Ya Ya, Roller Skates & 61 Moons

Be Amazing or Amazed...Not so hard...

2011-10-29T14:59:00.000-05:00

Be Amazing or Amazed

It is not hard to do if we let it…

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney©11

I think we all have at one time or another thought that when it comes to being an amazing person that we have to do something that totally boggles our mind, some superhuman feat with an exceptional "wow" factor involved.

And of course doing that most of us know we may never be called upon to save a baby from a burning building or lifting a car off said baby or finding the cure for AIDS/cancer, homeliness, world hunger, a way to get people to know it is not smart starting school at 8am or getting Congress to stop fighting one another or putting people back to work.

Now it would be lovely if one or all of us can or will find a way for the above.

I would not be mad at you if you did...

However there are lots of little tiny things we can do each day or at least once a week if we choose to do so. Like:

Eating healthy at least 1 meal a day.

Taking money from buying one more outfit we really don’t need and helping someone buy a school book, pay a utility bill, put gas in their car or bus fare…

Smile at a stranger...

Let someone have the parking space even if we were first.

Clear out our closets/drawers cabinets & garage & give it directly to a family in need without a question, expectation or praise.

Even if it’s on TV not say a negative word about someone else even if we think they deserve it because we know they'll never know we said anything negative...

Better yet cast the thought immediately out of our minds immediately.

Learn & stop acting like reality shows or real

Stop cursing for a day

Not enjoy someone else's' misfortune even if it is someone we do not care for.

Get joy from our accomplishments, not from demeaning another’s.

Don’t put your feet on the back of the chairs in the movies even if someone is not sitting there.

Walk away from the entrance of a store if you’re smoking so others do not have to inhale your exhale.

Really stop texting while driving, putting on makeup, eating change clothes while driving.

Or you don’t have to drop it like it’s hot or sell your body or soul for approval.

A setback can lead us to a better place—if we just let it.~Unknown

And don’t think you may not have days when you have a setback. It is a chance to dig even deeper into yourself if you’re up to it. We are indeed flawed people, so screw ups are inevitable.

Recently, in fact just a few days ago I came to learn my nemesis; a woman who has seemingly gone out of her way for over 17 years of giving me grief seemed to be in distress.

Understand I've only stepped in her home one time in 17 years; she's been in mind once & was forced to come. Never did her anything, ever except grief. Many of her jabs were unkind, some were more benign; in one case she unknowingly could have cost me my life. I'm not exaggerating.

Too long to go into; just take my word at it.

But when I hear she was having some serious health issues and then running into her the very next day & for the 1st time she actually paid me a compliment as well as being kind to 2 other people she has disliked longer then I, something told me something was wrong. It appeared almost like she was trying to right real or imagines wrongs.

I could not sleep thinking of her and the next day took it upon myself to call.

There was no way to say it but to say it giving her the option if she did not want to talk about it with me because of our past history, I simply told her she had been on my mind noticed the rapid weight loss and the suffering on her face a few days prior, I simply offered my help such as it was if she ever needed it.

She spoke of in fits & starts, some of the health challenges she's been dealing with but it was clear the way she was talking that she was unsure of going into more considering the fact we had never been the best of acquaintances let along friends albeit that the distance was one-sided.

But I just let her know I cared & I thought of her, right at the close right before I hung up, she thanked me for calling. It was not the words but the tone that let me know she did indeed appreciate my calling.

No I was not Mother Theresa, I knew & had known for almost 2 decades the level of nastiness, cattiness & sometimes downright cruel things she (who had no clue I knew) had done as she often would stir others to do much of her dirty work, there was no reason for any of it.

It came down to a matter of envy, sadly.

I had learned of her horrific childhood that no doubt shattered her heart & that of her siblings. So though she projected it on me, it had never been about me.

However, I would be lying to say there were days when I wanted to rip her lips off because of the actions (I didn't). I kept my distance as much as humanely possible, sometime it was unavoidable but most time I was successful in keeping our contact at a minimum.

I think in some ways I was more disappointed in the ones who were all too eager to be her accomplices or others who had no backbone to stand up to her so it was more of go along to get along as some we mutually knew were more afraid for her to turn her wrath on them, they passively went along with her although not necessarily agreeing with her.

But I had reached a point in my life that this saying rang clear & true:

I suspect she is far more ill then she is letting on to me & maybe she in the midst of trying to make amends as she has actual said more then one kind words to me lately. Her pride may never allow her to say I'm sorry.

That's ok as I really don't need it.

I am more pleased with myself that I've reached a point in my life not to have regrets, to know I've not retaliated against her although many a day I stood strong & held my ground when needed. Otherwise we would not have this little window, a room where she could open a door & step in to do the right thing.

So I'm relieved.

So while I probably won't save a baby from a burning building, or lift a car off said baby or find the cure for AIDS/cancer/world hunger/homelessness, a way to get people to know it is not smart starting school at 8am or getting Congress to stop fighting one another or putting people back to work.

Maybe just maybe, I've help a person to be able to have her heart a little lighter knowing that I would be there if she needed me to be.

That's amazing.

Now if we can only get Congress to do the right thing.

All rights Reserved JHM10-29-11©

Turn the Beat Around

2011-10-25T14:08:00.000-05:00

It was an interesting morning following a most interesting weekend.

Miranda Wu,photographer, Hong Kong

For a moment it threatened to become a foul day behind one small sentence a nasty little comment from someone whom I've never met, will probably never meet about something they were misinformed about.

Actually there were two but the 1st one wasn't directed at me but to someone who had been widowed recently on top of a tumultuous year filled with illness, unexpected deaths from 2 close family members one being her husband, a serous car accident, loss of income & loss of her home.

The ne'er-de-wells attentions were not pure morals of the highest order. They were just being nosey and wanted to see how far she had "fallen" so they could in a pitiful way feel better. It didn't serve a purpose, their actions, for them other then a momentary feeling of smugness that was fleeting & not substantial as they have to do this often to feed the beast, the one of their own inadequacy.

They keep feeding the beast who is now grotesquely obese but malnourished so nothing ever comes out of this.

Then within an hour I had received an "accidental"email where the person was making a snide comment about me to someone else & then sent it to me apparently in a BCC,I could not tell you it was accidental or purposeful as it does not change the content.

First thing is, folks who do things like this, if you're going to do something like that, be sure to check before you hit enter otherwise it could backfire on you.

What purpose was it to serve? How does it enhance you? Was a good purpose served?

In rapid succession I was puzzled, hurt, then angry and was building up a head of steam until that lightening bolt moment when I thought: Turn the Beat Around!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuHepuVSheA

I responded back to said person acknowledging that perhaps the email was sent in error and as a professional i could not imagine anyone deliberately sending such a thing but agreed with them that in part some of what they said was true: it was indeed "too bad" but it was too bad for them not for me.

I have no desire & wouldn't do business it anyone who could be that shabby & tacky nor was I in the business to beg them to do me a a favor. In fact, I thought utilizing me would have been a good thing, not a bad one. If the BCC was sent to me in "error" which I construe as an accident on purpose, the contents remained the same.

I could have wasted far more valuable time & energy on someone anyone would did not deem me worthy enough trying to explain away why they were wrong or I could turn the beat around that just because they felt that way it had any merit of truth to it.

Not everything or everybody will jibe. The world does not ordain that.
The world today, however, seems to thrive on if you let it infect you, of becoming increasingly mean spirited, heartless, deriving pleasure from what appears to be another's way that may be different from theirs.

Once upon a time popular consensus would be that such behavior is morally wrong. Now you get a book deal, a TV show or an unearned "status" raking in tens of thousands of dollars from what is by any standard cruel or selfish behavior.

And we're told to suck it up... to enjoy, emulate and adding insult to injury pay for it!

In my case, though, this had nothing to do with me suffering this was about a mutually beneficial event for the parties involved. And someone decided to be mean and not even adult enough to talk to you but as cowards can do, go around it but doing it anyway.

In the scheme of things this is a minor thing & will long be forgotten. It is just for today it mattered but more from the standpoint of learning to turn something around. Someones opinion is not necessarily an indictment, simply their opinion and the sun did not let up for one more of its brightness because of it.

Artists go through this all the time, it comes unfortunately with the territory. I've said this many times if YOU do not see your work or you as the best thing since the invention of Kool-aid, why or how would you expect anyone to believe in your worth or in what you present.

There will always be someone around who wants to ride on the beat-down train, but you do not have to be a paid passenger!

It was good for me how rapidly I went from being hurt to oh well it is your loss. To date the person neither has responded by email or phone and doubt seriously if I will be as the song goes "You lose a good thing"...©11

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0x4AZHDT-4A

Miranda Wu, watercolorist, Hong Kong

Going global... interesting tidbits

2011-10-25T12:59:00.000-05:00

THE POPULATION OF THE WORLD IS EXPECTED TO HIT 7 BILLION on October 31, according to the United Nations population division. That is up from 2.5 billion in 1950. To put 7 billion people in perspective, see if you can correctly answer the following question.

