A summer picnic

http://cellinto.live/2019/04 party fever tradus in romana elsa The sun was gliding past the trees, we found a wide patch of sun that set the grass aglow, peered into our eyes, and warmed our skin.

zurück erhalten synonym The proper ingredients for a picnic are:

barrière électrique pour chat 1. a thick blanket, large enough to lay down on

http://classkeeping.live/2019/06 welchen rasen kaufen 2. sunglasses

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http://factwork.live ordinary express bus 3. a picnic basket (trust me, it makes it feel much more authentic)

http://indeedfinal.live/2019/05 meister task gantt 4. good people (any combination of 2-6, more is too chaotic and being by yourself is depressing)

remettre terrain de niveau watch 5. a nice park surrounded by beautiful buildings and trees (buildings optional, but make for a nice backdrop)

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http://dangertheir.live/2019/04 fileyeur a vendre 6.  delicious food.  I prefer Persian food if you have some way of keeping it warm, and some fresh fruit.

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Discoveries of small importance

beim ausatmen pfeifen check 1.  Gluten-free sugar cookies dipped in chocolate pudding are heavenly.

schütz rc glied go 2.  Aprons never fit me correctly.  I always have to adjust them, which makes me ignore them altogether.  But I really like the idea of an apron.

marché des jeunes ajaccio watch 3.  Driving a car means fixing it when parts wear out.  Which means that my bank account complains to me of abuse.  It also means that I have to deal with mechanics, which is always a funny experience because I really don’t know anything about cars.

http://hurtknown.live/2019/05 bormioli rocco gläser mit schraubdeckel 4.  An advantage to living in Chicago: there are always visitors coming through.  It helps alleviate the missing-of-friends that happens when you are part of a community that is always moving across the world.

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ausrüstungs addon wow visit 5.  Really looking forward to the weekend.  Work picnic, family, home.  I desperately needed a 3 day break, and was kidding myself that I am not tired. I’m exhausted.

http://friendscame.live/2019/05 konkan railway online application 6.  I had a few friends over the other night to help me finish off a tray of lasagna that I made.  I highly recommend having a lasagna party, and close it out with ice cream or pudding if you can. 🙂

patriciens rome antique 7.  I really missed seeing live music over the last few years.  It had been such a long time.  Going to Summerfest and seeing Stevie Wonder & John Legend in concert was absolutely fantastic, and I need to take advantage of these opportunities.

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http://movingblood.live/2019 wustner architecte reims 8.  I’m on my 6th wedding invitation of the year, and we’re only halfway through!  Whew…

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this is life.

sprüche ewige verbundenheit view the best thing about walking through a crowd is the variety.  to know all of their stories would be too much, we only see pieces of the parts of the person that they are.

magyar sajt kita view humans are so strange.  we are laughing and shouting and listening and waiting.  we chase our children as they scramble unsteadily, praying that they are not preyed upon.  we are consumed with ourselves and keep consuming.  we give more of ourselves, take without thinking or asking.

http://certainworst.live/2019/04 klang farbe orange we taste the wonderful things like…ice cream, sharp cheddar cheese, chocolate chip cookies with just the right amount of chocolate chips, homemade chicken rice soup, sugar snap peas, watermelon, and home fries.

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salon c print lyon here an infant is comforted, a grandmother grasps her grandchild’s hand to be steady, a husband and wife learn to love and be everything that they are.  our friends surround us, make us smile when everything is going wrong.

http://momentmaking.live/2019/06 point shu du dos music surrounds us, fills our bones and moves our feet.  tears fall on the perfect notes, we cringe on the sour ones but that is music too.

http://companyamazing.live/2019/05 adam freiherr von aretin feet on the grass, eyes to the sky, the wind is just right and we smile into the sun.

tactic to bypass usual legislative process there out in the wide wide world the barbs and stones are thrown, out there we are just little sparks seeking the Light, little souls in an infinite set of worlds.

mike sode bendorf there this is life, and it is wonderful.

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waiting

“With aching hearts, Baha’is of the world focus on the events unfolding in Iran, the birthplace of their religion.” -Baha’i World News Service

Every day I read the news.  Whatever tragedy has happened in the world, the media is covering it (I use that term loosely, as I’m rather cynical about the way news is reported).

