Monthly Archives: July 2015

Large Subjects: Cee’s Black & White Challenge

                                                    LARGE SUBJECTSDSC09973 (1)Version 3What similarities do you find in these two pictures?  As much of a contrast as they depict, they do have at least three things in common.  What are they? Can you see the tree in the bottom picture that looks like it is wearing a shoe?  Strange. (That is not one of the similarities!)

http://ceenphotography.com/2015/07/09/cees-black-white-photo-challenge-large-subjects/

“Veils, Halos and Shackles: International Poetry on the Oppression and Empowerment of Women”

Message from Judy:  The quotation below in italics is copied from a message published on Facebook on July 7, 2015 by Charles Fishman. I am very pleased to say that my long narrative poem “Zauditu” will be included in the anthology “Veils, Halos and Shackles” that he mentions.

It’s been 31 months since Jyoti Singh Pandey was gang-raped on a private bus in Munirka, South Delhi. It was Jyoti’s rape & subsequent death from her injuries that moved Smita Sahay & me to set out on our mission: to collect & edit poems for a landmark anthology about the oppression of women & the essential need that women have for safety & empowerment. It’s been a long journey, & I’m so happy to report that *VEILS, HALOS, AND SHACKLES: International Poetry on the Oppression and Empowerment of Women* will be released by Kasva Press (Israel) in late April/early May 2016. I will be in Israel at that time to witness this milestone & to begin a reading tour in the Holy Land. In the meantime, I will help organize launch readings in the United States & some of the two dozen other countries where our contributors live. Smita will focus on scheduling launch readings in India.

 

This article by Sam Rappaz explains the incident and the overall state of women’s rights in India more fully. Please read it to acquaint yourself more fully with the horrendous act that led to Smita and Charles decision to assemble this women’s anthology:

https://tokillamimingbird.wordpress.com/2015/03/09/respectful-necessary-indias-daughter/

Foreign Tongues

I wrote this poem that answers this prompt so long ago that few who are now following me have ever read it.  If you have read it, perhaps you have forgotten it, as I had..

Foreign Tongues

When I was a child, I thought as a child.
In short, I didn’t think.
My faulty reasonings were piled
like dishes in a sink.

While other children responded to
“What do you want to be?”
with “Cowboy! Teacher!” (right on cue),
these answers weren’t me.

When it came to having career talks,
I fear I was a purist.
My answer was less orthodox.
My aim? To be a tourist!!

I thought tourists then to be
a sort of gypsy pack.
Jobless, they were wild and free,
their luggage on their back.

Or in their cars, packed front and back,
traveling evermore––
a footloose, wandering, feckless pack
unsettled to the core.

I saw them passing on the road
just one block south of where
my family hunched in their abode
year after passing year.

I had to wait for 19 years
to earn my traveling shoes––
to assuage my parents’ groundless fears,
abate their travel blues.

I took off on a sailing ship
to visit foreign lands.
When foreign words evaded lip,
I merely used my hands!

Back home, the English seemed to me
common––sorta dowdy.
Instead of “Moshi, moshi”
I had to murmur, “Howdy.”

As soon as school was over,
I hopped upon a plane.
I’d pass my life a rover.
Inertia was inane!

I packed up my regalia
with neither tear nor sob
to head out to Australia
for my first teaching job.

I thought that English I would teach.
It was our common tongue.
Enunciation would I preach.
Oh Lord, I was so young!

My first day there, I heard the word
“Did-ja-‘ave-a guh-die-mite?”*
I found it all to be absurd.
They were joking. Right?

Don’t come the raw prahn on my, mite”**
was next to meet my ear.
What foreign language did they cite?
It puzzled me, I fear.

I rode, I walked, I sailed the seas
and ended up in Bali.
Said my “Terimakasih’s”
And then, “Selamat Pagi.”

My move to Africa was one
that some folks found quixotic,
but “amasaganalu
was a word I found exotic.

