Sunday, April 29, 2007

Rest Now

I shall watch quietly as sleep takes you....
The troubles of today and yesterday
fall gently away, leaving nothing but....

Peace.

Slumber within the drifting magic.
Neither strength nor fragility
matters here.

In this land,
the smallest, unarmed, can stand toe to toe
and defeat the giant with his plundering bow.

In this land,
dragons and unicorns grant wishes divine,
and wise men and fools together will dine.

It is in this land,
that all thy answers are wrought.
Be at peace....for here lies freedom from thought.

Interweavings of dreams
Entangled in your sleepy brow...
There are no worries here.
Rest now.

DLD/29APR07

We Are One

Forever one are we...
Truthfully.

Yet we are only as grains of sand
blown by the wind upon a distant shore....
Our spirits glittering and swirling
within a cosmic mist....
Breathtaking in our complexity
yet astonishingly simple.

Dancing and turning
in a quantum blackness,
separating and merging
in a blinding flash of white....
Deep chasms divide us,
yet we are eternally connected
in our utter sameness.

Singular,
yet wholly together.

DLD/29APR07

Destiny

What can we know of destiny?

Does thy destiny lie balanced
in the hands of the gods,
or within thy soul?

Choices presented....
options offered...
and they watch....
confer....nod sagely....
perhaps argue vehemently
over the necessary consequences
of our decisions and our intentions.

Or does destiny lie within the palm of thy hand?
Look carefully. What do you see?

A glittering microcosm of possibilities
within a universe made small.
Every person counts.
Every action counts.
Every word counts.

The difference that can be made
from the sweat of your brow,
from your advocacy for one who cannot (or dare not) speak,
from a sip of water to a thirsty man,
that gives him the strength
for one more hour's work
and one more hour's pay
with which to feed his family.

The galaxy represented in a
microscopic pearlescent bead.

Choose wisely.

DLD/29APR07

Desire

Fingertips
touching lips,
cradling hips.

Reaching hands,
woman's and man's,
yearning expands.

Souls on fire,
raptures conspire,
taking us higher.

Feverish eyes,
desires arise,
breathless cries.

In passion's heat,
our eyes meet.
We are complete.

A slow drift down
Love's surround
Essence unbound.

DLD/29APR07

Loving 4

Loving someone is like....
.
Being surrounded
by all of the oxygen
available in the universe
and still finding yourself
breathless.

DLD/29APR07

My Visual DNA

The Poppets Are Coming!

Yes, boys and girls.... My little red poppet shall be arriving shortly by UPS Worldwide Expedited Post. *grins*

There were only 25 of these little charmers put up for sale by Lisa Snellings-Clark, and only 10 left when I made my purchase.

Click here if you've gotta have one (like me!), but don't hesitate. At $9 US apiece, I 'm sure they won't last more than another couple of hours.

My gracious thanks to Chris for giving the heads-up on his blog. Sometimes it pays to live in London.... I can go ebay shopping before North America even wakes up. *smiles*

Listening to: Rescape (Ruckkehr) on iTunes radioioAMBIENT.
Planning: Another day in the books! Ugh!

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Reunion

When I reach out to you,
my mind travels down distant paths...
faraway places and times
that exist only for us.

I follow you
through the mist...
into a forest deep.
Leather moccasins creep...
Pine needles carpet the trail in softness.
Branches of oak line my way with strength.
A wisp of breeze urges me forward.

I follow you
along a scattered shore,
your footsteps deeply ingrained
in the wet sand.
My bare feet trace
the watery impressions.
The cry of the gull leads me on.

I follow you
through meadows of gold....
wildflowers' beauty surrounds.
The scent of the heavens
fills me with the need for you.
The wind through the tall grass
sings me towards you.

And suddenly....
There you are.

A welcome warmth rushes over me.
Remembrance envelops....
I am inundated, trembling, breathless,
submerged in the ecstasy
of knowing you.

My spirit has longed for this....
Our reunion.

I am drawn.

Like water running downhill,
I flow towards you....
Fingers touch, souls converge
And there is no longer two...

I am immersed in you.

