Found on Pinterest on the board "beautiful nature" by Sarah Ulhaas
In the greenest of jungles I saw a plethora of feathered, furry, scaly creatures,
With rainbow coloured, poison spewing, gravity defying features.
Almost magical stunts I saw when walking the rainforest without a rush.
Secret superpowers of every animal hidden within the brush.
Thin rays of sun stream through dense, entangled canopies shining tiny spotlights.
I saw flower faces unfurling and shiny beetles hooked in fights.
From the sky it is endless emerald framed by deep blue seas that glisten.
I saw a sea of bark and leaves, waves stretched over a nation whose voice is heard if you only listen.
And looking closely I saw little patches in nature’s elaborate quilts.
Edges of barren palm trees where the forest vines slowly wilt.
There are little surprises beneath the sand, under trees of coconut.
I saw the growth of ‘progress’, which I fear is anything but.
The prompt was to write with anaphora, a repeated phrase, in this case the simple “I saw.” Whenever I think about the damage that has been done to rainforests and that is still occurring today, I feel so ashamed of the human race. It is so sad to think of the diversity and history that we have lost in order to harvest some more oil or lumber or whatever to fuel our money – based society. I do think the mentality that progress is making more money is what is causing the sustainability dilemnas we are finding ourselves in. Anyway, I won’t write more on this here, but possibly in the future.
Thanks for reading,
Time to take out the vacuum, she thought.
Exploded blobs of glittery glue and bits of coloured paper she had bought
For the young Picassos to squish together their masterpieces, everywhere.
Slumped on a mushroom stool, knees up to her chest, at the daycare.
Pulls out a snack, silently grumbling about the splattered table.
Wonders why she nor the parents are able
To teach these kids to be tidy and responsible. Where did they go wrong?
Chews the last bite, gets up,
brushes the cookie crumbs off her lap,
Onto the floor.
She walks to the cleaning closet door,
humming some kindergarten song.
Thinks agreeably of a late afternoon nap.
(Copyright Julian Andrews)
“Actions speak louder than words.” – Michel de Montaigne
A painter has a canvas, a musician, an instrument, an athlete, a ball or a puck, but a dancer? Dancers have their own bodies. Living, breathing art.
Dancers have nothing to hide behind, what they do is a pure expression of themselves – just people and their movements on a stage. Their work is fleeting, it passes through time and exists in the present – a dance cannot be captured fully, just as a portrait photograph is only a fragment of a breathing, human being. Dancers expose themselves to the world, placing their very identity in a most vulnerable position under the world’s eyes. And yet they are powerful, a celebration of human strength and artistry. Maybe that is why dance strikes a chord in nearly everyone, because there is such depth and sincerity in what can be expressed through the human body.
Ah, but with the pride of a dancer comes a challenge. A body changes, a person changes, and your work along with it. Every day a new balance must be found, muscle memory joggled, flexibility and stamina renewed. One day my pointe shoes are a size 4 1/2 the next day a 5. I can feel the backs of my legs engaging to solidify my ankle alignment, and in the future I may have trouble finding the same sensation. The body is very capable of adapting to situations dancers put them through, but sometimes it needs help in concentration and discipline to reach the perfection that all dancers envision in their dreams. It is a constant journey to discover the utmost potential of our bodies and the truest artists we can possibly be to ourselves. My ballet teacher taught me that. I feel very privileged to be a part of this art form for sharing the simplest joy of expressing myself through myself, as myself, in ways that words cannot explain.
“Dance is the hidden language of the soul.” -Martha Graham
Read, dance, and don’t forget to smile,
The wood was creaking, the door was squeaking, the roof was leaking. The wind was making the boards groan and the doors flail on its hinges helplessly, and rain dripped into sinking puddles on the marbled floor.
What better place to be in a storm than a church? Add the music of our voices and guitars and it was quite the mixed atmosphere at choir practice last night.
Just in time for Halloween, thanks to Hurricane Sandy. Hearing on the news of power outages and flooding – and Toronto was only experiencing a sliver of effects – reminds me of just how helpless humans are. Just think, the great bustling city of New York silenced by a single storm.
Human intelligence and sheer determination does not stand a chance against the sheer immense power of nature. These are forces beyond our imaginings that we can never hope to control. We can build cities defiantly on dangerous land, but if an earthquake or tsunami did occur, what choice do we really have? Escaping the fury would be the only option.
I fell asleep to the sight of our giant backyard pine tree violently swinging in the rainstorm, its branches thrashing from side to side. Scary, but inspiring. It looked so helpless, yet so resilient; its bending like a dance following the music of the wind. Maybe that is it, we should not separate ourselves from nature but accept our place in it, as a part of Earth’s bigger picture.
Events like this leave me so awe-struck and in great respect for the wonders of this planet. I do hope Hurricane Sandy is sparing, but let our fear be a reminder for future actions of humanity, that we do NOT want to mess with Mother Nature.
Good luck everyone,