2. You’d be surprised how many times you can fit “phase two in which Doris gets her oats” into a conversation.

3.  Sign seen on Facebook: Senators should wear uniform like NASCAR drivers so we could identify their corporate sponsors.

4. I think saying that there’s absolutely no link between the rise in autism and vaccination is like believing there were weapons of mass destruction (in spite of the lack of evidence) because that’s what the party line was saying.

5. THESE fur-lined flip flops are an oxymoron.

6. What’s the difference between graffiti and ancient cave drawings?

7. “The people who run our cities don’t understand graffiti because they think nothing has the right to exist unless it makes a profit. The people who truly deface our neighborhoods are the companies that scrawl giant slogans across buildings and buses trying to make us feel inadequate unless we buy their stuff.   Any advertisement in public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours, it belongs to you, it’s yours to take, rearrange and reuse. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head…” Banksy

8.  Like a painter has a favorite model, the moon is my favorite poetic subject.

9. When I go to trainings or long meeting, I like to bring pens so I can doodle. I did it long before discovering that studies have shown that doodling helps you pay attention.

10. Me to my grandson Bryce (son of the boy pictured above): “Do you know anyone who smokes?” Bryce: “Yeah, that dog” (from the nursery rhyme Old Mother Hubbard HERE).

11. Found bathroom graffiti: Happiness can’t buy money, Death is hereditary, Graffiti should be obscene and not heard, “Fighting for peace is like having sex for virginity.”

12.  “Things could be better. They could also be worse. These cancel each other out. Things are simply things.” ~ My Dharmacratic friend Will

13. I’m with Maxine when she says, “My idea of a super bowl is a toilet bowl that cleans itself.”

More 13 Thursday bloggers HERE.

Capsized moon

stranded in a sea of blue

floats like a buoy to the shore

from the deep end of the day

_____________Colleen Redman____

 More dVerse poets sharing an open link pub HERE.

I was often homesick for my home and family in Massachusetts while living in Texas for the first five years of the 80’s, but I came to love my first husband’s family, who relocated there during the construction boom, and so I have fond memories of those times and that place where my children were born.

When we moved to Virginia in 1985 we were looking to homestead and for home-schooling support.  We found an instant sense of tribe with the back-to-the-land transplants (alter-natives) who came before us.  Recently, while scanning photographs of the 80’s for the 30^th anniversary of the Blue Mountain School, the independent school where my sons went and where I taught creative writing for years, I was reminded of the strength of community here in Floyd and the longtime bonds that we share.

I named the photo scanning project “Old School,” but it soon became much more than a retrospective on Blue Mountain School. In an effort to save a collection of photos, I scanned a dozen-or-so photos from each of my hardcopy photo albums (which are falling apart) to tell the story of those early years building community in Floyd. Like the scratch of old album on a turntable, the photos have scratches and specks where the paper has already started to decompose, which gives me a sense of satisfaction to see them being preserved digitally (at least until the next technology comes along).

Old School also tells the story of family. I was touched to see how times my parents had visited over the years (my mother is now disabled and my father passed away in 2005). Siblings and their children also came, as well as my sons’ paternal grandparents. And we visited all of them. There was the yearly Labor Day cook-out in Massachusetts, where we stayed on the peninsula of my hometown, along with trips back to Texas for the Renaissance Faire and to see my brother Danny, who followed me there in the late 70’s when he was looking to make a new start.    

Two days later, I’m hung over from scanning, but I’m enjoying clicking through the images I’ve collected and noticing more and more details.  It’s amazing to me that the scanned pictures look better and bigger than the pre-4×6 originals. And the cross section of comments the old photos have received on Facebook have caused my worlds collide in a good way.   Soon, I will start on an early 1990’s pre-digital series. I’ll probably call it “Phase Two in which Doris Gets Her Oats.”

After that, like a Star Wars Trilogy, I’ll go backwards to the beginning and scan what I can.

The black-and-white photograph series documents what life was like in East Germany under Soviet rule, which occurred for four decades following the end of WWII.  The exhibit was shown at the Virginia Museum for Fine Arts in Richmond and throughout the region from 1994 to 2009 as part of the museum’s Traveling Museum and Media Services.  In 2009 the large crates of photographs were delivered to Chichester’s mother in Roanoke.  Page Chichester, who grew up in Culpeper, currently lives in Germany, as does Brinkman, a German native.  “We’ve known it was available.  It was a matter of scheduling it in,” said Lee Chichester about the exhibit.  

