Dear friends and newcomers,
Made especially for NotMyPresident’s Day.
There’s more of course.
Love and peace,
Dear friends and newcomers,
Made especially for NotMyPresident’s Day.
There’s more of course.
Love and peace,
Tell Me What Prayer You Say
Tell me what prayer you say
when you’ve been afraid, terrorized, misunderstood, forgotten, discarded.
What words do you use?
Do you have faith?
What prayer do you say when your body, mind, soul, life
have been trampled on, or assaulted?
What prayer do you say when you’re fighting for your life,
or the lives of others?
Is marching your prayer?
What songs do you sing when they’ve stolen everything,
Burnt or tortured or shot through you or near you?
After you’ve buried your family, fled, drowned, collapsed?
What is your prayer for the child alone at sea?
Which direction do you face?
East or west?
Where is your True north or south?
Is your head covered or exposed?
What prayer do you say when they have come for you,
labeled, sorted, and separated you,
detained you, stripped you, held you down, shackled you, enslaved you?
What is your prayer for the ones who are already dead, or for the dying?
What about Saying the Names or the markers or protecting the sacred grounds?
What about the wind and the sun?
What about the Earth?
What prayer do you say when your child wants to
live, but there’s not enough food, water, air, shelter, medicine?
The bombs and guns and bullets shatter everything in classrooms and
in all the broken places here or there.
Where is the clean air, the safe drinking water, the place for dreaming?
What prayer did you say when they took your father, mother, brother, sister, child, land, food, water, home, homeland?
Are you standing?
Do you pray at night?
Do tears roll into your pillow?
Do you have a pillow?
Are the stars your roof?
What prayer do you say when you’re kneeling,
leaning against a wall, stretching down on the rug,
sitting on a bench, or a branch?
Are you dancing in a field?
Do you light candles and drink wine?
Do you have bread?
Are there flowers? Feathers? Stones? Beads? Holy water?
When you stand on the mountain or in the valley or on the street corner
do you see a way forward?
Are we not, every single one of us here under the same sky?
Do you pray to go forward, or are you about surviving only this next minute?
Is it the same thing? Is standing still an option? Do you carry signs?
Is your prayer Resistance? Is your prayer Justice and Freedom for every single human, or just for some?
What prayer did you say when you were abandoned, lied to,
when you were disapproved of, given up on, turned away from, shut out,
stepped on, beaten down, shackled, locked in?
What prayer do you say if you’re not strong enough?
If you’re sick?
If you’re dying?
What prayer do you say for living?
For animals and bees, rivers and trees?
Is there a prayer for when you’ve lost hope?
Who hears that prayer?
What if you don’t believe in God or that anyone is listening, or anyone cares?
You are different, you are the same, and you’ve been hurt badly.
You’re holding on, broken inside, and your legs buckle.
You’re still grateful for your legs,
and the floor beneath you.
What prayer did you say? All those years
you’ve cried over the elephants, bears, seals, the coral reef,
the lost and stolen children, the tigers, the lions, the whale,
and you’ve done everything you could
And, it is never enough, and you tire of fighting to be seen, to be recognized,
for your birthright,
your human right; that you are born, and therefore, you exist,
a human, born for
Peace and Love, but denied it daily.
Until you’re buried, and even then the liars and bulldozers come.
You’ve cried over children and the ground, over hangings, over beatings,
Over evil in hoods or suits, they shape shift,
They bear unwanted gifts, stealing lives.
We cry together over lost dreams
and broken pipes, while poison flows, and the tears of millions fall.
Still: silence and violence. Still: Never Again.
But, it continues, over and over again, never stopping.
What are the words for that?
What picture do you paint?
What dance do you dance?
What music do you play or sing?
What funny story do you tell?
How do you pray when you don’t believe in prayer?
What is your prayer today?
When you need a miracle; that is: a hand up, a door opened, someone who sees you and doesn’t look away when you’re suffering.
What if your prayer isn’t heard today but you need it to be heard today?
Who has your back?
Who’s with you?
Who gets it?
When you’ve been hurt and you already despair and a man of the cloth
Says, go die, what prayer is there for that?
When you or someone you know has given up, and too many around you want you gone,
And all you want is air, water, to be free, to love.
When after waiting, after being crushed, after disappointment, after being silenced, after broken promises or treaties, after despair, and somehow you’re still standing,
and maybe you even know that you’ll never give up,
And you know exactly what you’re fighting for, but you still need help.
How do you help?
Did you ask what is needed?
Did you listen?
Is your prayer a hug, a bowl of rice, warm gloves?
When hope is gone, what is your prayer?
How do you pray for strength and to not give up?
Which part of you do you call on to get through the day? This hour?
Is your job not to save another?
Is every child and creature not a world of wonder?
Does your planet not spin? Does gravity not hold you here?
In your prayers,
Do you see light and the infinite colors?
Do you float? Rise? Chant?
Do you say: count me, too.
Have you saved yourself?
Have you saved another?
Tell me what prayer you say.
© Elana Halberstadt, January 27, 2017
It’s been almost a year since I’ve written here.
Been dealing with lots of health stuff, and so much has happened here and around the country and world. There’s been way too much collective grief, hurt, disappointment, anger, and harm done to children and innocents everywhere. Aleppo, Syria alone makes me question humanity, makes me wonder (again and again) if mercy is only for some and not all. It seems so.
All the pain in the world, in all the corners where lives were cut short, or were ruined, families torn apart, or obliterated. Like no one learns from history and our species
seems hell bent on self and planet destruction.
The many stars, artists, thinkers, humans who left us.