For the first time in 30 years, the American media is again focused on Iran.  They’re dusting off the talking heads, pundits, and anyone they can find with a connection to the events happening there.

Baha’is have a connection with Iran because it is where the Baha’i Faith began in 1844.  And since its inception, Baha’is in Iran have been persecuted, blatantly or subtly.  The situation is volatile, complicated, and very sad.  And today we hear that the trial date has been set for July 11 for the seven Baha’i leaders who have been in jail for a year without formal charges.  It is possible that they could be executed, simply for being Baha’is.

I have been watching, and waiting, as the situation in Iran has turned chaotic over the election results.  Things are summarized into sound bites, and everyone loves a story about the people fighting against tyranny.  However, it seems rather irresponsible to just throw my opinion out there.  It is so easy to forward an email, post a news story, or blog about a hot news topic.

“The Great Being saith: Human utterance is an essence which aspireth to exert its influence and needeth moderation. As to its influence, this is conditional upon refinement which in turn is dependent upon hearts which are detached and pure. As to its moderation, this hath to be combined with tact and wisdom as prescribed in the Holy Scriptures and Tablets.” –Baha’u’llah

We don’t know what is really happening there, and perhaps it is not our place to interfere.  Yesterday I said the following on Twitter:

“Wisdom in speech, writing, & web postings. Perhaps we should have that as our mantra. We don’t know how our actions affect others.”

“If we are true Bahá’ís speech is not needed. Our actions will help on the world, will spread civilization, will help the progress of science, and cause the arts to develop. Without action nothing in the material world can be accomplished, neither can words unaided advance a man in the spiritual Kingdom. It is not through lip-service only that the elect of God have attained to holiness, but by patient lives of active service they have brought light into the world.

Therefore strive that your actions day by day may be beautiful prayers. Turn towards God, and seek always to do that which is right and noble. Enrich the poor, raise the fallen, comfort the sorrowful, bring healing to the sick, reassure the fearful, rescue the oppressed, bring hope to the hopeless, shelter the destitute!” -Abdu’l-Baha

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One year

It has been 8,760 hours since I came home.

Since I left home.

It is two places now, where I am and where I was.  It is pieces of memories that float to the surface with no warning and leave me gasping for breath.

It is silence in the Mother Temple when I close my eyes and pretend that I am in the Shrines, or standing on the sea wall, or walking down broken stone paths.  I am still near the water, but instead of a warm sea I swim in the cold lake, instead of gardens I am stand in concrete city landscapes.

One year.


So much and so little has changed.  There is a little more knowledge behind my eyes, a little more heaviness in my sighs, more smiles and more quiet.  There is less need to be here and there and everywhere at once.

Work happens every day from 8 am-5 pm, Monday through Friday, just like I prayed for.  Last night I signed a short lease for a place to rest my head at night, and a closet for my clothes.  Resigned and happy.

I miss you and you and you and you and you and most especially you.

In between places and time are the photographs, the Saturday morning brunches, the days upon days at Bahji, the Friday afternoon soccer matches, Thursday nights that were never-ending, Monday’s game night and dinner, Tuesday farewells to the pilgrims, and praying my way down the mountain.

Home is a jumbled mess of prairie grass, the call to prayer, the flat roads, the mountain stairs, a million flowers, snow, sand, sky and no starlight.  Haifa and Chicago.

My eyes have seen and

my heart has known and

my faith is this: I will never be alone.

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A few minutes in between

These last few weeks have really done a number on me.  I finished up my work helping organize the 3rd Annual Baha’i Choral Festival at the Baha’i House of Worship.  The Festival was wonderful, you can read about it here, and watch the hour-long performance here.  (There were readings as well, but had to be cut out of the DVD.)  Then I moved over into another job, which is quite fun and keeps me very busy.  I’m only 4 days into it, and already feeling a bit like I did a year ago, right before International Convention.

I live out of suitcases and my car, my friends’ couch and my parent’s home.  My work is so far from home that commuting is painful.  But I get to see my friends a lot more now, and being in the city is wonderful.

On the continuing theme of my clumsiness, I knocked over a glass last weekend, and promptly sliced my finger open as I tried to rescue it.  Luckily it wasn’t too bad, and thank God for medication.

I went to a lovely wedding this past weekend.  That, combined with several friends visiting from out of town and the usual weekend festivities, created the deadly combination of no sleep, crazy meal schedules, and getting nothing done on my to-do list.  My poor to-do list is feeling quite neglected.

