Monthly Archives: March 2018

siesta fiesta.

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so here it is, the last day of march

and i just found out that march is national sleep month

had i known i would have fully celebrated

each and every day

like a long fiesta with long siestas

and i will do my best to make up for it today

who am i not to honor a holiday?

“there is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.”

-homer

 

 

 

 

image credit: animalandnature.com

grassroots.

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i loved this grassroots campaigner 

and his simple old-school way to reach the people

no glitz, no glam, no sound bites

just two young volunteers helping him

a speaker playing music

 food and drink handed out for free

 petitions passed around and signed

hands shaken

  questions answered

face to face

good to see a real person. 

 

“the little grassroots people can change this world.”

 wangari maathai

 – kenyan politcal activist, awarded the 2004 Nobel Peace Prize for her

“contribution to sustainable development, democracy and peace”.

where hobbies, hijinks, and capers go bad = my childhood #1

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it began with the arrival of a letter when i was seven years old

with stamp on it that looked different from any i had ever seen

so beautiful and very exotic

and it came from my nana

who lived far away from michigan, in the exotic land of florida.

i thought that it was beautiful

and i decided then and there to become a stamp collector.

i cut that stamp from the envelope and glued it into a notebook.

not long after

i saw an offer to join a monthly stamp collecting club

in my archie comic book

and i noticed, as  i went to send in the offer

 that a parent had to sign it

so i asked my dad to give me his autograph on a piece of scrap paper

cut it out and glued it onto the form

(an early foray into my ill-fated attempts at a criminal career)

added in 99 cents from my piggy bank

and i was off to the races.

i eagerly awaited the day my first stamps would arrive

i had chosen some beauties and i ran home every day

hoping to find them in the mail

and on one glorious day – they were waiting for me!

i tore open the envelope

excitedly looked through them

licked them and placed them in my book

already looking forward to the next month’s arrival.

no one in my family was a collector

so i was taken by surprise when i showed them off to my friend’s older sister

who told me that real collectors only put them in cases

never touch them, and would never, ever lick them

– or they would instantly be made worthless!

i was quite taken aback

as it had never occurred to me that

this would be the reason people collected them

i had thought of them more as a collection of tiny beautiful pictures,

pieces of art, from places far away –

new guinea, finland, new zealand and even the legendary land of  canada

i had chosen flowers, and children, and animals, and pretty designs

with no interest at all in old president’s heads, history, nor with any regard for value.

my version of ‘stamp collecting’ was simply collecting my favorites

and keeping them all in one place, in my special notebook.

i have always loved a mix of patterns and colors and collages of things.

the other thing i had not considered at all

was that i had no income

and would have to continue to pay in order to continue to receive stamps

the next month, when my new set arrived

i gathered more change together, put it in an envelope,

and of course it was never received.

they sent a new batch of stamps along with a due bill and i was panicked

still without any source of income

always waiting for them to show up at the door to tell my parents and to collect.

by the third month,

i simply collected envelopes that came from them

affixed with boring american stamps,

filled with letters, asking me to pay up

and my stamp collecting hobby fell by the wayside.

though i still have a great appreciation for beautiful stamps

and love licking them to put on handwritten letters that i send to places all over the world.

“synonyms for collectable postage stamps: “sticky treasures,”

“collection of paper heads,” “pretty bits of paper,” and “colorful scraps.”

-alan brandley – The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

 

museum.

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curbside museum

a small and quirky museum hidden is inside a fence

in canmore, alberta, canada

curbside museum is an unassuming curiosity in the mountain town of canmore, canada. the tiny museum is always packed with intricate little exhibits that rotate every so often. each exhibit is incredibly detailed, their contents all stuffing the glass showcase to the brim with a delightfully unexpected assortment of items.

this tiny museum is hidden within a hole in a fence that lines a busy street. the gilded frame is the only hint that this particular stretch of fence holds more than first meets the eye. you could easily walk right past it if you weren’t paying attention.

you’ll find subjects ranging from common scenes to those that transcend into the realm of fantasy. some of the showcases take on a more serious, factual tone, though many exhibits do indeed have an element of whimsy and charm.

the museum is a fun addition to the town and adds a moment of joy for any pedestrians who stop and take a peek. it’s a reward for eagled-eyed passersby who take the time to notice their surroundings. the museum is free and is open day and night.

“a museum should not just be a place for fancy paintings

but should be a place where we can

communicate our lives through our everyday objects.”

-orhan pamuk

 

 

 

 

credits:  curbside museum, atlas obscura.com, city of canmore, alberta

run.

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et, longtime sporty friend of mine

signed up to do a quick 5k this morning

prior to our bookclub brunch

and was surprised to learn

that she was somehow stuck doing a 5-miler

due to a ‘volunteer miscommunication error’

and toughed it out, arriving  on time.

please note the difference in her demeanor, expression, and body language

in the photos

before (above)

still running and realizing the mileage

and

after (below)

arriving at brunch and enjoying a breakfast bud light.

here’s to her mighty spirit.“either you run the day or the day runs you.”

-jim rohn

march forward in march.

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proud to march today

with neighbors near and far

and with daughter and grandies

carrying the spirit and our legacy.