"Chickie, Chickie Baby" Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney

If 7 billion people stood shoulder to shoulder, which of the following geographic areas is the smallest that could accommodate them?

A) Zanzibar (about 650 square miles)

B) Maui (about 727 square miles)

C) Rhode Island (about 1,033 square miles)

D) Sicily (about 9,925 square miles)

E) Cuba (about 42,845 square miles)

F) New Zealand (about 103,733 square miles)

The answer -- in a moment.

Here are some interesting facts regarding the rate of growth of the population.

It took:

250,000 years for the world to reach a population of 1 billion (hit in 1804)

a. 123 years for the next billion (2 billion in 1927)

b. 33 years to reach the next billion (3 billion in 1960)

c. 14 years to reach the next billion (4 billion in 1974)

d. 13 years to reach the next billion (5 billion in 1987)

e. 12 years to reach the next billion (6 billion in 1999)

Sources: The Economist; United Nations World Population Prospects: The 2000 Revision, Volume III: Analytical Report

And, the growth continues, we are projected to hit 9.3 billion by 2050.

For decades, experts have argued over whether or not our planet can handle this growth. What is not up for debate, though, is the fact that a growing population will affect the demand for goods and services. Food, of course, is high on the list.

The World Bank says, Between 2005 and 2055 agricultural productivity will have to increase by two-thirds to keep pace with rising population and changing diets. Okay, this is interesting, but why should we pay attention to this type of information?

As financial advisors, we want to monitor trends that could impact the demand for goods and services, which, in turn, may suggest areas ripe (no pun intended!) for investment. By keeping a finger on the pulse of long-term trends -- like the rising world population -- we might get an early read on investment opportunities.

Getting back to the population/geography question, The Economist says the answer is (A) Zanzibar. Does 650 square miles to hold everyone surprise you?

Red Lipstick: Given Homage to how life can work sometimes...

2011-10-20T15:24:00.001-05:00

Red Lipstick: Given Homage to how life can work sometimes...

"Let your past make you better, Not bitter"~ Unknown

Jonathon Green,artist

Today would have been my 1st born son Donovan Perri's 40th BD had he lived. He died @ 2 1/2mos from what we now know as SIDS.

Tomorrow would have been my third born son Joshua Marion-Roi's 35th BD had he lived. He drowned tragically in my landlord pool.

There is this thing called anniversary grief that those who have lost a love one can well attest to. Time does not heal wounds. What it can give you is time...

You change and you see things perhaps from a different perspective as you move through the tide of time. Everything must change... nothing stays the same including how or which way you grieve.

When I was a young mother at the time of both their deaths age 21 at the time of Donovan's death and 31 at the time of Joshua's I wasn't sure if I could ever breathe properly. In fact at age 21 that year was a fog once I was told about Donovan. I was alone. Even at his funeral it was only me, my 2 daughters, the baby sitter at his services. I went through motions and it took a year before I could breathe properly.

Donovan was what people would have called a "good" baby quiet & easy to care for. He was a beautiful baby and was very close in personality to his older sister Andrea.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iq0XJCJ1Srw

Then Joshua came into my heart.

I went into labor on would have been Donovan's 4th BD. I prayed that I would not give birth on that day naively, feverishly thinking somehow that would have meant I could keep him.

Well it didn't although I "kept" him in essence for 7 years. Joshua was indeed born on a Sunday Morn which in essence why this song by Angela Bofill entitled "Rainbow Child, (Little Pas) that she wrote ironically in 1979 2 years before Joshua's death when she experience the tragic death of her nephew.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6LdQHCdH5VY

Almost a decade later, I choreographed a dance based on this song & danced beautifully by my daughter Trishaa in homage to her brothers.

Somehow I made a pact with myself that their lives would not be in vain. It wasn't a conscious pact not much different then my praying that Joshua would not be born on Donovan's BD, but the pact was there. Through the subsequent years I held up that pact; other years failed miserably. But I kept on getting up.

So here I am 40 years later still vertical, still caring still falling and yet even moreso getting up. In a small sense of irony, the day before the anniversary of Joshua's drowning I have a exhibition opening reception on Nov 11th. Joshua's ashes were flown out to sea on Nov 22nd which with even more irony would have been my wedding anniversary if the marriage lasted. My former husband and I separated for the last time a few months after he died.

There was no resurrection, that ship had sailed.
But I was still here!

I'm still here.

It also was for those who would remember the date of the assassination of John F. Kennedy so it would be near impossible for me to "forget" as if I would really want that to be.

Since I had more time with Joshua I can tell you how apropos this song was. He more then Donovan was remarkably like me in personality. Joshua was like cayenne pepper, adventuresome, bold, curious, imaginative a heart as big as all outdoors.

He was bold, funny highly intelligent for someone so young. And I do not say that through the scrim of time and grief. He was a special kid well like & popular even when he would drive you crazy with his high energy living. And lived he did.

Loved Star Wars, water was strong like the fictional character from the Flintstones Bamm Bamm.

So ones would know this does not take away from my living children as tey have all grown into beautiful, responsible, capable caring human beings who in their own individual ways are making their mark on the world. I simply wished that my sons also had the same opportunities.

This morning I got up not necessarily feeling down more of a there were a couple of matters that needed to be said to some people that I had not said a few months ago as I wisely thought to give it time and would come back to revisit.

I revisited...

It wasn't a telling you off kind of visitation, more of this is where things are at & I get why it happened but now I simply want an adjustment & we will be "adjusted".

I had adjusted so this was really the epilogue.

Life can work itself out if we allow it and get out of the way of ourselves given time. So I put on my red lipstick and got out of the way.

So today I pay homage to my sons & continue to function well as one can be with whatever life and living issues. I can be bold, fearless, adventuresome, funny and have a big heart as large as all outdoors. AND I can also be quiet, easy going and good as circumstances can allow. I continue to revisit my ownself, making adjustments corrections caring for things not cared for, hoping that ones will bear with me as this is indeed a work in progress.

Know full well again that everything must change.

And we can.

We do...
We must, whether we want it to or not...

Life will continue to work.

Jonathon Green, artist

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could"...~- Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer

www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKIIYk8tdgE

My Bags are Packed, I'm Ready to FLow...

2011-05-23T15:05:00.000-05:00

My Bags are Packed, I’m ready to Flow

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney ©11

On May 8th, 2011 my Big City Women series of quilts turned 17; almost grown. I had been an artist in one discipline or another for 37 years in between fits and starts of trying to fit into more “traditional” occupations of wiggling in trying to put a square peg into a round hole.

In 1991after leaving my tenure as first the creative director/choreographer for a performing dance company due to budget cuts, I did not know what I was going to do. After all who wanted a (at that time) 41 year old ex-dancer? My experience in other occupations was limited although multi-dimensional none that ever fit well although I could do the work. But in 1991 I decided or thrust into a leap of faith dreaming of owning my own business, of having a gallery to give a place for newly emerging artists a place to showcase their work.

Despite evidence to the contrary then as well if now more so, emerging artists had difficulty being part of an exhibition; it was/is not unlike the cliché “how do you get a job with no experience and or get experience with no job”? So in true Mooney form I decided to open such a space. At that time I had taken upon myself to put my art on a secondary plane to have this vision. At that time I was creating decorative pillows and soft sculpture dolls which was a struggle for me as my sewing skills were very limited having one semester of sewing in 1964 and flunking that!

But the pillows and dolls sold nicely albeit slowly. So I started driving a cab at nights to earn money to open this space naively thinking I could once opening Jambalaya that I could continue making the pillows & dolls. How naïve, idealistic and unrealistic I was! But the beauty in ignorance there is a freedom that you cannot do any wrong, so let’s go for it!

The store was a success to the point I could not create the very venue that I wanted to & that is to showcase my own work. It did not mean my creativity did not show up other ways not only in the décor, but featuring artist in all the disciplines to the point that even today 20 years later someone will evoke a memory of the place.

What I did not like was the day to day running of the place and did not have the capital to hire someone else to run it so I could create. Fast forward a year and a half later when someone walked into my gallery asking for any more of the pillows I had created. Upon my telling them that I had not made any more, the customer told me she had been taking the stuffing out and framing the covers! At first I was very indignant as it was quite difficult & tedious my doing the pillows since my sewing skills were so limited, but awhile late my brain cells kicked in and I realized “wait a minute, maybe she was on to something”! So I set up my machine in the back of the place & started sewing, sewing on off days and in between customers but instead of making pillows, I looked at what I was doing as painting with fabric; the centers was the “canvas”, the sashing was the “mat” and the binding was the “frame”.

Early Quilt called "Dis n Dat from 1992. This picture was taken in 2005 at Stagville Plantation in North Carolina:

I then took them first to the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival (I was living in San Diego at the time) and did nicely. Buoyed by that modest success, I tried at some smaller festivals in San Diego & did not do as well. But I kept on going. The very next year I return to the N.O Jazz & Heritage event and then it happened…

A most extraordinary thing…

As told in a later interview the following happened:

“Mooney’s vibrant and heartfelt textile art has been seen as the tangible results of her own life and the observation of human behavior.

