This is one of my favorite shots from yesterday. And thankfully there are many that I really like, which I’ll make use of. And apparently the cold and snow didn’t kill my cameras, which was amazing. And fortunate for me because a new camera is not in the budget. I took the chance and it paid off in great photos, and I get to shoot more stuff another day.

The Adventure of it All

The snow fell and, on contact with the camera, started to melt. I was constantly wiping it off, and trying to cover it with my hand. When I wasn’t using a camera, I stuck it inside my jacket to protect it. I just couldn’t stop shooting.

I switched between two cameras, my still shot camera , the Fuji FinePix 5200 and the video camera, JVC Everio. It was a lot of fun.

Now, I’ve heard that it may be fun for us (my mom and brother, nephew and niece had fun in it too) because we don’t get a lot of snow. I can’t say. All I know is I had a blast. And the next time it snows, if health and time permit, I’ll be out in it again. Although, I may try to see some other places too instead of staying at home.

Once I figure out how to adjust the size of my photos, I will be able to post more directly from my Flickr account. Sometimes, I’d really like for the photos to take up the full width of my post column. Until I figure that out, I’ll just set the size using my Corel® software.

Mom watching the Snow
Originally uploaded by ShariLS

This year the snow came early and it fell in abundance. It makes me feel hopeful about EVERYTHING!

As soon as I heard it was snowing, I was ecstatic! It doesn’t snow often here in Missouri City, Texas. And this is really early in the year for it too. I captured some really nice shots that I’ll be uploading to my Flickr account over the next few days.

Where the Inspiration led Me

It made me think of the possibilities of all that I want to accomplish in the coming year. I was inspired to increase my probabilities of success, just because it makes sense today. I want to start out aggressively. That way if I taper off (as I usually do) I should have moved forward quickly enough to be able to coast a bit.

Coming Up with 2010 Plans

Like most people, I’ll be reviewing and planning this month for next year. Originally, I was planning all conservative resolutions for the Read Write Poem group I joined for 2010 poetry resolutions. Today that’s changed. I’ve taken the weather, the images captured, and the exhilaration of the day as a personal sign to just do it.

And if I can keep that going throughout other areas, then next year will be a real adventure. This month, I’m setting up my plan for 2010, as clearly delineated as I can make it. It will be a plan forged in courage and the inspiration sparked by today’s early snow.

December Activities

I’ll close out this year with a bang. According to the Poetic Asides guidelines posted by Robert Lee Brewer, the submissions are due January 5, 2010. I’m going to finish this month. Tasks include selecting the best, not more than 1 poem per page, between 10 and 20 pages, and editing the poems to make them sing.

And, since find I rather enjoy this writing to prompts and participating, I’ll write the weekly prompts from Poetic Asides (Wednesdays) and Read Write Poem (Fridays). That way I can continue to be involved in communities. I don’t want to break the practice, and revert to my usual uninvolved routines.

Are you working out your plans for 2010? What’s on tap?

Oaks of Dillard University
Originally uploaded by ShariLS

Photograph taken at the 2008, 50 year reunion-graduation ceremony for my mom and dad. My dad passed away the year before.

Happily Distracted

I’ve been really busy and got pulled away from blogging, poetry and the Flickr work I’d planned. What pulled me away? I’ve been tied up building websites from scratch. I know, that’s crazy right? Not really.

I really enjoy pulling together the code. I learn so much by doing it this way. And I really do want to know how it works in detail. When I learn more PHP and JavaScript, I’m gonna build my own WordPress theme. They actually have the guidelines in the codex! How cool is that!

Flickr Work

Anyway, I finally got around to adding more pictures to my Flickr account. I’ve been sitting on the account doing very little with it. And that was not the plan. In keeping with my new plan of action, Just Do It, I sat still and got it going.

Motivation

Interestingly enough, I got a comment on one that I really like, after a day. That was inspiration beyond my expectations.

I had other motivation because friend of mine changed his Facebook profile picture to a photo that I took of him. He was quite complimentary about it and my photography. Sometimes, getting reminded from others is incentive to get off my can and do what I want. It’s fun. It’s legal. And it’s long overdue.

Getting it Done!

Last month, I planned to do more with my Flickr account. I did start reading through the site last month. Image upload started in earnest at the end of the month. And, today I got cracking! I set it up so that I can upload an image via email or directly from Flickr if I want. And, I got my very cool Flickr flash widget from Erik Rasmussen. This will keep me going for now. Posting images just got a lot easier.

