a potter’s life
It wasn’t that long ago that courageous individuals stood up for their beliefs that all of us are created equally and that we all should have the right to vote. Folks like you and me were beaten, went to jail and even died because they would not waver in their absolute beliefs in freedom and in the right to vote.
After you’ve watched this video, send it to five friends. Ask them to do the same. Keep passing it forward. We CAN make a difference.
#2 daughter and I just watched Iron Jawed Angels, an amazing movie about a critical time in our history. The film depicts the fight of the suffragists who fought for the passage of the 19th Amendment to the Constitution, which secured women’s voting rights. I am grateful to these courageous women, who stood for their rights, and those of their sisters and daughters, in the face of criticism, violence and injustice. It is an important story these days, one I am honored to share with my daughter, who, due to the courage and fortitude of these women, will one day join me in casting her ballot.
We all really do live in the same town; it is called Planet Earth. We share the same air, drink the same water and look at the same blue sky. All of us gaze up at the same stars and are amazed by the same full moon.
We the people can solve problems that governments have caused; we the people can share our resources with our friends and neighbors—even those whom we do not know. We the people.
In this time where CHANGE is the buzzword of the day, we the people live it and do it. We are the change we wish to see in the world. Quietly, without the acrimony of politics. In our everyday life. One cup at a time.
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My Town Monday is the product of Amarillo’s own Travis Erwin’s fine mind. Take a trip over to his site and check out the links to the other bloggers who live in our town.
Hunger does not discriminate; it affects people without regard to background or social status. In our land of plenty, people are hungry every day; they have to decide between paying rent or eating, between medication or food, between staying warm and buying groceries. Of this I am certain: having enough to eat is a right rather than a privilege.
The mission of the Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank is simple: Ending Hunger.
Ending hunger is more than just our mission; it’s something we strive to do everyday. It’s a pledge we have made to our community to end hunger in Summit, Stark, Portage, Medina, Wayne, Holmes, Tuscarawas and Carroll counties. In 1982, based on a commitment by community leaders to help the increasing number of families requesting food assistance, the Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank was formed. In 2007, the Foodbank distributed over 12 million pounds of food and provided meals for over 163,000 people in need in Northeast Ohio.
The Foodbank uses its resources well: each dollar that is donated purchases 7 nutritious meals. Meals that provide sustenance to people who are already stressed. No questions asked. When I recently toured the facility, I was amazed by the quantity of food that was ready to distribute to agencies large and small. The facility was immaculate; the people, both volunteers and paid staff, passionate about their purpose.
We are reaching out to others by giving hope. There is, I think, joy and intrinsic satisfaction in helping people who will never know who we are. As members of a world community, we have a moral and ethical responsibility to share our resources and to preserve dignity.
Cups of Kindness has been on my mind for a long time. This year, we are pleased to join with the Peninsula Art Academy, the Peninsula Area Chamber of Commerce, local. regional and national artists and a group of dedicated volunteers to support the Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank.
This show and sale of small scale art will showcase artists’ interpretations of a Cup of Kindness, and will include both 2 and 3 dimensional artwork. All proceeds from the show will benefit the Foodbank. For information about this event, please go to http://www.cupsofkindness.net. If you would like to donate directly to the Akron- Canton Regional Foodbank, please click here.
The arts have always been alive and well in the Village of Peninsula. And the Cuyahoga Valley is a beautiful place to see both natural and man-made art, to listen to music and to dance.
For the past 20 years, we have looked out our window at the Cuyahoga River, and have watched the seasons change. Nature has always influenced our work.
I have an affinity toward Oriental art—the proportions, the way all the design elements move through space, the sense of quiet. These tiles are carved from porcelain clay. After the first firing, colors are inlaid into the carved areas, the excess is removed, and the glaze is applied. These pieces often require multiple firings before they are ready to be framed.
This piece is called Of the Earth.
This piece is Silence.
The Peninsula Art Academy’s current exhibition is called Political Issues. With the November elections around the corner, and the travesty of the current administration’s policies impacting so many aspects of our lives, it is a timely show.
Don Getz’s collage, “Thanks John”
Stephanie Sibit’s acrylic painting is called “Do It For Liberty”
The Log Cabin Gallery is a wonderful place to explore local art in a lovely setting. Autumn Here and There is the current show. It features autumn-themed, traditional art with a funky, wily nily twist by local and regional artists as well as artists who now live away.
On the way to the Log Cabin Gallery.
A view of artwork inside the Log Cabin Gallery.
Celebrating the cultural legacy of the Cuyahoga Valley, the Heritage Series presents a variety of great lectures and music. There are contra-dances on the 4th Saturday and on the 2nd and 4th Thursday of each month.
The hills and valleys sing with the incredible beauty that is this Valley, named Cuyahoga for the crooked river that runs through it.
And in it is the Village of Peninsula, population 602, gently resisting change since 1837.
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I am proud to join the other My Town Monday Marauders in sharing our towns with you. MTM is the brainchild of Travis Erwin. Wander on over to his place, and see where it takes you. You’ll have a good time, and learn a bunch. Really.