Her popular Big City Women series was born of humble beginnings in 1994 on a trip to her home in New Orleans... She was participating for the first time in the Jazz and Heritage Festival with her decorative pillows and dolls. The day after the Fest ended one of the worst flood recorded in 200 years hit New Orleans. That night between the lightening and the continual rain, the artist woke from a deep slumber to watch what she called “the best laser show she had seen”. She, unable to sleep, started sketching the first of her now 300 appliqué designs called “Passion “that became a major leap into what has been an exciting, dizzying magic carpet ride”.

That is putting it mildly. I sold out at the Fest & was scheduled to leave that Monday, but there was something else getting ready to happen. That Sunday evening hours after the Fest closed, it started raining like I had not ever seen rain. Exhausted, I fell asleep early knowing I had an early morning flight. That was not to take place. Somewhere in the middle of the night that laser show began. As a sidebar, I had been since childhood afraid of lightning & thunder, but that night I was not afraid. From the vantage point where I was laying, I could look out at “the best laser show I had ever seen”. I was strangely very calm, then became inspired got up and started sketching what became the 1st of the Big City Women series©94.

Understand I would have told you I could not draw stick people. The 1st BCW was called “Passion”. That night the 1st ten women were born.

See versions of Passion and other first BCW's

By morning, it was quite apparent I could not leave the city as the airport and everything was shut down as it turned out to be (at that time), the worst flood in 200 years in New Orleans! I could not even get out of the house, so using my host’s sewing machine I started creating these women. Once I could leave several days later I sold Passion. To this day I regretted selling the 1st Passion, but that time I did things without rhyme or conscious reason.

Passion©95

Proudly struttin' in silver streaked slippers...

dazzling emeralds

with a verve....

energy illuminating the midnight sky.

Showering her gifts that whoops & shouts

Thrown about the heavens, her pungent scents.

Cinnamon, lemon of orange blossoms,

creamy magnolia held...

Too long in the dark it seems...

An eternity…

Inspiring...

Coming unannounced heralding with splendored golden & coppered grandeur...

With absolutely no delusions of what she will do.

The audacity!

Spilled heavy laden liquid jasmine...

This lagniappe Elle!

Imagine...

Walking accordingly with faith, things not beheld

And proceeding with haste, not wavering grasping her bounty....

Leap!

Big City Woman! “Who are you? Will you tarry awhile?

Or…

Will you take leave quieter then you came?"

"No my sister...

I am here with you, for you & by you…

For as long as you need me to.

I am you”.

Faith!

“I will be called Passion

My name is Jacquelyn…

Speak it carefully...

Speak of me well, with all due respect....

Passion…

So much will come, while I am here.

I will tarry awhile to gather up the stars

And sprinkle this confection generously to light up the way....

Until you are ready to take up the walk & talk your talk…

With silver streaked slippers illuminating a darkened sky."

All Rights reservedJHM©95

Other of the early BCW's

But during those several days I was in a sewing & creative frenzy, including the poems about the women although I was not sharing them publicly. I returned to San Diego walked into my gallery the next day looked around & decided in my bones to close it down.

I did just that. And threw everything overboard, moved into my daughter’s tiny 2 bedroom apartment and got to work. I should say the rest was herstory. This very long background is said for one thing: make no mistake; it was not easy, not by a long shot. I sacrificed a lot many a day having to decide between buying a pack of Top Ramen Chinese noodles and buying thread.

My now very grown granddaughters in the early days helping me "quilt". This piece was later presented to author Terry McMillian.

I took temp jobs to help pay my rent, moved into a small apartment with drug dealers selling out front, having my broken down old car broadsided & then catching the bus. One of the temp jobs was at a bank in the “dungeon” as it was called filing records. The job was to last a week it went on for several weeks as I did the job very well but here I was coming home too exhausted to work on by this time knowing I was creating quilts.

I struggled with deciding to quit and liking having steady money coming in. Every morning I went in determined to give notice and by the time I got there convinced I the paycheck was worth it. Taking care of my physical needs was one thing, but creatively and spiritually I was malnourished. Then the fateful day occurred when coming home on the bus exhausted I went to step off the bus unaware that the bus did not pull up to the curb and went straight down on my bad leg tearing my tendons. I was ordered off the leg for a few weeks. The bank did not like that & threatened to give my position to someone else. I told them they could as I was done. Know that it was not malice, they were a business and in business to make money & I could not fulfill my obligations.

I did not look back. Within a year I was offered my first artist residency that was a near 10 year run & was published in the first book.

Even in all of that I still was to have many ups & downs curves and lonely roads, but I’ve not looked back until the last 2-3 years while being sorely tested. It seemed everything dried up in me. I was frozen, grieving, bitter & angry. Everything in me burst out health wise including a seriously marked weight gain. It is no reason for me to go into all of that as I’ve blogged numerously about it.

Then suddenly on May 8, 2011 on the day the BCW turned 17 I realized I had flowed very quietly back into creating. It smooth its way in without my even realizing it had happened with a new Big City Woman making her entrance. I had not created a new one in 4 years! And suddenly many of my files that were suppose to be wiped out of my hard drive I started stumbling upon them in chunks including my long lost manuscript for both my short story book & my book of poetry! I found myself smiling as I eased into creating like I used to when I first started with joy & purpose, not with resentment & pressure.

By no shape am I out of the woods. I have so much that needs to be address, people who have been extraordinarily patient waiting on their commissioned pieces. However I think they will be quite pleased when they see their finished art. I can see in what I’ve done so far there is a new depth & vigor in the work. As time goes by I will share some of the images.

Ironically, today in 2011 parallels with those early years as if I was starting over.

I am not…

I am indeed starting up.

Just like I did not know where 18 years ago where I was heading, I just knew I was. The difference between then & now is I am older, wiser and more experienced. Now just like then I still have my naysayers, I still have shadow people who seem to be fascinated enough with me, to do as Dr. Maya Angelou would say about what she refuses to be with others pejorative: belittle/ devalue/ make smaller/ sneering/ depreciatory /sniping. I won’t be the first nor will I ever be the last. There are too many damaged people for that to ever happen.

I am doing some or went through something that sister-friend Oprah Winfrey said her second to last week before closing her successful run about “finding herself not broken but broken open”.

That is where I am.

In fact my trajectory this year will reflect that broken open in ways I cannot tell you yet; I trust that it will simply be not unlike seeing a 60 year old Kristie Alley a board certified Big City Woman make the finals of DWTS (sorry y’all I have to crow on that one) to the some of a single parent mom do something that his predecessors could not do with all the naysayers the hounds with their blood letting could not do, to a very poor & abused Southern girl becomes the most successful person end her 25 year run in high celebration create her own network to my own daughter and others like her walk across the stage to get her degree even when some said it couldn’t be done…

But did it anyway; these are my Big City Women (and men).

Let me end with a description someone wrote about my space about mes affaires belles ~My Beautiful Belongings:

“This space will be so vibey, now and eternal; it speaks of seasons, their rhythm & its colours, be it the lunar rhythms full & waning light & dark; the seasonal rhythms & colours; the rhythms &; colours of our own personal lives & those of our extended family.

It captures it all; yet can be taken so individually to fit each person& feel, perspective, jive & flow... Rhythm & Hues is everything animate & inanimate, relating a magnetic creative force with added New Orleans flamboyance.

So very interpretive being ageless, timeless, spatial, centered, meaningful to both genders...

It can be all things to all people.

Rhythm & Hues beats, hums, sings and speaks...

It poses profiles, winks, smiles and smirks...

It all but breathes...

But then it does that, too”

May I continue to do so and perhaps even one better…. My bags are packed and I’m ready to flow.

All rights reservedJH

If it Ain't Happening (to me).. Is it Happening...Lessons learned from idiocy

2011-05-23T14:56:00.001-05:00

If it’s not happening to me, is it happening?

Thirsty people seek water,; hungry people seek food; cold people seek heat; neglected people see acceptance (approval)~Phil McGraw

Warning, this is a long blog:.

Like many others, I woke up this morning to still yet another storm devasting and destroying the many good people of Joplin, Missouri. It took me more then a minute to realize what was going on Good Morning America because as I saw the first images, I thought they were talking about Mississippi! Much to my horror I come to find out this just happened yesterday evening at dinnertime!

Like many I sat there with my jaw dropped opening and heart was wrenching with the early reports. Rapid thoughts going through my head one of which was how easily one’s life can change on a dime to what can be done to help aid the suffering that is just beginning to seeing for myself the irony of while this was going on Sunday evening there I was thinking about something that in comparison to this was quite trivial.

I am sure many others were having similar thoughts with some making needed changes in their lives while most will beyond the initial shock will sooner or later go back to their lives; sort of the “if its not happening to me, it really isn’t happening”. I don’t necessarily mean in a callous way although for some it will be but perhaps (and I am only speculating here), it is a flawed human reaction to distance oneself from these sorts of things out of fear or self preservation...

