vermont views magazine

Home page

“Quality of Life, Spirit of Place”

 

Vermont Views Magazine

Home Page

New Features, Articles & Columns


Urban Naturalist

A Slow Day at Hogle Sanctuary is Salvaged by a Furry Visitor's Aquatic Star Turn

Lloyd Graf


Monkey’s Cloak

You cancelled your vacation

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Thay

Elizabeth Hill


Meanderings

Light footprints

Charles Monette


An A-musing Life

A Remembrance of Yom Kippur Angels and the Dancing Rabbi

Nanci Bern


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Bread and Circuses 

Jeri Rose


The First Glass

DEMOLITION

Vincent Panella


Urban Naturalist

Nighthawks

Lloyd Graf


SCREENplay

Wind River

Lawrence Klepp


Old Lady Blog

A Cross By The Sea

Toni Ortner


Love In Action

A Man Named Shin

Elizabeth Hill


Guest Article

Highland Fling

A series of articles, part 3

Tyndrum

Alan Rayner


Meanderings

Full Circle Meander

Charles Monette


Selected Letters

A Rational Solution to our Dilemma in Afghanistan.

Offie Wortham


An A-musing Life

Charlottesville

The Heart of the Serpent

Nanci Bern


Monkey’s Cloak

Malvern Hill

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

Dunkirk

Lawrence Klepp


Open Mind

So Who Came

To Your Funeral?

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

Cicero’s Hands

Mike Murray


Open Mind

2030 — a short story

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

How To Fold A Presby Cap

Elizabeth Hill


Meanderings

A July summer’s midday morn

Charles Monette


in between

Reflection

Julia Ferarri


An A-musing Life

The Art of Flight

Nanci Bern


Vermont Diary

For The Birds


Special Feature

Malory Lake 1950-2017

An appreciation


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Jumping Through Time

in My Life

Jeri Rose


Love In Action

Baby Buddha

Elizabeth Hill


Open Mind

A Transcultural Awareness Experience

Offie Wortham


Old Lady Blog

A Blackbird with Snow Covered Red Hills 1946

for Georgia O’Keefe

Toni Ortner


Monkey’s Cloak

overflowingly so

Charles Monette


The First Glass

John Dante’s Inferno,

A Playboy’s Life -

by Anthony Valerio

Vincent Panella


Love In Action

From the Hands

of Our Fathers

Elizabeth Hill


As I Please

The Black Place II 1944

Georgia O’Keefe

Toni Ortner


SCREENplay

Their Finest

Lawrence Klepp


As I Please

The Langlois Bridge at Arles, 1888

Charles Monette


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Rights and privileges 

Jeri Rose


Open Mind

Does Lifestyle Matter more than Race?

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

Robin in the rain

Elizabeth Hill


As I Please

Bansky

Robert Oeser


The First Glass

Luck

Vincent Panella


Vermont Diary

Change of Season


Selected Letters

Immigrants in Vermont

Philip B. Scott, Governor


Old Lady Blog

The language I speak

is a language of grief

Toni Ortner


As I Please

Homage to Milton Avery

Elizabeth Hill


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Tarnished Gold

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Other voices

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

Elle

Lawrence Klepp


An A-musing Life

The Great Exodus-Salamanders and Passover Crossings

Nanci Bern


An A-musing Life

One Sip at a Time

Nanci Bern


Love In Action

This Land

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

The British Aren’t Coming — Alas


Open Mind

But The Goalposts Keep Moving!

Offie Wortham


Meanderings

‘Beware the ides of March’

Charles Monette


Write On!

Grey Tower

Phil Innes


The First Glass

Writing like a Painter

Vincent Panella


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Racism vs Sexism

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Ice floes slow

Charles Monette


Urban Naturalist

The Sanctuary in Late Winter:

a Long-Deferred Visit to Hogle Offers Rewards and Raises Concerns

— part 2 —

Lloyd Graf


Love In Action

Mein Yertle

Elizabeth Hill


SCREENplay

Lion

Lawrence Klepp


Urban Naturalist

The Sanctuary in Late Winter:

a Long-Deferred Visit to Hogle Offers Rewards and Raises Concerns

— part 1 —

Lloyd Graf


100 Years Ago

Births Jan-Jun 1917


With Prejudice

With Prejudice — 4 topics

Elizabeth Hill


O Citoyen!