DLD/28APR07

Loving 3

Loving someone is like....
.
floating on gossamer wings
in a silken sea
eyes closed
weightless
dreaming

DLD/28APR07

Friday, April 27, 2007

Surprisingly Good!

#20 - The Ice Queen, by Alice Hoffman
Finished 4/26/07
Rating: 4/5
Total Pages: 211
Reason for Reading: Recommended by a friend
REVIEW: What an unusual love story!! And what lovely words used to tell it. This book wasn’t anything like what I expected it to be. I was greatly misled by the cover, which said to me -- “typical fairytale romance, likely Harlequin style.” But Hoffman is much more sophisticated than that and has a wealth of imagination and wondrously beautiful ideas. I literally devoured the book (and I should have been STUDYING, damnit! LOL!). Only two very minor complaints that pulled this down from a perfect 5: First, I had the underlying feeling that she just tried to pack TOO MANY really good ideas into a single book. There were fabulous themes here that could have created more good stories. There were almost TOO MANY symbols to follow. On the other hand, this is a positive, because it gives me a very good reason to read it again and think harder about all the hidden meanings. *grins* Secondly, the last 50 pages fell just slightly flat of the rest of the book. Somehow she lost a bit of the previous intensity, and the story was tied up just a little too neatly at the end. Neither of these detract from the fact that The Ice Queen was a really great read. Recommended.

* * * * *

W A R N I N G - - - S P O I L E R S

This is easily the most unusual and captivating book I've read in awhile. We're talking survivors of lightning strikes, a woman who's lost the ability to see the colour red, the power of wishes, flesh that glows with gold, a fascination with death and the books that people take out of the library, and of course the theme of ice that permeates the entire novel. This is an author with some truly great ideas, and I couldn't wait to see what interesting thing might happen next.

Lots and lots of great quotes throughout.... The second quote below reveals a major plot point, so stop reading HERE if you don't wanna know!! *grins*

“My stomach was lurching around. I was falling into something. Hard. If I stayed, my bones would shatter; I’d break into pieces at his feet. Stupid girl. Stupid me.” [p. 83]

"Lazarus was marked by the moment of his strike, covered by what were called lightning figures. I'd read about them in a book my brother gave me. Usually they were treelike images imprinted on the body of someone struck by lightning. No one was certain if the images were actually trees or if instead they were some interior path of the veins and arteries. Some experts felt that these designs were shadows caused by extreme bright light; similar images could be produced on glass by large charges of electricity. Handprints appeared on trees, or the perfect shadow of a horse might be captured on the side of a barn; the last image a person had seen as he'd been struck by lightning was cast onto his skin, his soul. All that remained." [p. 134]

Listening to: Stay in My Corner (The Dells) on iTunes Oldies104.
Thinking about: All the studying left to do.....BYE!!!! :)

Loving 2

Loving someone is like....
.
cotton candy on a summer's day
the wind in my hair as we ride the tilt-a-whirl
riding the ferris wheel to the heights of oblivion
screaming and laughing and knowing
we've really gotta do that
all over again....

DLD/27APR07

P.S. I'm writing an ongoing series on this topic....so expect to see lots of 'em.... *smiles*

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Loving 1

What is it like to love someone?

Enveloped in a comfortable warmth
that speaks to your heart....
Swathed in magic and miracles....
and drenched in laughter....
An expansion of the heart
that cannot be contained.
It spills out in giggles and silliness
that make you blush
for the pure joy of being you.

Losing yourself in a moment
..........a day
....................a life.

DLD/25APR07

release me

release me from the bonds
that keep my feet stuck
my heart chained
my vision clouded

i want to fly...
sail beyond the perimeter
of what can be imagined

i want to surge past the horizon
and let the sea take me away...
i want to dance on the curve of the wind
and breathe in the future

do not hold me here
when it is freedom i desire

DLD/25APR07

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Does One Good Story Make a Book?

#19 - Natasha and Other Stories, by David Bezmozgis
Finished 4/24/07
Rating: 3/5
Total Pages: 147
Reason for Reading: CanLitReaders

REVIEW:
Jonathan Cape: OK, so you’ve got this real good story and we really really like it. But you need more than that for a book. What else do you have?
DB: Well, I have another one here that’s pretty good.
JC: OK, so that’s two. But we need more.
DB: Hmmm…..well, here’s a bunch that aren’t so great, but they’re okay, I guess. Can we use them to fill up the pages?