The opening reception, which is scheduled from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. on the 4^th, is creating a buzz of interest around the center and beyond.  It will feature traditional German refreshments and a gallery talk by Floyd Countians Barbara and Clemens von Claparede, West Germany natives. The von Claparedes will reflect on their memories of the Berlin Wall and discuss how it affected their lives.

Tom Freudenthal will also be on hand at the gallery talk, which will begin at 2:30.  “He was a newspaper editor in Berlin during the waning days of the wall,” said Jacksonville Center executive director, John McEnhill.

Holding up a photograph taken by Brinkman of children chiseling away at the wall, Chichester explained that everyone on both sides of the wall took part in chipping it away before heavy equipment demolished it. Chunks of the wall were sold as souvenirs and some of it was saved for museum purposes.  “Barbara has a piece she plans on bringing,” Chichester said.

The exhibit photographs reveal how far behind the time of the world that East Germany had fallen, Chichester said. “It was like time had not moved forward at all since the 1950’s.”  Describing the East Germans from the stories her brother told of his photo journey, she said the authorities were unwelcoming and suspicious, but the people were wonderful.

“They were really excited about having access to a whole world that they had been deprived of, but they were also concerned.  There were a lot of adjustments on both sides of the wall that had to be made for reunification.” Challenges were related to the communist indoctrination of East Germans and the wide economic gap between the east and the west, Chichester explained.  “It’s only been recently that Germany is beginning to feel like one nation again.”

Chichester noted that the exhibit experience is enhanced by her brother’s narrative and her sister-in-law Katharina’s perspective, which is outlined as a travelogue/dialogue in a 20 page catalog that will be available at the showing.  Their narratives add context to the striking images, Chichester said.  “As a German from West Berlin, Katharina remembers when the wall went up and what life was like.”

The concrete wall, completed in 1961, was built to stop emigration from East Berlin into West Berlin. “It divided families, a nation, political ideology and infrastructure,” Chichester said.  She described “No Man’s Land,” the space between two walls where East Germans attempting escape would be tripped up by mines and wire and shot by guards in towers.  “It’s important for us to remember,” Chichester added, referring to the expression, ‘if you don’t remember your history, you’ll be doomed to repeat it.’

Barbara von Claparede explained how Berlin, the nation’s capital, was an island surrounded by East Germany territory. She recalled the fear she felt traveling with her family through strict check points at the East Germany border to visit her grandmother in West Berlin. Visits were strictly timed and West German families were thoroughly searched.  “They went through every tiny thing in our backpack while we were standing out in the cold.  I can’t even describe the fear,” von Claparede said about one particularly tense border crossing when her grandmother was dying.

Von Claparede remembers her family putting together yearly packages of coffee, flour, lard and chocolate (only allowed items) and sending them to East Germans they didn’t know.  “Everytime we drove through the east zone we had packages of chocolate wrapped in newspaper. When we passed through bridges we could see East German kids standing on the bridges and we threw the chocolates out and could see the kids running down to get them.  It was all in secret. If the Stasi (the East Germany ministry for State Security) saw it, we’d be busted.”

Back home in West Germany, von Claprede, like other German children, was not taught about Hitler in school.  “It was taboo,” she said.   The lack of public acknowledgement of WWII history, coupled with the horrific stories her parents told of Hitler’s reign, made the Berlin Wall even more scary and confusing for von Claprede as a child.

Jacksonville Center gallery coordinator, Lore Deighan, says that having the von Claparede’s input will personalize the exhibit experience for her and bring a better understanding of that time in history and the emotional impact it had on those who experienced it.   “It captures a time and place that is very different for me,” she said.

McEnhill is so excited about the reception that he worked his vacation around it, to assure that he could attend.  Recognizing the historic importance of the exhibit, he plans to notifty schools and encourage school groups to attend.  He sees the exhibit as a welcome addition to the center’s gallery programming.   “This show is the start of an exciting change in the gallery program.  I encourage the community to keep an eye on the Hayloft Gallery exhibits this year. They’ll be something for everyone,” he said.              ~ Colleen Redman

The above first appeared in The Floyd Press newspaper on January 26, 2012.

Practice Run

How is this Done?

The Run Around

We All Fall Down

The Static Cling of Fling

_________________________

Shadow Shot Sunday

Last night the moon looked like a Mona Lisa smile with Venus as the unblinking part of a wink.

2. A crow goes sledding HERE. You have to see it to believe it.

3. Seen on Facebook next to a picture of Gingrich:  Family Values – Using daughters from your first wife to convince everyone that your second wife is lying about your third wife.

4. His name makes me think of the Grinch of rich. My friend Alwyn says he looks like Caesar and we should beware of his aspirations for empire.