Four Pennies

Robert Oeser


With Prejudice

Flesh of My Flesh:  Reflections on Prejudice & Love

Shanta Lee Gander


With Prejudice

Finding America

Vincent Panella


Story Page

Matinicus The Marvelous Cat

MM Kizi


Meanderings

White as Snow

Charles Monette


Love In Action

People Power in Pink

Elizabeth Hill


Open Mind

Populism

Offie Wortham


Meanderings

White Buffalo in the Sky

Charles Monette


Monkey’s Cloak

Venus Smiled

Charles Monette


An A-musing Life

A resolute spirit

Nanci Bern


StudioTWO

The Owens


The First Glass

For the Birds

Vincent Panella


Chess

“The Mating Game”

Phil Innes


Overheard

Literacy

part 1, the USA


Love In Action

New Year’s Reflections on

“Charlotte’s Web”

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Spiritual Theft in the

Year of the Monkey


SCREENplay

Manchester by the Sea

Lawrence Klepp


Meanderings

White Mountain

Charles Monette


The First Glass

San Diego, Ocean Beach – November 17, 2016

Vincent Panella


SCREENplay

Allied

Lawrence Klepp


Monkey’s Cloak

Oh, Holidays

Nanci Bern


Old Lady Blog

Gone/ All Gone

Toni Ortner


An A-musing Life

Mushroom Soup with John

Nanci Bern


in between

FEAR

Julia Ferarri


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Racism vs Sexism

Jeri Rose


Meanderings

Last leaves leaving

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Braveheart

Elizabeth Hill


Urban Naturalist

Hogle in Fall:

a Subdued Sanctuary Hunkers Down for Winter

Lloyd Graf


Vermont Diary

Quality of Life


An A-musing Life

11/12 and Counting

Nanci Bern


World & US Energy News

Nov 15 Just one day in the energy life of the planet

George Harvey


Meanderings

As if

Charles Monette


Open Mind

What Will Become Of The Trump Faithful?

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

Clouds

Charles Monette


Write On!

Castle Dor


Vermont Diary

Words or Deeds


SCREENplay

Sully

Lawrence Klepp


Love In Action

Living in the Twilight Zone

Elizabeth Hill


100 Years Ago

Births

in 1916


Chess

Susan Polgar:

Little Known Feminist Icon

Alicia Colon


Natural Inclusivity

What is ‘Natural’ Science?

Alan Rayner


Meanderings

Evil frog monsters

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

The Girl on the Train

Lawrence Klepp


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Who Sleeps Daily in S.C.?

&

S.C. City Council

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Why just now

Charles Monette


in between

After a Fire Puja

Julia Ferarri


Vermont Diary

Out of the closet


Old Lady Blog

LESBOS, GREECE

Toni Ortner


The First Glass

Journal Entry –

October 3, 2016

Vincent Panella


Meanderings

Another way up

Black Mountain

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

The Light Between Oceans

Lawrence Klepp


Love In Action

Déjà Vu at Asteroid Chasm

Elizabeth Hill


SCREENplay

Café Society

Lawrence Klepp


An A-musing Life

A Snow Bunny in Summer

Nanci Bern


Meanderings

The mountain was soft

Charles Monette


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Malaise

Jeri Rose


Meanderings

Black Mountain

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Out of time


The First Glass

Who Art In : Moment : Youth

Vincent Panella


Urban Naturalist

THE HOGLE PANORAMA

Lloyd Graf


Love In Action

The Pony Man

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Lots of words to it


Monkey’s Cloak

Beyond the pale

Charles Monette


Monkey’s Cloak

North York Moods

A series of observations and poems by Alan Rayner, part 7

‘Bridestones’


Love In Action

“The Missionary of Water”

Dr. Masaru Emoto

Elizabeth Hill


Selected Letters

Marbles

Offie Wortham


Old Lady Blog

from a forthcoming work...

Toni Ortner


in between

A QUIET RAIN FALLS

Julia Ferarri


Open Mind

The power of “Instant” News in producing stress and anxiety

Offie Wortham


An A-musing Life

Frost in the Summer

Nanci Bern


Vermont Diary

Birthday boy


Love In Action

Neptune and Jupiter

Elizabeth Hill


Monkey’s Cloak

North York Moods

A series of poems

by Alan Rayner, part 5

Howard’s Castle


Selected Letters

In Memoriam

Dorothy M. Rice, 1919 - 2016


Open Mind

Malcolm and Ali

Offie Wortham


Vermont Diary

SHOCK of the Present


Open Mind

Can we bite the bullet until after November?

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

SHAVUOT

Nanci Bern


Monkey’s Cloak

five directions, five fingers, five roots

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

US Politics for Forns from Yurp [part deux]


Monkey’s Cloak

UP NORTH

Phil Innes


Write On!

Women of the Mounds

Charles Monette


Open Mind

Colleges where your child can earn a Degree for Free

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

SEND IN THE CLOWNS

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Ticks and Tourism


World & US Energy News

Just one day’s news

in early May

George Harvey


Old Lady Blog

Lights out or the weather of the apocalypse

Toni Ortner


Write On!

Daniel Berrigan

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Over the Mountain


Love In Action

The First Lady of the World

Elizabeth Hill


Monkey’s Cloak

May I

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Is the experiment with republics now over?


Post Oil Solutions

Tipping Point

Tim Stevenson


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

“How Drumpf wins”

Jeri Rose


Vermont Diary

WEIRD WYOMING — A LETTER TO ENGLAND


OVERHEARD

O say can you see...

A test severe of on-line language translators


Vermont Diary

QUINTISH


Love In Action

THE DANCING FOOLS

Elizabeth Hill


REAL FOOD !

