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“Quality of Life, Spirit of Place”

 

Vermont Views Magazine

Home Page

New Features, Articles & Columns


Special Feature

Blues on Beale

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

Their Finest

Lawrence Klepp


As I Please

The Langlois Bridge at Arles, 1888

Charles Monette


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Rights and privileges 

Jeri Rose


Guest Article

Early Volley

F.C. Lawrence


Open Mind

Does Lifestyle Matter more than Race?

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

Robin in the rain

Elizabeth Hill


As I Please

Bansky

Robert Oeser


The First Glass

Luck

Vincent Panella


Vermont Diary

Change of Season


Selected Letters

Immigrants in Vermont

Philip B. Scott, Governor


Old Lady Blog

The language I speak

is a language of grief

Toni Ortner


As I Please

Homage to Milton Avery

Elizabeth Hill


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Tarnished Gold

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Other voices

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

Elle

Lawrence Klepp


An A-musing Life

The Great Exodus-Salamanders and Passover Crossings

Nanci Bern


An A-musing Life

One Sip at a Time

Nanci Bern


Love In Action

This Land

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

The British Aren’t Coming — Alas


Open Mind

But The Goalposts Keep Moving!

Offie Wortham


Meanderings

‘Beware the ides of March’

Charles Monette


Write On!

Grey Tower

Phil Innes


The First Glass

Writing like a Painter

Vincent Panella


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Racism vs Sexism

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Ice floes slow

Charles Monette


Urban Naturalist

The Sanctuary in Late Winter:

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

— part 2 —

Lloyd Graf


Love In Action

Mein Yertle

Elizabeth Hill


SCREENplay

Lion

Lawrence Klepp


Urban Naturalist

The Sanctuary in Late Winter:

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

— part 1 —

Lloyd Graf


100 Years Ago

Births Jan-Jun 1917


With Prejudice

With Prejudice — 4 topics

Elizabeth Hill


O Citoyen!

Four Pennies

Robert Oeser


With Prejudice

Flesh of My Flesh:  Reflections on Prejudice & Love

Shanta Lee Gander


With Prejudice

Finding America

Vincent Panella


Story Page

Matinicus The Marvelous Cat

MM Kizi


Meanderings

White as Snow

Charles Monette


Love In Action

People Power in Pink

Elizabeth Hill


Open Mind

Populism

Offie Wortham


Meanderings

White Buffalo in the Sky

Charles Monette


Monkey’s Cloak

Venus Smiled

Charles Monette


An A-musing Life

A resolute spirit

Nanci Bern


StudioTWO

The Owens


The First Glass

For the Birds

Vincent Panella


Chess

“The Mating Game”

Phil Innes


Overheard

Literacy

part 1, the USA


Love In Action

New Year’s Reflections on

“Charlotte’s Web”

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Spiritual Theft in the

Year of the Monkey


SCREENplay

Manchester by the Sea

Lawrence Klepp


Meanderings

White Mountain

Charles Monette


The First Glass

San Diego, Ocean Beach – November 17, 2016

Vincent Panella


SCREENplay

Allied

Lawrence Klepp


Monkey’s Cloak

Oh, Holidays

Nanci Bern


Old Lady Blog

Gone/ All Gone

Toni Ortner


An A-musing Life

Mushroom Soup with John

Nanci Bern


in between

FEAR

Julia Ferarri


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Racism vs Sexism

Jeri Rose


Meanderings

Last leaves leaving

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Braveheart

Elizabeth Hill


Urban Naturalist

Hogle in Fall:

a Subdued Sanctuary Hunkers Down for Winter

Lloyd Graf


Vermont Diary

Quality of Life


An A-musing Life

11/12 and Counting

Nanci Bern


World & US Energy News

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

George Harvey


Meanderings

As if

Charles Monette


Open Mind

What Will Become Of The Trump Faithful?

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

Clouds

Charles Monette


Write On!

Castle Dor


Vermont Diary

Words or Deeds


SCREENplay

Sully

Lawrence Klepp


Love In Action

Living in the Twilight Zone

Elizabeth Hill


100 Years Ago

Births

in 1916


Chess

Susan Polgar:

Little Known Feminist Icon

Alicia Colon


Natural Inclusivity

What is ‘Natural’ Science?

Alan Rayner


Meanderings

Evil frog monsters

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

The Girl on the Train

Lawrence Klepp


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Who Sleeps Daily in S.C.?

