Rabbit! Rabbit!

arkansas, art, autumnal equinox, Children, Christmas, Civil War, Constitution, Declaration of Independence, elections, Fall Equinox, Family, holidays, Imagination, inspiration, Labor Day, perfection, photography, rabbits, St. Patrick’s Day, summer vacation, texas, US Constitution

September marks the return to order and organization, since the summer for most of us meant a relaxation of rules and schedules. “Vacay mode” of late mornings, pajama days, and snack meals are now a fading figment of our fevered frenzies. I remember these days all too well. My little girl threw a conniption fit one morning as I hurriedly dressed her so we wouldn’t be late for her pre-k class and my teaching assignment at the same school. We dashed out of the house, I locked her in the car seat, and flew to my workplace. I delivered her to the precare room and made a beeline for my art shack.

Later on at lunch, her teacher informed me I’d brought my fussy child to school without panties. Oops! Luckily, all the children were required to have a spare change of clothes “just in case of emergency.” Saved by those who are more organized than most. My art classroom always had the paint organized by rainbow colors, the scissors numbered, and shelves labeled. The moral of this annecdote is, “Innanimate objects are easy to organize; people not so much.” Murphy’s Law also comes to mind: “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong,” and Murphy’s First Corrollary: “It will cause the most damage possible.”

In the “No Pants Scandal,” of four decades ago, only my pride was injured. I’m not as organized or as perfect as I thought I was. This brings me to a little chat on appearances vs. our true selves. Our “false self” wants to appear organized, on top of things, spiritual, magnanimous, and virtuous. We’d like to be “perfect” in thought and deed. Yet the more we try to attain perfection or to act perfectly, the more likely dark, hateful, or mean thoughts arise from the depths of our hearts. We see this is our dualist world view, which divides our world into pure evil or pure good. The book of Proverbs reminds us, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (16:18). It’s always better to admit, as I did, “I didn’t have a great morning and she wasn’t cooperative. I’m surprised we got here at all.”

Speaking about regular and organized, our earth is about to have another equinox on September 23, 2023, at 1:50 am CDT. The Fall Equinox happens yearly on or around September 22^nd. The date of the fall equinox is variable because the 365 day Gregorian calendar doesn’t match up perfectly with the position of Earth in its orbit around the sun. When we add the leap year, the equinox date also changes. While the September equinox usually occurs on September 22 or 23, it can very rarely fall on September 21 or September 24. A September 21 equinox has not happened for several millennia. However, in the 21st century, it will happen twice—in 2092 and 2096. The last September 24 equinox occurred in 1931, the next one will take place in 2303. This rabbit won’t be around for any of these rare events, so don’t send me an invite.

The September 29 full moon occurs at 4:57 AM CDT. It’s called the Harvest Moon in some years, or the Hunter’s Moon in other years. Technically, the Harvest Moon, which is the Anglo-Saxon name, is the Full Moon closest to the September equinox on September 22/23. The Harvest Moon is the only Full Moon name determined by the equinox rather than a month. Most years, it’s in September, but around every three years, it falls in October. We also know this September full moon as the Corn Moon from the Native American tribes harvesting their corn in this time. Other names for this month’s full moon are Celtic and Old English names: Wine Moon, Song Moon, and Barley Moon.

Just as summer’s laissez-faire moments will give away to school and work routines, so the onset of autumn and the fall equinox herald another change. You might not yet recognize it over the insistent hum of your air conditioning system or feel it due to the heat waves rising from the black asphalt of your company’s parking lot, but autumn is just around the corner.

Don’t look at your utility bill just yet, and don’t pack your bags for Texas. I talked to my brother down there who has his AC set to “stun”—he said when the bill comes, “It will stun him a second time.” Texas doesn’t belong to the national energy grid, but to ERCOT, the Electric Reliability Council of Texas. It’s not connected to the two major electrical systems of the lower 48 states, but has its own grid to avoid federal regulation. When Thomas Edison started the first electric power plant in Manhattan in 1882, he set off a gold rush of independent power companies. During WWI, they began to unite and even more joined after WWII.

Texas takes seriously its “Don’t mess with Texas” rhetoric. Only on rare, catastrophic instances has it briefly joined either the American or Mexican utility grids. While Texas is a large state with rich energy resources, the USA is larger. When extreme weather events happen, energy costs rise. Rates can vary wildly as a result. The economic lesson is ERCOT is Dollar Store trying to outbid the Walmart of the national grids who can share energy with those in need.

Thomas Nast: The Lightening Speed of Honesty, 1877

Speaking of nations, on September 7, 1813, the United States got its nickname: Uncle Sam. Samuel Wilson from New York, a meat supplier to the US Army, stamped his barrels with US for United States. The soldiers began calling their rations “Uncle Sam’s,” a name the local newspaper noted, which began to spread and soon became the personification of the federal government. Thomas Nast (1840-1902) popularized the image of Uncle Sam. In Nast’s evolving works, Uncle Sam acquired the white beard and the stars-and-stripes suit we associate with the character today. The satirical cartoon of yesteryear’s dithering Congress is apropos of our modern chambers, which can’t seem to come a reasonable compromise to get the people’s business done by funding our country’s basic needs.