Parsnip Soup


Vermont Diary

PC, Euphemisms, including death and toilets


Urban Naturalist

AMPHIBIANS AND OTHER CRITTERS COPE WITH EQUINOCTAL CONFUSION

Lloyd Graf


Selected Letters

Tennessee Tensions

Rob Mitchell


Vermont Diary

Couple pointers

for President Trump


Old Lady Blog

Call from a Scientologist friend

Toni Ortner


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

The Hinge of Perception

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Bird of transcendence

Matti Salminen


Vermont Diary

FLIGHT PATH OPTIONS


Monkey’s Cloak

Tibetan dream song

Charles Monette


in between

One hundred and twenty six years

Julia Ferarri


CURIOUS TOPICS

Gull Summit — Prime Minister concerned over Hitchcockian behavior


View From A Bridge

Golgonooza

Brian D. Cohen


Love In Action

SUMMER, 1947

Elizabeth Hill


Weekly Feature

In conversation with

Archer Mayor


Overheard

“REVENANT”

Which turns out to be very old


Overheard

Honkie Dilemma

A quiz


100 Years Ago

Major Literary Events


Monkey’s Cloak

Einstein’s Eyes

Charles Monette


Chess

The Silence of the Pawns

Paul Truong


100 Years Ago

A chronological overview of the year 1916


Natural Inclusivity

A new understanding of the evolutionary kinship of all life on Earth.

Alan Rayner


Vermont Diary

Featuring the numbers 7, 40, 911, 12, respectively


Write On!

Faery Stories 6,000 years old


World & US Energy News

Just one day’s news

in early February

George Harvey


Vermont Diary

Paint, peeling; plus more news of White Men


Monkey’s Cloak

Momentarily

Charles Monette


Love In Action

HOME

Elizabeth Hill


Urban Naturalist

Season of the Fox [part 3 of 3]

Lloyd Graf


in between

“There comes a moment in life when the dead outnumber the living.”

Julia Ferarri


CURIOUS TOPICS

No screaming — we are the police!


Open Mind

“Who would Dr. King support in 2016?”

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

Entering a moonlit forest

Charles Monette


Chess

Saudi’s, Satan and so on


Vermont Diary

The British Aren’t Coming


World & US Energy News

Just one days news in the life of the planet

George Harvey


CURIOUS TOPICS

We shouldn’t laugh


Selected Letters

Robert Oeser with Fire Chief Mike Bucossi


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Attempts at Transport

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

What Do We Want?

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Awoke in the starless hour

Charles Monette


CURIOUS TOPICS

All washed up — Global trash


Monkey’s Cloak

Okay, we’ve looked there

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Reflections on Grandpa Ross Turning The House

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

A strange accounting


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Inklings of Immortality

Jeri Rose


Curious Topics

Raining Cats and Dogs

& Jack the Psycho Rabbit


Vermont Diary

Come to think of it


Vermont Diary

Notes from underground


An A-musing Life

The Hebrew Month of Kislev and Chanukah

Nanci Bern


Old Lady Blog

Omyra Sanchez

Toni Ortner


REAL FOOD !

Secret History of the Pasty


Monkey’s Cloak

Looking back dark

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Dear England, Please Send Me A Redheaded Boy

Elizabeth Hill


Write On!

Castle Freeman, Jr. 

The Devil in the Valley.

A review by Laura C. Stevenson


Vermont Diary

Hunger’s Ground-Zero

in Our Town


Monkey’s Cloak

The Back-up Bird

Charles Monette


Guest Article

The Angels of Reinca

A Compleat Graphic Novel Story

M.M. Kizi


Chess

Madonna vs. Julia Roberts

and other matches


Vermont Diary

On Aggression


Write On!

Singing with Bobby Fischer

Patti Smith


Urban Naturalist

Introducing...

Lloyd Graf


Selected Letters

Qi Gong on Black Mountain

Ken Masters


Old Lady Blog

Strike out

Toni Ortner


Love in Action

“All is Very, Very Well.” ~Eileen Caddy

Elizabeth Hill


An A-musing Life

Draped in Time

Nanci Bern


Open Mind

The New Israel

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

Boy With Many Hats

Elizabeth Hill


OVERHEARD

Have no truck with


An A-musing Life

A Penne for your thoughts

Nanci Bern


Vermont Diary

Something wonderful just happened


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

The Incense of magic

Jeri Rose


Chess

Review of The Immortal Game: A history of chess

Lawrence Klepp


in between

Developing trust

Julia Ferarri


Love In Action

The Language of Form

Elizabeth Hill


Studio3

Strolling with Bernie

Photographic Essay





Vermont Views Magazine


A unique community supported cultural magazine exploring Quality of Life and Spirit of Place in our bio-region, with extraordinary photographs, 22 regular columnists plus feature articles, galleries & essays, new articles and photos every day. 100s more articles in the Archive.






