Wednesday, October 23, 2019

punks, clowns and thugs



So.

Today a bunch of Republican congressional members barged into a meeting.  A meeting which was being held by other congressional members (INCLUDING Republicans) holding impeachment hearings.

In a room classified "SECRET," they barged in with their phones on live feed.

Republicans keep trying to get the rumor started that they're not being allowed into the hearings and have no idea what's going on.

Idiots.

How convenient (but WHY?) to forget 
47 Republican members of Congress do, in fact, sit on the House Intelligence, Foreign Affairs and Oversight committees, which are conducting the impeachment inquiries.

Intelligence and manners left out of the equation when it comes to electing Republican congressmen and women these days.

I'm old enough to remember with congressional members (of both parties) were gentlemen and statesmen. 

Or, at least that's the public face they showed the world, for the most part. 

The GOP is now not much more than clowns and thugs who have no sense of decorum, no respect for this country and its constitution, and appear to have been raised by barbarians. 

With bubba trump as their lord and master, they have exactly what they deserve. 

But the rest of us do not and I am tired of the constant pissing contests they're engaged in. 

We're the laughing stock of the rest of the world, when they're not concerned about the maniac who has access to nuclear codes. 

I'm tired of the daily drama and I am so ready for it all to end. 

I don't see it ending well, or peacefully but that's what happens, I guess, when you live in a country ruled by punks, clowns and thugs.


Saturday, October 19, 2019

Mother Nature and Abstract Art




Mother Nature /  Abstract Art





Anya Kazlowski






Kathleen Patrick





Shiraga Kazuo



Friends have asked me why I enjoy some pieces of abstract art.

Not all pieces appeal to me, just like not all of anything appeals to me.

But to those who say they don't like any abstract art, I am probably as confused by that as they might be about why I'm attracted to a particular piece.



I don't try to force a "meaning" into it.  I just accept that the colors, shapes and forms are aesthetically pleasing to me and let it go.


Sitting on our deck enjoying the leaves this time of year is, basically, the same thing as far as I'm concerned.


Colors, shapes and forms.


Mother Nature /  Abstract Art

Not so different

Thursday, October 10, 2019

Prayer takes many forms



We pray in different ways.

- - -


I oftentimes wonder how people who don't write handle their feelings.

But even when I'm thankful for being able to let words flow onto a page, sometimes even that is not enough.

And I pick up my camera.

I woke up this morning feeling a sadness for the deaths that the man who occupies our country's house in Washington DC has caused.

The many who are dying right now.

This very minute.

And their loved ones.

Helpless.

I feel helpless and am fighting feeling hopeless.

And, I have no words.

But I have tears.

I think those tears are a sort of prayer.

My prayers come in simple forms.

I am not one to sit amongst people in a church.  

Organized religion is not for me.

That is not to say I'm not a believer.

But I believe in my own way, I guess.

It's not unusual for me to whisper a quiet "Thank You."

I have whispered it while sitting on our deck looking into the woods behind our house.





I have whispered it while standing in Notre Dame in Paris.





Beauty moves me to whisper "Thank You."

And I trust that it's heard.

Today I whispered it to the trees while Annabelle and I sit on the back deck.  And I cried.

Cried for the Kurdish.  

Cried for those of us in the rest of the world who believe that America, at the hands of a monster, is the cause of the deaths that are happening right now.

Right now as I sit on my back deck pondering the beauty of the trees in our backyard and purity of the peace I'm usually able to feel while sitting here.

Right now as I realize there are many on this earth who have never, in their entire lives, felt this kind of quiet peace.

And I pick up my camera, and say my inadequate "Thank You"

And -

I whisper, "Forgive Us"