl strings, shawls, and ostrich feathers.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Champagne for the greatest star! Balls and revues</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">for the beloved singer of perfect Love! Such charm! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She found refuge in Beirut, her final stop, Paris </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">of the Levant. There was no Poland to return to, after </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Stalin’s tanks rolled in to stay for 45 years. She did not </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">make it. She did not feel like wearing silks, feathers, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">pearls – after the orphans that survived their odyssey </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">went somewhere else to become someone else – not </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">her lost Polish children, smiling with delight as she sang.</span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Miłość ci wszystko wybaczy… bo miłość, moj miły, to ja!</span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Love will forgive you everything. . . for Love, my dear, I’m Love!</span></i></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">NOTE: Read a summary of her story by Irene Tomaszewski, "The Cabaret Star and the Orphans: From Warsaw to India</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">" <i>Cosmopolitan Review,</i> vol. 5 no.2 (June 2013). </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">http://cosmopolitanreview.com/hanka-ordonowna/</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhah92jlIM5sIcSnAybLTGGezPaTzlkSy-jjL7EVs9k0LxWF2Nvm76C6rJHPovHx-dg-Lzue-RdgQj4ejIqCVzGiVHkI9MCbWqc_tfkwohCkPCMn4BUCcHhxEQulm8oXCh1R8Hmfe1Atw/s3264/IMG_0967.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2448" data-original-width="3264" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhah92jlIM5sIcSnAybLTGGezPaTzlkSy-jjL7EVs9k0LxWF2Nvm76C6rJHPovHx-dg-Lzue-RdgQj4ejIqCVzGiVHkI9MCbWqc_tfkwohCkPCMn4BUCcHhxEQulm8oXCh1R8Hmfe1Atw/w400-h300/IMG_0967.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia;">≡ A PILOT IN PAKISTAN ≡</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">~ for pilot Zofia Turowicz (d.1980)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She learned to fly to have wings —</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">to look down at the rolling waves of mountains, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">the geometry of fields outlined by rivers, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">dotted by lakes. She longed to see where clouds</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">were born, and where they were going.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Today, she teaches soldiers of a foreign army</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">how to fly and kill, kill and fly away, unharmed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">They call it the dogfight, as in, dog </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">eats dog, the bigger dog,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">the faster dog, the dog </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">with sharper teeth. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The dogs of war.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Six years was enough. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Enough of this war.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She lost her home, her house, her childhood.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">She has no future. Alone, wearing blond curls </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">and the tight, belted uniform of a pilot</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">she’s teaching soldiers in a Muslim country </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">how to fly to war. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">NOTE: Pilot Zofia Turowicz was the wife of Władysław Józef Marian Turowicz (1908-1980), commander of about 30 Polish pilots that trained the newly formed Pakistani Air Force since 1948. He remained a PAF officer, and became the founder of Pakistani space program. <a href="https://www.compasstravelguide.net/curiosities/the-polish-pakistani-air-force/">https://www.compasstravelguide.net/curiosities/the-polish-pakistani-air-force/</a> </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7szFObKSXIsPwgJHXTWKCFXVPg8hPTJNenTLx2onAYhoOBmBzQtaLOxJwecqU-KHU1V7k856g8zWqz294uD-cJknssunX0oShc059dq-USzp1CBqJ-HX9EkQ6UgfkgV7LddUcxqmpQ/s3264/IMG_2887.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7szFObKSXIsPwgJHXTWKCFXVPg8hPTJNenTLx2onAYhoOBmBzQtaLOxJwecqU-KHU1V7k856g8zWqz294uD-cJknssunX0oShc059dq-USzp1CBqJ-HX9EkQ6UgfkgV7LddUcxqmpQ/w300-h400/IMG_2887.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><div><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-63439795288874989312021-03-24T10:26:00.013-07:002023-05-01T20:30:37.706-07:00Flying Kites Is... Pure Joy and Laughter in the Sun<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJm9H6AzcYr3Riu3-4kzxengSnqG2XpyfLv34ATu3jHhsPYT-zzZ7ojjwCLR78P1yx_TFOz1doHWBF4Cwf2pI-npG_wp1C14u9HHZQ858ORGBSTIjxQ620JZbXOH8cfa4FAzZZoZjrnw/s1280/IMG_4645.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeJm9H6AzcYr3Riu3-4kzxengSnqG2XpyfLv34ATu3jHhsPYT-zzZ7ojjwCLR78P1yx_TFOz1doHWBF4Cwf2pI-npG_wp1C14u9HHZQ858ORGBSTIjxQ620JZbXOH8cfa4FAzZZoZjrnw/w300-h400/IMG_4645.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: left;">It is an amazing experience to fly a kite... A month, two months passed, and I'm still playing with kites at least twice per week, every week. In my previous post, I showed you my six kites and what they could do. Some had issues, were unbalanced and crashed too frequently instead of soaring high above. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0d4cToSIBRbO4JmQsaLS9klxUzQvKxtR-8e69sDgumqhc-GGAPCq7-_z-m_5XQyy-plE2INQdTiOGpi8BeyPFsajtw24rfw3kGLLZ9zAFIKomeXrzp8SoawdbHqmODoVx6janCUNezY/s2048/IMG_4280.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm0d4cToSIBRbO4JmQsaLS9klxUzQvKxtR-8e69sDgumqhc-GGAPCq7-_z-m_5XQyy-plE2INQdTiOGpi8BeyPFsajtw24rfw3kGLLZ9zAFIKomeXrzp8SoawdbHqmODoVx6janCUNezY/s320/IMG_4280.JPG" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p>First, I worked on the butterfly a bit and cut its streamers in half, adding a central set, as well as two googly eyes, so the weight would be distributed better, with more weight in the center, and the extra streamers to stabilize the flight. And so they did. The blue Butterfly stopped flipping over and crashing within 10 seconds of lifting up, instead, it soared towards the sun. </p><div><p>The Blue Butterfly 1: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/IknSaGveNHo" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/IknSaGveNHo</a></p><p>The Blue Butterfly 2: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE</a></p></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzIQYT_IOe5dZ5j_kkOcIqA1ZJ7Josw-Iff9d0yIzgO9TSOGsOpf6NDq354KVuwfh9ACftCTXHL3fmxanEBce6TZLngP9OmaG0eIZY8IGF3rlVpzoN4S0byZDeFIvuO4hhx-yCFntffk/s1300/IMG_4617_opt+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="1108" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzIQYT_IOe5dZ5j_kkOcIqA1ZJ7Josw-Iff9d0yIzgO9TSOGsOpf6NDq354KVuwfh9ACftCTXHL3fmxanEBce6TZLngP9OmaG0eIZY8IGF3rlVpzoN4S0byZDeFIvuO4hhx-yCFntffk/w341-h400/IMG_4617_opt+%25281%2529.jpg" width="341" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>The Butterfly soared next to a column of light, a huge ray shining straight down, so dazzling bright! The sky was clear of any chemical garbage that day, and brightened by light at one p.m.<br /></p><p>The Laughing Dolphin soared in sunlight, too. How light, how beautiful. The wind was dying out, though, so the Dolphin landed while I filmed it. Pure joy of flight. </p><p>Laughing Dolphin 4: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IsKZirQvOUhUZNobnswV0bJ0ARXWnmB9-WFbk2dh5WLBifzXTrkHQrCmI86sWj_AKuuTxBN718ruW9pTI2hQ7BcagqVk69elwu9gpX8MoD2z8Y5ugajBdV-i68a_EM62hCOTh154_Do/s1714/IMG_4146_opt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1714" data-original-width="1407" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IsKZirQvOUhUZNobnswV0bJ0ARXWnmB9-WFbk2dh5WLBifzXTrkHQrCmI86sWj_AKuuTxBN718ruW9pTI2hQ7BcagqVk69elwu9gpX8MoD2z8Y5ugajBdV-i68a_EM62hCOTh154_Do/w329-h400/IMG_4146_opt.jpg" width="329" /></a></div><br /><p>Later, I replaced the very long and heavy tail ribbons, so it could be easier for the kite to take off. Taller than me, and narrow, the dolphin does not have enough wing "acreage" for proper lift-off. However, once up in the air, it flies around, swooping and diving, making huge circles above the ground. This means, it is not stable and well balanced yet. More work on the ribbons, then. When the moon is out at daytime, the dolphin laughs right next to it. So cute! </p><p>Laughing Dolphin 5: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts</a>, dance around the moon.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCyT8D4KuwuFIalztiL0wnJiflu6IuCh09fOnUwVxGnwN-Q7C16WJ97BU0Lw9gS-cpNYwpGmiD1ZBsNxvKZhpx-rx1YfUE_-r6bZoydUSkI3zZWdR9l69n0FrnujHpPRminXHDGYu_24/s2048/IMG_5010.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCyT8D4KuwuFIalztiL0wnJiflu6IuCh09fOnUwVxGnwN-Q7C16WJ97BU0Lw9gS-cpNYwpGmiD1ZBsNxvKZhpx-rx1YfUE_-r6bZoydUSkI3zZWdR9l69n0FrnujHpPRminXHDGYu_24/w400-h400/IMG_5010.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Two weeks later, I went to Hermosa Beach with kids and had not one, but three kites in the air at the same time. The ocean breeze blows steadily inland, much stronger and steadier than the twirling winds in the foothills, affected by the topography of the hills and valleys. My diamond rainbow kite, the simplest one, was accompanied by the sharkie with geometric patterns, and the blue butterfly. After I tied them up to our beach tent, they were up in the air for several hours, floating this way and that... </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUzOKxReRR3oh4c1QyrnHx3JSI4wrvWC2VoABJ20gMCSROVQ5OPd0HS3ed9aUxcZfxE9tvtCRQ7lpXo_5GNyIhK5V3my46qwmw_IlA41MPITBO0ZLY3TBY5LtiE1cH_jCPDPONMN8URI/s2048/IMG_4817.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUzOKxReRR3oh4c1QyrnHx3JSI4wrvWC2VoABJ20gMCSROVQ5OPd0HS3ed9aUxcZfxE9tvtCRQ7lpXo_5GNyIhK5V3my46qwmw_IlA41MPITBO0ZLY3TBY5LtiE1cH_jCPDPONMN8URI/w300-h400/IMG_4817.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0</a> Three kites in Hermosa Beach</p><p><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY</a> Three kites in Hermosa Beach 2</p><p><a href="https://youtu.be/moww1KD2xGs">https://youtu.be/moww1KD2xGs</a> Three kites in Hermosa Beach 3</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; line-height: 17.12px;"></span></p><p>When the wind got too strong and the butterfly wings bent too much, it started veering to the right and threatening to crash among the beach-goers. So, I had to take it down, and replaced it with the swirling circle, thinking that its stronger wiring would withhold the gusts of wind. Alas, it did not fly too high either. . . </p><p>After getting back to my favorite kiting grounds on the Trail of the Valley in Big Tujunga Wash, I played again with the dolphin. The long, heavy, plastic ribbons made it hard for the kite to take off, so I replaced them with bunches of semi-transparent fabric ribbons, sparkling in sunlight.</p><p>Finally, I was able to write a poem about flying kites. I will add it to my "The Rainy Bread" collection of war-themed, tragic and dramatic poems. It will provide some uplift at the end. With a bit of thin paper, string, sticks and glue, you can fly a kite even during the worst times, and it will take your spirit soaring among the clouds...</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; line-height: 17.12px;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlIzH0hLgk80tjGX7J20q7_Z6TaFtLbdMTGaH6XPKCaL29qvO3FZkDYDG9QsbcGOFEKcwTFFCOqkRIiCdxrGKxdYAK0EXPS7_LIJ6eCsJRcmN26YPvtAnrEm8Bk29rhdY8WHMluqNfRA/s2016/IMG_4924.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlIzH0hLgk80tjGX7J20q7_Z6TaFtLbdMTGaH6XPKCaL29qvO3FZkDYDG9QsbcGOFEKcwTFFCOqkRIiCdxrGKxdYAK0EXPS7_LIJ6eCsJRcmN26YPvtAnrEm8Bk29rhdY8WHMluqNfRA/w400-h300/IMG_4924.JPG" width="400" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: medium;"><b>≡ FLYING KITES... ≡</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">My kites respond faithfully to each tug of the string, </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>like pets on a leash. Sometimes, they wantonly resist </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>the pull, to crash-land on brush-covered hillside. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAHdHQ8JLZ7uk6m77N8-wZC4FN0a_faOkNg1U_qC_M1GcdIi2QsqeVNyYu1rF-f3qWLlhiggOpP54vc6N7vyM2dIJWdVOgUshElCgvRWRGZNQZRcnNJPTTqEA8_6I2eY4bwDikIJECzo/s2048/IMG_4149.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMAHdHQ8JLZ7uk6m77N8-wZC4FN0a_faOkNg1U_qC_M1GcdIi2QsqeVNyYu1rF-f3qWLlhiggOpP54vc6N7vyM2dIJWdVOgUshElCgvRWRGZNQZRcnNJPTTqEA8_6I2eY4bwDikIJECzo/w400-h300/IMG_4149.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>The strange, geometric delta champion, with black-and-white</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>checkers on its chest, rainbow wings and tail, flaps its fins </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>as a flying fish that floats higher and higher, into the azure.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>The swirling circle, a tribute to the ingenuity of unknown</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>engineers, is an air turbine, turning so fast that it seems ready </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>to power a lightbulb or open a portal to another universe.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>The green baby dragon with red wingtips and streamers </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>capriciously turns here and there. Unstable, garishly bright, </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>it falls suddenly onto a thicket of dry chaparral bushes. </b></span></p><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></b></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHydYHQAuTPGkO6pGPvt3cnt4ktKEX9zEBxNWGJ7MZBZSuxtGA6t-0KtGfLWtGyX2xyj2LqmD1Am0AcmPTRUZii8OHF2axNpV-T1haeeWUP-kt0VopkMlhUanP9J_vC94SqjlN2yBgLXs/s2048/IMG_4877.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHydYHQAuTPGkO6pGPvt3cnt4ktKEX9zEBxNWGJ7MZBZSuxtGA6t-0KtGfLWtGyX2xyj2LqmD1Am0AcmPTRUZii8OHF2axNpV-T1haeeWUP-kt0VopkMlhUanP9J_vC94SqjlN2yBgLXs/w300-h400/IMG_4877.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>The golden macaw, enormous and silent, is so different </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>from its loud, obnoxious cousins. My parrot blissfully swings </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>from left to right, in an ethereal waltz of gold and red ribbons. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEZQ-WOwO5QBKX7vW6t7KFHAX0IMQU_O2yjMAt7HZmrICXYnLpiZteD6tn3JnXj5YOt0jbcTupUcmzj69I13h8064bdKFB6xiBK2CVD-Qv8NyZfEkU_TRr6Jvw__2yUr8gEUNDrHMPgo/s2048/IMG_3420.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEZQ-WOwO5QBKX7vW6t7KFHAX0IMQU_O2yjMAt7HZmrICXYnLpiZteD6tn3JnXj5YOt0jbcTupUcmzj69I13h8064bdKFB6xiBK2CVD-Qv8NyZfEkU_TRr6Jvw__2yUr8gEUNDrHMPgo/w400-h300/IMG_3420.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">The laughing dolphin soars straight up – I look up to follow </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>the pathway of this magnificent guardian of the world, </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>crossing the ocean of air, so alive in oxygen blue.</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPI6-0Z5EBdDbdfOUFJbvbcWrTclSAvXsVf7M61boJcBP43g2BC5j9XL29uVwkQj3-D5y6dXtp9whJkLlAI7QSh4u6_0tdKY-eb-TOoFVAQEzNxkWl60Re0238iJU4u7u-oLM1N_xh7g4/s2048/IMG_5013.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPI6-0Z5EBdDbdfOUFJbvbcWrTclSAvXsVf7M61boJcBP43g2BC5j9XL29uVwkQj3-D5y6dXtp9whJkLlAI7QSh4u6_0tdKY-eb-TOoFVAQEzNxkWl60Re0238iJU4u7u-oLM1N_xh7g4/w400-h400/IMG_5013.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span><p></p><div><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Flying kites is defying gravity. Flying kites is pure joy. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>This is freedom itself, soaring towards the Sun, </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>circling around the Moon, tracing patterns among clouds. </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurMXYYxXlyLxZHHxWfAFurZ55BTMaClB7TybxlaWeb6WuwmpSyy4qscKOcNFkKlHTlnZyb8Vhlm4stfshw1GOjV-WM1maEBdCIEanlIeWB2C68sf_N5vpafuXdKCR_Amx8avpyVZ5-vA/s2048/IMG_4840.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurMXYYxXlyLxZHHxWfAFurZ55BTMaClB7TybxlaWeb6WuwmpSyy4qscKOcNFkKlHTlnZyb8Vhlm4stfshw1GOjV-WM1maEBdCIEanlIeWB2C68sf_N5vpafuXdKCR_Amx8avpyVZ5-vA/w400-h300/IMG_4840.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /><b><br /></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>My favorite is the simple diamond of colorful squares –</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">red, yellow, green, blue, violet – that shines in sunlight,</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">twirling on the end of its string, pointing the way home. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL5Aq9NkWeuPW8XtrTZZIeMAhppq2jEkll_h7ByI-cV99w_SiEaR93hR_RkD0PKWIZyEAJVaR_UvvwopoZE9KZH_lUxQbF3tKZTz8-XT5Aj3JIRBt1EVk0JDyp2iUHZRPm0olBet0HEM/s1714/IMG_3942_opt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1714" data-original-width="1714" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL5Aq9NkWeuPW8XtrTZZIeMAhppq2jEkll_h7ByI-cV99w_SiEaR93hR_RkD0PKWIZyEAJVaR_UvvwopoZE9KZH_lUxQbF3tKZTz8-XT5Aj3JIRBt1EVk0JDyp2iUHZRPm0olBet0HEM/w400-h400/IMG_3942_opt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></b><p></p><div><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><br /></b></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">We used to make such diamonds of thin balsa wood</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">sticks and light parchment paper, our hands stained by glue. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">The tail, a row of paper bowties tied to a string, undulated </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">above dark soil of potato fields, stretching to the horizon. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </b><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </b></p></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTmzQt5jXjBHUrw4RSh_jTTyIt9OAjttHo2xACit6OHRa_8RMLzlyEnx9d0cVuxY4xXeEQ9DtQfGfzY-QhXz3z2KLDxxLxIsd3I_XhNUgwZkSo-V8mv8aIlEuBHoQvTvUj_NWhyphenhyphen2i2Rw/s2048/IMG_4819.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbTmzQt5jXjBHUrw4RSh_jTTyIt9OAjttHo2xACit6OHRa_8RMLzlyEnx9d0cVuxY4xXeEQ9DtQfGfzY-QhXz3z2KLDxxLxIsd3I_XhNUgwZkSo-V8mv8aIlEuBHoQvTvUj_NWhyphenhyphen2i2Rw/w400-h400/IMG_4819.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Flying kites is like love making to the air –</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">a dance of give and take – moving, shifting along</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">air currents that swirl above the hills at sunset.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Flying kites is an apology for years lost to not being </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">little children that skip along the path, straight to heaven. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Flying kites is prayer, supplication, hymn of praise. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZ_m_xVQgJFQQYltrNpiNzKWt_H7uDIfwgAJ8CSrTKmuBG1RaSh0ilUJJMCFPx-3FoXzOX8ITptlUe04RUIJwdhOngWxGNN11hmVtJwtxOtXgE23spBHbueKyKEXHy20-BVv7JWLyaII/s2048/IMG_4836.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZ_m_xVQgJFQQYltrNpiNzKWt_H7uDIfwgAJ8CSrTKmuBG1RaSh0ilUJJMCFPx-3FoXzOX8ITptlUe04RUIJwdhOngWxGNN11hmVtJwtxOtXgE23spBHbueKyKEXHy20-BVv7JWLyaII/w400-h300/IMG_4836.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">Flying kites is defying gravity. Flying kites is pure joy. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">This is freedom itself, soaring towards the setting Sun, </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">circling around the Moon, tracing patterns among clouds. </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>It is like swimming in the air, below a violet butterfly </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">with outstretched wings, ascending into the purity of distance, </b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">along </b><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;">the pillar of light that connects the Earth and the Sky.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVyD4J9i4rq264Qq3W5X0DXIwLcM9hrvR9mmRVbvv1y0DnNTp4vwTHkXJLyTRJdBnB5AADKLV9nGlqOBYxKEiND3zJOpdbPDux12izMSPeJWQc9KjfToGbIon7wRFLaOYR8-fpdGKcNQ/s2000/IMG_4618_opt+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVyD4J9i4rq264Qq3W5X0DXIwLcM9hrvR9mmRVbvv1y0DnNTp4vwTHkXJLyTRJdBnB5AADKLV9nGlqOBYxKEiND3zJOpdbPDux12izMSPeJWQc9KjfToGbIon7wRFLaOYR8-fpdGKcNQ/w400-h300/IMG_4618_opt+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-BBopWpSr7l-fibAxO3zrdY8bMtmNqM-BDk0uAr_4dUvWDu3XdW01YPxvHUPik7mQ4838H94d3wCU-oNk-JlYUh1fmgEdC8ZF343y1eX5GgYtYp6-BAn_qw83iQv1up56LoTc7OBS2w/s1477/IMG_4522_opt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1477" data-original-width="1283" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-BBopWpSr7l-fibAxO3zrdY8bMtmNqM-BDk0uAr_4dUvWDu3XdW01YPxvHUPik7mQ4838H94d3wCU-oNk-JlYUh1fmgEdC8ZF343y1eX5GgYtYp6-BAn_qw83iQv1up56LoTc7OBS2w/w557-h640/IMG_4522_opt.jpg" width="557" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Flying kites on the beach and in the mountains:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://youtu.be/cAL_SwHe4A8">https://youtu.be/cAL_SwHe4A8</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/01/lets-go-fly-kite-up-in-bluest-clearest.html">http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/01/lets-go-fly-kite-up-in-bluest-clearest.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/03/flying-kites-is-pure-joy.html">http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2021/03/flying-kites-is-pure-joy.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Redondo Beach, California</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://youtu.be/R1xV_p2Azec">https://youtu.be/R1xV_p2Azec</a> (Butterfly)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">https://youtu.be/otEVtfnbOGM (Kite Festival)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Mandalay Beach, Oxnard, California </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Three Kites high up in the clouds: <a href="https://youtu.be/foOY2QZmRBc">https://youtu.be/foOY2QZmRBc</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Three Kites, continued: <a href="https://youtu.be/lan3bq45A9s">https://youtu.be/lan3bq45A9s</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Delta Kite solo: <a href="https://youtu.be/-wlQmSbLKRM">https://youtu.be/-wlQmSbLKRM</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Hermosa Beach, dancing kites, soaring high above:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0 " target="_blank">https://youtu.be/g6XXJTEu7t0 </a>Three kites in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY">https://youtu.be/sdmvgIIlyfY</a> Three kites in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs">https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs</a> Swirling Circle in Hermosa Beach</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Kites in Angeles National Forest mountains, Rim of the Valley Trail:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Butterfly Diamond: <a href="https://youtu.be/jWyrVsv9yYY">https://youtu.be/jWyrVsv9yYY</a> (2023)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Butterfly Diamond: <a href="https://youtu.be/XKKyqWyoxOk">https://youtu.be/XKKyqWyoxOk</a> (2023)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif;"><b>Smiling Fox: <a href="https://youtu.be/3niKbMqzYR0">https://youtu.be/3niKbMqzYR0</a></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Diamond Butterfly: <a href="https://youtu.be/ddCJsAOOGlc">https://youtu.be/ddCJsAOOGlc</a> (strong wind, unstable)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Flying Diamond: <a href="https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk">https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk</a> (blue skies)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Swirling Circle: <a href="https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU">https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU</a> (above hills)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Delta Sharkie: <a href="https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8">https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8</a> (chemtrail stripes)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Macaw Parrot: <a href="https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4">https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4</a><a href="https://youtu.be/IknSaGveNHo " style="font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Blue Butterfly 2: <a href="https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE">https://youtu.be/OqBDIPHCIWE</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Laughing Dolphin 1: <a href="https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE">https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE</a> (skies with chemtrails)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Laughing Dolphin 2: <a href="https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs">https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs</a> (skies with chemtrails)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Laughing Dolphin 3: <a href="https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU">https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU</a> (blue skies, one stripe)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Laughing Dolphin 4: <a href="https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc">https://youtu.be/wsv8V77H4gc</a> (in sunlight)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">Laughing Dolphin 5: <a href="https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts ">https://youtu.be/uZOdkTaqTts </a>(dancing around the moon)</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><br style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-weight: 400;" /></div><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></b><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-86321062512844965762021-01-23T14:17:00.013-08:002021-03-28T19:34:12.342-07:00Let's go, fly a kite... up in the bluest, clearest California air!