Hmph. The title selection is great. There’s another (perhaps two) that are alright. The rest wasn’t worth it, but at least they were short. I rated this book a 3 instead of a 2 only because the title story was good enough for the bump-up. And because of that, I would also give this author another chance and read more of his stuff. This is his first book....and there is potential. But in the meantime....Next! :)

Listening to: So It Goes (Roach) on iTunes Space Station Soma.
Next on the TBR: The Ice Queen, by Alice Hoffman

Sunday, April 22, 2007

What If?

Does it matter
when is "now"?

What if there is
no linearity
no straight line
no beginning
and no end?

What if
every moment
is just that....
A moment in time.
One that never began
and never ended.

DLD/22APR07

Gotta Lime?

#18 - Anansi Boys, by Neil Gaiman
Finished 4/21/07
Rating: 4/5
Total Pages: 451
Reason for Reading: Once Upon a Time Challenge
REVIEW: Okay, I just have to say this -- Neil Gaiman is too fun for words. *grin* Anansi Boys is quite simply the funnest book I’ve read since I don’t know when. You know you’re into the pages of something truly wonderful when the book makes you laugh out loud – as you read – all alone -- in your third-floor dusty garret. I’m sure my flatmate thinks I’ve quite lost my mind. Suffice it to say that Gaiman really knows how to spin a great story, or in this case maybe I should say "web." Anansi Boys walks a very fine line between horrors too horrible to contemplate and a comic irreverence that has you gasping and giggling in turns. Mr. Gaiman, you have a very twisted sense of humour….and I love it. After American Gods, and now this – yes, I am definitely a certifiable Gaiman-aholic.

* * * * *

Anansi Boys is what a really good read is all about. It's the kind of book that should be read in a huge overstuffed extra comfy armchair with a pitcher of something wet & wonderful and a big bowl of popcorn at your elbow. And don't plan to get up for a good long while, because Gaiman knows how to keep you turning the pages. Don't worry.... Neil won't mind if you get the pages mucky with spilled lemonade, salt, and buttery fingerprints. He just wants to know that you had a good time. And I did. I did indeed.

There were lots of favourite quotes and passages throughout, but my favouritest favourite line didn't appear until the very last page of the novel:
“Mermaids sigh better than anyone.” [p. 451]
I think I must be a mermaid. Ask my friend J who once called my sighs "patentable."

And....here's another sign of a really good writer....My second favourite quote comes from the Gaiman interview tucked into the back of the book:
“I think all geniuses – or the ones that I’ve run into – tend to have a faintly tenuous relationship with the real world, because so much is going on on the inside. They may be geniuses but they often need someone to walk around holding the string. They’re sort of balloons, bobbing around.”

*sigh*......(((grin)))

Listening to: Angel Eyes (Abba), on iTunes radioio70spop.
Buried under: Scads and scads and scads of foolscap and anthropology books, all (thankfully) interspersed with a scattered collection of Pilot Hi-Tecpoint V5's [extra fine] in an array of lovely colours....I may not surface for awhile.

Now

There is nothing
There is nowhere
There is no time
But the "now"....

What has gone before....
has brought you to "now."
What is still to come
can't arrive without the "now."

This "now" will never happen again.

Go.
There's time.
It's still "now."

DLD/22APR07

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Tulips in Chesham


The many great gardens of the world, of literature and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible: The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden. If you don't want paradise, you are not human; and if you are not human, you don't have a soul.

--Thomas Moore

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Sinking into Madness

#17 - Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys
Finished 4/17/07
Rating: 4/5
Total Pages: 124
Reason for Reading: Co-read with a friend
REVIEW: A fascinating follow-up to Jane Eyre, this book recounts the troubled life of Edward Rochester’s wife Antoinette -- the madwoman in the attic at Thornfield Estate. I found this an interesting literary approach, bringing to life another character’s untold story from another book, and I wonder why Rhys felt this was a project she needed to take on. The result is a thought-provoking look at issues of racism, sexism, magic, identity, and madness, mostly set in the postcolonial world of the Caribbean amongst wildly colourful and sensual images of a lush jungle world. There are many haunting impressions and disturbing themes still running through my mind, and the longer I consider what I’ve read, the more I recognize that this is a much more complex tale than it appears to be on the surface.