&

S.C. City Council

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Why just now

Charles Monette


in between

After a Fire Puja

Julia Ferarri


Vermont Diary

Out of the closet


Old Lady Blog

LESBOS, GREECE

Toni Ortner


The First Glass

Journal Entry –

October 3, 2016

Vincent Panella


Meanderings

Another way up

Black Mountain

Charles Monette


SCREENplay

The Light Between Oceans

Lawrence Klepp


Love In Action

Déjà Vu at Asteroid Chasm

Elizabeth Hill


SCREENplay

Café Society

Lawrence Klepp


An A-musing Life

A Snow Bunny in Summer

Nanci Bern


Meanderings

The mountain was soft

Charles Monette


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Malaise

Jeri Rose


Meanderings

Black Mountain

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Out of time


The First Glass

Who Art In : Moment : Youth

Vincent Panella


Urban Naturalist

THE HOGLE PANORAMA

Lloyd Graf


Love In Action

The Pony Man

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Lots of words to it


Monkey’s Cloak

Beyond the pale

Charles Monette


Monkey’s Cloak

North York Moods

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

‘Bridestones’


Love In Action

“The Missionary of Water”

Dr. Masaru Emoto

Elizabeth Hill


Selected Letters

Marbles

Offie Wortham


Old Lady Blog

from a forthcoming work...

Toni Ortner


in between

A QUIET RAIN FALLS

Julia Ferarri


Open Mind

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

Offie Wortham


An A-musing Life

Frost in the Summer

Nanci Bern


Vermont Diary

Birthday boy


Love In Action

Neptune and Jupiter

Elizabeth Hill


Monkey’s Cloak

North York Moods

A series of poems

by Alan Rayner, part 5

Howard’s Castle


Selected Letters

In Memoriam

Dorothy M. Rice, 1919 - 2016


Open Mind

Malcolm and Ali

Offie Wortham


Vermont Diary

SHOCK of the Present


Open Mind

Can we bite the bullet until after November?

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

SHAVUOT

Nanci Bern


Monkey’s Cloak

five directions, five fingers, five roots

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

US Politics for Forns from Yurp [part deux]


Monkey’s Cloak

UP NORTH

Phil Innes


Write On!

Women of the Mounds

Charles Monette


Open Mind

Colleges where your child can earn a Degree for Free

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

SEND IN THE CLOWNS

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

Ticks and Tourism


World & US Energy News

Just one day’s news

in early May

George Harvey


Old Lady Blog

Lights out or the weather of the apocalypse

Toni Ortner


Write On!

Daniel Berrigan

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Over the Mountain


Love In Action

The First Lady of the World

Elizabeth Hill


Monkey’s Cloak

May I

Charles Monette


Vermont Diary

Is the experiment with republics now over?


Post Oil Solutions

Tipping Point

Tim Stevenson


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

“How Drumpf wins”

Jeri Rose


Vermont Diary

WEIRD WYOMING — A LETTER TO ENGLAND


OVERHEARD

O say can you see...

A test severe of on-line language translators


Vermont Diary

QUINTISH


Love In Action

THE DANCING FOOLS

Elizabeth Hill


REAL FOOD !

Parsnip Soup


Vermont Diary

PC, Euphemisms, including death and toilets


Urban Naturalist

AMPHIBIANS AND OTHER CRITTERS COPE WITH EQUINOCTAL CONFUSION

Lloyd Graf


Selected Letters

Tennessee Tensions

Rob Mitchell


Vermont Diary

Couple pointers

for President Trump


Old Lady Blog

Call from a Scientologist friend

Toni Ortner


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

The Hinge of Perception

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Bird of transcendence

Matti Salminen


Vermont Diary

FLIGHT PATH OPTIONS


Monkey’s Cloak

Tibetan dream song

Charles Monette


in between

One hundred and twenty six years

Julia Ferarri


CURIOUS TOPICS

Gull Summit — Prime Minister concerned over Hitchcockian behavior


View From A Bridge

Golgonooza

Brian D. Cohen


Love In Action

SUMMER, 1947

Elizabeth Hill


Weekly Feature

In conversation with

Archer Mayor


Overheard

“REVENANT”

Which turns out to be very old


Overheard

Honkie Dilemma

A quiz


100 Years Ago

Major Literary Events


Monkey’s Cloak

Einstein’s Eyes

Charles Monette


Chess

The Silence of the Pawns

Paul Truong


100 Years Ago

A chronological overview of the year 1916


Natural Inclusivity

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

Alan Rayner


Vermont Diary

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


Write On!