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0doc8ad_umIyYac79JVIgGSN3faefpAbIXyiSQBnnxkFZ8-Ujz6GzNEGFu-v-3yUNQ7977GfWR-lsDsi2nuG1ii5cYC1_loHRdYdn5rdZ3ni4IFkDXBWJCtCEUvDqSW0BaVBS4s2jNTc/s2048/IMG_3484.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0doc8ad_umIyYac79JVIgGSN3faefpAbIXyiSQBnnxkFZ8-Ujz6GzNEGFu-v-3yUNQ7977GfWR-lsDsi2nuG1ii5cYC1_loHRdYdn5rdZ3ni4IFkDXBWJCtCEUvDqSW0BaVBS4s2jNTc/w400-h300/IMG_3484.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">into the blue</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">above the blazing sun -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my diamond kite</div><br /> I live in Los Angeles - one of its most remote subdivisions which is called Sunland and therefore full of sunlight. I admire the azure skies above brush-covered mountains from my sofa, from my kitchen window, from my bed... These are not mountains, but hills actually, worn a bit by the eons of time, wind, rain... and still eroding. Covered with green grass and yellow flowers in the spring in February, turning golden brown by the end of April, they change colors with the sunlight: sometimes misty, pale, at other times bright gold, and burnt orange turning into purple as the sun sets. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjzrJW1Kn5nRkq9K66TqQRidIWeN8ZWU3WGCGPF9uVdx1zVssb6G-uNnkZ6DXd0JIzU_eR3Jw0hymjDouaabfz5T6ohC9QJA0rFSo7NIlzycqMew7KcA4jn58X8tkOYOQu7f7TZXgsQs/s2048/IMG_3455.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjzrJW1Kn5nRkq9K66TqQRidIWeN8ZWU3WGCGPF9uVdx1zVssb6G-uNnkZ6DXd0JIzU_eR3Jw0hymjDouaabfz5T6ohC9QJA0rFSo7NIlzycqMew7KcA4jn58X8tkOYOQu7f7TZXgsQs/w400-h300/IMG_3455.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"let's go!" says my path</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a secret joy waits around the corner -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rim of the Valley</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I recently rediscovered the joy of flying kites. . . I bought a dragon kite for my grandson, and loved playing with the kite so much, I got some more for me, too... At first, I thought I could only fly kites on the beach, where the wind is strong and steady. But I found a spot here, five minutes from my home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7i6Mpd6N8TcGNU7qpdCKYmbpgbwoGbzrBlypwcDc8b4mwhTy7i4WjeTXfxp_v9SYUHaN-TWg4yuHn53bQzV_eF064AOq8NOMEOWz3o42w8BNWlInHB5yG0ZjFGFBGAI0tzLgoJiTdcJg/s2048/IMG_3493.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7i6Mpd6N8TcGNU7qpdCKYmbpgbwoGbzrBlypwcDc8b4mwhTy7i4WjeTXfxp_v9SYUHaN-TWg4yuHn53bQzV_eF064AOq8NOMEOWz3o42w8BNWlInHB5yG0ZjFGFBGAI0tzLgoJiTdcJg/w400-h300/IMG_3493.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">burnt orange of grass</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">welcomes deep purple shadows -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">canyon sunset </div><p>Half-way up the slope there is a pathway called Rim of the Valley, it turns 90 degrees at the edge of the canyon and creates a marvelous spot to fly a kite, or kites. The wind moves long the slopes, down the canyon, and turns where I stand. It may change direction frequently at lower elevation, but if the kite goes high enough, it says up there, supported by nothing but air and held in place by my string. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfW6hFr9AjDZ3BPWL3EjaILriBCdmYXpBa_LmbIpFhAhCqGsAzlCbhBDc4n9Z0lQfIkxYJ6oLhHg31agCfKkxW2mV3b4j1a_ZQ0snw8mOg4brAmcUxVwC2SY9Lp80OioUDKEtbBd7XQE/s2048/IMG_3416.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfW6hFr9AjDZ3BPWL3EjaILriBCdmYXpBa_LmbIpFhAhCqGsAzlCbhBDc4n9Z0lQfIkxYJ6oLhHg31agCfKkxW2mV3b4j1a_ZQ0snw8mOg4brAmcUxVwC2SY9Lp80OioUDKEtbBd7XQE/w400-h300/IMG_3416.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">if I had wings</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">would I be a parrot kite</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">soaring in the skies?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzj9dJl57l9YJKoTCzmqohm0OhnpGpsxOHLeJcna9TpoKwi62_uzQyw_t_yWraQDs7pqdD0e3Jy_pEZrXFYdcU0L8_CSnxHyXFVjUQPdGGh_oFg9HdZaUQOeiZ2EPyQ7z67uSyHVZtTs/s2048/IMG_3420.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzj9dJl57l9YJKoTCzmqohm0OhnpGpsxOHLeJcna9TpoKwi62_uzQyw_t_yWraQDs7pqdD0e3Jy_pEZrXFYdcU0L8_CSnxHyXFVjUQPdGGh_oFg9HdZaUQOeiZ2EPyQ7z67uSyHVZtTs/w400-h300/IMG_3420.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0TowwtaWh8gWF-Dpk7PUmxkXTuAOkdOuP9Ak8asTqzpsWf60RZWTAu4bLWt7_6FYn5zTqNBh7bRRnmlcdIe4q5KvJ6rpKw9ZQv_b6MmFVteJbwWFJ9BgXIIHJlRCdHzEln7HsA4BLAg/s2048/IMG_3471.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0TowwtaWh8gWF-Dpk7PUmxkXTuAOkdOuP9Ak8asTqzpsWf60RZWTAu4bLWt7_6FYn5zTqNBh7bRRnmlcdIe4q5KvJ6rpKw9ZQv_b6MmFVteJbwWFJ9BgXIIHJlRCdHzEln7HsA4BLAg/w400-h300/IMG_3471.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">high in the azure</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a child's soaring memory </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the rainbow diamond</div><p>I play with a classic diamond, a parrot that I improved by adding ribbons to the tail, and a "sharkie" of checkerboard geometric design. I think I should get more kites! If the wind is steady, I can tie them to a bush and fly several at once! If not, I just hold one and counter its moves and countermoves by tugging on the leash, it feels like having a pet that has a mind of its own and goes where it likes to go.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FwkFjEmKcT38P664D6fUXY7k8m5XyDBy24mT1SYbgOVUH1eEPIXFfDi2Ex4qfJ_vEpf7PUmGTWsHt_Z7QwM_rMin7yPu1Z_bNEYoJXQcE29hDfSVZZPGw3yr9TFjuWT7Jp5RjEwGVbE/s2048/IMG_3431.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FwkFjEmKcT38P664D6fUXY7k8m5XyDBy24mT1SYbgOVUH1eEPIXFfDi2Ex4qfJ_vEpf7PUmGTWsHt_Z7QwM_rMin7yPu1Z_bNEYoJXQcE29hDfSVZZPGw3yr9TFjuWT7Jp5RjEwGVbE/w400-h300/IMG_3431.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">faster, faster</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">two kites race in place </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the brambles win</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The checkered rainbow "sharkie" has a 3-D "chest" that helps it fly, long and wide tail to keep the balance. Due to the loss of one stick that held the wings apart, and was replaced with a plastic coated wire from a fake flower, the kite has a softer, more pliable support across its wings, that allows them to flap in the wind. It looks almost alive as it changes direction and dances with joy in the sky. Alas, on the day this brief video was filmed, the sky was full of chemtrail stripes... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/YJuFji99JY8</a> Delta Sharkie in the hills</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zzdm0NkGxEPtDwR4f72kmHJZ8F2N8vPyHXWOagodR1zf2DfPGwMwPcoUKhaRxlhknVsfzIdjek5cz9W0S_pneJcjxoTee6dybc-GZUyUxjTAC4KceqJh5m24F3nc_ZSdI5B1pPXBlys/s2048/IMG_4149.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zzdm0NkGxEPtDwR4f72kmHJZ8F2N8vPyHXWOagodR1zf2DfPGwMwPcoUKhaRxlhknVsfzIdjek5cz9W0S_pneJcjxoTee6dybc-GZUyUxjTAC4KceqJh5m24F3nc_ZSdI5B1pPXBlys/w400-h300/IMG_4149.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my delta kite soars</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">above orange delta hills </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">before the sunset</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xoVlb8G0-k53Hhj-7y7sbjlob89ICuk_6SYZQKcQx3rHX7PRz-4kQYWFbcWk2j7pgXl18V8oSl2CmlOnjAMK2yYE5TZSpCcLjhNzZjlDhEPBQalwTmn8Xoni0Bsuj808gnjTV4guwK0/s2048/IMG_4501.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xoVlb8G0-k53Hhj-7y7sbjlob89ICuk_6SYZQKcQx3rHX7PRz-4kQYWFbcWk2j7pgXl18V8oSl2CmlOnjAMK2yYE5TZSpCcLjhNzZjlDhEPBQalwTmn8Xoni0Bsuj808gnjTV4guwK0/w300-h400/IMG_4501.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The first three kites were so much fun, that I decided to get more and added a laughing dolphin, a huge blue butterfly, and a twirly circle to my collection. Each has its quirks. So far, the dolphin is by far the best flyer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My dolphin is the most aerodynamic in shape and flies as if swimming in the vast ocean, with amazing grace soaring above me. The two streamer tails are very, very long, adding to its stability. Here are some videos from my February 2021 kite-flying afternoon:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Laughing Dolphin 1: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/BtXErYfMxuE</a> (skies covered with chemtrails, brief)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Laughing Dolphin 2: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/-Vj7DEXVZSs</a> (skies covered with chemtrails)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Laughing Dolphin 3: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/_i2HaGGGoyU</a> (blue skies with one chem stripe)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNw-hdD0HzvAbFelTOtRPZkCdIGt1NCkMzf-oDfYUUQH8MfwJw90mH3m3bUCZAHcbmM7-Gg2ohdRSkYu0nLzvDiaX7MRfcwWV4nUZhXUy6mCipcCFnQM6-Vc_ggIPC08mDWbDVLQoPEk/s2048/IMG_4251.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNw-hdD0HzvAbFelTOtRPZkCdIGt1NCkMzf-oDfYUUQH8MfwJw90mH3m3bUCZAHcbmM7-Gg2ohdRSkYu0nLzvDiaX7MRfcwWV4nUZhXUy6mCipcCFnQM6-Vc_ggIPC08mDWbDVLQoPEk/w400-h400/IMG_4251.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">even after sunset</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the dolphin high in the sky</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">laughs at me</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Another new kite is a butterfly, so incredibly beautiful with its blue wings and colorful "eyes" at the edges - but this beauty does not fly well yet, tends to crash suddenly, just like my yellow-red parrot did when I first got it. I cut the streamers in half and added a set of streamers in the middle for the tail. After this change of design, the parrot flies beautifully. The butterfly has to have this "surgery" done, as well. Then, it will become a champion flyer, of incredible grace and beauty. Right now, I could not keep it in the air long enough to film it. Crashed within ten seconds! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1FDOuK14Chdu_Kjy7EIXTwW88lLT0CtUaEu7qNjinUQXhu-1lPe0bEz2jvgCrKtx2k-KfQxqPIeDSViBQ2vkekdUk3ps_MSxkFs1KqqE_6SzDeBwt_MU7T5-DN8w-FxkKHaCp7J4kA/s2048/IMG_4278.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDR1FDOuK14Chdu_Kjy7EIXTwW88lLT0CtUaEu7qNjinUQXhu-1lPe0bEz2jvgCrKtx2k-KfQxqPIeDSViBQ2vkekdUk3ps_MSxkFs1KqqE_6SzDeBwt_MU7T5-DN8w-FxkKHaCp7J4kA/w300-h400/IMG_4278.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For comparison, here's the golden Macaw Parrot, in flight, with its magnificent colors and three sets of streamers. Alas, the sky is all dirty off-white, covered with artificial chemtrail clouds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/JodwfVw-Tk4</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGX5NedzFc0ui3KNYrU9BtMh08_c7IHU9iYhiv-3762RW_Tv0y0eUxBlrwUk5uzIijxhj2j8-3G8abSsnvLl_anE1CMNgaKu9ECMdGgETRUSV3VhibS78Z6w1xgfnNAzTklJNwAGQLBo0/s2048/IMG_4130.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGX5NedzFc0ui3KNYrU9BtMh08_c7IHU9iYhiv-3762RW_Tv0y0eUxBlrwUk5uzIijxhj2j8-3G8abSsnvLl_anE1CMNgaKu9ECMdGgETRUSV3VhibS78Z6w1xgfnNAzTklJNwAGQLBo0/w400-h300/IMG_4130.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The colors are lively on the parrot, and it looks very elegant with its three streamers. Holds beautifully onto the breeze and soars to the end of its very long line. Sometimes. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOVLpAAI87-HPjBfLZXIlqX92FKXljFMoqJvMGQeZMBiUSq5NKE6EqBDmzIPHSUfBsicNYt3mH5wHwcRT3ThXMWapFVdE_JPjN8vxNi8RBMwknvaZ3rD2eFt2lhi9jIwRqMtS0SSEpPg/s2048/IMG_4127.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJOVLpAAI87-HPjBfLZXIlqX92FKXljFMoqJvMGQeZMBiUSq5NKE6EqBDmzIPHSUfBsicNYt3mH5wHwcRT3ThXMWapFVdE_JPjN8vxNi8RBMwknvaZ3rD2eFt2lhi9jIwRqMtS0SSEpPg/w400-h300/IMG_4127.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rotating circle is the strangest design of all. The circle holds the oval "wing" that turns on its axis very fast. Interesting. Yes, it flies. No, it is not fun to hold the string. The rotating motion causes it to shake and vibrate. Feels like a machine generating electricity. Or something. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/9C3p-KhHnOU</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I later took it to Hermosa Beach, and had a better view on how it flies. </div><a class="style-scope ytcp-video-share-dialog" href="https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs" id="watch-url" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_-webkit-font-smoothing); background-color: #f4f4f4; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_font-size); line-height: var(--ytcp-font-subheading_-_line-height); text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/OB27nE1uFIs</a><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4qJSpxbpnJnU0ZXeF55evYYoYQqZjpkwkyaIkcMejtC5AZkiUmxuOVQP0-b_TeEnFPrMqFyXhUX3OcYSthdvmbjwngw78BgRnONeNHgDaAXrIfXfM4fCyz-eYLj-yhjqyxhkCImcRdA/s2048/IMG_4834.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv4qJSpxbpnJnU0ZXeF55evYYoYQqZjpkwkyaIkcMejtC5AZkiUmxuOVQP0-b_TeEnFPrMqFyXhUX3OcYSthdvmbjwngw78BgRnONeNHgDaAXrIfXfM4fCyz-eYLj-yhjqyxhkCImcRdA/w400-h300/IMG_4834.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So, it is back to my favorite kite shape from my childhood, a simple, colorful diamond with a tail. It picks up the wind current very quickly, just wants to go up to the sky. I once tied it up and left it to dance up on the breeze, while setting another kite to fly. It was up there for 10 minutes, but when it came down, its tail ribbons got hopelessly tied up with the string and I will have to cut off some of the streamers with rough edges.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMKhrQJy6eYS66JxwfEdgO-ZD-8F0jwqQxT61i3GCLTExU9dc3t2Un4-Nd7OZsgWVqH2ZM6eHI8nKoCFC3uIXEHtVQRlhAfx7Iu9K_crtawxeJBEKR-wM9zVb9etyC4AVNlzVLIXQynA/s2048/IMG_4522.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMKhrQJy6eYS66JxwfEdgO-ZD-8F0jwqQxT61i3GCLTExU9dc3t2Un4-Nd7OZsgWVqH2ZM6eHI8nKoCFC3uIXEHtVQRlhAfx7Iu9K_crtawxeJBEKR-wM9zVb9etyC4AVNlzVLIXQynA/w300-h400/IMG_4522.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the moon blinks with joy -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a visit, flying rainbow,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">heavenly delight</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Flying Diamond: <a class="style-scope ytcp-video-info" href="https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: Roboto, Noto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-line: none; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">https://youtu.be/EveaI9O8Qsk</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivp3FsJ_gRPXZXgtTLIZpABxQKFC2HXCjmmaQdmfPUidCUgnIbElLxnx9ZqG_esDH1S962VcJqOS9zVqd3yUGpQs410MQ95kG7YwoZiOX7iq0WWYhkCDX7X5c4mVZgJ8ij6ho8XatlMy4/s1280/IMG_4520.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivp3FsJ_gRPXZXgtTLIZpABxQKFC2HXCjmmaQdmfPUidCUgnIbElLxnx9ZqG_esDH1S962VcJqOS9zVqd3yUGpQs410MQ95kG7YwoZiOX7iq0WWYhkCDX7X5c4mVZgJ8ij6ho8XatlMy4/w300-h400/IMG_4520.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Why is flying kites so important? Pure joy! Up in the hills, with golden sunlight, azure skies, solitude, except for the hikers, bikers and dog walkers, one every ten minutes or so, some filming the kites with glee... And why is pure joy so important? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Let me quote a fragment of a book in progress by Eric Raines, energy healer and spiritual seeker who can teach us all a lot about choosing Love over Fear. Called "The Etheric Alchemist's Handbook," it will teach us how to transmute Fear into Love, Darkness into Light. An excellent idea. <br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>"All positive and negative emotions stem from the foundations of Love and Fear. No matter the nuance of emotion whether anger, sadness or shame builds up to create an unpleasant emotion that does not feel like Fear, when disassembled, the sensation boils down to Fear of not having enough, of going without, of not being loved, of not belonging, of not being good enough, of not being successful, etc… </i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>No matter what emotion, the swirls of passion, belonging or excitement that build up to create a feeling much different than Love, when picked apart, it boils down to a Love of creating, of belonging, of being capable, of providing, of nurturing, etc… </i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Vast tapestries of incredible Light Language poetry are capable of spreading throughout the sparkling jewels of a life’s timeline, creating such intricate, beautiful sensations, memories and emotions that harmonize, resonate and build to a crescendo of transformative Light.</i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Vast webs of sticky, violent swear words in Light Language are capable of spreading throughout the heavy, dark spaces of lifetime regrets and grudges, building raw, wounded symphonies of discordant pain and escapism. This is a very dark, heavy space for the Soul to exist in.</i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>Both life paths are possible for the same person, even if that person has gone through incredible amounts of pain and trauma on any of the mind, body and spirit levels. The difference is that in order to create a timeline of Light, Light was chosen. Love was cultivated. Negative “words” were transmuted with joy and laughter and the opposite was chosen for the lifetime of negative Soul resonance."</i></div></div></blockquote><p>Find out more about Eric and sign up for his workshops here: <a href="https://www.unleashingnaturalhumanity.com/">https://www.unleashingnaturalhumanity.com/</a> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDM84Js2Mlk4nXqCyp4AyDcohrbHE8s3hIZaxHN8RPd0pLXixyGporPLq9AFfcJTbhcF3pH5E-2cGz-7W0K3jeStR4CUJhhKOgr7FuThR6Kzi5ZibiN7y97LdVb9AX0Dz1hlsZxCIatHE/s2048/IMG_3425.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDM84Js2Mlk4nXqCyp4AyDcohrbHE8s3hIZaxHN8RPd0pLXixyGporPLq9AFfcJTbhcF3pH5E-2cGz-7W0K3jeStR4CUJhhKOgr7FuThR6Kzi5ZibiN7y97LdVb9AX0Dz1hlsZxCIatHE/w400-h300/IMG_3425.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">at the string's end - </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"can I go any further?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my kite asks the sun</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4jRNGbPpcYYcdLs8IMFimNEmBA9F2E0CvLwyNECWC1DaPZHtjSUsrfPA7oI8vjVvfTlUj12Al46Oosw74o3cF6vpYT8uUO2DwdeTJ2JTYSkL0bApaUsvkoccDcg8AEVat_vOdiwTHAI/s2048/IMG_3460.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4jRNGbPpcYYcdLs8IMFimNEmBA9F2E0CvLwyNECWC1DaPZHtjSUsrfPA7oI8vjVvfTlUj12Al46Oosw74o3cF6vpYT8uUO2DwdeTJ2JTYSkL0bApaUsvkoccDcg8AEVat_vOdiwTHAI/w400-h300/IMG_3460.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">look at us!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">we are both so rich in colors</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sun and kite delight</div><p>I like the diamond a lot, it is the size I used to make them, of think rice paper and balsawood sticks, glued carefully, with a string attached. Not as colorful as this one, the kites we made with Mom and Dad and went to fly in the fall in the fields nearby, were as much joy as the colorful diamond above setting sun in Sunland. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79I8li_ompIffOZrU2VvZIcs_fQBeEIuZ199T2k4paZfQ468HQMZDcaKJWLaR1_vRpUzhAw-JhitZ-SrqrFXMazW1LO8j9AgCdz2usk2gmSEVv_q8lH013Lxvv8H6T_9b4-4uTftqdAk/s2048/IMG_3462.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj79I8li_ompIffOZrU2VvZIcs_fQBeEIuZ199T2k4paZfQ468HQMZDcaKJWLaR1_vRpUzhAw-JhitZ-SrqrFXMazW1LO8j9AgCdz2usk2gmSEVv_q8lH013Lxvv8H6T_9b4-4uTftqdAk/w400-h300/IMG_3462.JPG" width="400" /></a>i</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">white, yellow, rose</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">violet, periwinkle, sapphire -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the kite's rainbow</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNLCI1EEe2LQyepW6CyG5zd5TXuApoSi9oSuhnsgv8tZJkX_MLbzdAbqfdyrzq4nX_4cOmKl9bIASUD10OorLuZPeAnPqbG7uNONnv21fjBW5-11au1LA7rID4_v1Mcn9iSy3Qb8Za94/s2048/IMG_3483.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNLCI1EEe2LQyepW6CyG5zd5TXuApoSi9oSuhnsgv8tZJkX_MLbzdAbqfdyrzq4nX_4cOmKl9bIASUD10OorLuZPeAnPqbG7uNONnv21fjBW5-11au1LA7rID4_v1Mcn9iSy3Qb8Za94/w300-h400/IMG_3483.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"let me go!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my kite tugs on the string</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">we dream of freedom</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMVtzwA6OIQFtFJla0Pfqu4FWOWxbRDcfHweRm9-bcsjySydli8YoIGxxYFrZwfwb3ZxnyTiLh5b4wPK8Swcxrlr8UlF0z2U3OMYUqALmTZYzFWx7guDz6httMItcyPW8nVi46KJc8gE/s2048/IMG_3486.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMVtzwA6OIQFtFJla0Pfqu4FWOWxbRDcfHweRm9-bcsjySydli8YoIGxxYFrZwfwb3ZxnyTiLh5b4wPK8Swcxrlr8UlF0z2U3OMYUqALmTZYzFWx7guDz6httMItcyPW8nVi46KJc8gE/w400-h300/IMG_3486.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">catching gold sunrays</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">my kite floats in indigo sky-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the day's last hour</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In any case, it feels like I'm flying up there with my kites, up in the clearest, bluest of skies above my So Cal valley. Big Tujunga Canyon, if anyone asks... And when the sun starts setting down, straight ahead of me, I can take a nice shot of the kite above the sun, or within it. UFO, anyone? </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTSLMs8DJKaWkl_mtMwy0PUqHGsyPxQeWSaq7ENaG5a18IYErlnDGfwfWcpmaRcej_GJg8S7KtexpmR8PMn-qOSBp7yIdb9s_psxmPakWbK1ogeyNPexWLNBBbP0D1quFibqz_MI9MOI/s2048/IMG_3489.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcTSLMs8DJKaWkl_mtMwy0PUqHGsyPxQeWSaq7ENaG5a18IYErlnDGfwfWcpmaRcej_GJg8S7KtexpmR8PMn-qOSBp7yIdb9s_psxmPakWbK1ogeyNPexWLNBBbP0D1quFibqz_MI9MOI/w300-h400/IMG_3489.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">evening's perfection</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> diamond aligns with sun's circle -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">copper in indigo</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYETsbjrkOf5cSjxRJxJ4rGZT5cAgtftU3530tcUDIQcQLWFpFjJ4jiJHo7KXe3bMWBDa9dqA4vrGaZr_i4K9VQ6pE0deTL7ubwmeOla90z3TUpeWjExK5LgiBHL_nT0TAlOutvcAzR40/s2048/IMG_3491.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYETsbjrkOf5cSjxRJxJ4rGZT5cAgtftU3530tcUDIQcQLWFpFjJ4jiJHo7KXe3bMWBDa9dqA4vrGaZr_i4K9VQ6pE0deTL7ubwmeOla90z3TUpeWjExK5LgiBHL_nT0TAlOutvcAzR40/w400-h300/IMG_3491.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">two suns above</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the valley folds quietly </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">into night's sleep</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNSy7iull0dHlbuyY85zqRwe6-kyl-nsYOhcEIp75GpLFzrnfyS164BfunOL_aAT-9phaxzv3zPGyWWltSx7Chyphenhyphenaj7IpFtkHACWxsgCL5jH3YwJiSiDLSwdEMFqLGiLlsF88DbqeFWao/s2048/IMG_3492.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaNSy7iull0dHlbuyY85zqRwe6-kyl-nsYOhcEIp75GpLFzrnfyS164BfunOL_aAT-9phaxzv3zPGyWWltSx7Chyphenhyphenaj7IpFtkHACWxsgCL5jH3YwJiSiDLSwdEMFqLGiLlsF88DbqeFWao/w400-h300/IMG_3492.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-69472535369116895222020-12-25T14:33:00.009-08:002020-12-28T07:56:59.808-08:00Christmas and New Year after the Winter Solstice - the End of Kali Yuga, the Start of the Age of Aquarius<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4J877AGPUnUQDCLJ8XeDlxCMzpvzuS1hFw7Wszh3UkmTdyIqIQGzUe52NJrbgqZHY1vvdbAfLxY3UA2WCjdtWvR4pV-A_s_nOQT3knnw4zSuWJwqhFfilvrTOLUQgWym1D-lOloUHA/s480/christmas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4J877AGPUnUQDCLJ8XeDlxCMzpvzuS1hFw7Wszh3UkmTdyIqIQGzUe52NJrbgqZHY1vvdbAfLxY3UA2WCjdtWvR4pV-A_s_nOQT3knnw4zSuWJwqhFfilvrTOLUQgWym1D-lOloUHA/s320/christmas.jpg" /></a></p><div>W<span style="font-family: georgia;">e have passed through the eye of the needle, and emerged on the other side, victorious. Congratulations to all Lovers, Lightworkers, and People of Good Will! On December 21, 2020, the planets Jupiter and Saturn entered into a conjunction that made their light appear as a bright Star of Bethlehem, last seen 800 years ago, and supposedly seen at Christmas... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">This Winter Solstice also marks a monumental cosmic event: the old era of chaos and destruction ended. We entered into the glorious waters of the Age of Aquarius. We are on our trajectory to a Thousand Years of Peace. Or so, I read, and decided to believe. Why not? Much better vision of the future than the alternative... </span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I celebrated this momentous transition with a new poem:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_rqliHUtFzYTgCRLs2pdaSYS2EMXCz__qBq-1O6bjn1J5yFsuDPptGuF5t2shHI3H3EGdTLT07UjYCDmrVO_rQPpC8ifwkWZP6Oc46GHigv7Sm82N7ts7VI09yW04BgjZQXuNFctDA/s2048/IMG_1172.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_rqliHUtFzYTgCRLs2pdaSYS2EMXCz__qBq-1O6bjn1J5yFsuDPptGuF5t2shHI3H3EGdTLT07UjYCDmrVO_rQPpC8ifwkWZP6Oc46GHigv7Sm82N7ts7VI09yW04BgjZQXuNFctDA/w400-h300/IMG_1172.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><div><br /></div><div><div><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">The Star of Christmas, The Way of Light</span></b></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">Jupiter and Saturn became one. Bright</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">orange gold merged with deep blue purple</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">into a diamond white Bethlehem star.</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">A solstice miracle.</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>We saw it through the telescope</i></span></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>in the neighbors’ driveway.</i></span></div></blockquote><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">The cross on the hilltop is flooded with light.</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">A Christian beacon, a sea lantern on the shores</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">of receding darkness. The end of Kali Yuga,</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">the twisted age of chaos and destruction.</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>We look at it from the safety of our bed - </i></span></div></div><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>limbs intertwined, after interstellar flights</i></span></div></div><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>through galaxies of affection.</i></span></div></div></blockquote><div><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">The portal opens. The way back</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">irrevocably closes. From the Zero Point</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">of no return, we step into the Age of Aquarius.</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">my Winter Solstice poem comes to life. </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>Togetherness, acceptance carry us</i></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>on ultraviolet waves into </i></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>the ultramarine infinity </i></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><i>of one true love.</i></span></div></blockquote><div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">Our ascent is punctuated by bursts</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">of belly laughter, flavored </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">with the sweetness of winter tangerines, </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">dissolving into the pure intensity </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">of childlike joy - rediscovered </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">at the threshold of the Golden Age, </span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">embroidered on the fabric</span></div><div><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: georgia;">of the Thousand Years of Peace. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">(C) December 21, 2020 </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_vOpRtIGiGD2QQPoEGUXd_UMoFCTl1PbIQdFS-WnXB1Yh1FegIVHd8d71jkdU8PVFkx1d-Eoo92JbKCw_koLEGBGUApKBV068XkCXnIJlD9TELeCmgoCKlT-dEn_FvCxQGdqShcAOus/s2048/IMG_1391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_vOpRtIGiGD2QQPoEGUXd_UMoFCTl1PbIQdFS-WnXB1Yh1FegIVHd8d71jkdU8PVFkx1d-Eoo92JbKCw_koLEGBGUApKBV068XkCXnIJlD9TELeCmgoCKlT-dEn_FvCxQGdqShcAOus/w300-h400/IMG_1391.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Well, technically speaking we are still deep within the Kali Yuga that lasts for 432,000 years, has begun 5,121 years ago and will end in the year 428,899. But we can end it sooner in our own lives if we want to bring peace, prosperity, happiness, kindness, gratitude, love and light into this world, ourselves and all around us... </span></div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: georgia;">According to the ancient prophecies of Srimad Bhagavata Purana, the last avatar of Lord Vishnu will descend as Kalki to destroy the effects of Kali and Satya Yuga will begin. There are four eras starting from the Golden Age, Satya Yuga, followed by Treta, Dvapara, and Kali Yugas. As we have seen so far, during the Kali Yuga, "religion, truthfulness, cleanliness, tolerance, mercy, duration of life, physical strength and memory will all diminish day by day" and "wealth alone will be considered the sign of a man’s good birth, proper behavior and fine qualities. And law and justice will be applied only on the basis of one’s power." In contrast, in Satya Yuga, the age of goodness, all virtues will triumph and people will live long, in peace and happiness. <a href="https://vedicfeed.com/the-symptoms-of-kaliyuga-ancient-hindu-predictions/">https://vedicfeed.com/the-symptoms-of-kaliyuga-ancient-hindu-predictions/</a></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiq80AI1-1DTK6iCTpzd-rA2eCcPcj5kkGLV9CE7P7JUTDDGuurH8K-6u8sLAF9bUh_rpvHKehq1Z7tW_apdglOekFX0o9i0TUUixsF7yf2ZYqxmAY-QIVDD8jERmxHpYYg81nHsITlo/s2048/IMG_1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSiq80AI1-1DTK6iCTpzd-rA2eCcPcj5kkGLV9CE7P7JUTDDGuurH8K-6u8sLAF9bUh_rpvHKehq1Z7tW_apdglOekFX0o9i0TUUixsF7yf2ZYqxmAY-QIVDD8jERmxHpYYg81nHsITlo/w400-h300/IMG_1409.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></div><div>As for the Age of the Aquarius, it follows the Age of Pisces, or Christian Fish, and some say will start in 2024, while others claim it already started in 1957, or in 2000. In the hippie musical "Hair" there is a song celebrating its arrival. It all has to do with the "precession of the equinoxes" an astronomical phenomenon caused by the curious rotation of the Earth with its axis at an angle; while going through the 12 signs of the Zodiac during 25,868 years, it stays in each sign for 2,155.67 years. If the Age of the Pisces started in the year 1 of our times, we still have 135.67 years to go... In other words, nobody knows anything...</div></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;">In any case, Christmas followed the Winter Solstice and a Christmas poem should also make an appearance. This one is a repeat from 2015, when I still spent my Christmas alone, with small kids with their Dad in Canada... I figured out how to not feel lonely, but rather grateful for all the amazing gifts of peace and well-being in my garden. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5j-ZIEYcf7lgANv-WavjFX-Wnl_iiLhu-3waNMJ3NgdhCnOjthPxIqK6VUjfq0-Nk3M_sWQRoMa6nrfffNBAnTiXJkpla9UrU8pYTlc8QypclhRbm3YfBQnxJbRT2Im-X4jJlxCOfzo/s400/santa.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5j-ZIEYcf7lgANv-WavjFX-Wnl_iiLhu-3waNMJ3NgdhCnOjthPxIqK6VUjfq0-Nk3M_sWQRoMa6nrfffNBAnTiXJkpla9UrU8pYTlc8QypclhRbm3YfBQnxJbRT2Im-X4jJlxCOfzo/w400-h300/santa.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span><b> A </b></span></span></span><b style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">Music Box Christmas</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b style="color: #990000; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;"><i>I wind the spring on the music box.</i></span></div><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">The twinkling of “We wish you a Merry Christmas” fills the air</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Santa on the rooftop falls into the chimney.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">Are you ready for the holidays?</span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">With Scottish whisky cake</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Polish makowiec, American apple pie? Will you cook</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Tamales on Christmas Eve, your family gathered</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Around steaming pots, laughter mixed with hearty flavors?</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Will you roast turkey with fixings on Christmas Day?</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Will you nibble slices of chocolate oranges, after unwrapping gifts,</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Will you taste walnuts and sesame snaps from your stockings?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>I wind the spring on the music box.</i></span></span></div><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe.</i></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>Memories of home swirl before me.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"><span></span></span><br style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;" /></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;">I make cranberry sauce with pears and apples</span></div><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">The way my Mom taught me. Do I still know</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">How to chop figs and dates into finely ground poppy seeds</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Boiled in milk, re-fried with honey? The favorite flavors of childhood,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">Float away with Ogiński’s polonaise,</span><span style="color: white; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><i style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">Farewell to the Homeland</i><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Under blazing sun of California, I still taste the exotic desserts</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Of Poland’s eastern borderlands, where cultures mixed</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">And worlds mingled – Poles, Lithuanians, Tartars, Jews –</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Cornflower blue skies, shimmering gold of rye fields.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>I wind the spring on the music box.</i></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px; olor: #990000;"><i>Silvery specks swirl in the snow globe.</i></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>I make a promise to myself I will not break.</i></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"><span></span></span><br style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;" /></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;">This Christmas, I’ll read a novel, wrapped in a plush red blanket</span></div><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">And a Santa hat. I will walk alone in the park, come back</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">To the empty house and watch</span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><i style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">The Lord of the Rings</i><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">,</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">The epic battles of the elements, good versus evil,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">Good versus evil</span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">- twirling and waltzing - the silvery specks</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Dance in the snow globe. I sing along “We wish you</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">A Merry Christmas”</span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"> </span><span style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;">thinking of the Christmas play</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">My daughter an Angel waving a green pine bough</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">Singing, in a sweet chorus of children’s voices:</span></p><p><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia; font-size: 14.85px;">“We swish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"><span></span></span><br style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px;" /></span></p><p><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="color: #990000; font-size: 14.85px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;">© 2015 by Maja Trochimczyk</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #585858; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Finally, the most important news is the most timeless. Whether in this age or the next, whether at Christmas alone or with family, we are a rain of diamond light on this planet. Let's shine! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zE8yBf3FtNQnghUCjLJGceKoo5AcME3dU5gSO0Kg18FZxA5WCLFaiBMunMvp2v2y2ERuU2cZR2Xfiet6ujvTa542HFX9JOuJQHvZexSBIMQ_QVJjA2ih8wC-_d2Bi3HmV-XsQhlAoQ/s2048/IMG_1156.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zE8yBf3FtNQnghUCjLJGceKoo5AcME3dU5gSO0Kg18FZxA5WCLFaiBMunMvp2v2y2ERuU2cZR2Xfiet6ujvTa542HFX9JOuJQHvZexSBIMQ_QVJjA2ih8wC-_d2Bi3HmV-XsQhlAoQ/w400-h300/IMG_1156.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A Diamond Miracle</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="ine-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">I live on a planet</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">where it rains diamonds<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">on red-gold leaves of myrtle tree<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">under the azure – sky so alive that it breathes<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">and vibrates in the distance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"><i>Look up! See the cosmic sigh?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">I live on a planet<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">where it rains diamonds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">Water droplets shine in sunlight<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">scattered on pine needles and broad leaves<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">of the bird of paradise, stretching, stretching,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">growing until orange blossoms alight amidst the foliage<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">like a flock of birds, copper flames in jade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">On my planet, western bluebirds,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">Finches, and doves drink from the fountain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">They fly away when the scrub jay comes to take a bath,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">dip his head into the crystal pool and shake diamond droplets<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">down his back.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">On my planet, hummingbirds hum<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">suspended in the air by red hibiscus flowers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">Mockingbirds mock the tune of my alarm clock<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">at four a.m. and sing the songs of red wing blackbirds<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">that pass through on the way to Mexico or Canada<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">resting in the garden, then moving on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">My planet, where it rains diamonds,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">breathes and vibrates with wave after wave<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">of energy that spins into life forms, growing, decaying,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">returning – the endless ocean of live diamonds<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;">that multiply and sparkle in the sun.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Would you like to be a diamond with me?</i></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 14.85px; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">(C) November 2020 by Maja Trochimczyk</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span><o:p><b></b></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5fcvdkHFCRhG0CTz7niPv7Xrl4njoRVAInJPIRMdK13ynqM01244p5gmF6ukYVwJoeEahK0r7vRK1A9L1-363E1wvsqAyuIJJjc23OUwTjCQGruYFO9yRx0mtY6Wi4xm7DGKt7xyCv8/s2048/IMG_1450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5fcvdkHFCRhG0CTz7niPv7Xrl4njoRVAInJPIRMdK13ynqM01244p5gmF6ukYVwJoeEahK0r7vRK1A9L1-363E1wvsqAyuIJJjc23OUwTjCQGruYFO9yRx0mtY6Wi4xm7DGKt7xyCv8/w400-h300/IMG_1450.JPG" width="400" /></a></b></span></div><span><b><br /><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Happy New Year of Peace, Prosperity and Diamond Light! </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK6Q2_818Dh1Wa6A3eohfbbz8HDEwTq-5AySsv4xTgA8ztHfqPHBOSDU_4IAa913dAc1St4gv248toT_la8fXMWwGIv7U_-8b1R7QfVVGFYVGaVngHgNaN3l-UCfyua0xziepQkYFfA/s2048/IMG_2110.JPG" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK6Q2_818Dh1Wa6A3eohfbbz8HDEwTq-5AySsv4xTgA8ztHfqPHBOSDU_4IAa913dAc1St4gv248toT_la8fXMWwGIv7U_-8b1R7QfVVGFYVGaVngHgNaN3l-UCfyua0xziepQkYFfA/w400-h300/IMG_2110.JPG" width="400" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p></p></div></div></div></div>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-17864377386078260362020-09-13T15:56:00.003-07:002020-09-14T10:09:13.280-07:00Be Kind, Be Gentle, Just Be - Share Water with All, Light with All<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDw3hQcIHmokM9kPWH-cAcadJLkjld-1_gmOz5cTnyDH2aCh7hqOU42W6BRKqzFGjf7mHt3HwvwWcLYDKFu6wwC2E10tGPfPSdvKbzySCukEVkOWQT-G2BAMM0wdiJN9-wLmY8cVY-NSU/s2048/IMG_9658.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDw3hQcIHmokM9kPWH-cAcadJLkjld-1_gmOz5cTnyDH2aCh7hqOU42W6BRKqzFGjf7mHt3HwvwWcLYDKFu6wwC2E10tGPfPSdvKbzySCukEVkOWQT-G2BAMM0wdiJN9-wLmY8cVY-NSU/w400-h300/IMG_9658.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>August 15 is the Feast of Matki Boskiej Zielnej in Poland - Mother of God of the Herbs, celebrating Mary as the Queen of all the Harvest Festivals in Polish villages. In the calendar of the Catholic Church this is the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary, when she was taken up to Heaven, body and soul, after falling asleep. Polish villagers always find a way to rewrite these solemnities and feasts so that they fit with their ancient, agrarian, Slavic calendar of celebrations tied to the rhythms of the fertile Earth and the cycle of seasons. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;">This is one equivalent of the American Thanksgiving that comes earlier in Poland than in Canada (October), or the U.S. (end of November). In Poland, winter comes in November and stays through March. Roses do not bloom year-round. Leaves fall and the ground is covered with snow or mud. There are other differences, for instance, in Poland, there are no raccoons. I moved into their country in California, and now I have to share my house with very smart tenants.</span></div><div><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><p><b><span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: medium;">Drinking Water from the Tap </span></b></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">A raccoon has moved into my garage.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">He ate a box of candles I kept for emergencies</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">On the counter, licked clean a plastic plate</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">With a melted one, stuck away in a corner. I see </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Muddy footprints on the top of the washing machine.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">He walked across to get a drink of water at the sink,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Leaving the faucet slightly open, water dripping.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I have to teach him how to close it fully, </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Not waste the precious white gold in the desert.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">My next door neighbor heard the noise, came over</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">To look one night, banging on the garbage bins</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">In my driveway. I don’t want my resident raccoon</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">To be shot with the black, dead-looking gun – a pistol </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">from my neighbor’s shelf, kept – just in case – by the door. </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">My raccoon has moved back into my garage. It was his </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Country before I came from Canada in the 90-ties,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Before the house was built in 1948, before an artificial</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Lake flooded the plane of the ancient riverbed in 1910,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Before an orange grove was planted here in 1880-ties.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Two world wars, a cold war, and a war on terror later,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">A raccoon, my raccoon has moved back into my garage.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I have to teach it how to fully close the tap for the faucet</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">To stop dripping, wasting the precious white gold of water</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">In the desert – water in my home – water in his – water –</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGoRb-V2jvSrQAvywNwFrxOyxJEQKQ9O7br7EtZJND61fXnUQICPgVuQd_j8JSZIBloJQkNkq1QOAi9Tu7WTnubANAVZcW0L1hukIL4TndaSmxjGTJvYSIGLt79_Ivgb1XZuvBEx_i-0/s2048/IMG_9663.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJGoRb-V2jvSrQAvywNwFrxOyxJEQKQ9O7br7EtZJND61fXnUQICPgVuQd_j8JSZIBloJQkNkq1QOAi9Tu7WTnubANAVZcW0L1hukIL4TndaSmxjGTJvYSIGLt79_Ivgb1XZuvBEx_i-0/w400-h400/IMG_9663.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">It is interesting to watch the various visitors to the garden. Some settle in for a while, like the family of five skunks, mom and four babies, who lived in a den in the far corner of my neighbor's yards but sometimes came to walk around in mine. The dog gave them a wide berth, and we stayed away, too, so there was no reason for them to spray around and we could not even smell them through the whole time. Only see the broad black and white tail waving in the grass. I once thought I saw a black cat stalking birds under the lemon tree, and then I noticed that the tail was too wide, too bushy and with that tell-tale white stripe in the middle. I went inside the house to wait for my visitor to leave. She checked out the patio, looked around, and went back home. After the babies grew up, the skunks disappeared. You can even co-exist with skunks, if you are patient and kind.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I saw other, rarer visitors at times: a black king snake that practically jumped across the pathway from one part of the garden to another. That one startled me and so did a strange, snaky lizard with different type of horizontal stripes, kind of reddish, more than a foot long. A squirrel eating my pomegranates. I'm so glad, I have so many this year, not regretting I have to share. . . </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Many birds are coming through, stopping to rest on the way, have a bath in the birdbath, sneak some taste of rose petals, and off they go... two orioles, a couple of scrub jays, four red-winged blackbirds, a woodpecker, and a flock of small birds, chattering in almost ultrasonic-range, higher than the hummingbirds. I do not know their names, yet enjoy watching their flights from tree to tree, always as a flock. Where We Go One, We Go All... they seem to say. </p><p><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;">On Being a Bird</span></b></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">A flock of birds alighted in my garden.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">Smaller than sparrows, they chase each other </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">from tree to tree, branch to branch – chattering </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">incessantly in their ultraviolet voices. My ears fill </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">with a sonic kaleidoscope, almost above the audible range.