* * * * *

W A R N I N G - - - S P O I L E R S

Rochester's decision to take Antoinette to England with him and to lock her up in the attic at Thornfield displays a horrifyingly cruel side to a man that had gained my sympathy for a short time. Christophine offered him the perfect escape, yet he refused to leave Antoinette behind, at the time, it seems, as a reaction to the thought of her marrying someone else. But there is truly only one reason for his actions. Punishment. The desire to exact a cruel and inhuman revenge on the woman he had married.

The key question I'm left with after reading Wide Sargasso Sea is that of identity and its role in madness. Rochester maliciously and deliberately wrenches away Antoinette's identity. He takes away her money and her property. In postcolonial Jamaica, the wealth of the wife reverts to the husband after marriage. Once he is confronted with her family history of psychological illness, he takes away her name and begins to call her Bertha (her mother's name). He takes away her vision of herself, by imprisoning her in a room without mirrors. In the midst of her crazed thinking, Antoinette sees herself as split in half, two selves that cannot be reunited. She loses her sense of "self" when there are no mirrors in which to see what she looks like. This makes her doubt the reality of her own existence.

Mental illness is a subjective state that can be difficult to define. Rhys strongly suggests that Rochester is a key element in Antoinette's descent into madness, through his rejection of her and withdrawal of any sense of love or caring. At what point is the borderline crossed between sanity and madness? Can one be pushed through that barrier by another's cruelty and rejection? Can madness be defined by or equated to loss of identity? How can we understand such a process?

From a literary point of view, perhaps the most important message left by Rhys lies in perspective. Wide Sargasso Sea tell us about the life of Antoinette, and is narrated by both Antoinette and Rochester in turn. We are able to observe Antoinette's story from many angles: from the viewpoint of Jane Eyre in the original Bronte novel, from the perspective of Edward Rochester, and through Antoinette's own words and view of herself. This offers a well-rounded analysis of a complex character, accompanied by a strong commentary on the postcolonial world of the Caribbean, issues of racial and gender inequality, and the elusive relationship between identity and insanity.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

As You Sleep

I love to watch you sleep....

All the worries and all the anxieties
washed away by the drifting sands of sleep.
You have entered a place of peace
where no other can follow.

I gently touch your cheek
with the back of my hand
.....soft soft
so as not to awaken
but only to love you
as you sleep.

Do you dream now?
Of what do you dream?
Of faraway worlds where life is everything
you ever dreamt it could be?

I watch your chest rise and fall
with deeply serene breaths,
and I place my hand there
to feel your life
as you sleep.

DLD/15APR07

Lost in Buckinghamshire



Getting lost is a very good thing! As my friend J says, "A map will only lead you to where others have already been" (a quote that currently graces the top of my blog, making this an especially appropriate entry).

Yesterday, we got lost in Marlow, a lovely town in the Thames Valley. It's not a very big place....so it took a considerable effort to lose our spot!


Our first stop was a delightful sandwich cafe, with wonderfully friendly father-and-son Lebanese owners who make fabulous coffee and scrumptious sammidges. Scrambled egg and smoked salmon on a bagel for D, smoked salmon and avocado on a whole-wheat baguette for me. Delicious. (Sorry...no food photo. Plumb forgot.)



After lunch, we strolled and wandered, in search of nothing more than sightseeing, window shopping, interesting photo ops, and the pleasure of each other's company. Curious to see what might be found off the beaten path, we followed our noses through the twists and turns of the narrow streets. Hidden in a tiny walkway, we discovered a lovely pink-blossom- covered fence. What a treasure!

Once we relocated the car (and just in time, only five minutes left on the meter), we spun our wheels through the countryside of Buckinghamshire, enjoying the vistas of green, the bright yellow fields of rapeseed already in full bloom, picturesque 18th-century villages, and the hills and valleys of lovely country roads, overhung with branches not quite in full leaf yet. Really must get back here later in the season.