Over a century before Uncle Sam, Columbia was an idealized feminine figure that personified the new nation of America. She was created in 1697 when Chief Justice Samuel Sewall of the Massachusetts Bay Colony wrote a poem that suggested the American colonies be called Columbina, a feminized version of Christopher Columbus’ last name. Over 70 years later, the name evolved further when former slave, Phillis Wheatley, wrote an ode to George Washington invoking Columbia in 1775. Born around 1753, Phillis Wheatley was the first black poet in America to publish a book. She was listed among the enslaved persons at Mount Vernon. You can read her amazing poem here:

His Excellency General Washington by Phillis Wheatley— https://poets.org/poem/his-excellency-general-washington

Over time, the image of Columbia became a symbol for American ideals during wars, such as the American Revolution, the War of 1812, and World War I, as well as the subject of political cartoons and literary works. With her liberty cap and patriotic shield, Columbia stood as the spirit of the country. We even see her name, image, and likeness in modern industry in the Columbia Broadcasting System or CBS, as well as in the seat of our national government, the District of Columbia.

Uncle Sam also has honored workers on Labor Day, which we celebrate on September 4^th. Many rabbit families treat this three day weekend as the last hurrah of summer. Let’s remember those essential workers who serve and protect the rest of us while we barbecue in our backyards and national parks. The first Labor Day “parade” in 1882 was a strike. Workers marched en masse from New York City Hall to Union Square to protest terrible working conditions during the Industrial Revolution. Workers, including children as young as five years old, labored in unsafe factories, farms, mills and mines for 12 hours or more per day, seven days a week, often without breaks, fresh air or even clean water.

Credits: NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies

This map shows global temperature anomalies for July 2023 according to the GISTEMP analysis by scientists at NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies. Temperature anomalies reflect how July 2023 compared to the average July temperature from 1951-1980.

Only 5 States Provide Heat Relief Laws for Workers. Arkansas doesn’t protect workers from dangerous heat inside or outside.

Today, 141 years later, during the hottest July since 1880, some states are passing laws to prevent workers from getting “special treatment due to the heat” such as extra breaks for cooling or water. Currently only five states have protections for workers in these extreme conditions. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, between 1992 and 2019, extreme heat killed more than 900 workers and sickened tens of thousands more. Those numbers, however, are likely an undercount due to the lack of reporting by negligent employers or by workers who are worried about retaliation or deportation. In addition to the physical implications, time off from a job due to illness can lead to missed wages or the loss of a job altogether.

Bain photograph: LC-USZ62-49516: Four women strikers from Ladies Tailors union on picket line during the “Uprising of the 20,000,” garment workers strike, New York City, 1910 February, glass negative photo, Library of Congress.

As a rabbit who once endured a few days in an unairconditioned art shack at the beginning of school and then fainted from heat exposure, I have a heart for all workers in extreme circumstances. I made sure to take care of my people, since my bosses didn’t care about me. It’s never right to treat others poorly just because you were wronged.

Reading The Constitution Online is also an Option

In late September, we celebrate Constitution Week (Sept. 17-23). The Declaration of Independence, written in 1776, was a list of grievances against the king of England and intended to justify separation from British rule. The Constitution was written and signed in 1787. It was a charter of government ratified by the states, and continues to be the supreme law of the land. All members of the armed services and Congress take a vow to defend the constitution, as do the President and Vice President of our country.

We rabbits will all need to brush up on our civics lessons in the days to come, for the upcoming presidential candidates may be affected by their lack of appreciation for the constitution and the consequences as a result. As I always told my students, “Attitudes drive Behavior and Behavior leads to Consequences. You can choose the good or the negative. It’s all up to you. Try for a good attitude every day.”

The 14^th Amendment, section 3, passed after the Civil War, or the last great insurrection by the southern secessionist states, forbids holding office in the US government by former office holders who then participate in insurrection or rebellion. This constitutional provision is currently being tested in the courts. September is back to school for all us rabbits. The last time I remember a civics lesson was the seventh grade in Mrs. Tampke’s class, but “ex post facto” might have been “non sequitur,” as I was passing notes rather than paying attention.

Mr. Flopsy’s Rabid Rabbit Pirate won’t be Messed with.

We rabbits can only take so much seriousnes in our short lives until we need a break. Thank you September 19^th: International Talk Like a Pirate Day! Everyone can ARRGG their way MATIES through a Tuesday, and if Monday is a pain, who says we rabbits can’t Pirate on that day too? After all, pirates rob and steal, lawless vagabonds that they are. Let’s just take over the good ship Monday and drink our strong Pirate Coffee with vigor and daring.

National Bluebird of Happiness Day is September 24^th. I love these little blue glass figurines. Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz sings, “If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why, oh, why can’t I?” Bluebirds uplift the heart into joy when we see them in nature. The blue glass iconic sculptures, made in Arkansas by the Ward family, have sold over 9 million birds, large and small. They’re no longer made due to concerns about climate change because the glass production process requires large amounts of natural gas and electricity. I treasure the blue bird in my possession and greet it daily. You might find one in a secondhand store.