My mother-in-law is an amazing woman. With her hands and her heart, using size 2 needles, she has knitted 194 sets of hats and booties for premature babies. With those hands she knitted over 200 sets of hats and mittens for children who had none. With those hands..
With those hands and her heart, she has made quilts, all hand pieced and hand quilted, for us all. With those hands she has worked with the ladies of her quilt club on countless quilts. With those hands and heart, she knitted caps and booties for a young pregnant woman. She talked to the ladies of her quilt club and to her hairdresser. Those hands and the hands of the ladies made 3 baby quilts, an afghan, and a pillow for the young mother-to-be so she would have something beautiful. Those hands now search the thrift stores for things the baby might need. With those hands and that heart.
Each year at Christmas, those hands make 100 or so cupcake-sized fruitcakes for her husband and sons. I always thought that the cakes must be an acquired taste, one, after all these years, I have still not acquired. Her hands make strudel, mince pies, apple and pumpkin pies. They make peanut butter pies for the granddaughter who loves them, and pumpkin pies to go with the whipped cream.
She was an English war bride, and came to this country knowing no one but the man she barely knew. They built a life here, and she sewed curtains and costumes and clothing. She knitted scarves and canned jars and jars of sauces and jellies and jams.
From her heart, through her hands, she shares her love. And with this heart, through these hands, I share mine.
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I originally wrote this piece for my mother-in-law’s birthday last year. When I began to think of a person about whom to write for October Ovation, she came to mind. I’ve added a few more thoughts, and I am pleased to share them with you.
For other October Ovation posts, visit Barrie, and Larramie. It will be a joy to see what other folks have to say.
On Wednesday, #2 daughter and I will be hitting the road again. Off to the Lake Eden Arts Festival. Should be a beautiful drive with a great kid to a wonderful place. #2 has a stress fracture, but doesn’t let a cast and crutches get her down. She is a Ninja warrior child who has more compassion and courage than she knows.
Today is a day of getting ready: an E string for #2′s fiddle, an extra camera battery and memory card, assorted snacks and other household and travel administrative tasks.
Tomorrow #2 has her writing class, then we’re off. I’ll be posting as part of Larramie’s and Barrie’s October Ovation tomorrow; and I’ll be back on Monday, with a My Town Monday post.
Come along with us to North Carolina:
I’l
This was an exquisite weekend in my town, the Village of Peninsula, Ohio, population 602. The sky—-oh, the sky—that infinite azure
September sky; and the brilliance of the leaves were breath-taking. And today, in the middle of that blue sky, were a couple of clouds that moved a bit to reveal an incredible rainbow that was gone as quickly as it appeared.
Before I had any idea what the day would be like, I signed up at Mrs. G’s to participate in a Day in the Life post. It started out just fine, with an early morning drive into our beautiful valley, the Cuyahoga. I love that time of day, when the sun streams over the trees and the day is still quiet.
Sunrise on the bridge is especially lovely.
The trees line the road with gold.
The day progressed, with Steve throwing pots.
I worked on a vase I was carving.
Stephy and Loren worked on their projects.
Then the train came into town, bringing loads of interesting and interested people into our little Village. People come into our studio/gallery curious about the process.
An artist, Lahoma Clearwater, brought in some new work. Lahoma makes “leafings,” incredibly beautiful one of a kind cement castings of leaves that she collects. Using acrylic paints, she blends colors that make her pieces “sing.”
My workspace temporarily morphed into a place to keep Lahoma’s work until I could hang it.
Since making pieces was no longer possible,I decided to walk through town, knowing that I had committed to couple My Town Monday with a Day in the Life.
The folks from the Methodist Church have been raising money to restore the steeple of their historic building.
They have removed it, as they continue to raise funds.
At the end of a busy day, Steve and I returned home, and went up to our barn.
We opened the doors in the upper part of the barn and looked out, knowing that we were home.
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My Town Monday is a product of Amarillo’s own Travis Erwin. Take a trip on over to his place, and you’ll find links to places all over this beautiful planet. You won’t regret it. I promise.
According to Criticsrant.com my blog’s reading level is
Must be the post about Sullivan Ballou. The last time I tried this, I was at a Junior High reading level. Great, I thought, the time of tortuous confusion. I guess things can change…
What is your blog’s reading level?
In our Civil War study, my daughter and I came across a sweet lovely letter. I love the poetry of the words and the heart behind them. I think about that war, and the tremendous human cost, and the current wars and their unfathomable costs, and I hope that wisdom prevails. The Bill of Rights is not a list of suggestions.
July 14, 1861
Camp Clark, WashingtonMy very dear Sarah:
The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more . . .I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of the Government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Revolution. And I am willing perfectly willing to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt . . .
Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.
The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them for so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grown up to honorable manhood, around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have often times been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness . . .
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights . . . always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again .
The letter was written by Sullivan Ballou, a lawyer from Rhode Island who entered the military when the Civil War started in 1861. He was 32 when he died at the Battle of Bull Run, on July 21, 1861. His wife, Sarah, was 24 years old when she became a widow with young children. Ironically, the letter was never mailed. It was found among Sullivan Ballou’s effects when Rhode Island’s governor traveled to Virginia to collect the remains of his state’s dead.
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