Posting on the fly will be faster when I just want to put up a quick photo from my cellphone. Email posting and Twitter announcing seem to be very well set up.

An Aside

This Flickr widget is the first flash object I’ve put on any of my sites. I find I like it right now.

If you use Flickr or other photo site, let me know your thoughts on what you have. I look forward to hearing what others are using.

I thought cameras on cell phones
was really quite a waste
until I traveled to Johannesburg, South Africa.

The youths in the group
soon ran out of film
and my stores I had to limit.
After I shared my max,
they pulled out their cell phones
to continue taking pictures
. . . and I thought better of it.

Then I thought,
Cell phones to talk
is that too much to ask?
What’s the point of music
and texting and internet surfing?
until—
Hurricane Katrina hit and
knocked out all communications
save for one, can you guess?
Voice calls were intermittent at best.
But we could with some reliability
send and receive text messages.

I’ve given up on keeping ahead,
content with being able to
catch up to changes.
I’m stowing my cell phone
innovation skepticism.
Since just recently I sent my first email
from Gmail my web-based service,
I’m fully on board with all the new junk.
I’m getting an 8GB 3G iPhone.

© 2008 by Shari Lynne Smothers

The Hard Parts

I was preparing to leave my dad’s hospital room. He was very sick with cancer and other complications. He had suffered and recovered from setbacks that required surgeries, but he couldn’t seem to shake everything. Blood clots were his problem four years earlier and he still was plagued with them. We saw him through so much, but he was leaving us.

This day was a peculiarly gentle, warm day nearing fall. It had rained and then the sun came beaming out. It hurt every time leaving my dad in the hospital because I knew how much he hated being there. It didn’t matter that he was understanding about my leaving, he complained enough for me to understand that his heart wasn’t in that. And I understood that because I knew his personality. Still, I had to keep things in perspective so that I could just keep going. This particular day, dad was not ready for me to leave, and asked for different things “before you leave.”

Light in the Middle Parts

I stayed a little longer and did a few more things for him and just sat awhile longer. I told him that I’d return tomorrow, or maybe even pass back after I finished my errands. His spirits lifted and I was content that he was satisfied. As I left the hospital, I started to feel a little lighter because with just a little more time, dad was better prepared to be without family for the evening. Driving down the street the day was shimmering and such a feeling came over me. It was a promise I could almost hear. I called my mom, I just couldn’t wait to get to her house. I told her that things were about to change for us all. Mom asked me, “Like what? What do you mean?” “I don’t know really. That’s all I got.” She said okay and that she felt that way too.

In the weeks that passed, dad started to show some improvement. And he did get a little better—enough to get home. I got some good job offers. My youngest brother came to town to see my dad before he got really sick. My family and friends kept my mind occupied and life just felt tolerable with good stuff in the middle. I was laughing and talking and appreciating good things that were coming my way, as I grieved the illness that had invaded my dad’s body.

I was talking to one friend and he asked my how I was doing. I told him I was well, and that made me pause because I didn’t know how I was well. It was amazing to me that in the face of my abject sorrow, I was still able to smile and laugh from my soul—I could still touch my joy.

Dad went back into the hospital a time or two and each time I went with him. When I could, I spent the whole day with him. We would talk about the things that I was working on, like my editing course, or learning HTML. Sometimes he would sleep, and he would apologize for not being a good host. It never mattered to me and I told him so. Sometimes we would both sleep. We just spent time at the hospital then at home. After a time, my daddy died at home.

Always Learning: Lessons are Everywhere

Looking back now over these 7 months since my dad died, and I try to track how we got through it. I wasn’t as “prepared” as I thought I’d be, and yet I survived. I appreciated all the good things that dad and I did for each other, and the time that we spent. It came to me one day when I was considering how it is that I survived:

There’s plenty of excitement in my days. Life has a way of showering down graces like mercies in difficult times. And I am drenched with reasons to be grateful.

It’s easy to be grateful for the good things that come my way, no matter how small. What was a deliberate practice years ago is now a habit of gratitude. The other part that helps me is searching for the meaning in difficult times. In my darkest times, I try not to get maudlin. But I do try to take a straight-on look at things; my goal is to take up some treasure from the muck. Writing them down helps to soothe me. The poem Life Lessons (at the end of the post, I Write for Me First) is from a sifting expedition; one that took me passed the why and straight to appreciation.