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">They will rest and fly away, satiated </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">with shreds of rose petals, bits of a ripening peach </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">shared with red house finches that visited at noon.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">They grow quiet at the cawing of a crow or meowing </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">of a stray cat that passes through on its errands </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">and leaves my visitors to their own devices. </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">Would I be happy as a bird? </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I see wings in flight. Lightness. Music</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I forget hidden dangers lurking in the sky,</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">among dense, overgrown branches. I forget rains </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">and the plight of modern subdivisions without </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">trees – built by those who love only one hue </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">of green and it is not of plants.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">Not of my Planetary Church of Plants and Birds, </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I founded eight years ago in my garden, alone with </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">the Sun and Air and Earth and Water – I took the oath </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">of a caretaker: no toxins, no traps, just green, verdant </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">green, greening. This is our home to share, </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">our vibrant garden of daily nourishment and joy.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qHBuTgsyj_HChG-PJwDpOYC2vXYwYNRmL-4HSSmYZMQFqgGgbtZVDLhV-t0y-gD6cVx05FH3mGvvEIpqJN_Wj3E0w0YcLbUUuEj3w57ej9IYMD2bPT5k3YX-TB4MQ2IcYRW_ptCe-kY/s2048/IMG_9656.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qHBuTgsyj_HChG-PJwDpOYC2vXYwYNRmL-4HSSmYZMQFqgGgbtZVDLhV-t0y-gD6cVx05FH3mGvvEIpqJN_Wj3E0w0YcLbUUuEj3w57ej9IYMD2bPT5k3YX-TB4MQ2IcYRW_ptCe-kY/w400-h300/IMG_9656.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHlVQQ_FvXSi9aSP09beOZx_SGNvuj1Xn0POh5_KxYLUqvJLzVfsK7Levi_44Let0VsjQzWIjKUG8SlOmJJLAekwC0QP_QVJSpJFT8SNXjiThB0zJm0BECiP7lXZLsfXFXm2C0QJKvn4/s2048/IMG_0108.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHlVQQ_FvXSi9aSP09beOZx_SGNvuj1Xn0POh5_KxYLUqvJLzVfsK7Levi_44Let0VsjQzWIjKUG8SlOmJJLAekwC0QP_QVJSpJFT8SNXjiThB0zJm0BECiP7lXZLsfXFXm2C0QJKvn4/w300-h400/IMG_0108.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">My roses grow in front of bouganvillea and you can see the mountains across the river-bed in the back. A perfect place. So beautiful and full of life. I like meditating in my garden, accompanied by birdsong of various kinds. The hummingbirds now have three different feeders, but it has not prevented the "general" of their troops from giving orders and letting or not letting others share the sugary water I give them every week. They chatter loudly and bomb-dive each other, zooming right above my head. Maybe that's why I get interesting ideas in my meditations, you could call them visions, or lucid dreams. These seem very real, yet are gone when I open my eyes. I transcribe them into ballads - three of these ballads I <a href="http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/02/blog-post.html" target="_blank">posted earlier</a>; they are quite popular with readers for some reason. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Maybe people have a hunger for angelic presence, for encountering creatures of light, maybe they dream of changing hearts from rocks into flesh, after seeing so much mayhem, murder, torture, and treason in all these Hollywood films people have money to fund, money to spend to make. I cannot watch any of that. It is too horrid, too cruel. I do not want these scenes to touch my mind. Last time I went to a movie theater I had to close my eyes and plug my ears for most of this vile performance. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Here, you can read my ballads for free. It surely would be interesting to make them more visual...as animation, or films. They are quite instructional, you can do it to your nightmares, too... convert fear into love, lead into gold. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-flMXG5A5kbvHgi8Y8zZe31FODQYsaYSUr6UnjtgZs877kVe6T5osYu5thArIgebjLBbMADhyphenhyphen9umndcPCF579oSaZNAfoWycs63y35iROl72kfrtNrtg1rMW6vfA4XV8z5893oA5S7Q/s2048/IMG_1039.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV-flMXG5A5kbvHgi8Y8zZe31FODQYsaYSUr6UnjtgZs877kVe6T5osYu5thArIgebjLBbMADhyphenhyphen9umndcPCF579oSaZNAfoWycs63y35iROl72kfrtNrtg1rMW6vfA4XV8z5893oA5S7Q/w400-h300/IMG_1039.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><br /><p><b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">A Ballad from the Field of Glory</span></b></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Last night I was mobbed by monsters,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Surrounded from all sides in the dark.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Crowds seethed to the distant horizon –</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Steel fangs, claws, charcoal eyes.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I said: </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">“Be patient.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Please, wait in line.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I’ll get to you, I promise.”</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">And so it began.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I laid my hands on their foreheads.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I laid my hands on their hearts.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I breathed light into their nostrils.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I kissed their third eyes.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">One by one, they began dancing.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">One by one, they started to laugh.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">“We were curious,” they said, “you’re fearless,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">We came to see what this was all about.”</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I smiled at my new disciples –</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Tall lizards, crocodiles, baboons,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Sharp-toothed midnight foxes</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">And a horde of dark, shaggy wolves.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Men with strange wooden faces,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Empty eyes of pure absence, so vile,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">A vulture with a bald neck, and two sharks –</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I worked on them ceaselessly all night.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I called my companions to help me,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">To share their true breath of life.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">First, Spinek, spider-crab of clear diamond,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Once curled at the root of my spine.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">He makes cartwheels of joy, high above me,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">With Naguska, gold snake of jewel eyes.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Sent to hurt me, fill me with poison,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">She now uses her fangs to inject light.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Misiek, huge honey bear is close by.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Milky Koala holds onto his back.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">They stretch, shake off sleep from fur coats.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Go to work, breathing, sharing the light.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"> </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Nine-tailed Foksik comes late, as always.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Smooth platinum fur sparkles with stars.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Free to do as she pleases, she binds them</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Firmly, to Divine Love, Divine Light.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Now, I stand in the midst of my army.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Waves of laughter pass through the ranks.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Their happiness flows to the horizon.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Bright aura of joy fills the night. </span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I’m the Queen of Angels, of Cherubs.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">I’m Sovereign, above Host of Hosts.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">We are gentle, loving. In kindness,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Living water springs from all hearts.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">Invincible, we shine with pure glory.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">United, we waltz and we dance.</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">“What of monsters?” You ask. Let me </span><span style="color: #674ea7;"> tell you,</span></p><p><span style="color: #674ea7;">“Angelic, we are all born of Light.”</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDwov3Fqm7NgYn-h_WFf-lbCqBePzSKAvASHsm7JOga30oqbu7fly_A1WW9S2bAJbQBcTicA-7WOQo2j6aq957HMRnXlJDfFPLPsAeAmzVd1uHy7_gHtqdyJxn4YQFFyQ4r9mhE77ETc/s2048/IMG_9688.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDwov3Fqm7NgYn-h_WFf-lbCqBePzSKAvASHsm7JOga30oqbu7fly_A1WW9S2bAJbQBcTicA-7WOQo2j6aq957HMRnXlJDfFPLPsAeAmzVd1uHy7_gHtqdyJxn4YQFFyQ4r9mhE77ETc/w400-h300/IMG_9688.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4DRIEhub95GEYWvBqjS86RkorRCUgdmU9VD2Bdk5eivSfLKx59osXKUrSKRlMp3D6B4XW_0SlmSQaBvChNCWzmWWgCWtrWE0VRlhin_w9a8iYdGZP7VtQLJps7Un1R8j4EzplO-pTqlw/s2048/IMG_0177.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4DRIEhub95GEYWvBqjS86RkorRCUgdmU9VD2Bdk5eivSfLKx59osXKUrSKRlMp3D6B4XW_0SlmSQaBvChNCWzmWWgCWtrWE0VRlhin_w9a8iYdGZP7VtQLJps7Un1R8j4EzplO-pTqlw/w400-h300/IMG_0177.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFzeyWWt8WIWlIoKHPnEyCgK-wbItUZqMoQnk453mrdvj7cljWhX-Cvl-bncrOayrQU_7wZEuLH5vFH5XDbKkJxYvIbcPR1YHO8NnBixd9uIKYxNAr7z1sTEkr4fX5DCtmsqOie65Sr8/s2048/IMG_0014.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYFzeyWWt8WIWlIoKHPnEyCgK-wbItUZqMoQnk453mrdvj7cljWhX-Cvl-bncrOayrQU_7wZEuLH5vFH5XDbKkJxYvIbcPR1YHO8NnBixd9uIKYxNAr7z1sTEkr4fX5DCtmsqOie65Sr8/w300-h400/IMG_0014.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pCINtk5mj91qosJy4pbn2vSLB5Jpbm97JawHgTTQUXpx3vKL7EgkpIT6cvvTBeuRaGBClq0cHtIic_fnw7Qr9-gKW9s0rK4UOH__1G7kjnocdB1uj-Jqfgel6A_oaScHamQ1mfRhrds/s2048/IMG_0153.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pCINtk5mj91qosJy4pbn2vSLB5Jpbm97JawHgTTQUXpx3vKL7EgkpIT6cvvTBeuRaGBClq0cHtIic_fnw7Qr9-gKW9s0rK4UOH__1G7kjnocdB1uj-Jqfgel6A_oaScHamQ1mfRhrds/w400-h400/IMG_0153.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTG9UVfY8-A9KiQN_QqH4072jhJH7s0AV5j79mVAdhvRqrCnnUMmmjQ-JUGX-gOW49k7nHUGdXWjSmRMzNLhWoiQUURRC2pX-KVDRhELVsqBDDai9agdVTULXgTHQ2EU8pnPekbUSTpo/s1133/MaryGold.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1133" data-original-width="736" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuTG9UVfY8-A9KiQN_QqH4072jhJH7s0AV5j79mVAdhvRqrCnnUMmmjQ-JUGX-gOW49k7nHUGdXWjSmRMzNLhWoiQUURRC2pX-KVDRhELVsqBDDai9agdVTULXgTHQ2EU8pnPekbUSTpo/w406-h625/MaryGold.jpg" width="406" /></a></div><br />Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6534877918340341.post-75701783380020440192020-08-16T15:55:00.005-07:002020-08-23T22:21:28.102-07:00On August Cosmic Rays and Ocean Waves<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbd8v6CmKVvpYxTIlcCQ-GhhvH3PwJYVLNjpBk2ZiWQqx1NyaagPIW8wC7KVlr32z-6PQvXkBIGpedG6r0CWpuzxX4L2GgU90d1IlXUHUpAsCHHknJkHkfyMbcWaenbLMFXtlAdOlRFFY/s2048/IMG_0044.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbd8v6CmKVvpYxTIlcCQ-GhhvH3PwJYVLNjpBk2ZiWQqx1NyaagPIW8wC7KVlr32z-6PQvXkBIGpedG6r0CWpuzxX4L2GgU90d1IlXUHUpAsCHHknJkHkfyMbcWaenbLMFXtlAdOlRFFY/w512-h384/IMG_0044.