5. Speaking of Rome, my dharmacratic friend Will recently posted on Facebook: “Romantic love is just the bait the soul covers its hook with.”  When someone questioned his post in a comment he replied:  “I’m a barbarian who is suspicious of anything connected with Rome.”

6. Last night the moon looked like a Mona Lisa smile with Venus as the unblinking part of a wink.

7. I have a painting I bought directly from an artist named Shelton Miles when I lived in Texas. He signed all his painting SMiles.

8. The picture above is of my son Josh (right) and his friend Kamal putting on a play at Blue Mountain School back in the day.   It’s part of a series of photos I’ve been scanning for the school’s upcoming 30^th year anniversary.

9. My grandson Bryce used to cry when the butter on his bagel melted.  His 15 month old brother Liam cries when we pop corn on the stovetop.  (It makes a lot of noise and sometimes the cover pops off).

10. “Take the money we’re no longer spending at war, use half of it to pay down our debt, and use the rest to do some nation-building right here at home.”  ~ Quote from Obama’s State of the Union speech last night. More quotes HERE.

11. I had a dream about the copperhead I killed in the fall.  In the dream it morphed into a Native American woman in buckskin who, after appearing, disappeared into the log walls of my home. I remember thinking I didn’t have to or want to kill her but would have to learn how to live cautiously with her. In the dream I made everyone put shoes on.  The next morning when I woke up, I looked at the floor before putting my feet down.

12. It’s so hard to be in the present, rather than worrying about the future or trying to recreate something pleasant from the past, which is the reason I wrote THIS poem

13. Quote seen on Facebook: worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.

~ More playing 13 Thursday HERE.

The blue afternoon sky was like a NASCAR race track full of white smoky trails.    By evening there were lots of comments on Facebook reporting everything from the aura borealis to chemtrails. My neighbor called at sunset and told me to go look because there was a strange glowing triangle hanging low. I caught a glimpse through my lens (between the trees) before the color drenched shapes faded, dusk descended and the mystery was wiped away.

Another highlight of the Ketch and Critter show at the Floyd Country Store last weekend was the deep dish home-made apple pie that I had during intermission. It was so good, heated and served with vanilla ice cream that I stopped to get another slice to-go when I was in town on Sunday dropping off my weekend houseguest to her foster-care family. The pie wasn’t the only thing I found I was interested in. There was a game of Scrabble going on in the booth near the checkout counter, and it brought back a hunger for the game. I haven’t played in awhile and would have invited myself to sit down, since they had only two words on the board, but I had a car full of groceries.

Thanks to Mike and Eileen for posing for this shot. I promised Mike that I wouldn’t put it on youtube.

I try not to put demands on the day

or dictate my thoughts

I don’t want the first thing I remember

to be the last thing I worried about last night

I make a choice to wake up

or fall back to sleep

Fragmented dreams

offer no depth of meaning

to fill the surrounding silence

I look out the window

remember the poetry of a gray day

I think about my favorite box of Yorkshire Gold tea

and how it is almost empty

_______________________

~ Colleen Redman 1/22/12

Note: The above title is borrowed from a question posed by poet David Whyte and is the title of a poem he wrote.   More dVerse poetry HERE.

There’s still time to see the 7th Annual Youth & Student Art Exhibit at the Jacksonville Center for the Arts. The show, which showcases the talent and creativity of the youth in the Floyd community, is up until January 28.  Blue Mountain and Floyd County Schools are well represented. Winter hours at the center are Monday – Friday 10 a.m. – 3 p.m. and Saturday 11 a.m. – 4 p.m.

2. On the same night I laughed uncontrollably watching an 80 year old woman punk a young man at an airport with an offer to get together in flight for a “high mile” club rendezvous. It was one of the candid camera like pranks on Betty White’s new show “Off Their Rockers.” You should have seen the look on the guy’s face.

3. Speaking of guys, a few new country names I discovered while reading the local obituaries are Venston, Bitley, Histon, Ezess and Worth.

4. The old mountain names are fascinating to me, like today’s hippie names, they seem completely made up.  Woman’s names I’ve recently come across are Fressie, Villie, Arnilla, Ezma, Drema and Treecie. God bless them.

5. After hearing about the youtube clips of S*it Girls Say, I discovered some on S*it No One Says, which I liked even better with lines like Twilight deserves an Oscar, My bazooka gum still has flavor, I miss my dial-up, I just have too much money and The Beatles suck.

6. Of course the Beatles don’t suck and neither did the five-star music duo performance we saw at the Floyd Country Store Sunday night.  Ketch Secor and Critter Fuqua are old-time revivalists from Virginia and two of the founding members of the famed Old Crow Medicine Show. They play what I think of as “contemporary traditional” music (I know, it’s an oxymoron). The also have a knack for comedy. They premiered a nearly finished song about hillbilly robots, called Hillybillybot, and they spun some really good yarns. HERE they are doing the band’s signature song that has gone gold.

