Vivian…
I have not heard from Vivian, but I’m hoping that she’s well on her way to Paris. Or, at the very least…half way down the street. I admire her courage…to follow her dream.
Archive for June, 2019
What kind of future will our children be inheriting from us…
It’s strange to me that people so easily accept the violence around them. The fact that children can no longer play outside without supervision, the fact that they can never be left alone, because they can be taken, violated, or killed, seems insane. No one talks about the fact that life has become too dangerous to allow kids to play outside alone. It would appear that adults have already accepted the fact that their kids can’t go out without them. Children’s freedom has been erased and no one either noticed, cared or realized that it shouldn’t be that way.
It’s the same with everything that’s taken from us. We just seem to ignore what’s going on. I think the day will come when we won’t be able to do that. We won’t be able to ignore the things that are being done to us. We won’t be able to keep giving our children to the state to fight in wars for greed, we won’t be willing to spend our lives working for less, so the rich get richer, we won’t be willing to stay in our homes because it’s too dangerous to go outside. We won’t be able to turn away and when that happens, we’ll have to fight back. It would have been easier if we began fighting years ago, but apparently, we still need to wait for that tipping point.
And those generations behind us should have been stopping what was going on…for us. Things weren’t as easy to see…back then, however. Back when wars were the wars to end all wars. When there were no computers and news wasn’t 24-hours a day. But we know better. No one even tries to hide today’s corruption. They’re proud of it. They’re laughing all the way to the bank at how easy it is to make us work for them.
Meanwhile kids are growing up being monitored from the second they’re born. No privacy, no freedom. Rather than build more monitor to track our kids, maybe we should try and make society safe for them. Maybe for ourselves as well.
The Librarian…14
“So?” asked the Librarian.
“I put in for the complete annihilation of the human male species on this planet, but my request was denied.”
The Librarian nodded. “I knew they wouldn’t let you do it.”
“Something about balance,” sighed Dusa.
“What did they give you?”
“I can take out the government, the rapists, batterers, and I can alter the behavior of those males who are borderline.”
“Well, that’s something,” said the Librarian.
“It’s not enough, but that was their final word.”
“You’ll send in another request?”
“Of course.”
“Hey,” shouted the Librarian, vaulting over the counter. “If you don’t treat books with respect, I’ll throw them at you until you get it.”
The student put the book on the table and ran from the room.”
Dusa chuckled. “Wouldn’t throwing books be a lack of respect for them.”
“Did I ASK you?”
“You did not,” she said, smiling. “Nice to SEE you again.”
“Don’t start. You have no idea what it’s like in this…”
“Place?”
“Yes. In this PLACE.”
“Why do you stay? Why don’t you just let them die?”
“I think they could actually BE something, if we could control the males, or get rid of them.”
“You don’t know that for a fact,” said Dusa.
“No. I don’t. But at least women would have a chance to find out what they could do and who they were. Once they threw off the chains of slavery and were able to live without constant fear…”
“You mean once they weren’t being hunted,” smirked Dusa.
“Yes. I think they could make something out of this place.”
“Why do you care? It’s just another job.”
“I’ve gotten to know a lot of the women around the world, and….”
“You want to help them, don’t you,” she laughed. “So, not only are you unwilling to do what you can do TO help them, by killing the males, you’re emotionally compromised.”
“I am NOT compromised. I’m doing research and making decisions based on that research.”
“You’re too involved.”
“How do you know what I am,” said the Librarian, moving toward her friend.
“When was the last time you had your wings out.”
“What difference does THAT make?” said the Librarian, squinting at her.
“You need to tell yourself the answer to that question,” said Dusa.”
“How’s your mother?”
“Still living in a cave, trying to avoid the stupid males the gods send to kill her. The snakes are fine and send their love.”
“I like them.”
“They know that.”
“Why don’t you kill all those men?”
“Orders.”
“Why do we take orders?”
Dusa looked at her. “I don’t know,” she said. “Why do we?”
The Librarian shrugged. “Maybe we should stop that.”
“Maybe we should.”
“They’ll try and pull our power.”
“They can’t. Not without killing us.”
“Yeah, I know,” said the Librarian. “That’s what I meant.”
“Oh. Well, we’ll need a plan,” said Dusa, gleefully.
“I agree, but take out the government and bad guys first. Then we can think about doing the same where we come from.”
“Deal,” said Dusa.
“The’ll never see it coming,” said the Librarian, as she started stacking books.
“No. They certainly will not.”
“Librarian,” said Mr. Waters, primly. “There’s a dead man on the lawn. He has a note with your name on it, pinned to his shirt.”
Gallery
Queen Isabella
Rosa’s latest gown. Enjoy.
Did you ever feel like you were sculpting an Art Gown?
Well, that’s exactly how I felt building Queen Isabella.
Dedicated to my sweet friend Isabella: I said to her and T, I want Isabella in the title, but with another word.
Without hesitation, T said “Queen”. Without hesitation, it made sense to me.
Isabella is creative, and supports all arts. She’s a wife, a mother and devoted to her family & friends. She throws dinner parties fit for the Art Gowns.
As Art Gowns must reuse, up-cycle or repurpose, I challenged Isabella to donate something she’d been hanging onto for years, but didn’t use anymore. 
She challenged me back, and gave me a very textured dress. The colour made me think of a purple peacock, if such a creature exists.
I dismantled it, and draped the texture on a different angle. The bodice texture demanded a skirt to surpass it…
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I want to…a poem
I want to write
about happy things
about beauty
and freedom
and joy
I want to write
about the pretend
America
the one that never existed
but should have
I want to write about
equality
and peaceful things
I want to write that women
and children are safe
and that men would never
hurt them
I want to write about
free education
and health care
for everyone
for community
and cooperation
I want to write about
the end of racism
sexism, homophobia
agism and all the other
isms
I want to write about
an end of guns
and bombs
and gangs
and religion
and hateful
greedy governments
I want to write about
beaches and sunshine
about laughter
and dancing
not about war
and torture
death and
destruction
I want to write about
wonderful things
like clean air
clean water
clean earth
clean food
happy bees
and animals
thriving in their
wild habitats
I want to write
about a lot of things
but I can’t
there aren’t
any role models
America…
the government
cannot make money off of peace
or equality
that’s why we don’t have those things
there’s no money in happiness either
there’s money in war
and hatred
there’s money in drugs
guns
violence
ignorance
hunger
slavery
and greed
but there’s nothing
for the government to make
off of kindness
compassion
or generosity
those things
have no value to
greedy people
who hunger for power
over others
anything that
supports life
is not allowed
everything that
supports ugliness
death
and violence
is welcomed
with open arms
America isn’t beautiful
I don’t think she never was
Rethinking Life 
Written
on June 30, 2019