Hate and the Hater

This great quote from Peace Pilgrim who died this day in 1981.

There is something to that old saying that hate injures the hater, not the hated. — Peace Pilgrim

Advertisements

We The Peoples

From the Norman Rockwell Museum description of this piece, which was shown at the UN in 2015, part of the We the Peoples exhibit of his work. (Click image for larger view)

In 1952, at the height of the cold war and two years into the Korean War, Rockwell conceived an image of the United Nations as the world’s hope for the future. His appreciation for the organization and its mission inspired a complex work portraying members of the Security Council and 65 people representing the nations of the world—a study for an artwork that he originally intended to complete in painted form. Researched and developed to the final drawing stage, the artist’s United Nations never actually made it to canvas.

We saw it yesterday at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge Mass and it grabbed me by the heart – all those hopeful faces behind the men in suits.

Sunday – Paint, Words and Dad

I got up and out this morning. Forgot about people heading out to brunch for Dad. Bad news: had to wait quite awhile for food (ordered to go because the place was 100% packed). Good news: by the time my food came, on a plate, there were open tables. So it all worked out ok.

Thought I’d do a quick check on the blue herons and stayed to do a painting. Before I’d started on the scene, a father and child showed up, and stayed just long enough for a couple fishing casts and then they were gone again. Made me think about all the happy (and long boring) time spent in our boats fishing over the years. Millions of shiners caught individually by Dad, early in the morning. His time on the lake which let him spend more pleasant time on the lake, catching bigger fish.

This was my bigger painting:

and calling it complete. I was pretty happy with it and hope to do more “less detailed” or looser paintings this week.

I had a couple other visitors too

Day 28, NaPoWriMo

I’m off topic from my own prompts today…

So alike, mother and daughter,
that as the mother scolds her
for sins of inattention and
fidgeting and whining
and perhaps a tantrumI
I can easily imagine the
little girl, using the
same words and tone
to upbraid her mother
you can’t always have
your own way, she’d say,
you won’t get it by pouting,
as she holds out a spoonful
of applesauce to the elder lips
which tremble at the mere
possibility of no.
And so it goes on, her
fidgeting and whining
the mother scolding and
distractedly fixing
her daughter’s earring
until they both focus on
something else in the
food court and leave
on a singular mission
of fulfilling desires.

In other news…

It’s not often I get to experience something for the first time and something that no one I know has reported… but this week… yup, that’s me!

I was patting myself on the back recently for remembering to restock the old toilet paper after putting the last roll in the bathroom. Pat. Pat. Pat. Well done woman, well done!

Time passes and the day comes to break into the new package and put the next roll on. Something seemed weird from the beginning but it took me a few days to figure it out. And I’ve been laughing ever since because…

This roll of my normal plain ol’ Scot 1000 HAS NO FREAKIN’ PERFORATIONS!

You may begin to laugh now… maybe there’s a poem in there somewhere.

Day Fourteen, NaPoWriMo

Last night
a few days after
the last seen flurry,
a scent of,
daring, spring.
Just past the last
hill home where
the shoulder
is a stream now
dopplerized frogs
in a night
of crossing roads
of crossing seasons
no need to tarry
no reason to hurry,
we’re here.

Day Thirteen, NaPoWriMo

I don’t remember if the accompanying gold had a specific name but that green darkened many a kitchen cabinet and appliance in its day…

Long ago, in a childhood
far away in upstate New York
kitchens used to be
avocado,
A color foreign,
dark olive green, not
quite army or khaki
sometimes paired with gold.
But avocado was something
unknown, a mysterious myth
of something which
might be real. Somewhere else.
As a fashion decorating goal
it ceded to red or blue or white
and now, I think, concrete
but what that name,
that dark color meant here,
so close to New England
was not revealed for many years
when a bowl of green appeared
next to chips and that
new thing, salsa
as wonderfully exotic as
the dance of the same name.
Now, feeling time-traveled
like readers arriving
finally at the red planet
we embrace the avocado,
not just for chips
it’s snuck into sandwiches
and now, for breakfast
welcome on our toast.