“I’ve dreampt in my life that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.” —-Emily Bronte

There are many things which are not explained in childhood. In a sense we are all artists sculpting the shape of our lives. We improvise, we grow like a garden full of flowers, we search till we find what is beautiful to us, We look for words that convey important concepts to us. In addition, as women we have to coordinate all of this with the various cycles of our gender. Puberty, falling in love, pregnancy, relationships, child rearing, a career all impact the composition of our lives. You consider that without instruction we go into life without a map. Some of us have plans, certain plans and then life often requires a sudden revision. It is back to the easel to pull out a new canvas, add some music for the soundtrack and you can begin again to create, design and compose your life. Over and over, as many times as we need to, those who embrace life to the fullest will always find a way to leave a brilliantly designed tapestry with a soundtrack to accompany it that would leave John Williams with his mouth hanging open.

A life well composed will always be the journey and steps we take to embrace the fullness of this tremendous gift we have been given. The trick is to show gratitude for this gift by using every single moment to sculpt the very best representation of who we really are.

I am new to blogging and I travel often so will not be able to blog every day. However, I am I going to introduce myself. I am a marching, picketing feminist who loves people. I am a photographer and artist. I have worked in Domestic Violence (DV), nursing, and the American Red Cross (AMC). I have been a make-up artist and selling specialist for major American designers. I am retired, a widow with 4 children and 9 grandchildren. I am interested in politics which effect women and children. I love poetry, books and reading.

This is by Walt Whitman, who described himself as a “barbaric yawp”.
I can not be silent. Thanks for listening.

I Sit and Look Out

“I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame.
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done.
I see in low life the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate.
I see the wife misused by her husband, I see the treacherous seducer of young women,
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love attempted to be hid, I see these sights on the earth,
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny, I see martyrs and prisoners,
I observe a famine at sea, I observe the sailors casting lots who shall be kill’d to preserve the lives of the rest,
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon laborers, the poor, and upon the negroes, and the like;
All these-all the meanness and agony without end I sitting look out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.”

Welcome to WordPress.com! This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.

Happy blogging!