Faery Stories 6,000 years old


World & US Energy News

Just one day’s news

in early February

George Harvey


Vermont Diary

Paint, peeling; plus more news of White Men


Monkey’s Cloak

Momentarily

Charles Monette


Love In Action

HOME

Elizabeth Hill


Urban Naturalist

Season of the Fox [part 3 of 3]

Lloyd Graf


in between

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

Julia Ferarri


CURIOUS TOPICS

No screaming — we are the police!


Open Mind

“Who would Dr. King support in 2016?”

Offie Wortham


Monkey’s Cloak

Entering a moonlit forest

Charles Monette


Chess

Saudi’s, Satan and so on


Vermont Diary

The British Aren’t Coming


World & US Energy News

Just one days news in the life of the planet

George Harvey


CURIOUS TOPICS

We shouldn’t laugh


Selected Letters

Robert Oeser with Fire Chief Mike Bucossi


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Attempts at Transport

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

What Do We Want?

Jeri Rose


Monkey’s Cloak

Awoke in the starless hour

Charles Monette


CURIOUS TOPICS

All washed up — Global trash


Monkey’s Cloak

Okay, we’ve looked there

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Reflections on Grandpa Ross Turning The House

Elizabeth Hill


Vermont Diary

A strange accounting


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

Inklings of Immortality

Jeri Rose


Curious Topics

Raining Cats and Dogs

& Jack the Psycho Rabbit


Vermont Diary

Come to think of it


Vermont Diary

Notes from underground


An A-musing Life

The Hebrew Month of Kislev and Chanukah

Nanci Bern


Old Lady Blog

Omyra Sanchez

Toni Ortner


REAL FOOD !

Secret History of the Pasty


Monkey’s Cloak

Looking back dark

Charles Monette


Love In Action

Dear England, Please Send Me A Redheaded Boy

Elizabeth Hill


Write On!

Castle Freeman, Jr. 

The Devil in the Valley.

A review by Laura C. Stevenson


Vermont Diary

Hunger’s Ground-Zero

in Our Town


Monkey’s Cloak

The Back-up Bird

Charles Monette


Guest Article

The Angels of Reinca

A Compleat Graphic Novel Story

M.M. Kizi


Chess

Madonna vs. Julia Roberts

and other matches


Vermont Diary

On Aggression


Write On!

Singing with Bobby Fischer

Patti Smith


Urban Naturalist

Introducing...

Lloyd Graf


Selected Letters

Qi Gong on Black Mountain

Ken Masters


Old Lady Blog

Strike out

Toni Ortner


Love in Action

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

Elizabeth Hill


An A-musing Life

Draped in Time

Nanci Bern


Open Mind

The New Israel

Offie Wortham


Love In Action

Boy With Many Hats

Elizabeth Hill


OVERHEARD

Have no truck with


An A-musing Life

A Penne for your thoughts

Nanci Bern


Vermont Diary

Something wonderful just happened


Archetypal Hippie Speaks

The Incense of magic

Jeri Rose


Chess

Review of The Immortal Game: A history of chess

Lawrence Klepp


in between

Developing trust

Julia Ferarri


Love In Action

The Language of Form

Elizabeth Hill


Studio3

Strolling with Bernie

Photographic Essay





Vermont Views Magazine


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






Contact the magazine HERE


Major Sponsors


Vermont Artisan Designs

Brattleboro Food Coop

Delectable Mountain Cloth

Emerson’s Furniture

Friends of the Sun

Zephyr Designs

Neil Taylor

"The Blind Masseur"

 

In Passing

publisher’s notes

on current contributions

with extracts





Charles Monette

Blues on Beale

Special Feature




Participants are invited to comment on a painting or other image they like.


Here’s how it came to be.  It was mid-October, 2009, and I had flown to Memphis to attend my first, 1st Air Cav reunion… meeting up with a bunch of guys that I’d been in Nam with 39 years ago.   About 100 grunts from Charlie Companies gone by were hooking up for a weekend of memories, beer, war stories… meeting the wives.   Tree, one of the organizers of the reunion, had booked the Radisson in Memphis, Tennessee for the festivities.  


I wasn’t much for these types of ‘get-togethers’.  After an afternoon of seeing the guys, laugh and surprise, stories of glories, I was getting antsy.  I wanted to leave the grunts and strike out on my own.


Friday afternoon, I wanted to be on Beale Street.   Then I’d visit Graceland in the morning.  I asked the hotel gal who was greeting smiling strangers at her desk if she could call me a cab.  She said it didn’t work that way, and gave me a number to order up a car.   I dialed.  A southern lady sweetly answered and said, “Mr. Joseph will be right over… please wait out front.”