Twitter was sending me into a spiral of distraction, so 9 days ago I took a break.  I don’t really miss it, and I’ve stopped thinking in terms of tweets.  Maybe when things settle back down I’ll get into it again, but right now I’m enjoying the silence.

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Ascension of Baha’u’llah

One year ago.

We walked in the darkness, the glow of lights far away.  The mosquitoes attacked if we sat too long, and so we walked.  The night was damp, the seats surrounding Bahji covered in dew, the rocks less dusty than usual.

We walked up the stairs and down again, we bowed our heads at the threshhold and let tears fall down our faces.

I stood in the room where the Blessed Beauty was freed from this mortal life, and felt the universe revolve around that spot.

We stood at the top of marble columns and looked out over the world, and we stared into the warm summer night, in surprise and awe at this wonderful luck. How were we here at this moment, in this place?

We told stories, whispers that carried through to hearts, and we looked up at a full sky of stars, down at our feet that carried us down the silent paths, and at the light that reflected off our eyes and souls.

Let not your hearts be perturbed, O people, when the glory of My Presence is withdrawn, and the ocean of My utterance is stilled. In My presence amongst you there is a wisdom, and in My absence there is yet another, inscrutable to all but God, the Incomparable, the All-Knowing. Verily, We behold you from Our realm of glory, and shall aid whosoever will arise for the triumph of Our Cause with the hosts of the Concourse on high and a company of Our favored angels.

(Baha’u’llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 139)

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sunsets always make me miss everyone

I wait in silence as they whisper
a thousand shouting voices drowning out
the sounds of every love they have ever known
I wait in heartbeats as they plunder
the only things of worth they have ever owned

And in my silence is acceptance
of the fiery ways that steer us on
In my dreams I see you standing
silent, true, tall and strong
There is no distance I can travel
that takes me further away from you

The words we wrote, the moments stilled
the tears I never cried
There is so much beauty in all of this
and yet we never tried

Can we keep a million secrets
of the times we never shared?
How can we sleep in peace forever
knowing that this is all we had?

This is for the never was,
and all it could have been
This is for the future children
and the moments born within
This is for every second
I never knew was real
This is for all the times I never told you
how it is I truly feel

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Beautiful music

“Raise ye a clamour like unto a roaring sea; like a prodigal cloud, rain down the grace of heaven. Lift up your voices and sing out the songs of the Abha Realm. Quench ye the fires of war, lift high the banners of peace, work for the oneness of humankind and remember that religion is the channel of love unto all peoples. Be ye aware that the children of men are sheep of God and He their loving Shepherd, that He careth tenderly for all His sheep and maketh them to feed in His own green pastures of grace and giveth them to drink from the wellspring of life. Such is the way of the Lord. Such are His bestowals. Such, from among His teachings, is His precept of the oneness of mankind.”

(Selections from the Writings of Abdu’l-Baha, p. 35)


“When eloquence of expression, beauty of sense and sweetness of composition unite with new melodies the effect is ever great, especially if it be the anthem of the verses of oneness and the songs of praise to the Lord of Glory.”

(Tablets of Abdu’l-Baha v1, p. 59)

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This past week

I worked.  Did chores.

Planted things in the garden.  Crossing my fingers that they won’t die or get eaten by rabbits.

Made chocolate covered strawberries and apricots.

Another article that I wrote went up on Soulpancake.

Enjoyed the tulips in the gardens at the Baha’i House of Worship.

Saw Star Trek and LOVED IT.  The nerd in me was so, so happy.

Performed my poetry onstage in Chicago for the first time in years.

Had strange/wonderful dreams: riots, friends, Haifa, happy, sad, beautiful.

Went to a meeting with the youth and some special visitors from Haifa.

Said goodbye to some friends moving across the world (as usual).

Filled out applications.  Tried to make plans.

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Frog prince

We went for a walk on Sunday near the river, and I found my frog prince (ok, he is a toad, but the principle applies).  Unfortunately, he did not change into a human being.

Mr. Toad was quite adorable, however.  Just look at him!