Go ahead! Get lost! It's good for your soul!

Listening to: Concrete Angel (Martina McBride)
Planning to: Complete my third and final essay this afternoon

Saturday, April 14, 2007

A Classic Love Story

#16 - Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte
Finished 4/14/07
Rating: 5/5
Total Pages: 868 (.pdf file)
Reason for Reading: 18th/19th Century Novel
REVIEW: I am thoroughly delighted that I’ve finally read this book. I actually thought I had read it before as a teenager, but within a very few chapters, I realized that the story was all new to me. And what a pleasure it was….to come to such a beautifully wrought story at this stage of life. I very much identified with the character of Jane, and her search for love and happiness. The language throughout was stunning and evocative, Bronte’s choice of words magically perfect. I couldn’t help but think it would be an amazing book to read aloud with someone special. Who couldn’t be enchanted with the classic love story of Jane Eyre and Edward Rochester? I dare you to read this novel and not love it!

* * * * *

What a wonderfully delicious read.....It's one of those very few books that you could close at the end, then re-open immediately and start all over again at page 1. Jane's story resonated through my brain and my heart in a way that I could never have expected, and I suspect in large part it was due to Bronte's choice of Jane as the narrator and her skillful presentation of Jane's thoughts and feelings. I experienced page after page of Jane's musings, expectations of life, struggles with decision-making, and dreamy imaginings as though they were my own. I could practically copy and paste some of them into a diary and call them mine!

It's next to impossible to choose a favourite quote. Better I should just recommend you read the thing yourself, as the entire book would constitute a favourite quote for me, right from beginning to end. These lines though, simple as they are and thoroughly dated to another place and time, sent a deep current of emotion through my soul:

“Never had he called me more frequently to his presence; never been kinder to me when there – and, alas! never had I loved him so well.” [p. 470/pdf]

For the Love of Trees

Everywhere I go I take photos of trees. This one was taken last February in a park in Coventry. I love the green bark and the bare branches.

Once when I found myself in a real emotional funk, a very good friend gave me this guidance: Get thee out amongst the trees. Walk in the woods. Wander through a forest. Find a leaf that wants to come home with you. This is advice that I have used over and over again, with amazingly calming results. (Many thanks, H.)

Now, anytime that I’m feeling glum or confused or uncertain or lonely, I head out somewhere where there are trees….surround myself with their beauty and life and wisdom. Sometimes there will be a leaf…. often on the ground, but sometimes still clinging to a branch, that calls to me. And just as I was guided by H, I bring that leaf home with me as a symbol of all that is right with the universe. Being amongst the trees in the first place, and contemplating the chosen leaf in the second, helps me to straighten out my brain, encourages me to quit focusing on myself, and gets me back to a place where I can see the big picture again.

So, yes.... I have a large collection of photos of trees, and a special connection with trees and leaves that most people don't understand.

(Today's tree thoughts brought to you by inspiration from Carl's blog .... and the beautiful tree art posted there today.)

Listening to: Calling All the Dreamers (Nigel Nisbet), on iTunes Power3201.
Getting ready for: An afternoon of country exploring....YAY! TREES!! *grin*

Friday, April 13, 2007

A Place of Enchantment

As I wander aimlessly
through this green and wondrous land....
I come upon a forest glade.
A long, low wooden table stretches
as far as the eye can see....
and further.

Elves, fairies and other magical creatures scurry about...
sometimes only glimpsed from the corner of my eye
(because some do not like to be seen by mere humans, you see)
refilling enormous golden platters,
pouring a silvery stream of glittering liquid into sparkling crystal chalices,
brushing crumbs from the velvet cushions,
straightening the silverware,
touching up the bouquets of
....creamy white lilies
....deep red roses
....and daisies

Who has placed this magnificent feast here?

As I draw nearer...
a small one runs forward with an eager smile....
She takes my hand gently
with a delicate touch that speaks of
….silken softness
….quiet tranquillity
….eons of remembrance
and leads me forward wordlessly.
Her iridescent wingtips
brush my bare arms softly,
unobtrusively.

“Come,” she whispers shyly,
in a voice that sounds like wind chimes,
and indicates an empty space.

