Into the sun we climb
Climbing our wings will burn white
Everyone strapped in tight
We’ll ride it out
Music from Foo Fighters
Find Next Year
History and mythology need to include the unrestricted stories of all women: The female perspective in aesthetics, values, spirituality and morality. I develop imagery that shows the natural beauty and intelligence in all the aspects of the multicultural life of sisters, mothers, daughters, aunts, grandmothers… –Toni Truesdale
Learn more about artist Toni Truesdale on her website.
Pop Culture Librarian
I felt frustrated for feeling so sad, for not being able to live in the gratitude of it and feel thankful after he died. I wanted to think “thank you, thank you, thank you for that love”…
To me, grief is like a fog. For the past six months, it’s been hard to focus, concentrate, see things in front of me. I would listen to my friends and family talk, and I would hear them, but it was like I was underwater. I can hear you, but there is a roar in my ears, a scrim between us. I am trying to listen, I hope you know I’m trying to listen. I did all the normal things, I went to work, I met friends for dinner, I smiled, and the smiles were genuine, but they were labored, under that thick, blankety fog.
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So quiet and peaceful
Tranquil and blissful
There’s a kind of magic in the air
What a truly magnificent view
A breathtaking scene
With the dreams of the world
In the palm of your hand
More from Queen
Find A Winter’s Tale
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow…
But the sound wasn’t sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!
Find Dr. Suess’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas
In the upper left hand corner (inside a room, among the apartment buildings) my mother is reading the story to me and my two sisters. As she approaches the sad ending – an ending I’ve heard before – I leap out of the room, landing in the story. Though I am too late; all that is left of the little girl is a shadow surrounded by light, as her soul ascends to heaven. –Kasia Polkowska
View more stained glass mosaics by Kasia Polkowska on her website.
Once we get it to the street I said, Its all pretty much downhill from here. And we looked toward home together, surveying the potholes, dips and little inclines.
I came across a small, chapel sized upright piano on its side last Monday in someone’s yard, two hours before you had to leave to teach. It was fate, I said. Something told me I needed to go out. Snow and rain were coming. It had to be now, I said. And without hesitation, you put on your coat and shoes and we walked hastily down the weathered sidewalk to save it from sure death at the hands of the hangings-on of winter rains and snow…
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Ya never see clearly, til ya stop cryin
I never found it, until I stopped tryin
I stumbled upon ya and fell thru the ceiling tiles
I started a fire, to smoke out my treasons
I tore down a building, to pick up the pieces
And now on a clear glass wall, I can see our fate
But it’s a little too late
Oh If you’re hearin this
I musta made it through
Oh when the clouds above open up through my window
I’ll see the sky’s still blue
More from Andrew Belle
Find Sky’s Still Blue
You must do the things you think you cannot do. – Eleanor Roosevelt
More about Eleanor Roosevelt