It was a hot Indian summer day in Memphis, humidity uncomfortable out of the air.   Leaning back against an entry column, I opened two Trident spearmint gums to cool off, relaxing by chewing into the hazy steaming sky. 


Mr. Joseph promptly pulled up, motioned me to get in and sit up front.  He was driving a silver Oldsmobile 88 and it was gleaming!  Mister Joseph, dapper-dignified, tie and fedora, gave me a smile, and asked, “Where do you wanna go young fella?


“Can you take me to Beale Street, the home of the blues?”


Read on >>>>



Lawrence Klepp

Their Finest

SCREENplay




One of the things Great Britain was surely fighting for in World War II, aside from its own survival and the fate of Western Civilization, was the incomparable cultural tradition known as British humor. No country has been richer in humor—in comic novels, in whimsical nonsense of the Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll and P.G. Wodehouse sort, or the Goon Show and Monty Python sort—while “German humor,” for instance, is not a phrase that leaps to mind. So it is fitting that Their Finest extracts engaging humor from a story with an intrusively somber background, the darkest days of the war in the winter of 1940-41, when Britain stood alone against the Nazis and the Blitz was reducing sections of London to rubble.


A young Welsh woman named Catrin Cole (Gemma Arterton) has moved to London to be with her lover, a struggling painter named Ellis (Jack Huston) who lives in a canvas-cluttered garret. Needing to pay their rent, she takes a job with a unit of the British Ministry of Information that is turning out inspiring war movies to keep British morale up. The job initially is to write “the slop,” as her cynical screenwriting colleague Tom (Sam Claflin) calls the sentimental dialogue aimed at women in the audiences. The unit’s boss, delectably played by Richard E. Grant, offers her two pounds a week, much less than her mainly male colleagues are getting.


The movie unit wants to make a film about civilian participation in the evacuation of the British army from Dunkirk. Catrin goes out to the coast and finds twin sisters who had gone out on their uncle’s boat as part of the motley flotilla. The problem is that they never got to Dunkirk. The engine quit, and they turned back. One major part of the film’s light-touch comedy is the way a satisfying fictional version is hammered out of the uncooperative facts at breakneck speed, in story conferences and late-night sessions with the typewriters. It’s as amusing and revealing an account of moviemaking inspiration and desperation as any Hollywood behind-the-scenes movie. And in the process Catrin becomes the writer that the whole project depends on

Read on>>>>




Charles Monette

The Langlois Bridge at Arles, 1888

As I Please




Participants are invited to comment on a painting or other image they like.


Van Gogh painted the Langlois Bridge at Arles with oils 4 times, made two drawings, a watercolor, and a sketch.  Long a favorite of mine, I recently researched how this painting came to be.


While working and studying in The Hague, Vincent had built a perspective frame.  This enabled him to create a more precise proportion of items near in relation to those faraway.  The symmetry and balance depicted in this painting are harmonious,  grounded, the colors light, the lines simple and elegant. 


The Langlois Bridge at Arles, 1888 is a beautiful reflection of Japonisme, the influence of Japanese art on western art.  In 1867, there was a World’s Fair in Paris and Japanese art was very popular.   Ukiyo-e, Japanese wood block prints, caught the eyes and became a source of inspiration for the impressionists.  Monet, Degas, Gaugin, Toulouse Lautrec and Van Gogh marveled at the works of master landscape printmaker, Ando Hiroshige.


Vincent bought Japanese prints to decorate the walls of his studio, becoming an avid collector of more than 400 prints.  In his study and assimilation of Japanese art, he was struck by Ando’s seeing from a different vantage point and his distinctive compositional strategy.  The flat decorative aspect of Japanese art differed greatly from Vincent’s heavy impasto strokes, yet he recognized beauty in ukiyo-e, copied it, blended it into his own.


He told Theo, “I want to use colors that compliment each other, that cause each other to shine brilliantly.”  Complimenting the Japanese, he said, “ I envy the Japanese, the extreme clarity of everything in their work.  It is never dull and it never seems to be done in too much of a hurry.  Their work is as simple as breathing”


In Van Gogh’s bridge, we can see his understanding of the functional aesthetic...


Read on >>>>



Jeri Rose

Rights and privileges 

Archetypal Hippie Speaks





<extract> Personally, I chafe at government telling me how to be healthy. As a doctor, I know that most people do not take responsibility to do what is required to avoid becoming a medical statistic. Extreme surgeries that replace organs damaged by the food and smoking habits of the people are prohibitively expensive and the drugs that people are enjoined to use to alleviate pain and other symptoms are likewise beyond the reach of the average person.