7. Because I got a front row seat at the concert I was able to capture THIS, my son’s girlfriend volunteer to go on stage and do a slow polka with champion flat-footer Rick Sutphin.

8. THIS banjo player from the Hackensaw Boys (far right in picture four with blue shirt) stayed at my house with my son and others from Asheville who came to hear the show.

9. Only in Floyd can you be out helping a friend with disabilities collect litter and run into a neighbor who jumps out of her car, pulls out her banjo and plays you a song in the middle of the road. See the picture HERE.

20. HERE is the beach version of 13 Thursday’s Front Row Seats.

11. On two occasions in my life I’ve come across completely naked people having sex, once on the beach and once at a summer solstice gathering.

12. At least I have never come across a dead body like my blog friend Naomi at Here in the Hills.

13. What would you want a front row seat to?

Thirteen Thursday

What can I say? They’re hippie, hick, old-time, hobo troubadour and a little punk all at once.  They’ve played their Appalachian fiddle tunes, folk songs and jug band blues at the Grand Ole Opry, on Austin City Limits, Late Night with Conan and Prairie Home Companion. They opened for Dolly Parton, were personally invited by Doc Watson to do Merlefest and their song Wagon Wheel recently went gold.

I’m talking about Old Crow Medicine Show, the old-time revivalist string band whose founding members (two of them) played a sold-out show at The Floyd Country Sunday night.  Ketch Secor and Critter Fuqua first began playing together in Harrisonburg Virginia when they were 7^th grade.  The show, which included ballads and reels, comedy and storytelling, heart and soul songwriting on relevant topics and flat-footing on stage was part of a limited celebration reunion tour, since founding member Critter Fuqua had recently rejoined the band.   I can’t remember when I’d been so entertained and so inspired by the revelation of “contemporary traditional” music making.  ~ Story coming in The Floyd Press this week.

January:  Stuffy nose.  New purple robe. Warm weather repose.  I’m planted on the porch like a seed craving sun with my weekend writings, a juxtaposition between the very real possibility of uranium mining in Virginia and sustainability through local food movement in Floyd.

February: A dialogue circle is a microcosm of the larger circles of family, community and world.  In circle, we each bring a piece to the woven living art of conversation.  But is it the right piece? Is it true? How does my piece affect others?

March: I’m the kind of person who likes carrot cake more than chocolate and Motown more than rap.

 April: In my bright turquoise crocs that someone left at Joe’s sister’s beach house and my dirty green gardening shorts, I walked with my weekend houseguest down our long gravel driveway singing “in your Easter bonnet with all the frills upon it,” stopping first to pull down a branch of an apple tree and sniffing the rose scented blossom.

May: Here at our Getaway in the Outer Banks of North Carolina mailboxes are shaped like whales and dolphins and oversized crabs, mermaids, and flip flops are stapled to the sides of houses.

 June: My husband Joe’s workaholic nature has taken a toll. He’s promised to change his ways and I think the fact that he bought an adjustable lounge chair and a blow-up bed over the Memorial Day weekend is a good start.

 July:  The Moon gets top billing / in a black tie night / In a star studded ballroom / it shines a high note of light

August: These days I have to chase the sun further out into the yard to warm myself in the morning. There is barely a petal of purple left on my butterfly bush and my bare feet are covered with socks. I can’t tell the difference between cricket and grasshopper song, but I wonder when did they drown out the birdsong and what sound will I hear after they are silenced.

 September:  When I woke up Sunday morning after going out dancing two nights in a row and saw the wrist band around my wrist, I thought for a split second that maybe I’d been in the hospital.

October: Sometimes I get nostalgic for my pink suede bell bottom pants and the maroon Indian print bag with the mirrors on it / or the gypsy scarf that I wore as a shawl and sold at a yard sale in Texas because we had to stuff everything we owned into one U-haul trailer when we moved to Virginia in 1985.

November: This year’s Thanksgiving season began with the traditional ‘over the river and through the woods’ drive to Zephyr Farm (1 mile) where my son Josh, my husband and I had turkey with all the fixins, including my friend Jayn’s award winning mock mince meat pie that I wait for all year long.

December: Walking on the rows of our garden like an astronaut looking for life on the moon, I discover a few volunteer kale plants that have survived the morning frost.  I transplant them into the cold frame, pick a batch of remay-covered Swiss chard and harvest what’s left of the parsnips with a shovel, soaking and scrubbing their long muddy tubers in water.