God Please Keep My Children Safe, by Grayson Perry, 2005

Love Note Day is September 26, so I suggest you write a sweet letter to your beloved. This might be a spouse, significant other, parent, mentor, or even your own self. Share some affirmations to those who mean something to you. Don’t stop at one note of love, but make a whole symphony of blessings. In our world today, folks don’t hear many positive messages. You can help balance the scales for your recipients.

If the Sears Catalog were still a thing, we bunnies would be wishing

September 30, the last day of this month marks 92 days left in 2023. Where has this year gone?! Don’t ask this rabbit. I’ve already bought a couple of little Christmas gifts for my bunny friends. I’m never this organized. This means I’ll likely lose or misplace these items in the 86 days before Christmas Day. Then again, this is also enough time for this rabbit to find these packages once again! Live with optimism! Expect the best and work for it.

May the Blue Bird of Happiness bring you

Joy and Peace,

Cornelia

The September Equinox

https://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/september-equinox.html

Traditional Full Moon Names

https://www.timeanddate.com/astronomy/moon/full-moon-names.html

Why does Texas have its own power grid? | The Texas Tribune
https://www.texastribune.org/2011/02/08/texplainer-why-does-texas-have-its-own-power-grid/

How The United States Got its Nickname

https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/united-states-nicknamed-uncle-sam

The lightning speed of honesty [Uncle Sam seated on snail “45th Congress” carrying Army and Navy payroll and money, with Resumption Act (of honesty) in his pocket] / Th Nast.
https://loc.getarchive.net/media/the-lightning-speed-of-honesty-uncle-sam-seated-on-snail-45th-congress-carrying

Database of Mount Vernon’s Enslaved Community · George Washington’s Mount Vernon
https://www.mountvernon.org/george-washington/slavery/slavery-database/

Heat Stress Is Killing Workers. States Can Protect Them.

https://www.nrdc.org/stories/heat-stress-killing-workers-states-can-protect-them

Short Summary—The Character to Lead: Republicans’ Fork in the Road Between Trump and the Constitution’s Eligibility Requirements for President

https://www.justsecurity.org/87750/the-character-to-lead-republicans-fork-in-the-road-between-trump-and-the-constitutions-eligibility-requirements-for-president/

Deep Dive— The Sweep and Force of Section Three. 172 U. PA. L. REV. (forthcoming 2024). William Baude & Michael Stokes Paulsen. https://deliverypdf.ssrn.com/delivery.php?ID=791101027092090122082025003064104018105084007031052035109090080088105005086003018089043050055106031007050097096000078089031112025019027055033023110008092018116067055086024100075002015088106075126126082029114024094102088002003074126075030067104090009&EXT=pdf&INDEX=TRUE

U.S. Senate: The Senate’s First Act—the Oath Act and 1862 Ironclad Oath
https://www.senate.gov/legislative/landmark-legislation/oath-act.htm

Arkansas Bluebird of Happiness – Encyclopedia of Arkansas. https://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/entries/arkansas-bluebird-of-happiness-3822/

Rabbit! Rabbit!

adult learning, at risk kids, brain plasticity, Children, city, Dreamscape, Faith, Family, flowers, Healing, holidays, Icons, Love, mandala, Mandylion, Ministry, ministry, nature, Prayer, purpose, rabbits, Reflection, renewal, risk, school shootings, shame, Spirituality, Stonehenge, summer solstice, texas, Uncategorized

Welcome to June! I’ve found my sunshades and my flip flops, so this rabbit is ready for a summer vacation. Old school teachers never die, they just take the summer off. And teachers, as well as students, will need a summer off, along with some intensive counseling, to get them ready to return in a healthy frame of mind next fall.

In my early years in ministry, I served in a certain county where many people were caught up in despair. I often complained to my district superintendent of my desire to pour mood elevators into the public water supply.

“You do know drugging the water supply isn’t exactly an acceptable activity for a Methodist minister?”

“Oh, yeah, but it sure would make my job easier.”

Remember, June 3 is Love Conquerors All Day. I need to remind myself of this on occasion when I want to take the easy road. As Jesus reminds us in Matthew 7:13—

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide
and the road is easy that leads to destruction,
and there are many who take it.”

Taking the easy way out isn’t always the best choice, but it’s the one we rabbits most often choose. We rabbits don’t like to rock the boat, and we like to make all the other rabbits happy if at all possible. The only problem is if we please A, B gets upset. If we please B, A gets upset. We don’t even try to please C, since C is so cranky, even the good Lord Jesus couldn’t fry an egg to please them. We set our hearts and minds on pleasing God, as best we can, and hope to hear the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your master.”