In the midst of this, and everyone’s individual private or public life battles, people go on and live. Remarkably, people continue working, laughing, making art, pushing forward. We all do what we have to do to get by, and there’s no way through it but through it. Which sucks a lot of the time. And this year has been difficult for many, and these are extraordinary times. Lots of WTF?! Seriously?! And now what?!
I don’t know about you, but I could do with a minimum three-month long hibernation right about now.
My hopes and wishes for the New Year include love and peace, clean water, fresh air, good food, safety, freedom, justice, more kindness, an end to cruelty of all kinds, for science and facts to (eventually, and before its entirely too late) win the day, and for the wildlife creatures and seas and skies to keep on and keep on while we each find our own ways to keep going, be with those we love, and resist and organize peacefully so we can work to get our democracy back for everyone.
It was only a matter of time before we started seeing increasing racist, bigoted, hateful and aggressive behavior and violence at Trump rallies as his hate speech has always seemed to me that he was inciting to violence. Comparisons to the rise of Hitler and Nazi Germany have been inevitable.
Last night, an escalation. Brave people in Chicago shut down a Trump rally. On display, exposed for all to see was racism and hatred but also a large number of protesters who put their bodies and lives on the line to oppose and protest Trump and everything he stands for.
At the beginning of March, a peaceful student from the University of Louisville, Shiya Nwanguma, was assaulted by a terrifying crowd filled with racist haters. It could have been a scene from long ago. I found this photo on Shaun King’s Facebook page; a side by side image that speaks volumes. On one side, a student walking through a crowd during attempts to integrate a school in Little Rock, AK, and on the right, an image from the Trump rally. As if time stood still.
You can read all about this here via Shaun King.
I was deeply disturbed watching the footage of this young women as she made her way through this crowd, pushed, poked, verbally and physically assaulted because of the color of her skin. I was so angry and sad, I couldn’t find the words. Instead, I sat down to draw and paint.
The man in the red hat is Matthew Heimbach who participated in the assault (you can see him quite clearly on camera). He’s a leader of the Traditionalist Worker Party and is a known white supremacist. The woman at the center is University of Louisville student, Shiya Nwanguma.
Trump has been quoted as saying, “Get them out of here.”
It is long past time to get him out of here.
This is my protest:
With love and peace,
There is too much going on to write about.
Does that make sense?
Is it a cop out? I don’t know.
I have this:
Last week we had another snowstorm here and there was a snow day. From the safe, warm inside the house, I took these first thing in the morning.
I thought of my grandmother, Luba (z”l), who had a gorgeous glass collection in her home by the sea.
I was four when she died way too young, and my memories of her are fuzzy, contained in pictures and in stories from others, but I remember her soft touch on my skin and her closet, dressing up, and being happy with her; the way she brushed my hair. I remember that the bottles and glass pieces were lined up on little shelves built into the window that looked out on the little bay. I could never possibly recreate that, such a dream spot, peaceful, with the water always there, the grasses waving and shells I gathered. The pink rose bushes and monarch butterflies and the paved walk way and that breeze coming off the water on a warm day.
I have spent my life trying to capture color in my own bottles, hanging things, in art, in scarves and clothing and shoes. In the light. Always searching for and finding color and marveling at the way the light hits glass, even in a snowstorm, even when it is cold, even when all is swirling, such as snow or wars outside, or ideas in my head, or good or bad things that happen. And how one responds–to the good or the bad.
I choose color and sometimes black and white. Always, always, searching for the way the light hits. Waiting for the sparkle and shine. Letting tears fall and then laughing.
Much love & peace,
Solidarity, sympathy, horror, and outrage
at the terror attack on Charlie Hebdo’s office
and staff in Paris, France today.
Love, respect, and light to all suffering.
For democracy, free speech, satire, art in all forms, artists, cartoonists, writers, editors, journalists, truth seekers — the pen and brush and marker and paint and paper and colors and creativity and souls and hearts and imaginations silenced today must be remembered and carried on.
With love and profound sadness,
Update at 3:36pm: from Buzzfeed –adding this round up of artists/cartoonists responses:
and link below:
I made this drawing after the horrifying and maddening news of Michael Brown’s death by police shooting in Ferguson, MO.
Here are a few articles and videos that have caught my eye since:
On the connection to climate movement by Deirdre Smith via Common Dreams.org
From Last Week Tonight’s John Oliver
And some satire, too -How we’d cover Ferguson if it happened in another country- by Max Fisher at Vox
Love and peace,
After what feels like months of crying over so many things, the news yesterday of Robin William’s death hit me hard. Like so many others, I wish I could stay home and hide under the covers. It’s hard to get up and go out and be in the world.
I wrote this last night as my Facebook status–it is all that I can manage for now.
“Can hardly even write through tears at learning of the loss of this deeply talented man. He made me laugh out loud and he made me cry and I loved him from the Mork & Mindy days, and beyond. So sad to lose a great artist who brought joy, love, and laughter to our world which is in desperate need of joy, love, and laughter. Robin Williams was truly one of a kind.
Thank goodness he shared his tremendous gifts with us for as long as he could. Carpe diem.”
I made this quick sketch this morning because I woke up with eyelashes that stuck together because I cried myself to sleep and I had to force my eyes open, and wash away dried tears, and this was all I could do.
I made this before going out into the world, which is harsh, but also beautiful, in which no one is safe, really, no one is, from heartache and sadness. And many of us (is it all of us?) fight that feeling, to hide under covers, to stay home, to give up.
Please don’t give up today. Please seize this day, even while crying and sad. Please be kind to your self and others. If you need help, please reach for it. There is always a need for more hugs and understanding. There is always a need for more love, joy, and laughter.