Red and Ready.

Mighty Shakey played at the UBAN dance benefit to Keep the Ban on Uranium mining in VA at Dogtown/Sun Music Hall in Floyd. Watch a Shadow Shot Sunday video HERE  a blues number  HERE and Michael and Kari Kovick singing Michael’s new song about clean water HERE.

Laurelsong Cook Staengl communed with nature by painting it.   Her large-as-life vibrant acrylic and watercolor paintings of marine life, wildlife and people “call forth the energies of healing and spirit,” said the artist, who passed away at her home on Winter Solstice Eve, December 21, 2011.

Laurelsong began painting before she could walk.  Her mother was an abstract expressionist and portrait artist from Manhattan during the Soho art scene of the early 60’s.  Her father was a theater producer and director who produced Sam Shepherd’s first plays in the Bowery of New York.

Growing up in Manhattan, Laurelsong participated in her mother’s art classes at an early age.  She lived in England as a teenager and studied watercolor, mechanical drawing, Chinese watercolors and life drawing at Laney College in Oakland, California.

In search of a healthy place to raise and school her two children, Laurelsong relocated to Floyd from California after receiving a tip from a New Yorker with ties to Floyd.  She arrived more than 20 years ago and quickly became active in Floyd’s independent Blue Mountain School as a parent and board member. She taught art and made jewelry.  Trained in several healing art traditions, Laurelsong was able to integrate her body work practice into her art.   “I believe that art can heal our bodies and minds.  Looking at art can touch our souls and color can vibrate us to a peaceful state,” she wrote in an artist’s bio.

Laurelsong’s husband Luke Staengl is a Blue Mountain School co-founder.  Although he and Laurelsong had known each other for many years, they reconnected on the dance floor at Floydfest when Laurelsong was visiting from Hawaii, where she lived for several years.   It was in Hawaii that her painting fully took off.   Inspired by the ocean, she painted on the beach, hoping that her seascapes would stir people to take better care of the ocean and its inhabitants.

Laurelsong and Luke were married on the Winter Solstice six years ago.  Re-grounded back in the mountains and supported to paint full-time, Laurelsong’s art blossomed further and she began adding wildlife, farm scenes and portraits to her body of work.   

During the six years of their marriage she and Luke traveled all over the world, including to the Middle East, India, Vietnam, Guatemala and Puerto Rico. Most of their trips were related to Luke’s business, PESCO-BEAM Environmental Solutions, an international company based in Roanoke that supplies environmental equipment and systems for recycling everything from acetone to xylene and motor oil.

During their travels the couple rode on camels and visited a Roman coliseum and other archeological sites, such Petra, an ancient city in Jordan carved into rock. Laurelsong painted throughout their travels and enjoyed supporting indigenous people by purchasing local artifacts and goods, Luke recalled.

Described by her daughter, Onyia Cook Pemberton, as “the most compassionate person I know,” Laurelsong had always been interested in living in community with others.   Together, she and Luke founded Anahata, an intentional Floyd community focused on renewable energy and permaculture. Anahata’s non-profit Anahata Education Center was formed in 2007 to provide ecologically focused service, learning, teaching, and research and development opportunities.

In early 2010 Laurelsong opened the StarSong gallery at the Station in downtown Floyd, where she exhibited and sold her original works and reproductions and could often be seen working on a new painting.

“People love her work. They’re especially drawn to the dolphins and manatees,” said Deborah Carrino, a local artist who does custom design tile painting for showrooms across the country.  Carrino began staffing the StarSong gallery on Friday afternoons after Laurelsong’s diagnosis of ovarian cancer in the summer of 2011.  The gallery will remain open through the month of January on Friday afternoons, Saturdays and by appointment so that art lovers, collectors and friends can view and purchase Laurelsong’s art, Carrino said.

During Laurelsong’s illness, her daughter, Onyia, left her young twins in the care of their father on a couple of occasions and traveled from her home in Portland, Oregon, to be with her mother and help with her care.  Laurelsong’s son, Orion Ridella, moved into the family home in Floyd and became one of his mother’s primary caregivers, along with Luke and members of the Anahata community.  Laurelsong was also cared for by hospice and members of the larger community, who signed up to take overnight care giving shifts.

It was appropriate that Laurelsong was on the receiving end of so much care after giving so much to others over the years, Luke remarked about her last months.   “Her entire being was focused towards helping and healing others – and expressing her love for the world and its beings through her art,” he said.    ~ Colleen Redman

 Note:  The StarSong Gallery will remain open through the month of January on Friday afternoons from 3 to 8, Saturdays during the day and by appointment.  Laurelsong’s artwork can also be viewed at her website: geocities.com/laurelsong2/.   The majority of photos above were taken at the gallery and include a photo of Deborah and Luke.   The last photo is of Laurelsong, pictured with her work at her Cafe del Sol art opening  in 2007.