After two years, I went home.
Wyoming was the next
place that I agreed to roam,
though I was sorely vexed.

For though the words were all the same
I’d learned at my mom’s knee––
(I’m sure that I was all to blame)
they all seemed Greek to me!

California was where I hung
my hat for many-a-year.
There Español was half the tongue
that fell upon my ear.

I liked its cadence, liked its ring.
The words ran fluid and
their foreignness was just my thing
in this bilingual land.

So Mexico is where I’m bound.
I’ve reasons numbering cien.
The main one is, I like the sound
of “Que le via bien.”

 * The American accent version is “Did you have a good day, mate?”

**  “Don’t come the raw prawn on me, Mate!”  This strange retort is similar in meaning to: “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.” Many Australians have told me they’ve never heard this phrase, but I swear I did–more than once.

The Prompt: Futures Past: As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? How close or far are you from that vision?

Mystery Flower: Cee’s Flower of the Day, July 9,2015

DSCF1882IMG_0139Does anyone recognize this flower?  I took this picture in the Amazon jungle in Peru. Its petals were very thick and waxy, as I recall.

In trying to discover the identity of this flower, I stumbled upon images of dozens of varieties of Hoyas.  I think they are perhaps the most beautiful flowers I’ve seen–certainly up there in the top ranks, at least.  Has anyone ever seen them?  Gorgeous!!! (Google “hoya flowers” instead of “hoyas” or you’ll end up with images and information about a basketball team!)

Happy Birthday, Patti!  Have fun in New York!!!

For beautiful roses and other flowers of the day, go HERE

Take the Cobbled Way: cees-which-way-challenge-2015-week-27

Take the Cobbled Way

At the corner of my street, I always turn left, then always stay far right to avoid scraping my muffler as there is a big depression to channel the water coming down the arroyo.  Click to enlarge this picture and you can see a small trickle.  A few days ago it was like fording a stream!
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Wherever you are going as you enter my fraccionamiento, the way is always up!  And the way out is always down.

To see more possible ways to go, go HERE

IMG_1461lower def

My Room

Papers on the desktop, laptops on the bed,
sticky notes for everything I can’t store in my head:
birthdays of my family, phone numbers of friends–
all the things I need to buy, the listing never ends.
Shoes up on my night table because my new dog chews
everything that he can reach; but, especially, shoes!
Two alarm clocks, one for me for when I must get up,
the other for the medicine I must give the pup.
Stacks of books and manuscripts finished and unfinished,
and an empty Kleenex box I know should be replenished.
Flashlights, lanterns, batteries–for when the power goes out.
In the rainy season, it will happen—have no doubt.
Closets crammed from wall-to-wall with sizes twelve to grander,
I’d probably have a lot to wear if I could get a gander
at what’s inside but I’m afraid it won’t be happening soon;
for thoughts of organizing it make me want to swoon!
Many pictures on the wall and bookshelves full of books,
sculptures on the mantel, in crannies and in nooks.
There will be a new addition in about a minute,
for my room is not completed until I am in it!

 

 

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: Clean Slate. Explore the room you’re in as if you’re seeing it for the first time. Pretend you know nothing. What do you see? Who is the person who lives there?

Lantana!!! (Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge, July 8, 2015)

Lantanas, a perennial in the verbena family, grew to bush size in California but grow into trees in Mexico, if not trimmed back. I love the variety of blooms in different stages on each plant.