In amazement,
I gather my legs under me,
and lower myself onto the sapphire velvet cushion,
not yet knowing what is expected of me
in this place of enchantment.

There are others all around,
and plates are passed.
It is only then that I realize
that the feast presented here
offers not food for the body,
but for the spirit.

The platters are heaped with…
Genuineness
Tenderness
Generosity
Patience
Wonder
Delight
Love

All are offered in silence.
All are offered in unlimited quantities.
There is nothing you cannot have.

Will you join me in the forest?

DLD/13APR07

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Love Freely Given

Love freely given
without any hint
....of expectation
......nor of return
........is the most
...........beautiful
...........amazing
..............honest
...............loving
..................pure
...................gift
..................ever
........................
This is..............
what I offer.......
and what I seek.

DLD/11APR07

Afraid to Love

Afraid to love
means afraid to hurt.

None of us means to turn our back
on that magnificent glorious experience,
but only to protect.

We have all been hurt
so many times.

And there are many
who treat us like
.....chattels
..........(or much worse)
while wearing the mask
.....of a friend
..........(or so much more)

Opening your heart is
painful, frightening, exhausting.
Understanding who will keep it safe
is a life's work.

DLD/11APR07

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Is the Spell Broken?

#15 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by J.K. Rowling
Finished 4/10/07
Rating: 3/5
Total Pages: 956
Reason for Reading: b-a-w ATF list, Once Upon a Time Challenge
REVIEW: Let me start this review with two big and very important words: TOO LONG! Almost 1000 pages, and in my opinion, about 500 pages too long. It seems clear to me that Rowling is no longer subject to the editing that would allow her writing to shine. Obviously, this is intended for a younger audience, and, like many others, I enjoy a good YA book from time to time. And many of them translate well to more mature readers. But with this fifth Harry Potter adventure, I lost patience with the continuing litany of activities and events that did little or nothing to advance the plot. By the time I got to the big crescendo, I was so deflated and tired of reading the book that it lost almost all impact. I highly doubt that I will continue with this series.

* * * * *

I think it's a real shame that I didn't enjoy this book more. I really wanted to!! The Harry Potter phenomenon is somewhat reminiscent of the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys books of my youth. Everyone read them, everyone loved them, everyone collected them. But HP has taken the experience of YA literature to the ultimate, in this modern world of rampant consumerism -- with all sorts of accompanying merchandise and movies.

There is no doubt that J.K. Rowling is a very talented author that knows how to appeal to her target audience. I have a very clear memory of driving across Canada on vacation, with my youngest son happily curled up in the back seat with #2 and #3 in the series....immersed in the world of Hogwarts for day after day and thousands upon thousands of miles. But I don't think I can get through two more thousand-pagers. Shame that.

Listening to: Eve (Chantal Kreviazuk)
Watching: A Fish Called Wanda

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Living with Freedom

Living with freedom
means more than wings.

Freedom offers choice
and yet great responsibility.
Extend your wings of courage
to shelter those who have no voice....
to protect those who have no sanctuary....
to help those whose souls can no longer withstand
the ravages of devastation.

Suffer with the children
who know no safety.
Cry alongside the women
whose lives have been violated.
Grieve with the men
whose families have experienced
.....violence
..........destruction
...............defeat
.....................D A R K N E S S . . . . .

Can you hear their screams?
Can you feel their despair?
Can you reach them?

Freedom is a gift
that must be shared
in order to be fully realized.

DLD/08APR07

Signs of Spring

Delicate lavender tulips in planters at All Hallows Church in central London.












We've had lots of sunshine and lovely warm temperatures for many weeks now, but spring to me means flowers. Flowers everywhere. It's my first spring here in England, and they tell me it's here early this year. Too early. I'm not sure what "too early" means to the ecosphere, but it suits me just fine.

The Inhumanity of Humanity

The year 2007 is the 200th anniversary of the abolition of slavery in England. Yesterday, I took in an exhibition that tries to educate, make amends, and raise awareness about issues of modern-day slavery.

The Zong is an 18th-century replica slave ship that has been used for films (including the upcoming Amazing Grace) and exhibitions. After a perusal through some documents about the slave trade and a short film, we were taken by tender out to the Zong, anchored in the Thames River near the Tower of London.