Chocolate ice cream brings me joy any day of the year, but June 7 is a day dedicated to this frozen delight. Don’t worry about frying eggs, but keep it frozen. I like mine plain, but fresh strawberries or peaches are a nice addition, plus some chopped nuts. Always go for complex, unless you just can’t wait. Then grab a spoon and eat it straight from the pint. (Mark it with your name, since you ate from it.)

Often we cut the Gordian Knot and go for the shortcut to our complex problems. Sometimes this is a good solution, for the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. My daughter used to call my vacation navigation shortcuts “the long cuts,” since I’m directionally challenged. Most of the time, that straight line went through swamp land and alligators. I can hear her voice now, “NOOOOO!!!” I’m known for taking the scenic route, so I often see America’s less known sights, which are off the beaten path.

In the gospel of Luke (14:34), Jesus quotes a proverbial saying:

“Salt is good; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored?”

Another translation of the latter portion of this verse is “how can it be used for seasoning?”

When I think of loss, I think of a life snuffed out. Some people are burned out, so we can say they’ve lost their seasoning ability. There’s no vim or vigor in them. Other lives are cut short and aren’t able to fulfill their purpose to season the great soup of our community. Our past month was marked by 47 mass shooting incidents in May alone. A mass shooting incident is defined as one in which at least four people are injured or killed, not including the shooter. Suicides aren’t included.

Suicides are also a public health problem. They are the “deaths of despair” that leave ripples of grief and hopelessness in the survivors. They’re the ultimate shortcut solution to a problem, the placing of a period where life has placed a comma or a semicolon. My daughter once attempted suicide by downing half a bottle of aspirin. I noticed the open bottle and pills scattered across the floor. She said the “dog ate it.”

“That’s too bad, I’m going to miss that dog. She won’t be long for this world. We’ll need to make burial plans for her.”

“Well, actually, I’m the one who ate the aspirin.”

“Then we’re going to the hospital. You aren’t going to like getting your stomach pumped, but it’s better than being dead. You want to have a chance to grow up and have a good life. A dog we can replace. You—not so much.”

It was a rough time in her life, and mine too. But God was with us. And we had support from counselors, friends, family, and our church family. My work family and my clients supported me too. I must be the most extroverted rabbit in the patch, because I asked everyone for help. It turned out my problem was shared by everyone else. I discovered I wasn’t alone, but was the most ordinary of rabbits around.

This is a humbling experience, especially when you’re a first child and the only girl. I admit to being spoiled, but don’t let my brother rabbits hear me say this. I’ll deny it to my last breath: I’m like every other rabbit I know. I want to think I’m someone special, even when I’m just as fluffy as every other bunny out there on Gods green earth.

Unfortunately, half the suicides today are committed with a gun, not aspirins. When looking at overall gun deaths, roughly two-thirds are attributed to suicides—a proportion that is consistent across most states. Gun suicides are on the rise and data also indicates men, white Americans, older people, and individuals living in rural areas present higher rates of gun suicides. Another group presenting a unique risk for suicide is current and former members of the armed forces, especially those with PTSD.

Compared with the general population, current and former military members have significantly higher rates of gun ownership. According to a 2015 study, nearly 50% of U.S. veterans own a gun. In contrast, studies suggest that only about 22% of the general U.S. population owns firearms. Similarly, the age groups of 50 to 64 years old and 65 and older have the highest rates of gun ownership, according to a 2017 Pew Research Center study. This can further explain the high rates of suicide among older veterans.

According to data from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA), in 2019, close to 4,332 veterans died by gun suicide in the United States, representing close to 18 percent of the total number of gun suicides reported by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) during that year. Perhaps more alarming is the fact this figure shows a veteran is killed by gun suicide every two hours. In 2019, active duty military members committed suicide by gun 64% of the 498 total (318), almost one gun suicide per day.

Why isn’t anyone speaking about this? For all the lip service our politicians give to the flag and to the armed service members, they seem to forget them once they’re no longer useful to fight their wars or march in their parades. Perhaps because Congress won’t devote any money to study the effects of gun violence on the citizens of our Beautiful America, so we have to fund private studies here and there to piece together a patchwork of facts of this scourge on the peace of our people.

My young neighbor, only 8 years old, was in a panic as he knocked on my door the other day. His parents hadn’t come straight up the elevator, as they’d said they would. He was crying to beat the band and was sure something bad had happened to them. I invited him inside and left the door open so we could see them come past. He was so worked up, he couldn’t sit down. I suggested a call to his daddy, but they came walking past just at that moment.

We don’t realize what terror these school shootings put our children through. There’s no safe place for them any more, no matter how “hardened” we make the buildings. Some person always breaks the shell at the most inopportune moment.

Some rabbits will have empty seats at their family reunion tables because someone decided to act impulsively. Father’s Day (June 19) won’t be a celebration without the son or daughter to give Dad the tie, the golf balls, or breakfast in bed.

I think back to my own childhood. We worried in the 1950’s more about the urban legends of Halloween candy poisoning, when we were more likely to get killed crossing Highway 1, a four lane highway running through our town. My mother rabbit would wait for me to ride the trolley home from school. She would wait until the near lane of traffic cleared before she walked out to the center median and time this so the far lane’s cars would finish passing so she could walk across the newly empty lanes to meet me on the other side. We held hands and crossed in the same manner on the way back to our home.