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the unknown

for in your eyes a thousand stars stared down at me
the world spun around the clouds in a perfect sky
with a perfect sea and you all around me

time slipped through, down and never existed
time waited, stopped, and counted
the breaths we took, the tears and smiles
the silent prayers, the laughter over coffee

the ocean, the paths, the stones
watched our meandering ways
with angels over our shoulders

every lost moment before
every lost moment since
tallied up in letters and thought
in the dreams of could have been

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Salsa!

Last night I went salsa dancing for the first time in nearly 3 years.  I couldn’t believe it has been that long.

And then I stepped out on the dance floor, and it was painfully obvious that not only was I very rusty, but woefully untutored.  Thankfully, the majority of the people that I danced with were very good, gave me lots of tips, and were quite patient.  I learned more last night than I have in years.

However, one individual was particularly self-involved.  Sporting a suit and greased-back hair, he thought that he was an exceptional dancer.  No interest in being a good dance partner, he really just wanted to show off.  Unfortunately, he got a little enthusiastic, and ended up kicking my leg.  Very, very painful.

As I hobbled away, I found my friends, who are regulars on the salsa scene.  When I told them what had happened, they started laughing.  Apparently this guy is rather…infamous.   haha.  Well, I’ve been initiated, I guess!

Outside of that rather amusing incident, it was fun and I’m glad I went.  Even though I’m limping today.  🙂

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There it is.

There it is.  Moments that you can taste, hold in your hands and not let out of your sight.  We sigh in vain after the past, we hold our breath and count the stars.

Tonight my heart broke, mended, and went home as my friend’s voice soared in the rafters (thank you for that, Emily).  I remembered what it felt like to be surrounded by these people, these amazing, world-traveling, soul-embracing people.

We forget to be kind to ourselves, to each other.   We are moving in a million different directions, so many paths, and waiting for what we don’t even know exists.

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This time last year

Today is the First Day of Ridvan, and we celebrated by having some friends over for lunch.  Now I am having a quiet afternoon, enjoying the silence, reflecting, and trying to recover from a cold.

The Most Great Festival is, indeed, the King of Festivals. Call ye to mind, O people, the bounty which God hath conferred upon you. Ye were sunk in slumber, and lo! He aroused you by the reviving breezes of His Revelation, and made known unto you His manifest and undeviating Path.

(Baha’u’llah, The Kitab-i-Aqdas, p. 59)

This time last year…I was at Bahji for the celebration of the Holy Day.  We were 5 days away from the Tenth International Baha’i Convention, and I was surprisingly put together and relaxed.  It was spring, but felt a bit more like summer.  Everything is a blur…you know that you need to remember the details, but you don’t have time to write everything down.  The anticipation of waiting for the delegates to arrive, making sure last minute tasks were taken care of, phone calls and emails…

But on the Holy Day, everything stops for a moment.  There is silence, then the sound of chanting filling the gardens at Bahji, and the sunlight strong on my face and hair, the crunching of stones underfoot as over 500 people circumambulate the Shrine of Baha’u’llah, the joy of talking with friends and laughing as the sun begins to set.

…and then back to work.

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New things

I spent some time working on my blog last weekend.  Even though it is April, it was still very much like winter here, and the idea of going outside was not very appealing.

I’ve added a plugin called “Now Reading”, which allows me to share books that I’ve read, that I am currently reading, and that I plan to read.  I’ve been having fun adding books to the list.  While by no means comprehensive, it does give you a taste of some of the books I like.  I have not included most of the fiction I have read, simply because it would contain hundreds of books and I’m too lazy to input all of that information. If you have any reading suggestions for me, please leave a comment!

Finally decided to add a search box to the sidebar below the links, which makes it easier to look for things. 🙂

I’ve also updated my links and about me pages in very minor ways, and added a few blogs to the sidebar: Sarah is writing about her adventures in South Korea, Tajalli talks about promotional marketing, and Lorenia is a strawberry. Also, check out the latest World Art Collective art installation…cute statues, powerful message.

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An open note, #2

Dear teenagers,

Leaving chewing gum on the floor of the dressing room where my new boots can step in it is not acceptable.

Neither is leaving fifteen prom dresses in a crumpled heap on the floor, forcing me to pick them up.  If you thought lifting weights was good for your arm muscles, try prom dresses.

Finally, human skin was never, ever meant to be orange. It hurts my eyes…tone it down a bit.

Sincerely,

me

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the end of winter?