The real thing would've been half again as large, but, even knowing that, I was still struck by the smallness of it. The on-deck area seemed very tiny compared to what I expected. Despite the fact that I was supposed to be learning about the horrors of slavery (and I did), I was also fascinated by the rigging, ropes, spars, masts, and other 18th-century sailing ship paraphernalia.

Upon descending into the hold, the impact of the small size and cramped conditions became profoundly clear. A ship like this would carry over 300 captured Africans, literally stacked together like so much cordwood, stuck into "shelves" no more than 2'7" in height, for a transatlantic voyage that took an average of 2-3 months to complete. The stench of illness, human waste, and psychological distress is unimaginable; the torture and inhumane treatment are true testaments to the need to understand and confront man's capacity for inhumanity to his fellow man. It must be remembered that black Africans were treated no differently than animals -- the slave traders (mostly white Europeans) did not view them as part of the human species. Hundreds were thrown overboard to drown, simply because a carrier's insurance policy wouldn't cover loss due to illness or death.

The issue of modern-day slavery brings up some "hmmm...." moments for me. I guess the anthropologist in me looks at the topic somewhat critically and I questioned some of the approaches implemented. But the numbers are positively frightening. According to the information presented, some NGOs estimate that up to 200 million people are enslaved in today's world. The question that arises in my mind is: How exactly do you define "slavery"?

You can read more about the Free At Last Exhibition here.

Listening to: Brown Sugar (Rolling Stones).
Celebrating: Two essays down, one to go. (*small sigh*)

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Come

Come.
My hand awaits your gentle grasp.
I will bring you with me
to a place of trust
and beauty....

Join me in this glade
where the trees hold hands
high overhead,
and the wind plays
sweet notes of summer.

Follow me to the sea.
The surf will play with your hair,
and we will lie together
in the sand,
waiting for the water
to wash us away.

Come.
Time is motionless...
The world will stop breathing,
and watch us become
together.

DLD/07APR07

Friday, April 06, 2007

Reach Out

In the midst of confusion
and disappointment
and sorrow...

Reach out with your arms
and draw the Spirit into your being....

Reach out with your eyes
and behold the spectacle of
the universe that will guide and direct you,
simply because you asked.

Reach out with your heart.
Surround and enclose others.
Let your own pain be as a tool
to teach you understanding and compassion.

Reach out with your spirit
as it merges with the Great Spirit.
Believe in the balance of the cosmos.
Follow the path to consummation,
even when it moves in
unexpected directions
and the progress is slow.

Know that thine life is true.
Trust.

DLD/06APR07

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Spider at Play

( for Jacquie )

the sun is setting in england
i should be writing (essays)
but instead i'm mesmerized by the sky
wisps of white clouds, traces of jet tracks
streak across the horizon
a single thread of luminous spider silk
sparkles and dances

how does a spider build a web
three storeys above the ground?

i can feel the warmth of the sun's rays
streaming across my desk
tempting me to toss aside the tasks
and come out to play

DLD/05APR07

Speaking of Buckets....

I almost tossed my computer into one yesterday.

In the midst of my usual morning mail/news/blog/message board routine, while switching between windows -- suddenly, with no warning, and for no apparent reason -- ALL of the saved mail disappeared from my email program (Macintosh Mail, for those who may want to be made aware).

My reaction? BLAWK!!!

Maybe you're like me. Maybe you store your LIFE in your email program. Maybe your email program acts as one mondo filing system, nicely partitioned out into separate mailboxes for different correspondents, a place for important memos, an Inbox that acts like a daily agenda. (Oh, yes, I still need to take care of that little task today.) I'm always telling people .... Need my attention on something? Need me to do a favour for you? Email me. The mail sits in my Inbox as a constant reminder until the task is completed, and then into the Trash she goes.

My next reaction? BLAWK!!!!!!!

First attempted solution: Restart the program.
Whew! Thank goodness....There's all the nice little mails all tucked into their nice little mailboxes again. However, perhaps a quick back-up is in order? N'est-ce pas?? :)

Diligently, I go about the task....and before even five minutes has passed..... BLAWK!!!!!!!!!

