We are Orlando

My heart has been pretty heavy since the news hit about yet another massacre in the States. I have been quiet and reflective; not sure I was going to say much of anything publicly. After all, I did not know any of the victims and we all already know that it’s a horrible tragedy.

However, I reconsidered that because there is no part of my life that isn’t touched by this. I live in the bay area of California, where Harvey Milk served when he became the first openly gay politician before he himself was massacred. There has never been a single time in my life that I have not had at least one gay friend.  At various points throughout the last couple of decades, I have worked at nightclubs – both gay and straight. My sometimes boss was (is) a flamboyant and wonderful gay man. Last year I took my six-year-old faery goddaughter to the Gay Pride parade in San Francisco right after gay marriage was legalized by the Supreme Court so she could witness a happy moment in history. A little over a month ago I attended a lesbian wedding. Last week I spent time talking to a friend about whether or not she wanted to explore a same-sex relationship. And last night my heart broke as I held up a candle, raised my voice in song and marched with thousands of others through the streets of San Francisco.

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Bernie vs. Thatcher — Choosing the Green – Roghnú Glas

Well, you learn something new every day. Yesterday I attended a Bernie Sanders rally in Oakland, CA which was the very last place I thought I’d learn a new tidbit of Irish history but I was mistaken. One of the speakers had just returned from the North of Ireland. He butchered the pronunciation of Sinn […]

via Bernie vs. Thatcher — Choosing the Green – Roghnú Glas

The Caucus Reality Check

Dear everyone,
Iowa is not the United States. The population is not as diverse as the entire country and their caucus is not really an indicator of how the vote is going to turn out. After all, this is the same caucus that gave the state to Santorum (Mr. “frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex” himself) at one point. Please remember that and a few other things:

1. Liberals and Conservatives alike are HAPPY and gloating that Ted (rabid Tea Party Psychopath) Cruz beat Mr. Hate-Trumpeter. Think about how messed up that really is for a second. Then remember that Rubio is not any more moderate or better than either of the other two and recognize that any one of these three could be in charge of the military, the highest courts, your healthcare and decision-making rights, and the economy if you let them. Still smug and happy?

2. Please consider the fact that whoever wins this election gets to appoint Supreme Court Judges. Plural. Even if your preferred candidate does not win the nomination, you must swallow your high ground and get to the voting booths in order to prevent one of those (hateful, misogynistic, my idea of a vengeful god gives me the power to do anything) guys from having that job.

3. This election brings a chance to demand something different, with AT LEAST two candidates who actually could start that paradigm shift everyone longs for. (One makes my skin crawl but that’s beside the point) The conversation has started just by their involvement in the process. Don’t give up on that or tune it out and remember that you should vote no matter which candidate wins the nomination, even if it breaks your heart.

I know who I will vote for in the primaries and all the way to the end if he manages the nomination, because I long for something different. However, if he does not win the nomination, I’ll hold my nose and my breath to stand with her – because all of the above are NOT OK with me. They shouldn’t be OK for any sane, compassionate person. Only in the most desperate situations can any of them appear to be viable, and only in the darkest times would I long for another Bush to win the nomination.

On that note, I now return you to your regularly scheduled program.
:Steps away from podium:
(and goes here https://go.berniesanders.com/page/content/contribute/)

My other hats

I tend to do a lot of different things. I write. I play with herbal remedies and cordial recipes. I make jewelry and I study history. I guess I’m a Jill of many trades…but it keeps life interesting and the hobbies come and go in waves.

Last month I received an email with an amazing opportunity but a super daunting request. I was given the chance to put my bullet jewelry in the Crocker Art Museum as a companion set to a three month exhibit by Al Farrow – who has always been one of the main inspirations for my bullet jewelry. It was a super exciting idea and I was thrilled. However, this meant I needed at least forty individual, custom designed pieces of jewelry in less than a month’s time, and they had to range in design, type, and price. Of course I jumped at the chance and said I’d do it, even though there’s a hefty cut taken by the shop and the monetary profit will be negligible. I wasn’t sure I would be able to finish in time though and have been working at it for weeks.

Today I passed the 40 mark and I still have a couple of days before the pieces have to be delivered. Apparently when Al Farrow’s amazing work is the motivator, I can do damn near anything. So consider this post my shameless self promotion and my own high five with myself…and your invitation.

If you are anywhere near Sacramento between October 11th, 2015 and January 3rd, 2016, please stop by the Crocker for this exhibit and a stroll through the gift shop. It is going to be amazing to see and I hear the shop will have some great pieces just in time for the holidays…..

More info can be found here

The Persistant Path of Peace

It’s been over five years since the first time I stood at Ground Zero. Back then it was a pit full of cranes and heavy equipment. I stood there at the beginning of September, in the heat and the sweat and watched men work on beams so high that they looked like toys. They still wore masks as they beat metal into submission, trying to reach the sky with the bones of another building. I remember the emotional toll it took on me and how it felt to be there but not much about the area itself because the whole place was still off limits and under construction. I remember standing in front of the fire station, sobbing uncontrollably and clutching the wall. I remember looking over at the church and being angry at the idea that people viewed its unscathed structure as a miracle and proof of their god, when so much around it had been destroyed. I wondered how they could still believe in anything at all. It seemed that no one was paying attention to the space – and I was horribly offended by that idea. How could the world not stop? How did people walk next to the construction zone every day without breaking? How could things just go on?

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Black Lives Matter

When I was a little girl my best friend was a boy named Clarence. We played together every day and I still remember the smoky, warm cadence of his mother’s voice as she read to us. I  also remember being told that my friendship with Clarence was going to change once we started school because he was black and I was white. I doubt either one of us would have noticed that fact for years if not for that conversation, as it was simply not something we recognized. As children, we were colorblind. I will never forget the confusion and anger I felt, not understanding why anything had to change at all. I remember the defiance I felt – feeling sure that Clarence and I would be best friends until we grew up and got married. I was 4. I was too young for anyone to steal my naivety and I was angry that anyone doubted our love. In retrospect, it was probably the first moment in my life that truly shaped who I have become.

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