Contact the magazine HERE


Major Sponsors


Vermont Artisan Designs

Brattleboro Food Coop

Delectable Mountain Cloth

Emerson’s Furniture

Friends of the Sun

Zephyr Designs

Neil Taylor

"The Blind Masseur"

 

In Passing

publisher’s notes

on current contributions

with extracts





Lloyd Graf

A Slow Day at Hogle Sanctuary is Salvaged by a Furry Visitor's Aquatic Star Turn

Urban Naturalist





Finding myself  a short mile from Hogle Wildlife Sanctuary with a half-hour to spare at high noon on an intensely sunny Saturday October 14, I made the short hop over to  the Sanctuary's Eaton Ave entrance.  It was a day for chipmunks to make their presence known -  they escorted me to my parking place, scurrying across the street in front of me every 50 feet or so, tails hiked up above their tiny bodies, then scolded me from the trees along the trail down to the water level.   A couple of chipmunk burrows that appeared near the step-like “risers” of the path itself in late September and have sometimes shown signs of being beaten down by the human foot traffic, displayed freshly cleared entrances.  


As I reached the boardwalk's end where views encompass a 270 degree expanse of island-studded river and pond water, islands, and a backdrop of postcard-worthy scenery, I was beginning to be thankful that at least the chipmunks were up and running.  Aside from a few chickadee-sized tail-flipping brown birds bouncing around in the underbrush, a small flotilla of Mallards and the ever-present Canada Geese working the shallows around islands, the Sanctuary's animal contingent appeared to be taking the day (or the season) off.  


The endlessly blue skies were as free of soaring birds as they were of clouds, and devoid of the usually reliable blackbirds and grackles (the swallows, swifts, waxwings, catbirds, goldfinches, flycatchers, hummingbirds and trail-side robins having been absent for weeks).  No herons or egrets were visibly stalking or standing locked in mime-like immobility in search of fish, no Belted Kingfishers were seen or heard, the Sanctuary's Bald Eagle(s), occasionally visible in off-shore stands of trees, were not in evidence.  There was nary a trace of the vulture flock(s), of which I have been quixotically fond ever since they lured me to the Sanctuary area in the first place.  Small fish, which had been manically breaching and skipping around like stones in the open water only 3 days previously,  had evidently retreated to the “depths”.   The mosquitoes and gnats were also pleasingly sparse, a trade-off that eased my sense of the Sanctuary's austerity only slightly.


Read the entire article >>>>



Charles Monette

You cancelled your vacation

Monkey’s Cloak




you cancelled your vacation, said it was a waste of time

you didn’t ask me to come along, so I didn’t cancel mine

said you’d rather go to the carbon conference

though a governor on your pedal slowed deliverance


a pick-up artist curing smelly compost on the curb

you lost your drive, now drive less… unperturbed

two times a week buys pricey green organic groceries

take a bean, walk a block… second hand store sells ivories


recycle that glass… that plastic… redeem it like never before

hey reuse it, refuse it, metamorphose into a see-through door

all that garbage… all that trash… all that shit galore

soon be floating… polluting… Cousteau’s ocean floor


take your time, saunter slinky as you walk away

look back once, close your eyes as if to say

a shake, a shrug, a pissed off tattoo demeanor

should’ve fought to hold you, found two words, ‘I love Lena’


out of this world, you were trippin out my world

neither differences genteel, non commutable…nor easily unfurled

Cape bikin, Maine coast traipsin,… old friends lyin on a windswept beach

hot sands’ blain, hidin out in Cockaigne… never within reach


dancing-dizzy, spinning, whirli-gigging love’s confusion

falsetto-falling, famished on brink’s recision

white flag surrender comes to you wide-open

as in a gray love story filmed by Bergman


Read On >>




Elizabeth Hill

Thay

Love In Action





When you begin to see that your enemy is suffering, that is the beginning of insight.

~ Thich Nhat Hanh


Years ago during some very dark days in my life, I discovered the writings of Thich Nhat Hanh, known affectionately to his students as Thay, which in Vietnamese means Teacher. For me, his words were life changing and life saving.


Fast forward to last week—I watched Ken Burns’ documentary on the long and complex history of the war in Vietnam. This enormously moving and insightful film not only took me back to the chaos, heartbreak, and peace movements of the sixties, but also highlighted how similar present events are to that time.


Fear and its offspring—Bigotry, Hatred, Inequality, Injustice, and Violence—continue to threaten our society daily. To make matters worse, monstrous storms and other weather-related events have devastated people’s lives here in America as well as many corners of the world.


I don’t think I’m alone in feeling as if I’m living in a hologram—pumped up on steroids! I have to work hard just to stay grounded and optimistic because everything seems askew in this atmosphere where lies look like truths, and truths get lost in lies.


Read the complete article



Charles Monette

Light footprints

Meanderings




As you enter the trailhead on the east side of Black Mountain, there’s a sign that says, Mountain closed from 7:30pm till 7:30am. Fair enough.  I imagine the Nature Conservancy doesn’t want campers spoiling the pristine, or huddling around campfires with possibly catastrophic results.  Why, even Thoreau once set the woods on fire!


It was that cool sunny morning before the hot weekend.  The day of the Autumnal Equinox.  Equinox… equal night.  No one in sight.  I was prepared to expect wonders.  Shortly there in, I noticed a westerly curved path out to field with tips of green grass glowing through overspread fallen leaves... a last glimmer here!  To my left, sun’s bright light shone through shadows illuminating a lone white birch.  Its white-skinned bark was wrapped tight around… straight-lining up to sky.  A choir of silver birches arced above and behind in solemn accompaniment.