2. Interesting that as the globe is literally heating up and the people on it are heating up too, protesting injustices here and worldwide.

3. If tingle is a quieter version of jingle, is tangle less mangled than jangle?

4. I like to lie about my age by a year to give it some buffering time.

5. With neuroscience, we can confirm what our ancestors took for granted—that letting babies get distressed is a practice that can damage children and their relational capacities in many ways for the long term. We know now that leaving babies to cry is a good way to make a less intelligent, less healthy but more anxious, uncooperative and alienated person who can pass the same or worse traits on to the next generation. More at Dangers of Crying it Out, Psychology Today HERE.

6. It had to happen sooner or later. While googling where I live, Floyd Virginia, I came across a blog by a woman named Virginia Floyd.

7. I’ve loved fat since I was a little girl and a friend asked me what I had for supper and I answered “fat.” Turns out “Fat is Where It’s At.”  See why HERE.

8. Love makes the world go round. It revolves, evolves and resolves to solve (which is basically a statement using all the same word with the letters moved around).

9. Best use of the word EVOLVE HERE.

10. When I was growing up a flip was a popular hairstyle, bump was a dance, fink was the word for geek and neat was what came before cool.

11. Flip also meant giving someone lip.

12. Today’s soundtrack HERE.

13. The year 2011 in 2 ½ minutes HERE.

The Thirteen Thursday Hub is HERE.

Wordless Wednesday

The moon smokes clouds

by the sun’s stricken match

Stars rush like sparks

from her moody bowl of ash

Some say the sun is vain

to admire its own reflection

at the moon’s nightstand table

for so long

________________________

~ More dVerse poets sharing HERE.

She told me not to stand too close or talk too fast, asked me to wash her toothbrushes and explained how to pour just the right amount of maple syrup for her meds, making sure I scraped the side of the spoon on the glass container so it wouldn’t drip and aimed any broken pills away from her mouth so the jagged edges didn’t hurt as they went down.

I apologized when, while trying to comb out the mat of hair on the back of her head, I accidentally bumped her sensitive skin.  The following week when Joe and I returned for our overnight shift, I made sure that my nails were clipped.

I reminded her of her generosity.  She had forgotten that when we first met she taught me to make hoop earrings that I sold at my friend’s bead shop. Later, she offered to do body work on me. She knew I had issues with chronic fatigue.   I think she called it “angel work.”  I never made the time.   I wasn’t sure I believed it, or maybe I felt I didn’t have the money to pay her if she needed it.

She asked me to look for her dog Dobbins, but I couldn’t find him.  He wasn’t in the laundry room where she thought he would be. Later that night, as I was drifting off to sleep on a mat on the floor next to her bed, I could hear the nearby tapping of Dobbins’ tail on the hardwood floor.

In the morning I wasn’t able to say goodbye because she was sleeping when I left. The week before that when I told her goodbye, she said, “I won’t blame you if you never come back.”   “It’s a privilege to be here. I’ll be back.”  I answered and then made a joke about the strong bond that’s formed after you sleep with someone.  She laughed and I kissed her.

She was dying but still held out hope for healing.  I felt clumsy, like a bull in her butterfly presence.  I liked to remember how excited she was when she stopped me in town before she got sick and invited me into her new art gallery and how beautiful she looked at her summer solstice wedding six years before.

At her memorial celebration last night, there was laughter, storytelling, dancing and singing.  It was odd to see the sunroom she died in filled with friends around a table of homemade desserts. I was standing on the porch with a group of woman talking about her and feeling that she was listening when I realized that Dobbins was standing beside me, tapping his tail against the side of my leg.

Shadow Shot Sunday

It’s been nearly a year since a group of Pittsylvania County residents traveled to Floyd County to give a power point presentation, alerting local residents about Virginia Uranium Inc.’s intent to mine and mill uranium in Virginia for use in the production of nuclear power. A reported 119 million pounds of uranium – worth as much as $10 billion is at stake for the company, which consists of Virginia investors, Canadian partners and land owners of the property in Pittsylvania County where the mining site is proposed.

Concerned about the radioactive waste associated with uranium mining and its risk to drinking water, human health, farmland, property values and tourism, a group of Floyd citizens formed UBAN, a grassroots organization named for the goal of keeping a 30 year statewide ban on uranium mining in place.

