Happy National Sibling Day - or not.

They're everywhere today;

an invasion of images.

Pictures of various groupings of siblings 

on Facebook and Instagram;

all comments extolling the delight

and love 

found within the bonds 

of sibling-ship.

I know I cannot be the only one.

 The only one who knows that

shared DNA 

and a smattering of shared memories,

decades old,

aren't enough to hold people together;

not when memories are so painful,

interpretations of 'reality' so varied 

and

trust so fragile.

I know I'm not the only one.

There are at least 2 other people in the world who know it too.

I wonder if this day is as painful for them as it is for me.

I'll never know.

Unfurling

Note to self:

Pay attention to the small miracles 

unfurling

all around us

every day.

 

 There's much to learn from nature.

 “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud 

was more painful than the risk it took 

to blossom”

Anais Nin

Is it your time to bloom?

 

Go ahead,

take the risk.

It will be glorious!

Becoming

Just because something isn't yet

what it will eventually be

doesn't mean there isn't beauty

in the becoming.

 

 None of us come fully developed.

 It's an unfolding

that takes a lifetime.

  We need to see 

the potential

and the fragility

inherent in the process 

and act accordingly.

Truth telling

She's not quite 4;
the oldest of soon to be 5 siblings;

resilient and wise
 in ways a child 

shouldn't have to be -

from the chaos in her family

and from multiple placements

in different homes 

with indifferent caregivers.

We were holding hands

going in search of a juice box

when she looked down

and said

"Oh, what happened to your hand?"

 I decided to tell the truth.

"Nothing. 

I'm white 
and my hands are old".

"Oh, I'm sorry
but don't feel sad;
kindness comes in old."

she replied.

 This interaction
and this bouquet

 made my week!

Some see weeds;
others have eyes that see
beyond the descriptors
to the essence.

Truth telling is always good.

While you were writing ...

When I left for Cuba, it was winter.

When I came back from Cuba,

it was wet and cold - 

typical post-winter

or pre-spring

in the Lou

depending on how optimistic you're feeling.

 But while I was writing about Cuba,

re-living all the highlights,

spring burst forth in all its glory.

And it's magnificent!

 

 

 

 

Viburnum, lilacs and dogwood are right around the corner ...

stay tuned.

Art in Cuba

I'm not an artist.

I've gotten better about accepting 

that I can color outside the lines, 

attempt to create something 

and have Epic Fails.

 I have nothing but admiration for folks

in every country

who take visions in their heads 

and translate those images through canvas or clay;

who put themselves out there,

saying "here's how I see things,

love it or hate,

it's my view of the world

in this moment and time".

I was curious to see how the creative spark was encouraged 

or repressed 

in Cuba;

how art flourished

 and in what form 

when so much of human expression is forbidden.

I knew a piece of artwork was the only souvenir I'd bring back

to remember my time in Cuba.

 

 I expected color

and, since its what I prefer,

naive or unschooled artists. 

While there were many galleries and museums 

offering all kinds of visions

in all types of mediums,

 

 

 

 

 many of the offerings for tourist consumption seemed formulaic.

 Take a car from the 50's,

stick it in front of a historic building

and paint it in primary colors.

Modern day paint by numbers.

Which is why finding some alternative artists was so much fun.

One artist in Cienfuegos took striking medieval images

and techniques,

added bits of contemporary culture 

and created paintings that provoked and delighted

in equal measure.

 

  

Other artists ran the gamete

 

 

 

Some artists were even brave enough 

to take on political themes -

even publicly.

 

There were several pieces I would have brought home in a heartbeat - 

if price or size weren't limitations.

The ones that got away ...

 

But don't feel too badly for me.

I brought home the impressionist sunflowers

at the beginning of the post

as well as

I was instantly attracted to it - 

without being able to say why;

until I got home and had more time to look at it closely.

That's when I figured it out.

It's my career!

The big four footed creature,

forging ahead, 

trying hard to ignore  - 

not a dangling carrot that keeps her going -

but yet another child that needs to be freed...

should be good for several sessions 

with my therapist!

This collage also made it back to the States

and it's not hard to figure out the meaning at all!

Truly, there was something for everyone.