Leaves were falling at a leisurely rate like snowflakes before a coming storm.  As I was jotting some notes, a dead leaf landed gently on my forearm.  Amusing, that had never happened to me.  I let it rest, looked at it, felt its texture, then brushed it to the forest floor.  Silence would be my teacher this fine day…


thinking change without

change within

honoring connection

sun in balance

crossing earth’s celestial equator

rising due east, setting due west

the nature of truth, the truth of nature…



ecocidal evil… Monsanto… Agent Orange.  I remembered walking through defoliated jungle for two weeks 46 years ago in South Vietnam, somewhere northwest of Xuan Loc.  Flying high ‘midst the apex of the canopy… descending noir over all you see… secret Agent Orange smothering synthesis with its pallid cloak. The once lush green jungle burnt to an ashen crisp… sinister, surreal… aluminum soap jellies dripping like thousands of white plastic picnic forks ignited by thousands of flames.  Flames gone out now just the plastic dripping… Charon’s ferries nearby…



Read on >



Nanci Bern

A Remembrance of Yom Kippur Angels and the Dancing Rabbi

An A-musing Life



                  

It was Yom Kippur-the Day of Atonement-and I was on my way to the first worship of the holiday-Kol Nidre services. Jewish holidays begin and end at sundown. I was walking down West End Avenue off Broadway in New York City. The sun was beginning to set and shadows were convening over the buildings.

I saw the usual suspects outside the shul talking in clusters on the sidewalk. The impending holiness of this time was beginning to grace and come toward us. It made everything a little more illuminated with a layer of shine so that every color, every texture became more vibrant.


While this is a deeply thoughtful service, there is another side to Kol Nidre that is often overlooked. This is the side that always speaks to me.  And now it does even more because of what happened this particular Kol Nidre night.


The High Holidays are an ingathering of the congregation. Many people do not attend on a regular basis, but the Jewish New Year services of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur draws us all together. I was a regular service goer and involved with various activates at my shul, so this service was a chance to see just how many people could fit into our small sanctuary. It always seemed to expand, as if by magic, to accommodate and make room for every soul who entered.


This service is when we begin the journey of the day of repentance. We pray that we will be engraved in the ever popular Book of Life. The Kol Nidre prayer service is the gate that opens Yom Kippur. It is only recited on this night.


It is written that an angel stands in front of you during the Kol Nidre recitation. The prayer is about asking to be relieved of any vows that we made during the past year that we did not honor, and to be relieved of the vows we are about to make that we also may fall short on. This act of putting yourself before your Creator is a daunting and deep act of faith.


Read on >>>>



Jeri Rose

Bread and Circuses 

Archetypal Hippie Speaks





Do you recall the Mary Tyler Moore show? At the beginning, she is shopping for food and she picks up a piece of meat on one of those styrofoam rectangles wrapped in plastic. She looks at it and kind of gives it a shake with her hand and throws it into her shopping cart while her face takes on an expression conveying disgust and boredom. NOTHING so exhibits the problem of our society for me as that depiction of our relation to sustenance in our lives.


There are people who are dying for the food that cow ate before becoming a dead piece of meat. There are people who can not even imagine the luxury of food available and delivered as presented. The styrofoam is bad for the planet, but we use it, ignoring the consequences.


A friend saw a mound of things on the sidewalk that were left by an eviction. There was a notebook...and in it written in a child's hand was a poem:


We have food today

O boy!

We have food today!


I do not think we have to be that hungry to be excited and happy to have food. I know that health and rich in nutrients food are in a perfect relationship of joy and appetite.


I do think we can take action to alleviate the misery of hunger in our country when we are people who are healthy in mind and heart and body. I am sure that there is a correlation between ourselves and those whom we may not know, but who, with a little extension, we can know and help.


Read on >>>>



Vincent Pinella

DEMOLITION

The First Glass




            Primo Levi’s Moments of Reprieve is a story collection based on his one-year stay in Auschwitz. The stories follow his other writings about the experience, and for those those who don’t know, Levi was an Italian Jew and trained chemist. In 1943 he joined a group of partisans in the Italian mountains and was captured and sent to Auschwitz to work at a factory camp. He used his bread rations to pay another prisoner for German lessons, and with his knowledge of the language and his background as a chemist he was assigned to a factory producing synthetic rubber for Hitler’s armies. He survived by avoiding hard labor and trading stolen materials from the factory for extra food. Auschwitz was liberated by the Russians in 1945 while Levi lay in the camp hospital with scarlet fever. The SS evacuated the camp as the Red Army approached, forcing all but the gravely ill on a long death march. Levi's illness spared him this fate.


            It would be another ten months in refugee camps before Levi returned to Italy. In later writings he noted the millions of displaced people on the roads and trains throughout Europe in that period. After his experience he wrote several books, novels, collections of short stories, essays, and poems. His best-known work is Survival in Auschwitz, an account of his year in the death camp and rightfully called a work of genius. 