Sometimes it is simple too much, hurts too much, that the proverbial rug can indeed be pulled from underneath you in the blink of an idea with you not knowing what to do so one can contrive ways to deflect to distance oneself.

Well there I was ruminating over the selfishness & irresponsibility of some people I barely know over their behavior toward me & how their “If it isn’t happening to me” actions brought some real, tangible hurt to me. Not anything that will long term cause permanent damage, but nonetheless the betrayal did sting & in some cases hurt. I was trying to figure out in my mind how to deal with it if there was any dealing at all to do or how I could do a better job of not listening to the stuff. Understand, I can see an elephant coming toward but, I cannot see it when it arrives like a gnat or even a butterfly until slap!

Now again, I know this is very trivial in comparison to what happen last night.

I am getting there.

Right now I am telling a story…

Ok, so where was I… Oh yes… I ended up reading three stories last night one story will be quite familiar to some, the others maybe not so much. I was sitting there Sunday evening meditating on this when I recalled the story of Job and his issue with as he was going to his very challenging trials that he had so called “comforters”, self-righteous tormentors who had to add insult to injury adding to his burden as he was engaged in a trial not of his on doing. My reflections came to a conclusion of wanting more to emulate Job maintain integrity despite it all. Flawed yes, but maintaining.

The next was on Elijah, the prophet who in his despair, feeling he was lost, alone, in fear & tired while being persecuted by Queen Jezebel who made it clear as soon as she caught up with him, that he would be a dead man. She had already killed thousands of believers but made it really clear, she had something special in line for him once he was captured. But at his worst, an angel was dispensed to minister to him not once but twice to help restore him not only physically but more so spiritually to do what needed to be done. And Elijah was not a young man when this persecution was happening. Yet Elijah was listened to as he poured out his distress, was sustained and went on to do miraculous things.

The third was one I had not heard of Mephibosheth. (Please do not ask me to pronounce) He was the son of Jonathon, Kind David closes friend & was disabled. A promise made by King David to Jonathon was to take care of his children. Another man Ziba, who’s family were servants to Mephibosheth, took advantage of a circumstance to bear a falsehood about Mephibosheth which caused him to lose everything. Later when his side of the story was hear the decision came that they both would share the inheritance although Ziba lied. Mephibosheth although he suffered greatly said that Ziba could have everything as the thing that mattered to him more was the safety of King David. That had to be hard, but there was a principle that was involved. I looked at it from the standpoint that despite the fact I have had gynormous challenges & my angst this last week about those who tried to heap fiery coals on my head was more about my being through with them, not about my being hurt. There was a principle involved.

People are going to be self-seeking, self-gratifying, and pleasure-seeking with a growing urgency in not wanting to see what is going on around them. It is the culture we are living in today. People are going to do exactly what their character dictates. Just more of the “it ain’t happening to me” strategy, born of self-interested& yes, fear. It was more, for me, about moving away from the polluted “air” around these folks as I do not want to be contaminated. I did not want to inhale.

Please note I do not think most folks see themselves as being so self-absorbed or selfish. I barely know some of these folks then just in passing, we run into each other often enough to where I know their faces, but not their names for the most part. In some cases, contact may not be completely avoidable. My reflections are about what I can do to improve what I can do to be a better person & perhaps even be more merciful toward them.

Now what does this have to do with my issue with is trivial in comparison to Missouri? Well for me, it was while hurtful and real to me, my situation; there are indeed bigger fish to fry. What people do in the least is what they do in the much; I simply want to be better about rising to an occasion. It never ceases to amaze me how many people seem to take delight or some perverted sense of pleasure or amusement out of someone’s suffering & do nothing. Others who while not getting pleasure so to speak can stand idly by with the “I have to take care of my own” or “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” while standing idly by and do nothing. The “do nothing” are the operative words. However I wish their “do nothing” approach applied in keeping their opinions to themselves and not heap burdens on others as going back to the account of Job. There are many, many people suffering, to varying degrees & individually we do not get to decide who more deserves then the other. We may not individually be able to wipe out world hunger, but we can help a local person or a family even in the smallest thing, a meal or a loaf of bread.

And do it with no strings attached. Aiding someone , let say with a roll of toilet paper (yes there are some who cannot even buy that) does not secure the giver the right to lecture, pass judgment or get titillated by gossiping with someone else as to why or what that person may have (or not) done to be in that both. If you cannot or won’t help, now the times to operate the “does nothing” strategy, 1st do no harm.

A lot of people are not in the positions they are in because of bad “karma” or bad decisions or being lazy. Time & unforeseen circumstances can befall any of us at anytime. Just ask the people of Joplin, Mo who were probably having dinner, playing games, making a run to the store, arguing with a family member or wishing they had family when that massive tornado hit.

Just a couple of days ago I ran into a man at the streetcar who I had just thought in passing he was a bit eccentric. In a city full of eccentrics, you don’t pay a whole lot of attention if you live here; it is part of the territory. Well that same day I asked the bus driver about something he had spoken to her about. Well it turns out every Sat he has a clothing drive gathering clothing for the homeless at a former Walgreen store destroyed by Katrina & now is a furniture bank. He was asking her to pass the word about getting feminine toiletries for homeless women as apparently there was a place allowing these women to shower & they were trying to gather toiletries for them.

I asked her the next time she saw him to please get a contact number not knowing that the very next day I was going to run into him. 7am Sunday morning in fact! I asked him about his project & got a location which turned out to be a furniture bank that I mentioned above. I did not even know this furniture bank existed where they sell every piece of furniture for $35 no matter how fancy or humble. The purpose is for ones who cannot afford the Goodwill or Salvation Army prices but badly needed furniture could purchase; the proceeds are then used to secure even more pieces from yard sales or other events. How cool is that?

Well the furniture bank allowed this man to come in every Sat for people to make clothing only donations. He then with the help of friends goes directly to the homeless to give them fresh clothing, so they could have some dignity. One of the things he told me was contrary to what people want to believe to about the homeless, to justify the “of it ain’t happening to me” strategy, that there were plumbers, architects, college educated people out there who were licensed but could not get hired because they had no address. That was no previous history of drug/ alcohol abuse or mental illness.

The irony is I ran into the same gentleman today who was infuriated and decided to cancel out on gathering clothing for the homeless. His reasons to me was today when he went by apparently someone came needing workers. There were 45 homeless out there and only 4 accpeted the work. His attitude now is "let them fend for themselves. I won't help any more maybe they will get up and do something on their own". I understaood his anger & his passion, but he have the full story? And who was he doing it for? What was he getting out of it that now he decided that some di dnot do what he felt they should now lets cast them aside?

People never cease to amaze me.. This was lesson number four for me .If you are going to help, check out what your agenda is. Examine yourself to see what you are doing it for. If there are clauses, tell people what your clauses are. It is not fair to expect people to follow a policy or standard but not tell them what it is.

Personally, it was a reminder for me how fortunate I have been. My puzzlement is more of why they would be so fascinated with me to do these kinds of things, but I know it is not about me intellectually I know this, but sometimes one does not see the ambush coming. My prayer is that they not have to ever experience what I’ve been through, still go through that the deflection of “if it ain’t happening to me, it ain’t happening” strategy protects them from harm.

But the reality is sooner or later it will. But I am not so naïve as to think that somehow if and when it does, that all of a sudden they will have an epiphany & change their ways. It is not my job to take that responsibility on. A few will, most won’t, it is part of being flawed/imperfect.

And then Joplin, Missouri happened and all that stuff became trivial.

You cannot wring your hands and roll up your sleeves at the same time~

Polish proverb

Rippling... Never Underestimate how your Life Affects Others

2011-04-21T12:37:00.001-05:00

Never underestimate how things will ripple out. My dearest friend Karen's still continues to affect others in the most possible way. We celebrate & cherish what we had, still have. Another poet shared this with me this morning in her honoring Karen's memory...

For My Friend (In Memory of Karen Hurst: Friend to Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney)

By Dana L. Veach ©11

The creamy silk of lilies,

Gardenia’s spiced perfume

Are only pale reminders

Of the rareness of her bloom.

She gave through tears and laughter,

The vibrancy of life.

The world is darker, rougher now

Since she passed from my sight.

The air, how stale without her;

The light, how dim it’s grown.

My friend who shared a lifetime,

Before me, home has flown.

How can I share the wonder

Of knowing such a friend?

What she meant requires that self

and grief come to their end.

I’ll carry on in honor.

She’d want no less for me.

As fiercely as she filled my life,

Let me now live so free.

When she watches me from Heaven

May she cheer to watch me try,

With the strength she left, seize life-like her,

And milk its fullness dry.

Even The Sun Shed Tears: Karen Hurst Johnson 1952-2011

2011-04-21T11:06:00.002-05:00

Even the Sun Shed Tears

Karen Hurst Johnson

Karen fell asleep in death last night... She was a woman of somekind!