Death and why
don’t sit together in me for long.
It makes me feel too inept.
Because without exception,
I come back to accepting that
it happens
just
because.

Mother’s Day with Mom

This past Mother’s Day weekend, I met up with my mother in New Orleans, Louisiana. She was there to celebrate with her Dillard University graduating class, their 50th Reunion. It is a big deal to the University as it may be at other universities as well. And it was special to classmates. You see, their Dillard University class studied and lived and grew as a community. They were part of each others’ lives. Some had matriculated from as far back as grade school together. It was very special to me too, for different reasons.

My mom introduced me to the man who sang at her and daddy’s wedding. She introduced me to a lady who was stunned by how much I look like my daddy. And Aromenta’s familiar face that was part of my growing up years.

I watched my mom enjoy herself. And I paid attention to her appreciation for the life she lived and how she lived it. Even though they didn’t keep in touch regularly, these friends seemed to delight in their time togetherr. Mom introduced me to one man, and I moved to shake his hand. He held out his arms and said, “Mackie’s daughter? I have to hug you.” People made it a point to tell me how highly they thought of my dad. There’s so much I took away from the two days that I spent with mom and her classmates, so much feeling and appreciating.

It seems I watch my mom a lot more closely since my dad died. And, I watched her spend time with her friends, talking and catching up before they go their separate ways. She and they seemed to take full advantage of the time that they had. No matter how often I watch them spend time with their friends, the fundamental lessons I take from them are lived out before my eyes. And my mom reinforced them once again:

1. First, carry on
2. Second, cherish my history
3. Third, never underestimate the power of friendship

Appreciating Where I’m From

My mom, Helen, is on the left
and her dear friend Roxy on the right.
They’re smiling together
posing for the photo,
chatting,
reveling in the moment.

I shot the picture
remembering Roxy dancing
in my parents’ bedroom on Annette Street.
She’d come by to see our new baby;
probably it was my brother Damon.

I remember how I was enthralled by her dancing.
I’d managed to stay in the room
as the grown-ups chatted.
Her energy filled the room
the hem of her mini skirt shimmied
her necklace almost touching it
swaying as she and my mom laughed
and shared girl talk and friendship.

Time has passed and geography separates them.
My daddy always nearby
is now passed away almost seven months.
What I see watching mom and her friends,
their expressions as they talk together
the bonds forged in their youth
is only more seasoned, a given,
unmoved by the distance between them.

It was a lovely day, warm with a nice breeze
blowing silently through the majestic oaks,
clear enough for my cameras to
capture what I wanted to keep.
My dad almost made it
but my mom’s still here to celebrate it.
In me is enough of both of them
to attend, appreciate and enjoy
the friendships they forged
and be back in time for work on Monday.
I was able to send pictures
and details to my family
who couldn’t be in attendance.
In all of this I am thankful.

And I continue.
Life is good with all that’s gone from me.
I’m grateful for all I have
and events and time and stuff left to do.
Whatever will be my future,
at these events, I glimpse insights of
parts and people that impacted my parents
who in turn shaped me.
I like knowing.

© 2008 by Shari Lynne Smothers

by Shari Lynne Smothers

Thank you Father, for everything.
For the flowers and the trees
and birds that sing.
For the cool, smooth crooning,
Jazz playing on my stereo.
For all the places You’ve taken me.
For all the experiences I have yet to know.
There are so many things
that I have yet to learn.
There are so many doors that You’ve opened for me
until I know not which way to turn.

I falter at times. Though generally I try hard,
I don’t always put my best foot forward.
Eternally grateful am I that You’re not at all, to me,
indifferent apathetic and untoward.
The ever-vigil watch that You keep,
continuing my very breathing while I sleep
sometimes goes unnoticed.
I can’t always see You through my worries.
I forget that Your graces are
all-powerful through all my stories.
Each scenario I come up with to
worry me to pieces
is a contingent handled. Before I get there
I have been released.

Woe be unto me, not for having been forsaken,
but for forgetting who was in charge of
this light of mine, for forgetting
that Your unerring watch will ever remain unshaken.

from Pebbles in My Shoes ©2004

Back-story: This poem is older than many of the others included in the book. It came from a morning reflection after a particularly hectic time in my life. I was sitting in my car parked at the Lake Front in New Orleans, Louisiana reading a book.