            Moments of Reprieve is a collection of stories, vignettes, and character sketches, a tribute to moments when man’s better angels confront living hell. Levi’s characters are based on real people, some appearing in his other works, and some fictionalized from memory. He published the stories in 1981 after thinking he was finished writing about his experience, but the memories of people and their survival strategies  - not always successful -  compelled him to honor their lives. The characters whose stories demanded to be told were eventually given what Levi called “the ambiguous perennial existence of literary characters.” 


            With the logic of a scientist and the inspiration of an artist Levi sets his stories and characters against a background of horror. Hunger, beatings, and death are part of daily life. In these tales of survival a man sings few lines of opera to lighten a situation, the gift of a turnip is monumental, a half-slice of bread can be leveraged for favors.


Read on >>>>



Lawrence Klepp

Wind River

SCREENplay




Wind River is a good suspense movie pervaded by an elegiac mood and an unforgiving landscape, the wintry, mountainous landscape of the Wind River Indian Reservation in Wyoming. The suspense starts right away, with a dark-haired teenage girl (Kelsey Asbille) seen running barefoot through the snow at night, clearly running for her life, but who or what she’s running from isn’t shown.


Cory Lambert (Jeremy Renner), a solidly built, laconic man whose family has been in Wyoming for generations, works for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and is first seen carefully aiming his rifle and picking off a wolf as a pack approaches a flock of sheep he’s protecting. All the equations are pretty stark out here, and soon he has a more dangerous kind of predator to go after. As he’s out on his rounds in a snowmobile, he finds the body of the girl, frozen, in the snow.


She’s Natalie, the daughter of his Native American friend Martin (Gil Birmingham), and he visits him to break the news. Stoic at first, Martin finally breaks down. Cory can understand. He was married to a Native American woman, and they lost their own daughter under somewhat similar circumstances a few years ago—she was found dead in the snow after a party that took place while he and his wife were away. It broke the marriage. We see him visiting his ex-wife, Wilma (Julia Jones), polite but distant, to pick up their young son and take him out for some lessons in handling horses. Martin, however, lacks even that consolation. His only other child, a son, seemed to have some promise but has moved in with some local troublemakers who are in and out of jail.


Read on>>>>



Toni Ortner

A Cross By The Sea

Old Lady Blog




Here is an excerpt from Toni Ortner’s MSS for a book on Georgia O’Keefe.

        


It has always been there

arms outstretched.

                                    It could be another country or this.

There is no sign of a ship.

A gray day neither morning nor afternoon.

                                    It could be any season.

A high wind whips the waves into whitecaps.

                                   It could be today or yesterday.


Read on >>>>



Offie Wortham

A Rational Solution to our Dilemma in Afghanistan.

Selected Letters




“Waist deep in the big muddy, and the big fool said to push on.” Does this remind you of anyone in particular? It’s the chorus of a song Pete Seeger wrote in 1967. The song was considered symbolic of the Vietnam War and President Johnson’s irrational policy of escalation, which was widely seen as pushing the country, and the world, deeper into a losing war.


Is our president really getting ready to make the same mistakes this country made in Vietnam? If it is widely accepted that this war will never be won by the United States on the battlefield, why are we getting ready to sacrifice hundreds, if not thousands of American troops in a losing battle? Not to mention the countless numbers of civilians who will be crippled and killed by our hundreds of mindless drones guided by an individual from a cornfield in Kansas.


The United States should begin a massive worldwide refugee resettlement program for Afghan citizens who want to leave the country, now, before it is taken over again by the Taliban. Arrangements should begin with any country that is willing to take in a specific number of refugees. The United Nations should coordinate this effort, and the US and other developed nations could be responsible for transportation, food and supplies.


Vietnam was a shameful time in our nation’s history, and the weekly body count of Americans being killed in the war was the major factor in turning people against the war, even more so than the massive anti-war demonstrations. It took eight more years, after the publication of “Waist Deep In The Big Muddy,” and hundreds of thousands of people on both sides killed, before the United States was forced to admit defeat in April of 1975 when the last two American soldiers died in a tragic helicopter crash trying to escape.


Such a resettlement program will save billions of dollars for the United States, and save thousands of lives. If the Taliban is destined to take over the country, why should we continue to attempt to “sweep back the tide?”  


Offie C. Wortham, PhD

125 Vermont RT 100C


Read on >>>>



Offie Wortham

    So Who Came To Your Funeral?

Open Mind




I went to a really great funeral last week. Everybody in the family seemed to be there. It was in sharp contrast to one I had attended less than a year ago. This recent funeral was for an uncle. The previous one had been for a first cousin.


At the large church funeral for my uncle, there had been a genuine sense of loss expressed by hundreds of people, relatives and old friends. At the funeral for my cousin (at the funeral parlor) fewer than 10 people came to pay their final respects.


Same family, quite different funerals. "Why ... ",I asked myself, " ... do so many people feel moved at the passing of one person, but are totally disinterested in the death of another?" How do we decide if we will attend a wake or a funeral? What kind of a life must a person have lived to actually move people away from their busy schedules for a day, or even an evening?