My heart ♥ goes out to her family...Isaiah 65-17-23.

Who will be my best friend now?

I can't breathe right now...

"And He will wipe every tear from their eyes & death will be no more, neither mourning nor outcry nor pain be any more. The former things will have passed away". Rev 21:3-4.

What a blessing is my friend...

In Memory of Karen Hurst Johnson

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney ©11

What a blessing is my friend!

Who listens to you...

And loves you...

Through thick and thin.

That patiently waits for you

As you go along through murky waters.

Angst, trials and trivails.

That sees your world...

Though enchanted eyes and marvel.

Such delight in such a friend!

Does such a one comes oft?

Not..

But when they do,

it can cleanse eons of desolation.

Friends like Karen...

Who themselves so cool.

From far away ...

And in the neighborhood.

Stretching her love...

To those who are out.

Not part of the in crowd

These who are not.

Just makes you want to shout!

The ones who are forgotten

Or no one who desires...

To know their hearts replete.

But Karen works through the mire...

And sees the jewel complete.

Simple and unpretentious...

She has no guile.

But deep, deep pools of wisdom.

And an amazing capacity to make one smile.

Despite all your sorrow.

What a blessing is my friend.

Who loves you through thick and thin.

My heartelt prayer to my God...

For permitting me

To see.

What is to be.

And what she gives...

Without question..

Without ridicule...

Without the requisite resume...

And background check...

That far too many demand.

Before love is given...

By command.

There is no pretense...

Flawed jewel that she is.

She is my friend ...

To the end.

And she sends...

Her love to you.

All rights reservedJHM©Blackberry Jam & Wine ,

Gardenias and Lilies For Karen

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney ©11

I have gardenias and lilies to enfold you…

And relish in fragrant clouds girdling us.

More composed then an early morn…

In the temples of Tunisia.

Or the cooling caverns of Carlsbad.

And more vivid then the complexions of Santiago…

Kuba…

At the zenith of Zaire.

So are my memories of that tempo…

While we were still at once…

My mind’s eye wanders and receives…

The heart expanse follows my North Star.

My yearning strains…

O Wandering Moon!

Splendid, glorious orbs emanating a sumptuous blaze!

On a backdrop…

So deep and rich.

While I desire to be…

I forget not.

Those twenty years of nights…

Of thine to me.

I kneel in Rosas Blanca…

Amidst a silky canopy.

Intertwined redolent reflections of gladness…

And long ago sadness.

To know my sorrow is to declare…

Missing you,

Missing you…

Missing you.

The flowers would weep…

Indeed!

For the life I threw away was one I needed to.

But not you…

Never you.

As my sojourn reconvenes…

I’ll take shards of you with me.

And leave crystal fragments of me behind.

O cultivates the fruits of your yearnings.

Placing the harvest in an urn…

Marking it Graceful Manners.

Please do recall in a special vase…

Having encased recollected musings.

Keeping it safe with supremeness…

And leniency…

In a vial of gardenias and lilies…

That will forever more,

Always reside with you.

Poetic License-Ralph Waldo Emerson 1802-1883

2011-04-20T10:09:00.000-05:00

Tact

By Ralph Waldo Emerson

What boots it, thy virtue,
What profit thy parts,
While one thing thou lackest,
The art of all arts!
The only credentials,
Passport to success,
Opens castle and parlor,
Address, man, Address.

The maiden in danger
Was saved by the swain,
His stout arm restored her
To Broadway again:

The maid would reward him,
Gay company come,
They laugh, she laughs with them,
He is moonstruck and dumb.

This clenches the bargain,
Sails out of the bay,
Gets the vote in the Senate,
Spite of Webster and Clay;

Has for genius no mercy,
For speeches no heed,
It lurks in the eyebeam,
It leaps to its deed.

Church, tavern, and market,
Bed and board it will sway;
It has no to-morrow,
It ends with to-day.

Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ok.. I Left It!

2011-04-20T09:04:00.000-05:00

OK,I Left It!

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney ©11

"It is my experience that when people say "what you see is what you get", they actually mean "I am narrow minded, rigid, smart ass and not willing to compromise, neither will I learn anything, I am all knowing and wise and I know better on every subject - take it or leave it!"....okie dokie, I will leave it"!~Ria Grobler,artist-South Africa

It was one of those morning when I arose very early, not out of fits of sleep but because I got enough sleep, so the synapses are working...

I figure I would get a jump start of several things that have to be completed by tomorrow some of which did not get accomplished yesterday due to other people not upholding their end of what they were suppose to do.

I warn you, this is not a rant. This is about leaving.

We have probably all have heard someone or even ourselves say something similar to "this is just how I am, take it or leave it"... Two things stand out ; the word "just" and "take it or leave it". The latter is said with some sense of pride or perhaps defiance as if they have now done something well. Has anyone ever thought that "just" may not be good enough? Not acceptable, minimize you? And the order to take or leave gives the invitee a choice, one that you may not like?

As in OK, I'll leave it. What or where you are (or I) is not acceptable for me. I would prefer not to be bothered with it. I no longer have any expectations you will do the right thing, but refuse to condone what is unacceptable. If it's working for you & apparently it must as you keep on doing it, but do I?

When it is we talking to me (my giving myself permission to minimize my awesomeness) it is a lazy co-op designed to allow me not to be awesome at least for today. Or even for a minute. It is usually F.E.A.R based (False Expectations Appearing Real). Can I do this? Can I change my health? Can I readjust my eating patterns? Can I dare to see myself as beloved & beautiful? Can I see other people as being humanely flawed as not having all the answers? That their thoughts are their own & does not necessarily reflect MY experiences or relevance? Can I disregard other people's opinion of me? Does their approval really matter as much as I have made it?

Can I be my best ally?

Can I?

Yes we can... It takes W.I.S.D.O.M (When I Seriously Decide On More). I cannot take credit for this, this nugget came from my son who decided (ah maturity is a wonderful thing) who decided he wanted more.

More not necessarily in a monetary way, but want more for his life, not from shrinkage from shirking what he knew he must do and working to that end.

In a number of discussion with a many a passionate people, I've come to notice (mind you this my experience) that some people are or can be bound & intent to make ensure that his view was it... the ultimate, case closed. Take it or leave it. Some of that comes from indeed passion, a singular vision, the belief that what they say is it, take or leave it... I appreciate seeing ones active in working toward an end that their vision until they become so adament that unless you submit to ti you will be slammed . Take it or leave it can be a wonderful suggestion to take under advisement...

So, I took it...

Then I left it...

I cite this example to say that while weighing all the "facts", passions & climate in which people become so narrow minded I/you/ we may decide that it not worthwhile, in fact counter-productive to continue any discussion or action we may take, then we or others may flex their collective muscle & take another action. Too often women are expected to conform too many times never daring to question, look at differently, do ably which was bad enough but we also have to be awe struck at the "they" wisdom.

Whomever the "they" may be...

I speak to as a woman. I do not have the feelings or thoughts of a man, so it would be presumptuous of me to speak to that, so I will help to save you the leap of judgement (unless you've already done it) to think I am being combative or speaking about men...

I am not.

I wasn't...

But it did indeed make me think about how the "take it or leave it" mindset can adversely affect people from being their full awesomeness. If you read any on others successes , the ones who have attained their goals or close to attainment, do not have the "take it or leave it" approach. There is enough flexibility & resiliency with a dash of humor as they look forward even when the misery of falling down happens.

Others, their words show more rigidity,a learned helplessness, a variation & continuation of "that's just the way I am" then wondering why the results they are looking for does not happen.

Well it won't.

Please know I am not sitting on a throne, condemning anyone about whatever approach they take. I am writing from a purely observational standpoint. In fact, I've done it myself. Yet , I do hold up a magnifying glass

to myself frequently applying to myself peering into whether or not I am applying W.I.S.D.O.M

(When I Seriously Decide On More)...

I have called myself into check with kindness for all my flawed awesomness. Some days are good, others even better, some days rotten, well maybe not rotten but not where I want it to be.

(OK that are my flaws talking).

Earlier in this blog I spoke of needing to get a jump start on some things I have to get done by tomorrow some of which needed to have been finished yesterday, but because of others not upholding their end of the bargain, so when it did not happen, I have to find another plan. Part of the plan was I left it!

I could have really grumble and rant but what good would that have done other then raised my blood pressure which would not be good. These ones had a take it or leave it posture & one is suppose to be alright with it.

Well I'm not. I will leave it, care of it myself. It threw today off for me but it is necessary that I care for it. So my sense is doing what they failed to do, I discovered a side benefit burnt extra calories, gaining a little more strength, getting it done, self-gratification in the results. Seeing it this way will keep me from grumbling wasting precious energy on rigidity. I leave it as I will know never to have any expectations from them to do what was right. They indeed said "take it or leave it", so it is prudent , necessary for me give the"take it or leave it" folks plenty of room, not be part of my package, my team of allies.

Houston, I left the building...

There will not be an army of farm animals coming to dine at the table after the little red hen did the work. They will not get to savor the fruits of my baking the bread. They will have to go find another table.

