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The scab is off, and the wound of America’s history is bleeding. Again. Perhaps because a black man is president…? It’s a savage old wound, never really healed, and apt to erupt into pestilence at any moment. Medical terminology comes to mind: suppurating, necrotic, septic. In other words — it eats away at the flesh of…

During the Việtnam War, there was a popular folk song covered by several artists ~  Where Have All the Flowers Gone? Written by Pete Seeger as an anti-war song, it continues to be one of my favourite anti-violence statements. Yes, it’s about war. But it’s also about the ongoing pattern of sanctioned violence. It’s about a culture…

Yesterday I spent far more time than I’m comfortable confessing on the FB wall of a colleague (& friend). It was a discussion (as many are these days) about Baltimore. My friend had posted a piece by a young woman (African American) who blamed the rioters for their behaviours, and said (basically) that whites who…

This is a love song to the power of the arts. It’s also a bit of a book review — in praise of a book so strong it will shatter your preconcieved notions and crack your heart open like an egg. It’s an ode to what books & paintings & sculpture & music & weavings…
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