This was our routine from the start of school until sometime in the autumn. Mother was delayed one day, so I sat down to wait for her and opened my book to read. I was wearing a brown jacket against the early cool spell, and my dirty blonde hair blended in with the pile of dry leaves on the ground. Intent on my book, I failed to see her come outside. She overlooked me and went inside thinking I’d missed my ride.

A bit later, I decided if she wasn’t coming for me, I’d come to her. Gathering up my possessions, I stood on the curbside. I watched the comings and goings of the quickly moving traffic. Once I saw the break in the pattern, I walked out into the clearing, waited at the median, and crossed behind the trailing traffic of the second lane. When I walked inside, my mother had a conniption fit. After this, I began riding my bicycle to school, and my brother got to come with me.

Not everyone is mature enough to cross a four lane busy highway by themselves when they’re in the fourth grade, which is the same age as the children who lost their lives at Robb Elementary in Uvalde, Texas. . Some people still need to be supervised at work even in their 20’s. The brain keeps maturing past age 21, as the frontal lobes, which are home to key components of the neural circuitry underlying “executive functions” (such as planning, working memory, and impulse control) are among the last areas of the brain to mature; they may not be fully developed until halfway through the third decade of life. Although neuroscience has been called upon to determine adulthood, there is little empirical evidence to support age 18, the current legal age of majority, as an accurate marker of adult capacities.

Since May 24, the date of this tragedy in Uvalde, Texas, the gunviolencearchive.org has recorded 16 mass shootings in six days, with 79 killed or wounded. Some of these are high school graduation parties where uninvited guests arrived and gunfire broke out, others are the result of young people wandering about in the late hours and getting into trouble with guns. During my time of ministry, youth, alcohol, and firearms were usually a recipe for trouble. Maybe parental rabbits’ brains are still developing too, if they aren’t able to put their rabbit foot down and tell the junior rabbits to leave their weapons at home. Visiting Jack Rabbit in jail for accidental death or intentional use of a firearm will throw a curve into your best laid plans for your progeny.

Instead, cities may have to reinstitute curfews after dark to curtail the opportunities for gun violence. Or they could raise the age to buy a weapon and require a longer waiting time and a more thorough background check. I wouldn’t be opposed to a training class and a test to see if the owner knows how to use the weapon safely. After all, we do this for the 2 ton weapon of mass destruction known as the family automobile. So what if the founding fathers never had autos; they also never had automatic pistols or large magazine weapons, modeled on the ones used in combat.

Did I mention June is National Safety Month? Its emphasis is workplace safety, but as a former teacher, this old rabbit reminds you, between 2009 and 2020, teachers’ workplaces are in schools, which is where 30% of mass shootings occurred in public places (schools, malls, or bars), while 61% of mass shootings occurred entirely in the home and another 9% occurred partially in a home and partially in a public location. The common factor in these is the gun and the presence of domestic violence. In at least 53 percent of mass shootings between 2009 and 2020, the perpetrator shot a current or former intimate partner or family member during the rampage.

Richard Small seen posing with his rifle before turning it over to police.
(Joshua Lott/The Washington Post)

I know y’all usually expect a bright and cheery note from me at the beginning of the month, but my heart is broken. Thoughts and prayers are nice, but they don’t stop the carnage. We need to make some changes. At least one man has turned in his assault weapon to his local police station, so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. He couldn’t bear the thought of it being used to perpetrate a similar crime if he were to sell it. If we parents don’t say no to our children, if we keep voting for politicians who are doing nothing, then we get to keep the distinction of having the highest rate of violent gun deaths for any of the developed countries.

That’s not the American Exceptionalism I believe in. We can do better. These are crimes against the common good and against the innocent. The shooter shares the primary blame, but everyone who does nothing to change our society for the better also shares the blame and shame for the next group of victims. At the rate we’re going, we’re having about one mass shooting per day. Eventually this scourge will come to YourTown, USA, and your small town police force will be just as flabbergasted as poor Uvalde’s. How could this happen in our little corner of the world?

I cry along with Jeremiah ( 8:21-22):

For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt,
I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me.
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
Why then has the health of my poor people
not been restored?