 

==

“only those with tenacity can march forward in march”
― ernest agyemang yeboah

 

 

 

 

credit: click on detroit, wdiv-tv, meredith bruckner

 

revelation.

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i so enjoyed irish musician

glen hansard

one of my absolute favorites

you may remember him from the indie film ‘once’

for his surprise academy award for best song that year

for his heartfelt, passionate, and powerful music

or perhaps not at all

but on this night

he told the stories behind each of his songs

invited detroit musicians up on stage with him

sang a traditional irish song with his entire crew

including the roadies

giving each a chance to shine

asked the audience to sing with him 

and graciously thanked all for being a part of this night

i’ve seen him with his band ‘the frames’

and with his partner as the ‘swell season’ duet

and this time

with a mix of irish, canadian, and american musicians

all playing as one

and i was amazed all over again. 

“music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.”

-ludwig van beethoven

below is a live version of a song (fitzcaraldo)

that he performed in ireland with the frames,

definitely worth 6 minutes of your life.

hang in there until the end. 

never ending.

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A Never-Ending Poem Grows in the Netherlands
De Letters van Utrecht is carved into the city streets and will continue indefinitely.

Upon first glance, Oudegracht looks like any other brick-lined street weaving through Utrecht, Netherlands. Flanked on one side by a canal and storefronts on the other, the thoroughfare bustles with pedestrians and cyclists in the early morning hours as they go about their business—but what sits underfoot is what makes this street truly unique.

Since 2012, a team of poets has been creating a never-ending poem, which is embedded into the cobblestones lining the street.

Called De Letters van Utrecht, the “social sculpture” is constantly evolving and continues to expand every Saturday afternoon when one of 22 stone carvers from a local guild chisels a single letter into the stone. As the weeks, months, and years pass by, the poem evolves, continuing indefinitely so long as the city and community members support it. So far, seven poets have contributed to the project, each one writing prose until it’s time to hand the poem off to his or her successor.

The poem thus far, roughly translated in English, reads:
“You have to begin somewhere to give the past its place, the present matters ever less. The further you are, the better. Continue now,
leave your footprints. Forget the flash, in which you may exist, the world is your map. If there was a time when you where another: it went by.
You are the other already. You are, as you know, the center of this story. This is eternity. It lasts. It has the time. Become one with your story and revel. Tell.
Tell us who you are with every step. In our story we vanish inevitably, only you remain in the long run. You and these letters hewn from stone. As the letters on our grave.
The cracks in the cathedral’s tower. Raised to heaven as an index finger, to identify the guilty and demand more time. So that we can walk straight again as humans along the canal.Those staring at their feet. Look up! See Utrecht’s churches stand out. Raise your hands, beg with the towers for this privilege: to be, to be now. The weather is good.
Continue to stare. Life is witness to your gaze to the horizon. Your footsteps connect the past with written letters.…”

“Each poet is limited to 52 letters a year, since we put a new letter out every week,” Dick Sijtsma, one of the project’s founders, tells Smithsonian.com. “As long as we have poets and stone masons, the poem will continue to grow.”                              A stone mason carves Letter 946 as part of De Letters van Utrecht. 

In order for a poet to qualify for participation, he or she must have published at least a book of poetry or two, and even if they make the cut, their proposed verses must be approved by the guild. Last year, Utrecht became the 25th Unesco City of Literature thanks to its rich literary history, so De Letters van Utrecht is able to select from a deep pool of local candidates. Ruben van Gogh, one of the founders, was the poet responsible for writing the poem’s first lines, which were then backdated to January 1, 2000 to help fill out the poem.“Otherwise, it would have taken years for people to notice that something was going on,” van Gogh tells Smithsonian.com. “Plus, 2000 was a good year to back date it to.”

So far the poem stretches the length of a single city block, but the guild of poets has mapped out its future path, which will one day wind through the city just like Utrecht’s elaborate canal system. Until then, the project has grown in popularity and continues to garner attention from locals and visitors alike. Van Gogh says it’s not uncommon to see a crowd of people gather each Saturday to witness the carving and to attempt to guess the direction the verse will take.

“Once when I was visiting on a Saturday, the assigned stone carver didn’t show up, but then another stone carver just happened to ride by on his bicycle,” van Gogh recalls. “He’s the senior stone carver who trained the others, and happened to have his tools with him. He told me that he can tell which guild member did each carving based on its appearance.”

“Often the letters receive sponsors who can then carve a special inscription into the side of the stone. ”To help fund the project, people can sponsor a single stone and have the stonemason carve a special inscription on the side of it. Sponsorships often celebrate important milestones, such as birthdays, anniversaries and marriages.“Even punctuation like colons and periods count towards a weekly carving,” van Gogh says. “People are really excited to sponsor the period at the end of a sentence.”Sijtsma agrees adding, “One time we had someone who was coming to the end of his career, and he wanted to end that phase of his life in a symbolic way.”

So the big question: What’s up next for the poem? Sijtsma and van Gogh say that they’re keeping their lips sealed.“What the future brings is a surprise to all of us,” Sijtsma says.

World Poetry Day,

held annually on March 21, is dedicated to poetry worldwide.

an initiative of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO)


“words are the clothes thoughts wear.”
― samuel beckett

 

credits: smithsonian.com, jennifer nalewicki, dick sijtsma, city of utrecht, netherlands