The uncle was a very quiet, gentle, and giving man, who had lived in the same small town in the same house, with the same wife - for almost 50 years! The cousin, who had spent many happy summers with the uncle and his family, was raised only 20 miles away in the center of Harlem, the infamous ghetto in New York City. He became a high school drop-out, an alcoholic, a drug addict, and, finally, a convicted criminal. (It was well known that he had actually spent time in prison; something unheard of in this very middle-class family.) He was one of the few "Black Sheep" in the family, and was actually quite an embarrassment to many of his relatives.


He was not "successful". He did not live in a very nice neighborhood. He had never had a steady job, and he had no education to speak of, and he was supposed to have had a number of children all over the place from various women he had lived with.


As we get older, we tend to get more realistic about the transitory nature of our own existence. We are no more equal at death, than we are at birth. "Who ... "I found myself asking" ...would come to my funeral?" As my relatives and former friends pass judgment on my life, how many will take the time or energy to even pick up the phone, or send a card, much less actually attend my wake or funeral?


Read on >



Julia Ferrari

REFLECTION

in between



 

This week I had a dream in which I encountered several mirrors. This led me to contemplate the meaning of Reflection…and what that word may encompass? When we reflect, we pause to understand the reasons, cause, effect or results of something…we examine or “turn things over” in our mind at length, until we understand it. But we are also a source of reflection. Every day, knowingly or unknowingly, we reflect the status of our inner life and attitude to others and ourselves.


    A mirror is both static and changing because it is a tool of reflection. What we see in it is often the result of our inner voice and opinions as much as it is of what is actually there in front of us. We sometimes decry our abilities, our looks, our value and our accomplishments (at times even our very significance) when we gaze into a mirror, flinching at its imperfect image. Yet it is likely not the image but our opinion of ourselves that causes us to see beyond it to more negative thoughts. We participate in the acknowledgement of our accomplishments and beauty to the degree that we are able to stay open to a non-judgmental self view, refraining from unnecessary negativity. Often our thoughts reflect back inner fears that have nothing to do with reality. If so, it becomes time to step away from the critical, debasing self-reflection, and find instead a more tolerant gaze through to ourselves. 


   The Latin word for "mirror" is "speculum," which originally meant scanning the sky. When we speculate, we scan the future for hints of what will come. We speculate about our prospects of getting a new job, on the results of a relationship, or on the outcome of a presidency. That state of reflection upon certain sets of circumstances is fed by our own fears and motivations. Even if we want the job, or the relationship, we can find ways to undermine or spoil its prospects if we keep focusing on the negative, instead of actively participating in building something stable. through small efforts.


Read more >>



For The Birds

Vermont Diary




Having driven down to New Haven to set my wife on a train for a road trip holiday down to the Carolinas by car, train, car again, I retreated from the 92 degree coastal heat and pollution already at evil level by 10:00am to a remarkable 62 back here in Vermont at noon.


Next day I attended the community kitchen at 6:30 and on coming home noticed that my wife today would be traveling through an area around the Chesapeake Bay where severe thunderstorms and tornados were forecast.


I also noticed that the cats were attendant on the wood-stove, cool this past couple months. In fact a flashlight and careful listening did reveal there was something in it, and being a rational person I deduced it was either a bird which had fallen down the chimney, a mouse or giant vampire rat that had done the same, or a Northern White Gator just waiting for someone to open the door so it could snap a bit before easing itself under the fridge.


As I said, we Vermonters are sober, sensible people, so I waited an hour and a half before rationally concluding that it was in fact a bird, and concocting a plan of how to get it out and not let it loose in a house with 3 cats.


3 Cats now angrily banned upstairs while I tested the tall garbage bag in front of the woodstove so I could open the stove through the bag, and the bird would, grateful for fresh air, drop into the bag, and Bob’s your uncle!


It went off perfectly, I bagged the stove, opened the door of stove, bird came out in two seconds and in two seconds more was flying around the kitchen — hitting one window, then across the room to crash against the other side, then residing puzzled on the draining board. It let me get up close with the garbage bag, used like gloves, and I got it, put it outside on the porch rail.


It cheeped a bit for five minutes, seemed okay and safe, and I went to do something, on return it was gone.


What is the moral of this tale? It has no presidents in it! Whatever this episode might mean to me was gained locally, and with engaged body mind and soul as alternative orientations.


It is just a Vermont Diary entry, and likely more qualified by where one did not put one’s attention, so that ‘just’ is worth a mild emphasis.


Read more Vermont Diary >>



Alan Rayner

Highland Fling

A series of articles - Part 3

Guest Article




Sunday 11th June


We explore the local area around Tyndrum of woodland, moorland and fast-flowing rivers, enchanted by the calls of Wood Warblers and a misty gathering of Wood Horsetails.