Time Magazine Cover from 2019 with all the Mass Shooting Locations Named

Sometimes we go along with the attributes of cultural Christianity, rather than practicing the Christianity of Jesus Christ. Romans 12:2 reminds us

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed
by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern
what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

Joy, peace, and balm for hurting souls,

Rev. Cornelia

Deadly Dreams: What Motivates School Shootings? – Scientific American
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/deadly-dreams/

You can view a report of any 2022 mass shooting incident by visiting the list on the Gun Violence Archive’s website:
https://www.gunviolencearchive.org/reports/mass-shooting

Poisoned Halloween Candy | Snopes.com
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/deadly-dreams/

Mass Shootings in America | Everytown Research & Policy | Everytown Research & Policy
https://everytownresearch.org/maps/mass-shootings-in-america/

Adolescent Maturity and the Brain: The Promise and Pitfalls of Neuroscience Research in Adolescent Health Policy – PMC
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2892678/

Guns and Mass Shootings: Data Show Why US Is Outlier on Deaths From Firearms
https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2022-us-gun-violence-world-comparison/

Texas romance with guns tested by Uvalde school shooting – The Washington Post
https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2022/05/30/uvalde-shooting-guns/

Snow Covered Landscape

art, Creativity, Faith, Imagination, nature, Painting, photography, texas, vision

I covered up an old painting I didn’t care about, one of those “unsold inventory pieces,” which inhabit every artist’s storage areas. In the old days, artists would burn their least good works in the winter to stay warm. While we might want to see these works, artists burned them for a reason. They made better fires than art. We artists know art and we know what we like: excellence. If a work doesn’t meet our standards, we can destroy it and move on. Texans have been burning their furniture in the recent winter snowstorm, when their statewide power grid failed. They can always get new tables and chairs, but no one wants to lose fingers or toes.

I used to think my art was a precious thing, as if it were alive. Now I’m more discerning, for a work needs to hold together and still speak to me for a long time for it to be a “quality piece.” Since I’m still pushing the boundaries of an idea, sometimes my work falls short of my goals. Yet if I ever get to the point at which I’m just repeating techniques and forms, I won’t be enjoying myself. I’ll move on to something else, I’ll guarantee you for sure! I was born on a Thursday, and like all such children, I have far to go. I will most likely never stop searching for a better way to express my creative journey or my experiences in this world.

I’ve often wondered about the artists who find one style and work it out infinitely, as compared to those who develop and change over the years. I love the landscape, and have given priority to God’s creation in my own creative endeavors. I feel closest to God in nature and identity with God’s creative energies when I’m making my art. Making art becomes a spiritual experience for me, since it brings me into union with God. I’ve often wondered if the artists who refine only one style ever end up losing their sense of creative joy. While a gallery might find it easier to sell our products if they look like our previous work, artists have to decide if they paint for public approval and sales or for continuous, creative purposes.

This decision is easier for those who have other means of financial support, but for the most part this has been the lot of artists over the years. A few well heeled families may support their creative endeavors, but many others are the starving artists of legend. Most of us end up in the latter category, since we don’t work full time at either our art or our day job. We sacrifice for our muse.

So what does the spiritual life have to do with the life of an artist? Most people think artists spend their lives wantonly drinking in cafes until late at night. These are “artist pretenders,” since actual artists are called to the solitude of their workplaces and the silence of the moving spirit in the pushing and pulling of the media in which they work. If they command their materials, they produce one level of work, but if they surrender to the movement of the spirit, they enter into a dialogue with the work which comes to birth through their hands. In a sense, we cannot “make art,” but we “allow art to become a reality in our presence.”

For those who insist on “tackling their work” or “achieving mastery over a medium,” this attitude of surrendering before the canvas or artwork is difficult to understand. As Jason Nesmith, the captain of the fictional Galaxy Quest spaceship said, “Never give-up, never surrender.” This is such a trope of television writing, the movie makers had to poke fun at it. What’s sad is we confuse our spiritual life with the movies. Sometimes the best course is to surrender. When we realize we’re at the end of our ropes, we don’t tie a knot and hold on. We let go and let God. We quit trying to fix it and control it. We offer compassion to the broken, rest to the tired, refreshment to the hungry, and cheer to the downhearted.

So it is with a painting. It starts with an idea, in this case, I wanted to recycle old material into a new purpose. I also wanted to revisit the aerial view of the lake area where I live, but with snow. I cut and sewed one afternoon until I had enough shapes to glue on my square canvas. You can see the tapestry elements as well as the old embroidery, which I think dates from the 1970’s.Then I set it aside to dry overnight.

The next day, I used my acrylic paints to put the first layers on the canvas. I ended up with more warm colors than I intended, but the under layers were also warm reds and golds. I was losing energy and couldn’t feel the painting speaking to me any longer. This is “artist talk” for losing sensitivity to the changing field of colors on the surface. It’s similar to not being able to recognize the look of boredom on a conversation partner’s face while you go on and on with your tale. In the studio, you lose the work and elsewhere, you lose someone’s attention. When my blood sugar drops, I have to be careful, for I lose my receptiveness to the subtle movements of color and form. If I can no longer hear the work speaking to me,I know I need to stop and come back later.

The next day, I crunched about in the snow for about fifteen minutes, but under the fluff is ice, so I didn’t stay out long. My cozy condo is a better choice. I repainted most of the warm colors with cool blues and pinks, and highlighted the leaf shapes in the “forested area.” We have two large condominium projects near the lakeside and a large highway near the right side of the image. The rest of our landscape is snow covered trees. Once those odd warm areas calmed down, then I could hear again the brighter notes of red and gold against the violets and grays. The hard edges where the fabric joins together follows along the roadways for the most part.