Version 2IMG_1410Version 3Lantana CloseupIMG_1412http://ceenphotography.com/2015/07/08/flower-of-the-day-july-8-2015-lilies/

Sand Storm: Jennifer’s One Word Photo Challenge

DSCF1334 DSCF1353 DSCF1354

You’ll just have to imagine the wind blowing–and you would have one colossal sand storm!  These dunes are in Peru, Taken from the oasis shown in the aerial view.

http://jennifernicholewells.com/2015/07/07/one-word-photo-challenge-sandstorm/

More Than 5 Items–Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge,

IMG_1353

The largest head is a portion of a larger sculpture that blew apart in the wood-fired kiln of my favorite pottery studio.  The tall sculpture and plate are also by the same artists.  The bowls are pre columbian, The glazed vase in back contemporary Colombian. The Frida/doe sculpture in front is a piece I bought unpainted from a Michoacan artist. I added the thorns.  Its fragile antlers and legs have been broken off so many times as Yolanda dusted them that after my last repair job,  I finally put it up too high for her to reach.IMG_1328As I pulled into the upwardly inclined cobblestone road that leads up to my house, this herd of sheep came charging across the road.  Luckily, my camera was close at hand.  They streamed onto a vacant lot and as the rest grazed, one with illusions of grandeur sought out the highest hillock to become king of his own small mount.

http://ceenphotography.com/2015/07/07/cees-fun-foto-challenge-more-than-5-items-2/

                                                   Revisioning a Life

I don’t know if it helps much to revision the past.  I think we make decisions according to our background and our chemical makeup and genes and “knowing” that different choices might have contributed to your life turning out differently doesn’t necessarily mean that you would make different decisions even if you knew how they would play out.

When I was a little girl, I always wanted to be around people.  I think this was primarily because I didn’t have a clear enough idea about what to do when I was alone.  If I’d had art classes or someone who encouraged me to write stories when I was small, I might have developed a need for lots of time alone earlier.  As it was, I started reading to fill out my days and nights, but even then, I probably would have traded in those books for more activity.

By the time I got to college, I was accustomed to “wasting” large amounts of time by doing nothing or by playing games, watching TV and listening to music.  I had never been anyplace where there had been clubs and activities to join other than the band, choir and MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship) of my junior high and high school years.  I don’t know if it was lack of confidence or lack of interest that kept me from joining activities in college where I would have met more people, but I am quite sure that I had a small town inferiority complex that made me think people would probably not want to meet me.

Although in the dorm and around female friends I was outgoing and a leader of sorts, at mixers with fraternities, I was shy and held back.  I didn’t go to the student union much–preferring the smoking room at our sorority house, playing bridge with the hashers and watching soap operas with the Lenzi twins–my partners in prevarication.  Somehow I fell back on the lazy habits of my youth, even though I was now in an environment that provided more stimulating possibilities.

I see this tendency spreading like a stain throughout my life.  Yes, I traveled all over the world, but once there, in an exotic or  unfamiliar place, I didn’t necessarily make use of all the possibilities for socialization or discovery.  Once again I fell back on nights spent alone, reading or puttering around the house.  It wasn’t that I didn’t meet people and make friends.  I gave dinner parties and big parties and went to the houses of friends.  It was just that I also held back.  Pulled out by friends, I would go, but if I had to make the decision myself, I would stay home.

Now that I am in my retirement years, I still feel this pull and push of life.  If someone asks me to do anything, I do it.  I have had a few big parties but in recent years I prefer dinner with one to four friends.  The vast majority of my time, however, is spent alone, even though I know I could be busy every minute of the day with one or another social activity.  I fill out my days with writing or, in month or two-month spurts, working in my art studio.  I belong to three writing groups, two of which I go to regularly.  The reading series I coordinated, I let die a natural death when the coffee house where we met closed.  Others have urged me to resuscitate it, but i haven’t.

The reason I know I would probably not change my college habits even though I now know I should have been more active is because now that I am in possession of this knowledge, I still choose not to change.  I am a social person who has an even bigger need for privacy and alone time, but now it is because I have two worthwhile activities with which to fill that alone time. Whether there is much value in what I produce is a moot point.  I think we create in order to recreate our selves, in a way.  It is a place where we have a power we grant to ourselves and perhaps in a way this is a success which, although unheralded by the world, creates a smaller world of our own where we can become whatever we want to be.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Revisionist History. Go back in time to an event you think could have played out differently for you. Let alternate history have its moment: tell us what could, would or should have happened?