I have P.E.A.C.E ( Positive Energy Activating Constant Elevation).

So I took it & left...

All Rights ReservedJHM©11

Never miss an opportunity to make others happy, even if you have to leave them alone in order to do it. ~Author Unknown

Poetic License~Dr. Margaret Abagail Walker Alexander 1915-1998

2011-04-18T07:26:00.000-05:00

Southern Song

I want my body bathed again by southern suns, my soul
reclaimed again from southern land. I want to rest
again in southern fields, in grass and hay and clover
bloom; to lay my hand again upon the clay baked by a
southern sun, to touch the rain-soaked earth and smell
the smell of soil.

I want my rest unbroken in the fields of southern earth;
freedom to watch the corn wave silver in the sun and
mark the splashing of a brook, a pond with ducks and
frogs and count the clouds.

I want no mobs to wrench me from my southern rest; no
forms to take me in the night and burn my shack and
make for me a nightmare full of oil and flame.

I want my careless song to strike no minor key; no fiend to
stand between my body's soutnern song--the fusion of
the South, my body's song and me.

Dr. Margaret Walker

Love on Purpose~In My Own Words

2011-04-17T13:57:00.001-05:00

I came across these poems from 14 years ago in the first few years of my defining myself as an artist and as a woman. I was 45-ish or so when I started. When I reread I was thinking "Girl Power"" the awakening in a public way the sum of who I was becoming.

Funny thing is I was less in dimension then where I was to come from the standpoint of weight, but living a life in So. California where )not often in malice, there is a "women can only fit one module of size"/it it don't fit you must get equipped" mindset that is faux reality based insistence. Many would try to push off on me/you/others how THEY wanted to defined and and was going to cram it down my/ours/yours throat whether I/we/you wanted it or not.

I never believe it & the "punishment" was being meted out was if I/you/we if we would not conform i.e shrink means one can beat up on in subtle & not so subtle ways. One would be criticized,analyze, ostracize & then paralyze because one would not conform to a faux "norm".

Let me be the 1st to say it is not a California thing. Very rare will one can find anywhere nowadays where people aren't there to "help"; well-intentioned, sometimes misguided but not taking you into consideration before "helping".

In 1994 I wrote this poem when I gave "birth" to my Big City Women quilts:

Big City Woman

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney 94©

Grand, expansive, large, full, embodied, healthy huge, extraordinary, plus, substantial......

Are all the adjectives that others have politely used to describe my girth,
when they don't want to hurt my feelings...

How much more, I wish they would notice that those words apply more aptly,...

Though they would never admit it…

to my heard, spirit and stature.

Here I am quilts (above 1994) Below 1997

Now this poem went through several growths to this:

Big City Woman

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney©08

Brimming, bursting, embodied, expansive, extraordinary, full, grand, healthy.

Immense, laden, large, magnitude, healthy, huge, substantial, suffused, personified,

represents, replete...

Oh my goodness!

What a difference a word can make!

And it matters to me, when all been said and done...

Of what words you use when you speak of me.

It matters...

But not quite like what you think.

But it matters...

How you saw me or thought of me...

Was not my business?

Some of you claimed you were trying to "spare me"

Please!

Or you were concerned about my health...

Spare me!

Or were you sparing yourself of discomfort when you are in my air?

I thought I was a pretty groovy before you came along to "help".

Let just get on down and say what is on your mind, as I surely will tell you what is mine.

Let us just wipe out those tired wo' out trite and tired euphemisms.

Those "polite" ways to describe my girth...

When you try to find proper adjectives to contain my fullness and restrict me.

You claim you don't want to "hurt" me, you are only trying to "help"...

But did you ask me what help I needed.

Spare me and please I excuse your "help"...

That could be put to better use somewhere else.

There are many roads going to the same destination...

Mine are just more lushly cushioned for the parade.

I wrap my endowment in lace and my flashy red bra,

And my leather skirts, that yes, I dare to wear.

I didn't think I needed your permission to do it.

I can sway as graceful in silk and taffeta and finely woven linen as the Grande dame...

That I am.

But I command you and expect you to be more adept at the words you use.

Take those same words and describe the immenseness of my beauty...

The magnitude of my imagination...

My substantials wit and drive...

My intelligence suffused with humor...

And check out my extraordinary, brimming immense capacity to love & to be loved.

This is that Big City Woman that I adore to be!

5-30-08JHM©

I did not become especially enlighten in the 14 years that passed between the 1st draft & the last one; I was, however very wrapped up in the beauty that in 1994 was unfolding and now letting it shine.

This is the other one that showed my love was on purpose.

Passion

Passion en Deaux©95

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney©94

Proudly strutting in silver streaked slippers…
Dazzling emeralds with a verve and energy…
Illuminating the midnight sky showering her gifts that whoops and shouts….
Thrown about to the heavens, her pungent scents...
Of cinnamon, lemon of orange blossoms, creamy magnolia held too long in the dark…
It seems, an eternity.
Inspiring…
Coming unannounced heralding with splendor gold’s coppered grandeur…
With absolutely no delusions of what she will due.
The audacity!
Spilled heavy-laden liquid jasmine, this lagniappe Elle.
Imagine…
Walking accordingly with faith…
Things not yet beheld and proceeding with haste, not wavering.
Grasping her bounty.
Leap!
Big City Woman! Who are you?
Will you tarry awhile?

Or will you take leave quieter then you came?
“No my sister, I am here with you, for you and by you, for as long as you need me to.
I am you.

I will be called Passion…

My name is (fill in your name)

So much will come, while I am here.
I will tarry awhile to gather up the stars and sprinkle this confection generously to light up the way.
Until you are ready to take up this walk and talk your talk…
With silver streaked slippers illuminating a darkened sky.”
All rights reservedJHM 7-5-94©

Un Passion 1997©

Poetic License 'tis true..This true

2011-04-15T19:47:00.000-05:00

Boy I needed to read this today...

age 27

If We Only Understood

By Charles Taze Russell ©1912

Could we draw aside the curtains...
That surrounds each other's lives.
See the nakd heart and spirit...
Knows what spur the action gives.

Often we would find it better,
Puer than we judge we would.
We would love each other better,

If we only understood.
Could we judge all deeds by motive...
See the good and bad within.
Often we would love the sinner.
All the while we loathe the sin.
Could we know the powers working?
To o'erthrow intergrity.
We would judge each other's error.
With more patient charity.
If we knew the cares and trials...
Knew the effort all in vain?
And the bitter disappointments.
Understood the loss and gain.
Would the grim external roughness...
Seem, I wonder, just the same?
Would we help where we now hinder?
Would we pity where we blame?
Ah, we judge each other harshly...
Knowing not life's hidden force;
Knowing not the fount of action;
Is less turbid at it's source.
Seeing not amid the evil...
All the golden grains of good.
Oh, we love each other better.
If we only understood.

All rights reservedCTZ©12
From "Poems of Dawn"

Charles Russell 1909 age 57

Be Still My Heart-Charles & Trishaa's Anniversary

2011-04-14T23:11:00.001-05:00

Happy Anniversary.

April 14,2011

Be Still My Heart

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney © 01

Be still my heart...

lest I will chance.

Because romance has entered...

Took hold

simply, sweetly, completely

And wants to dance...

Speak to my eyes

what my heart cannot say....

Poetry is the promise of dreams,

a hint of what the Heartspeaks.

Insight of a grand sweetness.

A sweep of your hand across my brow.

Shining eyes that shimmer promises, not yet sung.

I longed for the warmth of your caress.

A glistening tear that crystal clear & speaks of our romance.

Soundlessly of my pain in your heart.

Kisses that move the heavens.

Shared memories of times long past.

Speak to my eyes what my heart cannot say..

Yet...

Breathlessly embracing

Sweet & sway,

that we dance to a tuneless melody that only your heart

Speaks to me...

Promises of what to come..

Yearned for.

That's found crystal glass

that my eyes hear and my heart has yet to say.

Be still my heart,

lest I will chance

Because romance has entered..

Took hold

and simply, sweetly, completely...

And wants to dance.

Poetic License~My Best Friend

2011-04-14T23:00:00.000-05:00

This afternoon trying to stay busy as not to cry again, I was looking through my catalog of poems trying to find one I had written 14 years ago on my other best friend Phylis who died in 2001.

I had a friend of mine who was trying to help a couple of months ago & accidently wiped out my hard drive we thought with all my manuscripts, art & poetry. Over the last few months I have painstakingly retrieved a few from various sources.

Well this afternoon I did something I had never done before and did a search on my desktop and two amazing things happen: 1. I found my manuscript, my poetry and 2 years of essays!

I've been copying them as quickly as I could when all of a sudden.. .

2. I found a poem that Karen had written back in 1982! I am sharing that with you today to honor my friend. Karen & I have done poetry readings before, she had been the voice, the narrator of my doc on Katrina. I am going to share it with her family when I put the quilt together for them...