I was distracted by emotion thinking about having finally finished college. And I was grateful. I wanted to capture the gratitude, appreciation and thankfulness I was feeling. I flipped to the back of the book that I was reading and let this flow from my pencil.

Amen represents a culmination of a lifetime of gratitude to that point. It’s in this book because that sense of gratitude is ever present, certainly reinforced by milestones in my life, like the publication of Pebbles in My Shoes.

Gratitude Habit

It’s fitting to end this month with this poem because I’m pleased that I managed to participate even for a short while in National Poetry Month. And I got to do it on my own terms.

Blogging is a great way for me to get my writing out. It’s been pretty exciting since I’m usually not so brave. When I think back, this time last year I hardly knew what the bloggosphere was about. Now I write posts at work and at home and I only want to get better at it.

I’m grateful. And this habit of being thankful has taken over my life. It is something that I consciously cultivated as I reminded myself even in my heaviest hours to be grateful. It’s been joyfully dubbed my gratitude habit by a very dear friend.

Please share your expressions of gratitude. I would love to include a link to your blog in a post in early May.

by Shari Lynne Smothers

Luminous full Moon with its
finely etched marble finish.
A beautiful lamp God mounted.

Looks like He put in
a brand new bulb.
I can see the gray markings clearly.

So brightly does it shine
in the cool blue sky,
it radiates out have its own thickness.

If I held up a paper
I could trace exactly
the picture on the side of the moon.

When my grandmother and I
were out on a night like tonight,
She would sing the moon song.

I never learned that song
I don’t even know that I liked it.
Only that I loved to hear her sing it.

She may have been flat
or slightly off key,
but there was pure joy in her voice

that gave me just one thing more
that I would one day miss,
each time I see a beautiful moon

clearly on a night like this.

From Pebbles in My Shoes, ©2004

Back-story: This is another poem from when my grandmother was sick; it was time I spent enjoying what we had left, and who I was losing, by reflecting on things we shared. The only thing left is the rest of the story. In the time since I wrote the poem, March 2003, a full moon still makes me remember, and smile.

by Shari Lynne Smothers

Only the sun showed bright.
I couldn’t tell if it was doing it though.
The air was still
the clouds didn’t move
power lines didn’t sway
as there was no breeze.

A green S.U.V. in the
middle of the street
carried people who
didn’t move or speak.
The family dog at the house
across the street

had fur that seemed
to be on pause and a tail
stuck up in the air.
And as I looked around
at the housetops and trees
I saw the telling sign.

In midair was a flightless bird
neither moving forward nor
crashing to the ground.
The world had stopped,
paying homage to
grandmother who was slowing.

A bit longer things held
to let me take it all in.
“We are all on one accord
in sorrow for our passing friend.”

As everything resumed
flying, blowing, wagging, going
and I continued to stand watching
I realized
all that went by was an instant.

From Pebbles in My Shoes, ©2004

Back–Story: This poem came out of a daily writing stint. My goal to write a poem a day happened to fall in the last month of my grandmother’s illness before she succumbed to the ravages of cancer.

On some days I’d write more than one. And often they were not so great. Still, there were those that wrote themselves workably or whole. This one came out mostly whole—much like the long poem for which the collection is titled. But, you’ll have to get the book to read that one.

Not everything that I wrote that month was angry or sad. Some poems were ironically hopeful. But I find a measure of peace in respecting or appreciating the hurting times. I’ll offer you one more bittersweet poem after this one and then I’ll let up.

As a final observation I’ll share, this poem doesn’t make me sad. It’s a remembrance of my history. As with any poem, you have to find your own reflection in the meaning, or not. When you read a poem, cracking it open is often as easy as considering yourself. Start with, “It makes me think of…” and see where you get to.

by Shari Lynne Smothers

What would
devastate me
should I lose it
in this lifetime
is nothing I
can touch by hand.
For if I can
touch it
someone else
could break it.
Or, I could lose
my hands.
It is nothing
I can see
or smell.
For I could
lose
those senses
as well.
It’s nothing
I could taste.
An edible thing
is transient.
And finally
that sense could
fail me, too.
What would
devastate me
should I lose it
in this lifetime,
would only
disappoint me
in the hereafter.
Only then would
I realize
that I had
lost my mind.