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Swimming in the ocean, in Pacific Ocean, crisp and refreshing like champagne, inspires reflections of a cosmic kind, of the One Energy, One Source that we all come from and return to multiple times, over eons of the Universe's ebb and flow. No wonder these poems are so full of liquid light.<p></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">On Cosmic Breath</span></b></p><p>Flowing, moving, liquid energy coalesces into </p><p>shapes, into lives, into beings of light, of earth</p><p>of solids and water. We are all One flowing, moving </p><p>liquid energy of ether, spirit, light; spilling over </p><p>limits, borders, obstacles, dark walls of separation.</p><p><br /></p><p>Spilling into connection, convergence, unity. </p><p>Cosmos breathes in waves of energy - endless, insistent, </p><p>relentless, they inexorably swell and recede over aeons of time,</p><p>always moving, always here - flourishing, moving, liquid</p><p>energy of the Source - Light - Love - Life. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WbRQrkIQgMmRqkFk3NL9KE-7Yq-caNFSCPzViigTldn4n7FIf4DnxPXuDoqschqTWoW5RJjeSVAzSzFzue1uv9iXRZA50kLuL4MC1MPzZIcMRyoixcIpFCa7_mEW8TA71nHVmljXXj0/s2048/IMG_0019.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9WbRQrkIQgMmRqkFk3NL9KE-7Yq-caNFSCPzViigTldn4n7FIf4DnxPXuDoqschqTWoW5RJjeSVAzSzFzue1uv9iXRZA50kLuL4MC1MPzZIcMRyoixcIpFCa7_mEW8TA71nHVmljXXj0/w384-h512/IMG_0019.JPG" width="384" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Noah saw the arc of the rainbow spread above the land after the deluge as a promise, a covenant of the Divine with the Earth, a promise of safety, and peace. The rainbow colors rise from red, through orange, gold, green, blue to violet and ultraviolet. Blended together, the form the white visible light that can be split apart into separate rays by a prism. The chakras or energy centers of the human body also have these colors assigned, from red into violet, or white at the top, at the crown opening into the infinite. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ejrr_9REQy4jrcuL5lXrZCJ5gKt8bBvIM-risFwwAUz-mDKIcphaHkplEz3YaHk7sjzGJtw5WLSKsMsc01FLD9mpJabg6ex6kVmY061VWYXqbjBcZFY-2MUipxdomvvwtQWdvYiMBM8/s2048/IMG_1042.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ejrr_9REQy4jrcuL5lXrZCJ5gKt8bBvIM-risFwwAUz-mDKIcphaHkplEz3YaHk7sjzGJtw5WLSKsMsc01FLD9mpJabg6ex6kVmY061VWYXqbjBcZFY-2MUipxdomvvwtQWdvYiMBM8/w512-h384/IMG_1042.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">A Cosmic Rainbow</span></b></div><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Blue - baby, cornflower, azure, sapphire, indigo</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">sky, sky, sky,sky of Divine Mind. Sky.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Infinite expanse, clear and translucent sky</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">calls to us, waits for us to plunge into</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe;">its hidden depths, to awaken.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3A2F-ItgqBMA2T0z1QFyXhyphenhyphenSPlT5aVW7BSOFADhupgKef-S3xUUtOtxmsSs0MnpCs_GvNRql8N8sOK28Ht6HnsZ5LQVfyDrdG0aah-4Gq0CN8K925L5YGivl8EK73YjTCYRn_TSiRZA/s2048/IMG_0466.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3A2F-ItgqBMA2T0z1QFyXhyphenhyphenSPlT5aVW7BSOFADhupgKef-S3xUUtOtxmsSs0MnpCs_GvNRql8N8sOK28Ht6HnsZ5LQVfyDrdG0aah-4Gq0CN8K925L5YGivl8EK73YjTCYRn_TSiRZA/w512-h384/IMG_0466.JPG" width="512" /></span></a></div><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Green - jade, moss, forest, emerald,</span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">grass, leaves, stems, fruit of the Divine Heart</span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">of Earth - fertile, abundant, teeming with life</span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Earth surrounding us with blessings</span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Earth calls to us, waits for us to taste</span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">its heavenly nourishment, to care for </span></p><p><span style="color: #6aa84f;">the perennial growth , to awaken.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveHXOVX_VaKs_iK08HdaQCk8dOtRTTM7pqq1aLDEC3r7pLSAv4KeiNK2EKVa9K2uIuG-hsD789jNIFINX9kj9rkVDWWfF-2OBkEmcDvDAjiIW-QKLKq8o66Mt4sojG15xMAdW0og7-sE/s2048/IMG_9500.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveHXOVX_VaKs_iK08HdaQCk8dOtRTTM7pqq1aLDEC3r7pLSAv4KeiNK2EKVa9K2uIuG-hsD789jNIFINX9kj9rkVDWWfF-2OBkEmcDvDAjiIW-QKLKq8o66Mt4sojG15xMAdW0og7-sE/w512-h384/IMG_9500.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">Gold - yellow, daisy, aster, finch, sand,</span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">sunlight of time, of transition, of energy flowing</span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">from shape to shape, life to life, forming, dissolving</span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">building up, falling down, an eternal flow of energy</span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">power, life - calls to us, waits for us to be</span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966;">to become, to expand, to awaken.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WAMyWdhaYZxUwgW07DYihaBhpdvJS06Qf9Axn0VMuvygxD1nKtcI6zE-Tfyg3nqI4oWuCfv9HPnrsLVg4cCULTd8pMrDtflC8hp2aJHBpu9YEfBs9eN0VfX_WsCmdrFjHjbAr-dnXcA/s2048/IMG_9026.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WAMyWdhaYZxUwgW07DYihaBhpdvJS06Qf9Axn0VMuvygxD1nKtcI6zE-Tfyg3nqI4oWuCfv9HPnrsLVg4cCULTd8pMrDtflC8hp2aJHBpu9YEfBs9eN0VfX_WsCmdrFjHjbAr-dnXcA/w512-h384/IMG_9026.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">Red - ruby, garnet, rose-petal, wine, blood</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">my blood, your blood flowing through the veins </span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">of divine Body, carrying oxygen and food</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">into all the cells, all the microscopic beings</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">that come together, to be me, to be mine</span></p><p><span style="color: #cc0000;">to serve the Gold, Green, Blue and Violet</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7GZfOHYuylL-IhxGvZpU5XkIOCNJMHzM6Aafdp1QFF8PrdSCujmgjEOMrvFNFff8jqo4KMEKmteMo8rIgRW-u4ZddrE9Ts-3VYKz-aEmVzk8-5KecySIlqSEKZtsubY_VaY26t7qBiY/s2048/IMG_8985.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="2048" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7GZfOHYuylL-IhxGvZpU5XkIOCNJMHzM6Aafdp1QFF8PrdSCujmgjEOMrvFNFff8jqo4KMEKmteMo8rIgRW-u4ZddrE9Ts-3VYKz-aEmVzk8-5KecySIlqSEKZtsubY_VaY26t7qBiY/w512-h382/IMG_8985.JPG" width="512" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #a64d79;"><br /></span></div><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">Violet - royal purple, amaranth, amethyst, </span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">iris, rainbow, flame - dancing, twirling in spirals,</span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">ascending upward, beyond, always up </span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">connecting, linking into a cosmic lattice</span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">of timeless presence calls to us, waits for us</span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">to weave its liquid strands, to pleat its living</span></p><p><span style="color: #a64d79;">braids, to ascend into brightness, into white</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUGB6zLJBAS0etXhyphenhyphentqLwKf3yYabBOAhxc9PhwqV2ahAeuKLNjubFzW9bD5HPA5RZWbKmPjlYXa8UZSTMDlboHm_m8CvkAk-f3bsBVZkn9JJA5cYr4oLTH0Okm6bF7mBSTf-XN2U7CYA/s2048/IMG_3713.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUGB6zLJBAS0etXhyphenhyphentqLwKf3yYabBOAhxc9PhwqV2ahAeuKLNjubFzW9bD5HPA5RZWbKmPjlYXa8UZSTMDlboHm_m8CvkAk-f3bsBVZkn9JJA5cYr4oLTH0Okm6bF7mBSTf-XN2U7CYA/w512-h384/IMG_3713.JPG" width="512" /></span></a></div><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">White - snow, crystal, diamond, white of light</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">the spark of light broken off the infinite pyramid</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">of Divine Will, sent out into the Red, Gold, Green</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">Blue and Violet - to explore, to experience</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">to live, to breathe, to cry, to laugh, to gather</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">the fruit and bring them back - untouched</span></p><p><span style="color: #cccccc;">and uncensored, fruit of life, my life in white.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNX-1n7Kf_lAWZMdPbT8oX5wX1-EOKWkBmZVYB1d9DyqurpokAesUbISB5NxAWO-kSAlYSyrw3NeOnN-_XeMpQ2Ccdh79L0PtCBfnywQcKH5H_-XGrkREoYkwJzbAeRvu-cxG79oA2co/s2048/IMG_0110.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNX-1n7Kf_lAWZMdPbT8oX5wX1-EOKWkBmZVYB1d9DyqurpokAesUbISB5NxAWO-kSAlYSyrw3NeOnN-_XeMpQ2Ccdh79L0PtCBfnywQcKH5H_-XGrkREoYkwJzbAeRvu-cxG79oA2co/w512-h384/IMG_0110.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>Once the meditation is over, a sense of bewilderment remains, as the astral, etheric, emotional and mental bodies return to fuse with the physical, their anchor in the here and now. It takes time to come down to Earth from Astral flight into higher realms, or from examination of what needs to be done, should be done, is the right thing to do.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFebZsuCIidm2wBb96qhEneiQgMEcTU5axvTxFoyVhfs8OODeL3orwn7ISyTZoyMXfp-XZaVWv1VGj0xin7LcRJ0xdVGTKlHulvvSZ2Z8v9WrI5xP8C0xleY0WSu3uTiORUYo0yp5Ucs/s2048/IMG_1044.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdFebZsuCIidm2wBb96qhEneiQgMEcTU5axvTxFoyVhfs8OODeL3orwn7ISyTZoyMXfp-XZaVWv1VGj0xin7LcRJ0xdVGTKlHulvvSZ2Z8v9WrI5xP8C0xleY0WSu3uTiORUYo0yp5Ucs/w512-h384/IMG_1044.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">After a Meditation</span></b></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I am a humble mirror of the Sun</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">reflecting its glorious brightness</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">over the whole Valley, my heart</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">pierced by its vibrant rays.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">Shining, shining, I overflow with life-giving energy</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">radiating, suffusing everything. Wave after wave</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">ray by ray, light lifts the heavy veil of darkness</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">thick, stagnant, murky, chaotic, confused.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I am a bright ray of Sunlight</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">A window opened to infinity of truth hidden</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">just beneath the tactile surface of matter</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">just above scattered particles of night air.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">Concentric circles of the soul spread out </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">from where I stand on ancient rocks </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">of the Earth in clear mountain stream.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I breathe steadily, deeply the pure Air </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">warmed by the Sun's distant Fire.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I'm the Fruit of Cosmic Spirit, </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">I'm the Star of Endless Light.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">You can see its sunny residue </span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;">in the contour of my smile.</span></p><p><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXy8J1d3jM74EVtyGZchFPawME9dehmukFLjQuL-7nMOaKI4lFpWfrHWb1RQtznGMzddefUPAorNN8Zs0QgY6Ctzx_iKu2o6bA_1aX8HGe1DwRrvMTmcvUjU2yi5BMfUDmW5HBhUFzJRM/s2048/IMG_1043.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXy8J1d3jM74EVtyGZchFPawME9dehmukFLjQuL-7nMOaKI4lFpWfrHWb1RQtznGMzddefUPAorNN8Zs0QgY6Ctzx_iKu2o6bA_1aX8HGe1DwRrvMTmcvUjU2yi5BMfUDmW5HBhUFzJRM/w512-h384/IMG_1043.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9gs8-hg6IZ0H7zzQiZMzgZ_92AN7EHcmxephc_YKxDxbfq9Mfiym4VClUr9qcI0cmaxgxYBfJsd6lD9aW67_vtOhIlXa_wee1OwyZC7wHK7MAi03lfYg9IwvshyGmgmU9xzJIzx9r-c/s2048/IMG_1086.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9gs8-hg6IZ0H7zzQiZMzgZ_92AN7EHcmxephc_YKxDxbfq9Mfiym4VClUr9qcI0cmaxgxYBfJsd6lD9aW67_vtOhIlXa_wee1OwyZC7wHK7MAi03lfYg9IwvshyGmgmU9xzJIzx9r-c/w512-h384/IMG_1086.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>Maja Trochimczykhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07070404303173790701noreply@blogger.com0