After I completed this work, I hung it on the wall and compared it to one I’d done prior to this which has all the boathouses around our lakeshore area. I decided to repaint the water with the colors of the clouds of the sky. Now I’m happier with the painting because the same families of colors float over both the land and the water areas. It’s more unified.

The good news is while I may not perfect my vision during my lifetime, for I’ll always see more I can do and my hand will surely fail to capture what my imagination can conceive, I’ll always have the assurance of God’s love:

“So we have known and believe the love that God has for us.
God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us.” ~~ 1 John 4:16-19

May God fill you with joy and peace,

Cornelia

Chapter IV: Income and Earnings

https://www.arts.gov/sites/default/files/Artists_and_Other_Cultural_Workers.pdf

The Burning Bush

art, Children, Faith, Family, grief, nature, Painting, photography, purpose, renewal, school shootings, texas, Travel, Uncategorized, vision

How long does a new and unusual aspect of our environment need to be in place before we notice it? On the other hand, how long does it have to persist before we treat it as the new normal and begin to ignore it? THE BURNING BUSH

My mom and dad were married right after World War II, so they’d lived together for nearly forty six years when I came home for a visit from seminary one weekend. Right off the bat, I noticed something differ about my dad.

“You’ve gone and grown a mustache.”

“You like it?” He asked, as he smoothed the unruly hairs into place.

“Oh yeah! You look like a perfect Southern gentleman.”

He smiled. Perfect and gentleman was his aim.

My mother, who was sitting in the identical chair next to his, separated only by a small table with a lamp and magazines, craned her head around that lamp to look at him.

“When did you grow this mustache?”

“Mother! You’ve slept in the same bed with daddy every single night of your entire life. You always kiss each other good night. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed the hair on his upper lip!”

A little rattled, she replied, “It’s always dark when we go to sleep.”

I laughed. My daddy smiled. My mother always had an answer for every thing. I noticed his mustache because I hadn’t seen him in a while, whereas mother had watched the slow progression of the hiding of his upper lip. I should say, it’s been my experience the husband usually fails to notice his wife’s new haircut, an act which causes much family drama.

When I travel, I don’t go from point to point with the goal of arriving as soon as possible. If that were the case, I’d fly. In my car, if I see an interesting place, I’ll go visit, since the journey is more important than the destination. Once I’ve arrived, I even make side trips, just for a little exercise. I was walking around Lake Bridgeport, in the town of Runaway Bay, Texas, when I stumbled upon these grasses, flowers, and small trees. The afternoon light caught the center stalk so it glowed its reds and golds. The few leaves left from autumn’s color, which hadn’t been blown away by the seasonal rains quivered in the light breeze. A few flowers added color to a rather grey afternoon.

Why would ordinary weeds catch my eye? There’s nothing remarkable or heroic about weeds. Most people spend good money to rid their lawns of ugly and invasive weeds. Here around the lake is a wild place, however, and the weed is in its natural state. This red weed is unique among the other natural grasses, for its not a single blade, but a stem with alternating leaves. I had to pick my way through some underbrush to find an opening from which I could take a good photo. I felt as if this weed had called to me.

I’ve often wondered how long the bush burned in the wilderness before Moses looked up from counting his father in law’s sheep and said, “What is this? I must go see it!” Extraordinary events happen all the time, yet we’re too consumed with our day to day busyness to see the glories of God’s hand at work in the world. Or we come to a watershed moment, when the bush would burn brightly for us, and throw water to quench its fire, for “it’s never been done, it can’t be done, it’s always been this way, and people will never change.”

If Moses believed this, he’d have never followed God’s call back to Egypt. The Hebrew children would still be slaves in Egypt. But Moses trusted God. This is called a sea change, or a transformation. We don’t do this just on our own, but by a power at work greater than our own. We might resist, but God persists.

But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh,

and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”

He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you:

when you have brought the people out of Egypt,

you shall worship God on this mountain.”

~~ Genesis 3:11-12

What sea change is happening in our world today? Are people finally fed up with treating human life as a cheap commodity? We do this if we treat people as objects to be used and then thrown away when they’re worn out or too sick to be worked hard. When we fail to fund schools and health care for all, we don’t get the best people for our citizens or our employees. If only the wealthy can afford health care and a quality education, then our democracy suffers, for we will have a permanent underclass and a qualified few. This bifurcation doesn’t bode well for the future. Does a bush burn in the wilderness for any of my readers?

Are we tired of exchanging precious human lives for a shibboleth? The word means “stream” in Hebrew and was used as a sorting test to distinguish warriors of Gilead from those of Ephraim. Today, the 2nd Amendment serves the same purpose, because the National Rifle Association gives politicians large amounts of money for their campaign coffers and spends extra money on their behalf also. The NRA is the front for gun manufacturers, who profit if they sell more guns. They never want any restrictions on any freedom, but we don’t live in an anarchy, so a democracy can restrict certain aspects of gun ownership and use.