“Unless the season of winter appear, thunder roll, lightning flash, snow and rain fall, hail and frost descend and the intensity of cold execute its command, the season of the soul-refreshing spring would not come, the fragrant breeze would not waft, the moderation of temperature would not be realized, the roses and hyacinths would not grow, the surface of the earth would not become a delectable paradise, the trees would not bloom, neither would they bring forth fruits and leaves. That fierce inclemency of cold, snow, frost and tempest was the beginning of the manifestation of these roses, hyacinths, buds, blossoms and fruits.”

(Abdu’l-Baha, Tablets of Abdu’l-Baha v3, p. 655)

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Persian Perfume

I should start my own perfume line.  It will be based on Persian cooking, mostly.  There will be “Kabob Koobideh“, which smells like it just came off of the grill, “Persian rice”, which has the fragrant aroma of rice and saffron, and of course “Rosewater&Honey”, since that is how all Persian desserts are flavored.  There will be more fragrances as the line expands, of course, but those will be the original products.

My target market is women, especially those who want to attract a man who is looking for a wife who has some of the more…traditional…skills.  He doesn’t have to know that she ordered that ghormeh sabzi, rice, and faludeh from the local Persian restaurant.  She will smell like she has been working in the kitchen all day.  The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right? 😉

I will also target individuals who love Persian food but have not quite gotten the hang of making it correctly, college students who are away from home and miss their mother’s cooking, and people who really wish that they were Persian.

I’ll make a fortune. 🙂

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The Cat

I have never been particularly fond of cats.  They are less predictable than dogs, more aloof, and I am slightly allergic to them.  But cats and I usually come to a sort of…understanding, and avoid each other whenever we must coexist.  I will even pet them if they’re nice.

My cousin is wonderful.  I was staying with her in NYC, and she is a perfect hostess and dear friend.  But her cat…oh my.  We just could not seem to agree.

1. The cat attempted to sit on my head while I was sleeping.  Several times.

2. I woke up at 3 am with two glowing eyes a few inches from my face.  Do you know how disconcerting this is?!

3. My foot was sticking out from under the blanket, and the cat bit my foot.  This was at around 5 am.

4. She knocked my glasses off of the ledge, and then looked at me like it was my fault.

5. I locked her out of the room, and she scratched at the door and mewed all night.

6. She climbed outside the window and stood on the ledge, several stories off the ground.  I was really hoping I wouldn’t watch this cat fall off of the ledge.

hahaha.  Regardless of all of this, it was pretty amusing. And my poor cousin kept trying to keep her cat off of me, with limited success.

(The criminal, looking guilty as usual.)

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I like…#8

open faces that smile a lot

foggy days when the rain barely mists down

overhearing strange conversations

New York City

the way words can mean so many different things

dancing for hours

feeling like I am back in Haifa

patterns

(I Like: #1,#2,#3, #4, #5, #6, #7)

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Here I go!

There is something about traveling…airports, the unknown, the things that my eyes see that are different from everyday life.  And for the life of me, I can’t seem to pack in advance…so I find myself trying to consolidate everything into a suitcase at midnight.  I might have managed, and will have to be content with what I’ve done.

I am going to attend a wedding that I am ecstatic about.  I am going to see friends, both from my service at the Baha’i World Centre and from closer to home.  I am going to stay with my cousin, who is eerily similar to me and who I am very excited to spend time with.  Most of all, I will get out of Chicago for a few days, which is exactly what I need.

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Naw Ruz

Today is the Baha’i new year, Naw Ruz.  It has been one hundred years since the remains of The Bab were laid to rest in the Shrine on Mount Carmel.  For one and a half years, I could see the Shrine from my apartment.  Such a blessing!

“…’Abdu’l-Bahá had the marble sarcophagus transported with great labor to the vault prepared for it, and in the evening, by the light of a single lamp, He laid within it, with His own hands — in the presence of believers from the East and from the West and in circumstances at once solemn and moving — the wooden casket containing the sacred remains of the Bab…”

‘The most joyful tidings is this,’ He wrote later in a Tablet announcing to His followers the news of this glorious victory, ‘that the holy, the luminous body of the Bab … after having for sixty years been transferred from place to place, by reason of the ascendancy of the enemy, and from fear of the malevolent, and having known neither rest nor tranquillity has, through the mercy of the Abha Beauty, been ceremoniously deposited, on the day of Naw-Ruz, within the sacred casket, in the exalted Shrine on Mt. Carmel… By a strange coincidence, on that same day of Naw-Ruz, a cablegram was received from Chicago, announcing that the believers in each of the American centers had elected a delegate and sent to that city … and definitely decided on the site and construction of the Mashriqu’l-Adhkar.'”