Stifling competition is antithetical to the rights we are guaranteed. The AMA has grabbed the government for the money to continue its power and funnels all to its administration of health care. Those who offer alternatives like chiropractic, acupuncture and homeopathy have difficulty getting paid by insurance and therefore have to charge less and even that less is unattractive when someone can get medical care for free under insurance and governmental assistance to the poor.


The problem is intensified by where one draws the line. I have a friend who runs a business. He works every day even though he is passed retirement age. He can not support a raise in minimum wage and a health care insurance, disability and unemployment insurance and ninety days of sick leave that Bernie proposes. He voted for Trump.   

 

We can not flourish with Trump because he is the epitome of greed and self-interest. Bernie is correct to point out that Trump has reneged on his promises to the people. Trump is all about privilege. Bernie’s solution of rights can counter what we presently are struggling under, but from what I know of human nature, executing them also leads to abuse that will cause an overload of the system. As a nation we have to take responsibility for enacting the right of pursuing happiness. Pursuit means action and that right means our own work unhindered by the greed of the privileged.



Read on >>>>




F.C. Lawrence

Early Volley

Guest Article




 It must have been the fall of ‘53, I had a three day pass and come up from Ft.Dix Over-seas Replacement Center to the city to see a blond

I knew, but by evening was walking up West Broadway, way uptown, looking for some jazz joint. In those days live bands or “combos" were all over town, not yet replaced by rock & roll or crooners. There were just a few instruments, usually a horn, piano, bass, and whatever else could be got, maybe a singer.


   I almost passed an old brownstone, no doubt once a residence but then a rooming-house, at least upstairs. There where many in those

days, the post-war housing boom hadn’t much then  sprawled out into rural life. In front of the brownstone a sandwich-board gave notice:

“Jass Combo Inside” -- no names listed, and then in smaller print: “with singer”


   I went up the front steps, and inside, followed tacked up paper arrows left. I entered a large, wood-paneled, double living room with

the old separating doors removed and sat down at one of those small, blacktop formica tables with the 10 watt lamp centered to see your drinks, a set-up found in many city lounges. The room was dark and the

little band on a short stage faced less than a dozen patrons. It was already whining away at some old chestnut. After a couple of numbers,

the players sat back, sipped their own drinks, and didn't stir until a slight female figure came in from the shadows and stepped up to the

little stage, the singer I sup-posed. There were a few whispers between her and the players and then a dim light lit the stage, only a

bit better than before.


  Earlier that day on the bus to the city, I’d read in the papers some ugly news about a Klan lynching somewhere in the South I’d only left a

few days previous. It’d been an eye-opener for me to see the old social stratas still operating whenever, as a young yankee G.I., I’d

venture into some small southern town in search of entertainment, mainly jazz. Being from Gloucester, I hadn’t thought much about racial matters or the possibility of lynching anyone other than stringing up to our fishing schooner’s yardarm my wicked skipper, or our bad cook


But right then I was just weary from Ft.Gordon signal training, train travel from Dix, and apprehensive about being posted next for duty in Korea.


Read On Here >>>



Offie Wortham

Does Lifestyle Matter more than Race?

Open Mind




 

          Is a person’s lifestyle more important than their ethnicity or race in determining how successful they will be in achieving some form of happiness and success in their life? Too many people are failing to consider this important question because they cannot see or understand society beyond racial terms.


     There are certain standards and patterns of behavior in our society that are admired and respected. There are others that are not. These patterns cut across lines of socio-economic class and education. Even among the least educated and less affluent there is an awareness of when a person “has no class.” The lifestyle of an individual is a more accurate indicator of the values, morals, ethics of an individual than their race or ethnicity.


The past Obama phenomena can be understood better if we view his acceptance as an acceptance of a preferred lifestyle. Highly educated, financially successful, articulate, clean-cut and “nice looking,” moderate in his politics, somewhat religious, and a good family man. This is the perfect image America wants to project to the world, and to itself. Obama transcended the racial issue by having the perfect lifestyle that we all desire! This far over-shadowed his mixed ancestry.

 

Conforming to the lifestyle of the group in power usually assures individuals of more acceptance and less discrimination. People like to associate with people who are as much like them as possible. We feel more comfortable with those who share a common language, religion, culture, and worldview. On the one hand we preach diversity, but in reality, we want to be with people who are just like us. This could be intellectually, spiritually, or who dress as we do, like the same past-times or hobbies, sports, or music. 