Wood Warblers and Horsetails


The sound of a spinning coin

Making its mind up

Whether to settle for heads or tails

Issues from branches in tall, straight trees

With carpets of Rhytidiadelphus

Sprawling at their feet

Opens the way for a day

Beside rushes of peaty water

From rain-soaked hillsides


A misty gathering of horsetails

With delicately branching sprays

Whorled around tubular stems

Brings to the woodland floor

That same kind of atmospheric drift

Which coats the upper reaches

Of mountains hiding their faces


A black liquid mirror

Fringed by sweet gale

Is the legendary repository for Bruce’s discarded Claymore

It hides its past

While reflecting its present

Gathered together

Standing on ceremony


Read On Here >>>



Phil Innes

Grey Tower

Write On!




The same guy was sitting on his plastic chair to the right of the main doors as he had done for 15 years. It cost him 35% to beg there, and all due to the dude in the big tower. It was worth it, since people going in and out didn’t nickel and dime, they dropped fives, sometimes fifties.


He saw some characters going in, Indians, he thought, one older guy in a so-so suit and the other in native dress, blue jeans, sneakers but beaded around the neck with couple tattoos too. He didn’t press the alert button.


Inside the guilt foyer this pair showed their papers and were directed to a guarded elevator where one other person waited — he in a suit, grey-to-white, and wearing a cotton tie also in shades of cream and grey, with prismatic tinges.


Read on >



MM Kizi

Matinicus — The Marvelous Cat

Story Page




A full graphic novel

in slide show format


   Read On >>>

 

Passages

Edward R. Murrow

Sponsored by the oldest furniture store in New England 

https://www.facebook.com/finefurniturenaturally

Hours M-F 10-5 Sat 10-4  (802) 257 7166




We have currently a built-in allergy to unpleasant or disturbing information. Our mass media reflect this. But unless we get up off our fat surpluses and recognize that television in the main is being used to distract, delude, amuse, and insulate us, then television and those who finance it, those who look at it, and those who work at it, may see a totally different picture too late.


When the politicians complain that TV turns the proceedings into a circus, it should be made clear that the circus was already there, and that TV has merely demonstrated that not all the performers are well trained.


We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. We must remember always that accusation is not proof and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law. We will not walk in fear, one of another.


I simply cannot accept that there are, on every story, two equal and logical sides to an argument.


We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men ... We proclaim ourselves, as indeed we are, the defenders of freedom, wherever it continues to exist in the world, but we cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home.


American traditions and the American ethic require us to be truthful, but the most important reason is that truth is the best propaganda and lies are the worst. To be persuasive we must be believable; to be believable we must be credible; to be credible we must be truthful. It is as simple as that.


A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves.


We hardly need to be reminded that we are living in an age of confusion - a lot of us have traded in our beliefs for bitterness and cynicism or for a heavy package of despair, or even a quivering portion of hysteria. Opinions can be picked up cheap in the market place while such commodities as courage and fortitude and faith are in alarmingly short supply.


Not Quite The Thing

See more MM Kizi at  Story Page & https://mmkizi.org


International Caption It Competition




Series Fourteen Images by MM Kizi


and sponsored by




If you like MM Kizi consider buying her new books

Lily the Cowboy and L & the Bell Gang HERE




Poem of the Day

Arcassin Burnham


"WALLS"


when they came tumbling,

in my mind very troubling,

lungs and feeling of dumping,

but i'm so done with everything,

eyes changing , and my age elevating,

red skies , i cant see the radiating,

of the walls.



Image Notes — Oct 14

Weinsteinism — it’s everywhere





[Chess Grandmaster Susan Polgar was the women’s world champion and a leading advocate for chess, especially for girls. Here is an excerpt from her recent blog about “Weinsteinism” in our culture:



“WHY IS THERE A NEED FOR GIRL’S OR WOMEN’S TOURNAMENTS?”


This is probably one of the top 5 questions I have most often been asked over the past 15 years, since creating the Susan Polgar Foundation in 2002. Registration / login required to read full article to weed out the spammers and trolls.

www.themaven.net



During my career, I had numerous occasions from personal experience where various male chess players made me feel awfully uncomfortable, and very unsafe, by making unsolicited and unwanted sexual advances. At times, they refused to take “NO” for an answer. On a few occasions, I was even extremely fearful for my physical safety. Sadly, many of my female chess- playing colleagues have similar stories to mine. This is why during my early years, I rarely dressed up or wore make-up. I did not want to stand out and be a bigger target. While many women want to look better, I “chose” to be less attractive.


Art & Soul

Notes on Creating by Audrey Flack


Exhibiting Work

  




QUESTION: How Can I get my work out?


ANSWER: Find new sources for exhibiting. Don’t rely on the old power structure. Find new sources in the community. All artists cannot exhibit in New York City. Where you are is good. Build up your own area, particularly if there is a weak cultural community. They need you for their vision. All Italian artists did not go to Rome. There were Venetians, Florentines, Umbrians, Sienese. Regionalism is important.


    —From a lecture at

        University of South Florida,

        Tampa.


Now, here, this!  Oct 6


Short & Long-term forecasts





Wet!


A useful on-line resource tracking real-time lightning strikes

http://www.lightningmaps.org/

 

Photos of the Day

Top Two Images —where is it?


Are You Ready?