Flight

By Karen F. Hurst ©82

When I was a child I believed I could fly

I told this to my mother who'd watch me and sigh

"Girl, you're a child, not a sparrow or a wren,"

Then she pause and say sternly, " Don't say that again"

The subject was closed, but I knew I was right.

I'd go to my room, close the door and take flight!

Later I'd tell her just how high I flew

She'd say,"You 're dreaming, dear." Ah! but I knew.

No, this is no dream, I'd cry to myself

As I flew from my bed to perch high on a shelf.

And I vovwed to myself that one day she'd see

What she thought was a bird in the sky would be me!

As I grew older, I forgot I had wings.

I was told to be "normal" to do "normal things"

The more normal I got, the more Mother smile

"You're a sensible girl, not flighty or wild

Dream dreams if you must, but to make them come true.

Be sure they make sense to those around you"

Now, thats good sound advice if you happen to be,

One who's not seen the world from the top of a tree.

But, I had tho' I knew no one'd believe

So I stayed on the ground and let my soul grieve.

I prayed tho' some day again I'd take flight

My flying now trapped inthe wings of the night.

The older I got, the more trapped I became

Like a bird who's been caught and who's wings had gone

lame

I convinced myself I'd imagined it all.

I couldn't fly, I"d do nothing but fall

My mother was right, I didn't have wings

I confined my spirit to sensible things

I did all the things I saw others do,

And didn't know why I was so sad & blue.

Its hard to be someone you know when you're not.

Deep down within, my poor spirit fought.

The wings of my soul beat hard on the cage'I soon found myself filled with bitterness's rage!

Just as I felt that I had been beat,

My spirit hung limp with the thought of defeat.

Just as I told myself I'd fly no more

A great hand touched my cage and opened the door!

The hand held two birds, two tiny white doves,

Both given to me with a great deal of love.

They looked up at me, large eyes filled with wonder

"Teach them to fly", said a voice filled like thunder

"But humans can't fly, is what Mother said....

If we cannot fly, then we'd rather be dead".

In shock and with fear, I looked into those eyes,

"Don't say that my darlings, I'll teach you to fly!"

We went to the top of a very high hill

All the earth seemed to stop, all greww very still.

"I've not flown for years," I tried to explain.

No excuse would do. It grew very plain.

I looked into those faces and then at the sky-

"God, if you're up there, please help me to fly"

I raised heavenward and then took flight!

What a glorious feeling! A wonderful sight!

I;d never again deny my soul's needs.

The cage door was open, I knew I'd been freed!

And I heard myself say, flying into the blue,

"God does answer prayers! Dreams do come true!"

Poetic License~ Deep calling to deep....My Turn in Time...

2011-04-13T11:18:00.004-05:00

A Call out for Information

I am hoping someone may know of a theater I believed was called the Jax (sp)Theater adjacent to Booker T Washington High School in the 1950's. If any pictures, a street name or anything will be appreciated. I know it had to be near S. Roman in Central City. Also I am trying to find the name of a movie theater in the Lower 9th Ward near Andry St & Alfred Lawless School in New Orleans.

Booker T Washington HS

Thank you JHM

I wrote these poems when I returned to La, not back to New Orleans but to a very tiny town that I did not know until time for me to leave that I was not even 30 minutes from the birthplace of my grandmother Sally born around 1885 & my mother born in 1914. I learned a lot in that one year some of which made me understand more of New Orleans or being in the South in general.

It also got me going on picking up where I had left off, developing the stories of my visual art into a compilation of short stories.

I was able to connect lots of threads not only in my personal family but as a general rule the cultural experiences relearning my life as a Southern woman with a definitive West Coast groove mired into my personal moxie. To say it was hard work would be a serious understatement but at the same time their was an almost psychic relief in unspoken why's I had not been successful in relieving before.

Yesterday I had an oppportunity to speak with my eldest sister who is technically old enough to be my mother who I met for the very 1st time when I was 15. I knew of her, but she was married had moved to California when I was a baby.

I learned a lot about my family through her recollections, filling in spaces I had not been able to not of lack of want and some heavy duty research, but there was still lots of unanswers...She was from my mother's first marriage so she was at an advantage of knowing my father while he courted & married my mother, to telling me about one great-grandmother who died the year I was born as well as my grandfather who died when I was barely 4. She also knew some of the other great-great grandparents.

Well lo & behold I now have names dating back to 1850's in a missing link/branch of the family, what my father did for a living before I was born (he was a projectionist for a movie theater in the 1940's after serving in WWII). It explains my early love of movies which the 1st one I had recollections of was Imitation of Life of which I wept for days afterward.

I now know MY grandson has an ancestor, a great-great-great-great grandfather that too bears his name of Isaiah & who was enslaved. He has a name & a last name & a marriage license to a woman name Laia with who he married post-emancipation.

Sale of John for $1150 circa1854:

Man with medals 1840:

Oh the irony of discovering this on the 150th anniversary of the Civil War!
Union soldiers 1860

My story today,however, is not about the Civil War or the criminal horrors of slavery.

It is about learning so much more about my family that were property owners, long marriages, long lives sacrifices, dreams some realized, many sabotaged. I am learning something about life long before I was a twinkle in my parents eyes.

I also because of my sister have addresses of where some of these famil members lived & the houses still exist. Thanks to Google map, I found my grandfather brother's home, my great-grandmother's home, even the neighborhood I spent some of my adolescence in. Amazing despite some of the minor "improvements", some of the pervasive landscaping that was there then 50 years ago sans the gravekl road now paved, it is still the same.

NOTE: I did not grow up in rural Louisiana. I grew up in the city, pre-Civil Rights when segregation reign supreme. I am from New Orleans, spent the tweener and early teen years in the state capital before going on to California. So no stereotypical assumptions, y'all. I had mixed emotions seeing some of the neighborhoods I knew as a child & going on into adolescence.

My sister is sending me of all things which I am going to have framed some left over WWII war ration books that belong to my grandparents still intact which I will have shadowboxed & some of my mothers clothes and jewelry which will be repurposed.

NOTE: My mother is still alive & kickin'. She will be 96 in June & still in her full mental capabilities. My family tends to live to the 90's & 100's yrs. It amused me for a moment that my sister was sending me some of my mother's clothes to wear when I am a whole foot taller then she, however I will make a quilt out of it.

So that is my story and here are the poems:

Coming Back South

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney©03

I came back South, not to pick wildflowers…
I came back not to see butterflies, clovers nor drink mint juleps.
I did not come back South for overly romantic, haunting reminiscing…
The mysteries that continue to tug at my heart.
Or to untangle the 19,228 yesterdays that laid up in the marshy soils.
And under the weeping willows or anchor itself in the marrow of faces…
Of ones who were not mercifully taken away from here.
I came back south to fathom the unbelievable…
The seemingly unreachable…
Persnickety tumbling on those back roads…
A paradigm on surface appearance seems to have no rhyme or reason.
I came back south to listen to wind sounds intertwined in trees at dusk.
And high moons at noon in June that shouldn’t be there.
Ancient winds of times blowing to unveil shield treasures…
To unfold secrets too many folks try to cover up, cover over
So for once we can all stop pretending
And that is why I came south.

All rights reserved JHM 3-24-03©

Coming Back South (Epilouge)

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney©03

And now I know…
Why things are as crazy as they are.

Folks just be a’moaning, just a’groaning…
Because they don’t know what they can’t see,
It can’t be my reality.

I ponder the paradox of a parasitic course.
Crushed souls crushing others into pulverized matter.
131,400 days of loathing.
And the monstrosity that grew, bathing all it came into contact with (even today).
Drenching everything and everybody that dared to be born.
Or challenge their right to live or perchance to dream.

Now I know the what’s…
And the why’d that you did to mothersfathersunclescousins and others.
Operating this carousel of delusions, a mirage for all the mismashed…
That was supposed to pass for living.
This is your reality.

Then the involuntary participants engaged themselves by becoming willing partners…
In this madcap twist.
Now I know what pounded all my days, all 18,245 (not counting leap years).
Folks just be a’moaning, just a groaning, ‘cause they don’t know what they can’t see.
It will not be my reality.

But watch those that have an elaborate scheme just putting on a show!
Pretending that everything is all right (when it ain’t).
And you go grazing through numbed motions feeding on the craziness.
If you must lie to the world, do not lie to yourself.
Folks just a’moaning…
Because they don’t know what they can’t see.

There is a life larger then this.
And you are larger then that!
Life is so plump and rich that it dares to swell you beyond capacity.
But will not delay or destroy all what you have to give.
See the doves flying over the valley of 1,000 hills, no longer crying
“I don’t know why, its too late, too late, too late”.
It will continue to be crazy as long as you want.
Folks be a’moaning, just a ‘groaning because they don’t know what they can’t see.
It is not my reality.