Throughout the year UBAN members have partnered with other Virginia groups to educate people on the issue. Members have staffed educational booths at festivals, hosted benefits, collected petition signatures, attended local and regional meetings and voiced their concerns to their representatives.

“Other countries are pulling away from nuclear power,” said UBAN member Anne Armistead. Since the nuclear power plant disaster in Japan the price of uranium in the global market has fallen, she reports. “Studies have shown that solar is already cheaper than nuclear.”

Armistead’s fear is that if the ban is lifted and uranium mining is allowed, it will ruin Virginia’s economy. “How many companies will leave if this happens? Who’s going to want to relocate here other than another dirty mining company?” she asked. “Clean water is our biggest asset to future jobs. Even the perception of such a dirty industry around dairy farms will have a negative effect.”

“Property values near the proposed site have already gone down,” said UBAN member Michael Kovick. Kovick recently contacted his insurance agent to ask about coverage for water contamination. There is none, he was told.

UBAN member Cheri Chalfant pointed out that Pittsylvania County is only 50 miles as the crow flies from Floyd. “We need to reach out to every person we know in this state. They need to let their delegates know that our water is more important than uranium.” She noted that full scale uranium mining has never been done in the east where floods and hurricanes would make the spread of toxic materials more likely.

Uranium mining and milling has been known to increase birth defects and cancer, particularly in those who live near the mines. The mining industry’s safety record in the past has not been good, Armistead said. “Church Rock in New Mexico is the biggest radioactive release disaster in this country. It was worse than Three Mile Island, but you don’t hear much about it.” A waste water storage system in Church Rock failed and radioactive water was released in 1979.

The National Academy of Science recently released its highly anticipated 22-month review on uranium mining. The report did not make any recommendations on the ban but pointed to “steep hurdles” that mining prospectors would have to overcome. It also highlighted the difficulty of storing radioactive waste for thousands of years, considering Virginia’s climate, geology and population.

UBAN members agree that, because the problem of permanent storage of the radioactive waste has not been solved, uranium mining can not be considered safe even if it is heavily regulated. “When they dredge up this low grade ore it will take 2,000 pounds to get 4 pounds of yellowcake. That leaves 1,996 pounds of toxic waste on the ground,” Kovick explained. “Some of it is released as particles into the air and it’s processed with water. That toxic water has to be stored. Everyone’s asking can you mine safely, but the real question is ‘how are you going to store the radioactive waste for 100,000 years?’ There is no way. Every facility breaks down in 50 years or so and is vulnerable to storms.”

UBAN members are unanimously concerned that Virginia Uranium, Inc., a well-financed and politically connected company that currently employs 14 lobbyists, will drown out the public voice and push for a General Assembly vote on lifting the ban before it can be thoroughly reviewed. Another concern is that if the ban is lifted land throughout the Appalachian Mountain chain, where uranium deposits are believed to be, will be open to mining.

Kovick refers to the rush to mine and mill uranium in Virginia as “irresponsible and irrational.” “On the one hand they are pushing this by talking about putting regulations in place. On the other hand they have lobbyists in D.C. trying to shut down any regulations that are here to protect the public right now. They’re speaking out of both sides of their mouth.”

A by-donation “Keep the Ban” benefit dance concert is planned for Thursday, January 12 at 7:30 p.m. at Dogtown Roadhouse. Along with the scheduled music entertainment, Mighty Shakey and the RockuPyers, organizers plan to host an information table and have a guest speaker. They hope to inspire others to attend a Keep the Ban Lobby Day, hosted by the conservation community in Richmond on January 23rd. Mary Rafferty, a Sierra Club organizer and UBAN resource from Richmond, says the event will involve a morning workshop on lobbying, followed by a trip to the capitol to meet with legislators.

“This is our one chance. If people take one day out of their life to do this one thing and we make enough of a showing, we can have an impact and stop this.” Kovick urged.    ~ Colleen Redman

Post notes: UBAN members Michael Kovick, Anne Armistead and Cheri Chalfant are pictured at a meet-up at the upcoming benefit dance concert venue, Dogtown Roadhouse. Read the article I wrote for Natural Awakenings magazine on how the “Risks Outweigh the Benefits” HERE and a more recent excellent commentary in the Roanoke Times HERE. More information can be found at keeptheban.org.

1. Tingle and jingle not only rhyme, they mean close to the same thing, only a tingle is less loud than jingle.

2. Things that make me curse: when I fix a fresh cup of tea on my way out, put on the floorboard of my car, and it spills before I have a chance to take a sip.

3. In the north we say “swear” instead curse or cuss.

4. I recently woke up thinking that I’d like to wear more dresses this year. Does that qualify for a New Year’s Resolution?