From Pebbles in My Shoes, ©2004

Back-Story: This poem is light and heavy. I sat on the bed in my grandmother’s house and wrote this poem. It was just a passing meditation on what I had that I was willing to lose. Naturally it followed that I began to muse about what I couldn’t bear to lose. And various things came to me including thoughts about the losses I’d already suffered. One by one I reduced the number of things that I would kill and die for.

It really came down to a major appreciation for the things and people that I had. And then I considered that no matter how much I might be willing to sacrifice for a person, they too are perishable. The culmination was this poem. I like it because it describes what could be considered weighty contemplations in a fairly light tone.

You may be wondering what’s with all the poetry. Poetry is a lovely way to tell stories. And since it’s April, and writing poems is a joy for me, I thought I’d step it up a bit for the last few days of the month.

You see, April is National Poetry Month. It’s a time when poetry is pushed to the forefront in many arenas to increase attention to the genre. I didn’t take the time to do all that I wanted to; so I’m posting some of my poems for my participation.

Writing poetry is a pleasure for me because it requires me to sit longer with my thoughts. It relaxes me. With all the other writing I do lately at work and at home, I don’t write poems as much as I used to.

For this project, I’ve decided to revisit and share several of my poems, some from my book Pebbles in My Shoes, ©2004. Some of the poems have a little of their back-stories. And some I’ve posted with pictures which I’d not done before.

Pictures can be very powerful and I think they infuse the words. If you’re not careful, though, they can limit the full breadth of what can be experienced. So, enjoy the images but don’t let them stop you from going all the places the words can take you.

Finding Verses

If you haven’t written a poem yet this month, you should try it. I find reading poetry stimulating. They sometimes offer fodder for my own writing.

Words Beget Words – My friend Kirk sent me a brilliant poem entitled The Same as Gold by Alice Walker, from her book, Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth ©2003. He sent it to me after my last grandmother died. I read it over and over and over and then I wrote. And I included this in my book.

Broke
by Shari Lynne Smothers

A friend sent me
a poem by
Alice Walker
in which
she tells us
that grief
is comparable to gold.

My wealth knows
no limits.
It’s boundless
and never
is fully spent.
For when it’s low
when I’m almost out
something
occurs
to replenish it.

I’ll never be
completely broke
in this life.
But one day
I will leave
all this wealth
behind me.
I’ll move
to another place
penniless
certainly
without my gold.

No purchasing power;
no list will I have
I will rejoice in my
broke-ness
and be fully
glad of it.

Words from Photographs – Catching up on my blog reading today, returned to Sharp Words. There, I came across a nice poem entitled Holes in the World by Catherine of Sharp Words. It’s a very nice response to a picture that she saw of the New York skyline.

There are several ways to get to verses. Fundamentally, though, it requires you to look through to the marrow of a thing and yourself. The poem is the record of your interaction. And translating that to others is where the artistry shows.

If you want to write a poem, try some of these approaches and see what you come up with. And by all means, feel free to share with me the fruits of your labor.

I see in you
hopes and dreams,
mine —
sketched broad,
like soft brush strokes of clouds,
white on a mesmerizing
blue background;

Seedlings of a future,
mine —
tended by loving hands,
nurtured by warm sunlight,
blossoming into a fragrant garden
of beautiful flowers,
the sweetest fruit,
and gorgeous evergreens;

Friendship divine,
mine —
my heaviest moments are
spirited away
on luminous wings,
my brightest times are
enjoyed with you;

A promise,
mine —
that I am held safely,
sincerely
for all time,
secure from the world,
safe in love unconditional.

I see you,
I know I will breathe again.
I am eager for our tomorrows
because I recognize and realize
the best parts of me are
inspired by you.
And I am thankful that you are
mine.

©2002 by Shari Lynne Smothers

I wrote this poem for my brother’s wedding. My sister-in-law (to be, at the time) requested that I write something for their wedding. I didn’t know that I could pull it off; I had doubts for many reasons. After time, journaling, and a bad draft or two, I unearthed these words.

And, in case you’re wondering, the photograph is from my parents’ wedding, not my brother and sister-in-law.

I suffered an invisibility crisis. Being unappreciated was an associated feeling. It wasn’t from passing insecurities, but from the words. And I marveled again at how cutting and devastating they can be. I may have been out of practice because it’s been a while since anyone hurt my feelings. But just a brief sentence sent me reeling.