All rights reservedJHM6-16-03©

Potrait of a woman 1850

Poetic License: Licencia poética, Blanca Varela, poeta

2011-04-11T07:59:00.000-05:00

Currículum Profesional

By Blanca Varela

digamos que ganaste la carrera

y el premio era otra carrera

que no ganó la victoria bebida,

pero su propia sal

que nunca has oído los gritos,

sino ladridos

de los perros
y que tu sombra fue
su único competidor e injusto

Blanca Varela, poeta

Professional Résumé
By Blanca Varela

let's say that you won the race
and the prize was another race
that you didn't drink victory's win
but your own salt
that you never heard the cheers
and the dogs barking...

and that your shadow
was your sole
and unfair competitor

Blanca Varela, poeta

Translated by Michael L. Smith

Set the World on Fire~ Art & Humanity National Quilt Exhibition Kick-off

2011-04-10T21:25:00.003-05:00

City of North Charleston Cultural Arts Department

Setting the World on Fire~Phamtom Engima, photographer

North Charleston Arts Festival 5th Annual ART Quilt Exhibition presents

Arts & Humanity

The opening reception for the Art/Humanity Art Quilt Exhibition will be at 6 pm to 8:00pm May the 5th at North Charleston City Hall

“In art there is compassion, in compassion there is humanity, with humanity there is generosity and love”.~ Brock Peters

The Art/Humanity Art Quilt Show is a unique quilt and fiber art exhibition organized in a joint effort by Independent curator/master quilter Torreah “Cookie” Washington and the City of North Charleston Cultural Arts Department.

This exhibition was established to provide a venue for sage art quilters and emerging art quilters who see the connection between Art and Humanity. Art/Humanity will explore themes of Art, humanity, compassion, service, generosity, and love. This year artists were asked to explore “what do these concepts mean to us as art quilters?” The Quilts are all original creations of the artists.

This year for the first time we are excited to include several pieces of wearable art from some of the top wearable artists in the field. Rachel DK Clark, Barbra McCraw, and I.B.Bayo will have art coats on exhibition this year.

“Curating this year has be a great joy and absolutely awesome. Each quilt and garment is as breath taking as the next. Visitors to the North Charleston Arts Festival are in for a feast for the eyes. We are celebrating our fifth year as part of the North Charleston Arts Festival and this really is the best yet" ~ Cookie Washington, Master Quilter,curator.

Also as part of the City of North Charleston’s Arts Festival’s 5th Annual Art Quilt Exhibition we are presenting “Quilts You Wear, Clothing for the Body and Soul.”

The addition of a fashion show by sage art quilter and fashion designer Rachel DK Clark is an honor." I think this will fill the whole left in the tri-county’s fashion calendar when the Ebony Fashion Fair ceased production two years ago.
This show features the original and inspired designs by Rachel D. K. Clark and is filled with the visual excitement of wearable art".

In this fashion show/lecture Rachel will be showing over 25 coats, vests and capes representing a wide variety of styles from casual to elegant. She’ll showcase ethnic and ethnic-influenced garments in a contemporary manner. Many garments in this show are based on a particular culture or influenced by a particular culture. The unique designs, colors and interesting techniques make each of Rachel's garments an unforgettable masterpiece.

This fashion show lasts approx. 2 hours.
Tickets are $20 and $25 the day of the show.

Call the North Charleston Cultural Arts Department
@ 843 740 5852 for tickets.
Reserve Now! Seating is limited.

Rachel D.K. Clark

Rachael Clark wearable art:

Rachel D.K. Clark is a contemporary folk artist, teacher and lecturer who come from a long line of sewers, beginning with her great-grandmother. She has been doing wearable art since 1973 and teaching on the national circuit since 1990. Eclectic fabric mixes, vibrant designs, and a keen sense of humor characterize Rachel’s work.
While her garments and quilts can be whimsical, political or a personal statement it always reflects her love of traditional quilt making. She has done many one-woman shows around the country and her work has been featured in various gallery shows, magazines such as Threads, and “The Quilting Quarterly” on HGTV’s Simply Quilts.

Barbara McCraw

Barbara McCraw is a retired Medical Technologist now working as a fiber artist. She has sixteen years of experience, teaches classes, and lectures with her partner, Teresa Sherling. Her works have been shown in local and national galleries and universities. She is a multiple ribbon winner in the Masters Category at Dallas Quilt Shows, and her quilts have been juried into the American and International Quilt Shows. She was the subject of a CBS human interest story, featured in several newspaper stories, and recently featured in a documentary created by the University of North Texas Radio and Film department.

"Three Wishes" quilt

"Leslie Rose" quilt:

“The Gospel Truth” & “Piano Dancing” 2 of her art coats that will be part of our exhibition as well...

• Chosen for exhibit Kansas City African American Museum

• Chosen for art exhibit at Tarrant County College, Texas

Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney

Visual Poet

Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney, a native of New Orleans, is a visual poet, came about her artistic happenings with daydreams, coloring books and doll houses creating contemporary quilted textile collages. Her works are in numerous exhibitions housed in both private & corporate collections including Oprah Winfrey, the Hon. William Jefferson Clinton, George H. Bush Sr., Bill Gates Sr., Drs Bill & Camille Cosby, Johnnetta Betsch Cole, Maya Angelou, Danny Glover, Baroness Valerie Amos & others. Her poem “Sing a Song for N’Awlins” will be in the 2011 release of the book "Hurricane Katrina: A Poetic Commemorative" by Miriam Chitiga (University Press).

Jacquelyn’s popular If Jazz was a Color? Visual series have been featured at the American Jazz Museum, the Contemporary Art Center, Buttonwood Art Space, Kemper Gallery, Villa Treme Museum, Museum of Apparel, Textile & Interior Design; the River Road African American Museum and the Autry Museum of Western Heritage among others. A variety of periodicals & books have highlighted Ms. Mooney's work such as Business Weekly, Emerge, More, New Orleans Magazine, Essence, Spirit in the Cloth, Black Threads, A Communion in the Spirit and others. She has enjoyed a number of corporate commissions including Exxon Mobile, Johnson Baby Products, Genentech, Food Lion & other. Ms. Mooney has appeared on NBC’s Today Show, the Bev Smith Show, Minority Business Report. She is a storyteller, published poet, lecturer & workshop presenter.

Kemper Gallery, Manhatten, Ks

www.iiammoon.blogspot.com

Arianne King-Comer

Indigo Artist

Arianne King Comer, a BFA graduate of Howard University, has been an Artist in Residence on the Old Navy Base in North Charleston, SC since 06.

In 1992, Arianne received the UN/USIS grant to study under the renowned Batik artist Nike Olyani Davis in Oshogbo Nigeria, where her passion for indigo manifested.

She was owner of Ibile Indigo House on St Helena House '98-04. In 2007, she had the opportunity to join The Charleston Rhizome Collective to conduct a textile workshop in batik and indigo at the World Social Forum in Nairobi, Kenya.

Arianne has also traveled to Istanbul, Turkey, where she designed boutique denim wear for Mavi Jeans.

In 1999, she was featured in the PBS documentary, "Messengers of the Spirit," and in 2003 was featured in an Indigo Art segment on HGTV's "Country Style," which is still in syndication.

Arianne is an art consultant, lecturer, teacher, and textile artist.

Arianne's batik quilt

Adebayo Agbelekale

I.B.Bayo

Born in Osogbo, Osun State, Nigeria, the ninth generation of a traditional weaving family, Bayo [pronounced Bio] learned his trade at an early age from generations of cloth artisans. Affectionately known as IBB.

Bayo adapts his reverse appliqué and quilting techniques to American styled jackets and vests. He combines the hand woven; hand dyed, and embroidered fabrics made by his family in Nigeria with other fabrics to create the uniquely designed clothing in his I.B.Bayo line. He also teaches Nigerian Batik and Reverse Appliqué workshops, and gives presentations on his family history showing clothing that spans from past generations to modern creations.

Website address: www.ibbayo.com/bio.html

Poetic License~ Emily Dickerson

2011-04-10T20:52:00.000-05:00

Besides the Autumn poets sing
by Emily Dickinson

Besides the Autumn poets sing,
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze -

A few incisive mornings -
A few Ascetic eves -
Gone - Mr Bryant's "Golden Rod" -
And Mr Thomson's "sheaves."

Still, is the bustle in the brook -
Sealed are the spicy valves -
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The eyes of many Elves -

Perhaps a squirrel may remain -
My sentiments to share -
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind -
Thy windy will to bea

Ms.Emily Dickerson

Poetic License~Alice Walker

2011-04-09T22:43:00.000-05:00

Gray

I have a friend
who is turning gray,
not just her hair,
and I do not know
why this is so.

Is it a lack of vitamin E
pantothenic acid, or B-12?
Or is it from being frantic
and alone?

'How long does it take you to love someone?'
I ask her.
'A hot second,' she replies.
'And how long do you love them?'
'Oh, anywhere up to several months.'
'And how long does it take you
to get over loving them?'
'Three weeks,' she said, 'tops.'

Did I mention I am also
turning gray?
It is because I adore this woman
who thinks of love
in this way.

Ms. Alice Walker,poet