5. My friend Jayn made me my own mock mince meat pie for Christmas, which I’ve been enjoying a little bit of each day.  I especially enjoy the crust because I can see her pressed fingerprints around the edges, making the gift such a personal sharing.

6. Listening to the poetry and the wisdom of David Whyte on living a meaningful life, recorded on a six CD series call What to Remember When Waking, is like going church for me.

7. When Whyte reads his poetry, he frequently repeats the lines twice, like I listen to his poems and repeat the lines by rewinding so I can write them down.

8. I just watched the movie Larry Crowne and can’t believe how much Tom Hanks is starting to look like Walter Matthau. His humor is similar too.  He’s the Walter Matthau of his generation.

9. If you look at THIS for a full minute, I guarantee you’ll be spooked.

10. I went to Times Square on New Year’s sometime in the 70’s and thought it was overrated.  This year I saw a news clip of the mess after everyone went home and thought that would be more interesting to me (to see and photograph) then being stuck in a mob that I couldn’t see beyond.

11. In an article about writing poetry, Wendy Cope says: “I find that the most important and helpful question to ask myself when I’m working on a poem is “Am I telling the truth?” T. S. Eliot said that the greatest difficulty for a poet is to distinguish between “what one really feels and what one would like to feel”.”~ From She Writes.

12. Stars are like snowflakes that rarely fall, like pinholes in the world’s fabric that make me want to know the light on the other side.

13. “Create a sense of spaciousness around your approach to life, which involves allowing the unconscious to be itself without constantly try to convert it into names which would be too small for what is about to occur . A good relationship with the unknown is just as important as the pointers.  ~ David Whyte

Thirteen Thursday headquarters HERE.

The Wind in the Willows, the latest Young Actors Co-op (YAC) production, played to sold-out crowds with a November 26^th Saturday matinee and evening performances Sunday, Monday and Tuesday at the Sun Music Hall.

The play was YAC’s first auditioned production and featured veteran YAC actors, two of whom have been with the community theater troupe since its inception in 2005, said YAC founder/director Rose McCutchan.

Written by Kenneth Grahame in 1908 as bedtime stories to his son, The Wind in the Willows is a classic story that focuses on the adventures of four main animal characters that possess human qualities.   Level-headed Rat, who spends his time boating and reading books, is played by 15 year old Marsden Woddail.  Rat befriends Mole, played by 17 year old Coriander Woodruff, who goes through a transformation from meek to confident.

Rat and Mole join forces with a sternly wise Badger, played commandingly by 16 year old Bethlehem Cherrix. Together the trio helps their boastful friend Toad, whose latest fascination with motor cars (which he ultimately crashes) has landed him in jail. Ian Gammarino gives a memorable performance as toad with dramatic antics and physical comedy that frequently draws laughter from children and adults in the audience.  

With set designs that depict the English countryside on the banks of a river, the play runs about 90 minutes and has as many as 20 set changes, including one for a combat scene between the four friends and a gang of weasels and ferrets, led by the Chief Weasel, who is played by Floyd County High School senior William Yearout.  The combat scene was practiced in YAC rehearsals under the direction of Paul Rycik, an experienced stage combat teacher.

The play also includes two dance scenes, including one with Rat and Mole that takes place after the characters were drawn into the woods by an enchanting tune.  Rat and Mole have a fleeting visitation with an antlered being, representing Pan.  The alluring music, which returns later in the play, was composed by Woodruff and Woddail and gives a mystical underpinning that enriches the story.   Local dancers, Leia Jones and Reida Brown, helped with the dance choreography during play practice.

The set designs, lighting (including one lightening storm), the English accented deliveries, make-up and detailed costumes added to the entertainment.  Moveable set panels were made by McCuthan’s husband Haden Polseno-Hensley and painted by YAC parents.  Toad’s motorcar was built by YAC parent Patricia Woodruff out of a salvaged filing cabinet and two ironing boards.   Furs were borrowed from Charlotte Atkin’s vintage clothing collection.  Animal and human costumes were made by YAC parents Dr. Sue Osborn and Heather Spangler.

Parent and community involvement is an integral part of the success of YAC, which produces one or more theater productions per year and is funded by program ads, ticket sales, and private donors.  The Wind in the Willows program, listing the bios of actors, stage hands and lighting apprentice, thanked local sponsors, the actors (who practiced for months) and YAC parents for their supportive efforts.  “YAC would not exist without them,” McCutchan’s letter from the director read.     Colleen Redman

Note: A movie trailer for Wind in the Willows, created by Pat Woodruff, can be viewed HERE.  Search “YAC Wind in the Willows” at youtube.com for video clips of the play, like THIS one.