Monday, March 21, 2011
I haven't figured out how to upload photos as I do not have Windows on my computer but Linux which is foolproof as to viruses......I sent a help message out to the computer center at the college and haven't had any "takers' for a paid tutorial job as yet.
I'm learning how to do origami with an enthusiastic senior teacher. The best part of the class was seeing an older gentleman finding an activity that he really loves, and loves to show others how to do it - from children on up.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
We had gorgeous landscape here in western Maine for the past two days - snow then rain - the trees and shrubs were coated with ice -- every vertical plant encased in ice. It was magical. And it lasted for two days! Three of the poets in my poetry group wrote about these incredible days....."what if you woke/to a world of glass tree...." the poem begins.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Solitude opens to us the wonder of the world without noise, a world without clutter, a world purged of the social whirl. At least, for awhile, at least long enough to immerse ourselves in the balm of simply being.
Conscious aging needs support....a presence, a witness, a listener.........
Monday, March 7, 2011
First of all, I don't believe we're here to be happy. It is the result of, the effect of. I believe we are here to live creative lives........A life of creativity is a life of risk. It is a life going beyond the ordinary, of embracing the odyssey, of leaving your familiar, of trying to make a commitment.
Reggio is, from what a read, a most committed man. His films, which I have not seen, confront in a poetic way injustice of the earth and thereby injustice of ourselves.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Another thing that old people often report is enjoying the simple pleasures of the day, and the pleasure of the seasons, of seeing spring again, or the snow. I've also noticed how enjoyable memories are. reviewing our lives can be a pleasure; it isn't just contrition and guilt and remorse and regret and so on. There's as strange pleasure in going back over things. And it isn't just that you go back over tham, but they come back to you. you can't believe it. Where did this come from? They aren't just memories, but scenes you can re-enter and rediscover things you once lived.
Many pleasures are lost in the medicalization of old age - most of all, the pleasures of the senses. You take pleasure in eating, or a good sleep. You can sit in a chair and enjoy it. But medicine has turned old age into an exercise program, a diet program a passion for dosages and prescriptions. This is not life, but a substitute, full of anxiety.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Cobalt blue,green,yellow ochre,
in a white paint box.
Like ephemeral snowflakes,
my people – friends and lovers
drift and melt
into the stream of time.
No holding onto the white and pink tulip blossoms,
no holding onto sweet yellow corn,
no holding onto the blazing sugar maple.
Now – in the snow storm
snowflakes fall, melt on my face,
bring surprising heat.
C.W. Trickett January 2011