Public mass shootings have occurred on average every 172 days since 1982. Since September 6, 2011, there’s been 14 mass shootings at an average interval of less than 172 days. These don’t include domestic violence or criminal activity. Seven of the deadliest mass shootings in modern US history have taken place in a school, including Sandy Hook elementary and Virginia Tech University. The deaths at Stoneman Douglas HS in Florida were the 180th mass shooting since 2009 and the third mass shooting in 2018. By Valentine’s Day in 2018, 17 school shootings had been reported, and in the week after, even more.

Schools now receive an average of 50 threats of violence daily, compared with 10 per day at the end of 2017, NPR reported. Since I began this blog in 2011, mass killings in public spaces have snuffed out the lives of 270 persons in grocery stores, church sanctuaries, schools, post offices, and restaurants. In seven years, an average of 38.6 individuals did not celebrate with cake and ice cream on their next circuit of the earth around the sun. I didn’t know any of these personally, but we may have lost the next Steve Jobs or the next Mother Theresa, or someone who would have fought happiness to their small corner of the world.

Some want to arm the schools, but what about the other places of mass shootings? Why not just ban the weapon which enables the taking of mass casualties? Or are the lives of grocery shoppers less valued than school children? Ask an orphan if a parent is valued. We don’t want to become an armed state in America, or at least I’m not for it. Perhaps the NRA wants this, for the gunmakers would boost their bottom lines. They make enough money off the rest of their product lines.

Some would say, opioids take MORE lives, as does tobacco use (1,300 deaths per day). These substances are legal and on the market we expect people to use them responsibly. They’re also addictive and controlled. The largest incidents are mostly since 2004 when the ban on semiautomatic weapons lapsed. These weapons, civilian equivalents to military type issue, are meant for mass killing, not for sport, hunting, or target shooting. Their high velocity ammunition doesn’t just pierce flesh, but obliterates it. Survival rates are slim and none.

I wonder if this moment in our nation’s life is our burning bush, our opportunity to hear the voice of God calling to us, and we rise up to set our people free from this pain and insanity.

“I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt;

I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters.

Indeed, I know their sufferings,

and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians,

and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land,

a land flowing with milk and honey…”

~~ Exodus 3:7-8a

THE MOMENT BEFORE

art, Creativity, Faith, nature, Painting, Spirituality, texas

The moment before my daughter came into this world, my husband reminded me of the doctor’s orders: “Whatever you do, don’t push!”

“Don’t tell me (horrible expletive deleted) not to push! I’ll (more expletives deleted) push if I want to! His look of shock and horror lasted only seconds before he turned for the hallway door to shout, “I think this baby is coming now!”

We had been at the hospital all day long waiting to induce my labor. The nurses misunderstood my doctor’s orders, so they only gave me a bit of the oxytocin, but not enough to start the cramping of my womb. I felt a mild twinge, but nothing exciting was on the program at zero dark thirty in the morning. Coffee break came and went. My husband ate lunch as I sucked on a damp wash rag. Hospital food never looked so good.

Exhausted, I napped in the afternoon. Sometime after five, my doctor made his evening rounds “Why hasn’t this woman had her baby yet? Crank it up!”

Normal labor sneaks up on a woman. My own mother said she attended a picnic the day before my birth, so she thought the initial twinges of labor were a spot of indigestion from the day before. My daddy, who was a doctor, always got a good laugh from mother’s self diagnosing, for indigestion comes sooner rather than later. Nevertheless, labor moves progressively from mild to intense and from widely spaced to closely packed. The moment a child enters this world is still unique. When the nurse turned the handle on the oxytocin, a flood of chemicals hit my blood stream all at once. In a moment, I knew I had been hit by a freight train. I went from zero to ten on the pain scale instantly. I was glad my husband had his senses about him, because mine had been knocked to Pluto, which was still a planet back in these ancient times.

When the moment cane for me to push, I knew it was time. To live in a state of awareness and to be open to the information and stimuli all about us is to live in the present moment some say, “I couldn’t do this, for I would go crazy with all the details to be sorted out!” I think those who live in the present moment realize the unity of all things. Some call it the ONE, while others see the ONE who makes all things. As an artist, I see the beauty that flows through all things. As a person of faith, I see images which remind me of stories from my holy scriptures. The cloud in Christian symbolism represents God’s presence, for God, in the form of a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, led the Hebrew people during the wilderness wandering. In the baptism of Jesus, the cloud opens to reveal the Holy Spirit in a bodily form, like a dove.
“And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”” (Mark 1:10-11)

in the moments when we take a stand, walk outside of our comfort zone, stretch our boundaries, our reach for the stars, we need to realize the affirmation comes only afterwards. It doesn’t come from the people who are looking on from the banks of the water. It comes from above, from the cloud enshrouded God. And we may be the only ones who hear God’s voice. We mustn’t let the cacophony of this world distract us from hearing the still, small voice of God. Sometimes we need to practice our own silence in order to hear the silence of the present moment speaking to us more clearly.

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Rabbit! Rabbit!

Rabbit! Rabbit!

Snow Covered Landscape

The Burning Bush

THE MOMENT BEFORE

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