Yup, all the mails have disappeared again. Well, lucky me....I've managed to drag them all onto the desktop JUST....IN....TIME!!!

Restart the program. Um. Okay. Macintosh Mail opens as though I've never ever used it before. Aaarrggghhhhh..... The only thing it has retained is the account information, and it proceeds to download 800+ emails that have been sitting on my Yahoo server for the past month. But ALL of the older mails are gone...gone...gone....

No problem, right? :) I'm a good little computer girl, and I have my handy-dandy back-up disk right here, plus the newest mails that haven't been backed up yet are sitting pretty on my desktop. All I gotta do is import them back into the program and I'm back in business. However....Macintosh Mail has one more nifty little surprise for me. It refuses to recognize ANY of my backed up mail files. Nothing....zippo....nada. "These aren't the files I need," the program tells me (well, not in so many words, but you get my drift). Thousands of saved emails. Completely useless and unreadable.

My reaction? Yup. You got it. BLAWK!!!!!!! (I used up an awful lot of "blawks" yesterday....lemme tell ya.)

I fought and struggled and punched and argued and turned blue in the face, and it made no difference. The backed-up files would not return to what, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be a newly installed program of the exact right category. All of my old mail files were utterly useless. May as well be tossed in that proverbial bucket right alongside the computer that will no longer read them. CLANG!!

To make a long and frustrating story short(er), an intensive internet search for help finally turned up a nice little "factoid" that the Apple people failed to tell me about. The currently available operating system that I'm using (OS X, Version 10.4.9, aka "Tiger") stores backed-up mail in a new format that isn't recognized by the Mail program that the computer comes prepackaged with. Now....is it just me, or is this a rather bizarre thing to do to your enthusiastic new customer??

This morning, I have found a tiny little gadget that has now transformed all the unrecognizable .emlx files into the older .mbox versions that Mail knows how to read, and the old mails are safely reinstalled again.

Moral of the story? Just because you're a diligent backer-upper-er-er-(er?).... it doesn't necessarily mean your data is safe and/or recoverable. I bet that really makes you a happy camper this morning.

And yes, I'm in the market for a new email program. Anyone got a recommendation?

Listening to: The yelling inside my head. (OK, guys, cut it out....I can't hear Diana Krall when you keep shouting like that.)
Frustrated about: Losing a writing day and needing to navigate the learning curves of a new email program.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Never Hesitate

Never hesitate to choose
the most daring colours
to splash across the canvas of your life
with wild abandon.

Once in awhile
you just need to use a bucket.

DLD/04APR07

Monday, April 02, 2007

The Dust of Wisdom Past

The dust of wisdom past
strikes through my vision
as if sunbeams,
penetrating the darkness
of my thirsty soul.

Purity of thought
mixed in fine measure
with a glimmer of originality.
Sorting through tomes
of brilliant confusion
to find the one gem
that resonates.

Learning is wisdom
unearned.

DLD/02APR07

The Light of the World

The light of the world
lives in a small and innocuous place,
within your mind.

Choose to access it.
Open the door.... allow the light to flood your being.
Watch as it pools in your head,
diffuses through your body,
immerses its silvery brilliance
in you.

Let it glimmer in your eyes
Let it pour out from your fingertips
Let it expand from your heart
Let it light your soul

Share.

DLD/02APR07

A favourite...

Variation on the Word Sleep
by Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame

in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Happy Birthday, J !!

My first son's 33rd birthday today.... My goodness, that was a few lifetimes ago.

I was SO young....only 19 years old when he was born -- on April Fool's Day, no less -- in 1974. I was still a child myself!! I had no idea of the bumps and twists and turns that were in store over the next three decades....and I'm still navigating the swirling currents, and expect I will be doing so for a long long time to come.

I'm immensely proud of my oldest. He has forged a life for himself in the north, built several successful businesses, and is a wonderful dad to my beautiful granddaughter.

Happy Birthday to CdnReader's #1 Son!!! *grins*

Listening to: Your Little Secret (Melissa Etheridge)
Anticipating: The mailman! Three books ordered from Amazon today -- Anansi Boys (Gaiman), Natasha and Other Stories (Bezmozgis), Wide Sargasso Sea (Rhys).