Partly Cloudy

Overcast without a cloud
no external indication
save for the
sarcastic tones
of address
and heavy sighs
of discontent.

Always the sense
of having fallen short
of the mark
expected for me to reach.

I took time to regain my balance. Returning to my center was going to take some doing. I didn’t have time to just sit with it because there was so much going on. The first chance I got to think and to meditate and be, I was too upset to focus.

It’s always intrigues me how God put things and people and messages in our paths at just the right time. It’s because of Morning B.R.E.W. sessions that I can step outside of most things quickly. And even closer to the event, the day before, the church sermon was for me. Pastor Edwards’ message was to ask for mercy that fits my case. Figure out what I need according to me and tell it to God.

My soul cried out in anguish. And I sent up prayers of thanks because I knew that I didn’t have to stay in this way. Watching, praying, grateful that I just trusted that better was moments away.

At home, I checked my email and found the message I needed in my BREW series newsletter, the Monday Morning Inspiration.

Date : 2008-04-07

BREW MONDAY INSPIRATION

Dear God,
Help me to be
still enough
long enough
to know that there is a place within
on the other side of silence

where love lives.
Amen

©2008 by Kirk Byron Jones

My prayers were a guide for what I needed. I learned that my efforts were not appreciated or even seen. And I had to accept that but I needed to know that I am enough. My focus was then on what could make me whole again, make me want to continue to try. This prayer/poem was the perfect message for me, from God through Kirk Byron Jones.

Once again, I am granted what I asked for, peace of mind. In this and many instances besides, I attest to the power of prayer and meditation and Morning B.R.E.W. time.

Partly Cloudy is from my poetry collection called Pebbles in My Shoes, published by Author House in 2004. It’s where the feelings took me for a while.

2003 Written by Kirk Byron Jones
Author of seven books including
Rest in the Storm:
Self Care Strategies for Clergy and Other Caregivers

It’s been a couple of years since I reviewed this book and I’m still just as excited about it today. It revealed to me a spirit-infusing practice that I continue to use as I prepare to take part in my days.

Dr. Jones introduces us to his practice for greeting the day. In his devotional time he calms his spirit by making still the concerns of the day. By emptying himself of lists and obligations, everything that threatens to distract him. He encourages us to do this important first step, respecting that it is sometimes uncomfortable to face new aspects of ourselves and quite necessary.

Attempt to persevere by riding through the place of initial dis-ease. Breakthrough growth often begins in the tension of the familiar rubbing up against the unfamiliar.

Dr. Jones recognizes the challenge of being your best self and the effort required to optimize your mental and emotional state. The grace that allows him to be his best is from being open to God. And an equally important part of this process is the respect that must be given to Self.

The B.R.E.W. self-embrace moment is a good time to listen to the dreams and desires bubbling up inside you. Thank God for writers like John Eldridge and Erwin Raphael McManus, who have rescued the sacred meaning and value of words and realities like desire and passion. Use B.R.E.W. self-embrace to nurture your God-given desires and passion.

B.R.E.W. is a book about self-awareness and appreciation. It helps us to release the power that is inherent in us as Christians, power that God graced us with before we knew who He was. This is power that we were meant to use to prepare us for the adventure that comes on the wings of each new day.

Pay attention and drink with great freedom and joy from those wells that inspire you most.

B.R.E.W. is the map for the devotional practice.

Be still
Receive God’s Love
Embrace Personhood
Welcome the Day

I use this devotional practice regularly to bring out my best self. My statement to the day is: This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and take part in it.

And for those situations that are especially straining, this is a great meditation on the fly. I am able to return to my center, restore my calmness, to again be focused.

My final words come from the beginning of the book. Dr. Jones offers this guiding request to set the tone for reading Morning B.R.E.W.:

When you think of Morning B.R.E.W., I don’t what you to think first of a book authored by Kirk Byron Jones. I want you to think of your own daily deepening, energizing, and transformative experience. In this sense—and I believe this with all my heart—B.R.E.W. is less my book; B.R.E.W. is more your experience.

Yes We Can

Obama 2008

Isn’t hope the foundation from which we all move forward no matter what we’re undertaking?

It never occurred to me that anyone could find it effective to take a hardline stance against HOPE. What makes a person run for office if not hope? What makes a citizen vote if not hope? Explain to me again what is the matter with fostering, encouraging, pronouncing the good in hope. . . I must be slow. . . or, it must just be Hillary!