          Adults in the past were miss-educated to believe that various ethnic groups were either inferior or superior intellectually and morally. This is what we call racism. Certain aspects of a group’s culture; their music, their diet, their religion, their speech, their dress, the way they walked, and even their art, were deemed inferior and sometimes almost sub-human. 


Read on >



Elizabeth Hill

Robin in the rain

Love In Action




Spring is finally here! I’m excited about all the colors and new life it brings year after year. Though I would love to be working in my garden, a drenching rain has been unrelenting all morning.


Midway through the afternoon the deluge slowed to a drizzle. A deep quiet and calm settled in. A few moments later, I heard a bird’s chirp as it searched the newly soaked soil for worms. Silence returned again momentarily, and then another chirp. The chirps became more frequent as the birds feasted and proclaimed the end of the storm.


I found myself humming a children’s tune titled Robin in the Rain, composed and sung by a man known as Raffi. I’ve heard and sung Raffi’s songs many times for the children in my care, so out of curiosity about his life I did some research. What I found opened my eyes and my heart to a wonderful service-oriented person whose life story quite literally emerged out of and was shaped by the ashes of a horrific manmade storm.


Raffi Cavoukian was born in Egypt to Armenian parents who named him after a poet from their homeland. Both parents had somehow escaped from Armenia during the genocide perpetrated by the Turkish government in 1915.

Each of Raffi’s parents had been married before the invasion. His father and his first wife had three daughters and his mother and her first husband had an infant son. Both spouses and all four children were killed or died of disease during the genocide.


Read the complete article.



Vincent Pinella

Luck

The First Glass




            The house still stands, wrecked, silent, blackened and charred. Once the flames were extinguished an excavator ripped off part of the roof and flattened walls on the second floor to expose enough of the house so that the last ember could be put out. Now the second level is open to the weather. Bedding and household items have been disgorged onto the wreckage piled behind two giant locust trees that partly hide the house from view. An old cape built who knows when, a house without a crawl space, most likely with sills on a layer of stone, a house whose days were numbered. The woman who lived there has moved to town. During the fire she lost two grown daughters who died of smoke inhalation as they went back into the house to save their pets. Their bodies were found on the second floor. They were gone before the fire companies arrived and before I arrived as well.


            About a year ago on the afternoon of a cold March day I came upon the house when returning from town. Smoke was pouring from a second floor window and seeping through the roof panels. No flames were visible. With no fire or smoke on the first floor, it was clear that the fire had started upstairs. Two men were already on the scene; one having called 911 waited on the road to direct the responders; the other had saved a pug dog, a pair of cats, and three pet birds. The woman who lived there had been told to wait in her car after crying out that her two daughters and more pets were still in the house. She wanted to go back inside.


            Telling her to stay put, I entered the house and stepped into the living room.


Read on >>>>



Change of Season

Vermont Diary




It’s been a rough first quarter in many ways down at the community kitchen, Loaves and Fishes. Two long-time members of our group have passed — and some equipment is going the same way.


At 6:30 Friday morning I discovered there was no hot water. Attendance numbers have been at about 350 meals recently, 700 a week, and one dishwashing machine can’t cope with that volume, or quickly enough so most of it is usually done by hand. On Friday we served 368 meals — despite the additional little problem of flames coming out of one of the gas keys on the oven, again.


It may seem like a minor thing but it’s like working with a 1,000lb bomb which is now 80 years old. Recent fundraising has raised most of the money for replacement. The gas and hot water got fixed that morning, and if only the Victorian drainage system would behave, we would be on a better, drier footing.


Meanwhile just before service FoodBank called to say there was a lot of meat we could have, but it has to be now — so we stowed all we could and shared with other groups what we couldn’t.


We lose a few people to other locations in the summer, temporally with vacations, or for the whole time, but the CSA is opening up, and we get fresh greens again.


We still need a few thousand dollars to basically update our hardware to standard. Anyone wishing to donate please drop me a line and I will connect you with our treasurer.

vtviewsinnes@gmail.com


Read more Vermont Diary >>>>



Philip B. Scott, Governor

to Columnist Robert Oeser

Immigrants in Vermont

Selected Letters





This letter is a response to an inquiry by Robert Oeser, JP, of Brattleboro


Dear Robert,


Thank you for reaching out to me about the recent arrests made by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). I, too, am troubled by recent events. As I’ve said, I will continue to protect our state’s values, and uphold the legal, ethical and moral standards – and Constitutional rights and liberties – that have distinguished America from the rest of the world for generations.