(Shoghi Effendi, God Passes By, p. 276)

I remember how often he [Shoghi Effendi] would tell the visiting pilgrims that because a simple candle was denied the beloved Bab during His imprisonment in Mah-Ku, His resting-place was to be eternally a temple of light. This was also true inside His tomb, where there is a magnificent chandelier, with almost a hundred electric bulbs that, when lighted, turn the sombre dim light of the inner chamber into the full glory of brilliant sunshine.

(Ugo Giachery, Shoghi Effendi – Recollections)

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Things you should know

NYLON PARLA, the photoblog that I contribute to, has this week’s theme up, which is “Streetlife”.  Check it out!

Also, the illustrious and illustrative Ekundayo has made this awesome poster, which I want to share with you.

A Public Service Announcement

The caption on the picture states:

“I’m not saying comedy and satire have no place in the racial discussion. I’m saying that lately its become acceptable, especially among young white males and the peers and comedians they look to for social cues, to say incredibly hateful and ignorant things behind a smokescreen of irony or shock humor. Saying “I’m not racist” after thinking of and deciding to actually say something racist is not enough to get you off the hook. Spread this around if you agree.”

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Something that has never happened before

I read books like they are the last pieces of driftwood and I am drowning.  They are my lifeline, inspiration, education, and friends.  I learned to read before I went to school, my parents forming letters and words, using the Baha’i Writings and endless books to teach me.  I learned to write much more sloppily.  But this is not about writing, it is about reading.

I have read so many books that I forget if I’ve read something before, sometimes.  Half of my high school library collection was devoured in the four years that I was there.  I think I was voted “Most likely to become a librarian” in an informal class poll.

One of my favorite passages from a fictional book comes from The History of Love:

“Even now, all possible feelings do not yet exist.  There are still those that lie beyond our capacity and our imagination.  From time to time, when a piece of music no one has ever written, or a painting no one has ever painted, or something else impossible to predict, fathom, or yet describe takes place, a new feeling enters the world.  And then, for the millionth time in the history of feeling, the heart surges, and absorbs the impact.”

Everyone needs to read beautiful things.

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One Day

One day was filled with the white clouds the size of universes as we walked up (down) the hills.  One day was seawater, digging toes in sand and smooth stones, not knowing how to speak to you.  One day was the infinite day of jasmine, roses, and smiles in sunlight.  One day was colder than any other, when she finally realized, on the eve of her birthday, that her eyes and smile were the most dangerous weapons she had.  The amount of power in that realization nearly brought her to her knees, scared her so badly that she sought refuge in being alone.

One day was solitude by a pond with the midsummer prairie breeze tangling her hair, bench slats pressed hard against her back as she cried to the squirrel who sat nearby, looking confused. [humans are so strange]

One day was actually five days worth of looking into eyes across café tables (lunch tables/empty living room spaces/only 2 feet between us), trying to read soul sentences that blurred and skipped [“no one should be allowed to play the record of me like you did”, she thought, half in anger, half in joy].

One day she was the sweet child she once was, and the next she was standing tall in a pair of shoes that made her body look much too wonderful, and she hid behind her clumsy silliness and sharp remarks, and smiled her deadly smile and looked around with her deadly eyes and brought life and love back to 1/3 of the inhabitants of the room (the rest of them refused to meet her gaze).

One day was photographs on blank walls, captured stories in still frames.

One day was a woman in yellow galoshes as she deliberately stepped into a giant puddle, ripples moving out and she smiled as the water flowed around her.

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Nineteen Days

day six

Check out today’s posting…it took quite a bit of effort to get those pictures to the wonderful ladies at nineteen days, as I did not have internet access last night. I used Twitter at around 6 am to inform them that I was running late, and would send them soon!  After waking up for breakfast before dawn, I raced over to the local Kinko’s (in my pajamas) and tried to connect my laptop…no luck. So I put my memory card in the computers they had there, paid my $1.75 fee, and sent off the pictures and quotation. Whew!

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