My team and I have reached out to ICE in order to meet and discuss recent arrests and deportation proceedings. We have also been in contact with Vermont’s congressional delegation to collaborate over this issue. One of the interesting facts we have learned is that there are just 10-12 immigration arrests in Vermont each year, and almost all of them are because the individual was convicted of a criminal offense. 


I will do everything in my power to ensure that ICE is only taking actions for which they have authority under federal law. Furthermore, I have signed into law Act 5 which protects Vermont residents from compulsory collection of information regarding religious beliefs, practices, or affiliation, or the disclosure of religious and other personally identifying information for purposes of establishing a federal registry or database based on that information. I believe that all Vermonters should be afforded government benefits and protections without regard to their sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, marital status, race, color, religion, national origin, immigration status, age, or disability. 


I assure you that I will remain vigilant concerning this issue as the situation develops. Thank you again for taking the time to write.


Sincerely,

Philip B. Scott

Governor



Read on >>>>



Toni Ortner

The language I speak

is a language of grief

Old Lady Blog



 

When we heard the guns we grabbed what we could. The bullets shattered the windows and splintered the doors. The floors shook. There was no place to run or hide. I grabbed two dish towels because I happened to be standing in the kitchen. We use them as turbans on our heads. Three men dead tossed overboard. The three men left saved shoes and pants and belts. I gave the last bit of bread to my child and for her sake try to smile. I whisper tales of almonds and honey cakes. She is too tired to weep; her head lies listless and she sleeps. Her pants and blouse are rags. I tried to drink salt water but I gagged. Yesterday, the boy cast a string into the sea and fashioned a hook by bending a rusty nail.


Strangers will never believe this tale.

There will be rows of lovely olive trees in Greece where the roofs of the houses are white and sparkle like diamonds in the sun. There are blue doors and a cross on every house so we will surely be welcome there instead of beheaded, crucified and shot.


No one listens. No one cares.  

We do not know if we go North or South or East or West.  We follow the seagulls. We do not understand the reason we had to flee and leave our lives behind.


Read On >>



Charles Monette

Other voices

Monkey’s Cloak




March winds have quieted

Too soggy to blow

They sigh away to churn the sea


Listening for words of beauty

Some never heard before

Looking, hearing for a different way


Forsythia’s early yellow

Bell-shaped flowers, shrubs of an Olive family

Offer easy to appreciate full throttled blooms


Counting on spring to lift the gloom

Renew assurance with each green grass blade

It’s a young loving time of year


Read On >>



Nanci Bern

The Great Exodus-Salamanders and Passover Crossings

An A-musing Life




It was the first night of Passover; the night of the first Seder. It was also the first night of the annual crossing of the salamanders when they go to the vernal pools to mate. In an effort to save these creatures BEEC, a local environmental group, organizes volunteers to protect the salamanders and their attending frogs as they cross the unpaved roads to their local pools. I was one of those organized. A group of us met with rain gear and flashlights in tow. Our task was to slow the oncoming cars so all make the long journey across their muddy desert safely.


It was not overly cold; it never is on Passover, but the light rain offered an edge that made the importance of this night sharp with focus. We were there to help sustain the ecosystem and, as far as I am concerned, a culture; a lifetime that spanned eons of the same behavior with the same expectations each time. The winter had melted away, the lushness of nature was awakening, and the rains had come. The pools appeared from under the ice and snow that created them. It was now time to emerge and continue life while the land is verdant and moist.


Read on >>>>



Phil Innes

Grey Tower

Write On!




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


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


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


Read on >



MM Kizi

Matinicus — The Marvelous Cat

Story Page




A full graphic novel

in slide show format


   Read On >>>



The Owens

StudioTWO




Every now and again I send people one of these images, and recipients are entranced, or more than that, fascinated.


Here is a selection of the overused word ‘unique’ work, but in this case entirely justified.  What follows are images, contact information with a few notes on the artists.


The Old Chapel is the home and studio of artists F. John  and Fiona Owen.

Each year, for three weeks of the summer, the two painters exhibit their paintings in their  studio. It is an annual Midsummer Celebration - a visual journal of their year, recording their travels and their daily walks.

This year will be the 29th year at the Chapel, and at the exhibition  the  three  year  project   "Weeds in the Heart" -

"A Five Valleys Herbal" will be launched - this is an  illustrated book by Nathaniel Hughes and Fiona Owen. The new book is 176 pages,  an A4 book with full colour throughout , with gilded paintings, illuminations & drawings. 

Their hillside garden is spread over an acre of terraced cliff, with a Gothic tower, pond house and box hedged potager.

Every June, the studio becomes an exhibition space for their paintings. It is twenty-nine years since they moved to the Chapel and they have brought up their two children, Laurence and Meredith there  -  both are now practicing artists .


Read more Here


 

Passages

Raymond Chandler

Sponsored by the oldest furniture store in New England 

https://www.facebook.com/finefurniturenaturally

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




I guess God made Boston on a wet Sunday.


Television is just one more facet of that considerable segment of our society that never had any standard but the soft buck.


If my books had been any worse, I should not have been invited to Hollywood, and if they had been any better, I should not have come.


The more you reason the less you create.


The flood of print has turned reading into a process of gulping rather than savoring.


I think a man ought to get drunk at least twice a year just on principle, so he won't let himself get snotty about it.


Good critical writing is measured by the perception and evaluation of the subject; bad critical writing by the necessity of maintaining the professional standing of the critic.


It is pretty obvious that the debasement of the human mind caused by a constant flow of fraudulent advertising is no trivial thing. There is more than one way to conquer a country.


An age which is incapable of poetry is incapable of any kind of literature except the cleverness of a decadence.


Most critical writing is drivel and half of it is dishonest. It is a short cut to oblivion, anyway. Thinking in terms of ideas destroys the power to think in terms of emotions and sensations.


Chess is as elaborate a waste of human intelligence as you can find outside an advertising agency.



Not Quite The Thing

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


International Caption It Competition




Series Ten Images by MM Kizi are sponsored by




If you like MM Kizi consider buying her new books

Lily the Cowboy and L & the Bell Gang HERE




Anguished English

James Lederer




Defendants speech ends with long sentence


•On a Tennesse highway: Take notice: when this sign is under water, this road is impassable.


•Johann Bach wrote a great many musical compositions and had a large number of children. In between, he practiced on an old spinster which he kept in his attic. Bach died from 1750 to the present.


•A cow wandered into my car. I was later informed that the cow was half-witted.


•The concert held in Fellowship Hall was a great success. Special thanks to the minister’s daughter, who labored the whole evening at the piano, which as usual fell upon her.



Image Notes — May 24

Martin Luther





Editorial Note: I often see questions about any of the daily speakers I put up, usually as a challenge to how people were, rather than what they said. Here is a fine example with Luther who was not just a little bit conflicted about professing peace, theocratic rule from an inner inspiration, and detestation of war — since he otherwise wrote as if proposing mass murder :—


On the Jews and Their Lies (German: Von den Jüden und iren Lügen; in modern spelling Von den Juden und ihren Lügen) is a 65,000-word anti-Jewish treatise written in 1543 by the German Reformation leader Martin Luther.


Luther's attitude toward the Jews took different forms during his lifetime. In his earlier period, until 1537 or not much earlier, he wanted to convert Jews to Christianity, but failed. In his later period when he wrote this particular treatise, he denounced them and urged their persecution.


In the treatise, he argues that Jewish synagogues and schools be set on fire, their prayer books destroyed, rabbis forbidden to preach, homes burned, and property and money confiscated. They should be shown no mercy or kindness, afforded no legal protection, and "these poisonous envenomed worms" should be drafted into forced labor or expelled for all time. He also seems to advocate their murder, writing "[W]e are at fault in not slaying them"


Subsequently Martin Luther is honored in various ways by Christian traditions coming out directly from the Protestant Reformation, i.e. Lutheranism, the Reformed tradition, and Anglicanism. Branches of Protestantism that emerged afterwards vary in their remembrance and veneration of Luther, ranging from a complete lack of a single mention of him to a commemoration almost comparable to the way Lutherans commemorate and remember his persona. There is no known condemnation of Luther by Protestants themselves.


Art & Soul

Notes on Creating by Audrey Flack


Little White Doves

  




An artwork by a graduating student at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design: several live white doves in a small white room with white netting on the ceiling. Reproductions of Rembrandt, Picasso, Courbet, the Mona Lisa, the Blue Boy, all in cheap, kitchy gold frames on the walls. There is bird excrement all over the paintings and the plaster statues on which the birds perch. I become more fascinated with the birds than with the art. They coo and fly. A sense of peace prevails. A disregard for the art. The peaceful birds couldn’t care less. A beautiful event.


Now, here, this!  May 11


Short & Long-term forecasts





There is a useful on-line resource which tracks real-time lightning strikes here

http://www.lightningmaps.org/




To This Degree

An image a day every day of the year



 

Photos of the Day


Early

&

The Camel Estuary