Tuesday, November 28, 2017

the women anthology KNOW ME HERE beneficial to all edited by Katherine Hastings . . .

Chris Rice Cooper 

*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.
**The links along with the names of the persons/organizations are at the end of the piece in alphabetical order.  Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly


KNOW ME HERE
An Anthology of Poetry by Women
“to enter as one wound, to exit as one healing”

     
  In 2006 poet Katherine Hastings determined her commute from Sonoma County to the San Francisco Bay area to hear poetry was too time consuming and exhausting.  She decided to create a poetry group in her own community called WordTemple Poetry Series.  The group also became a radio show in 2007 – the monthly WordTemple on NPR affiliate KRCB FM.


       Hastings got the idea to do an anthology of the women poets who were part of the World Temple Poetry Series and the radio program.  It was to be the first anthology of its kind – the first all women anthology published under the first woman president.   Hastings was deeply discouraged, disheartened by the Presidential results.  She was so overwhelmed by these emotions that she considered for a moment to kill the project.
      
But soon – she changed her mind because she knew the anthology was not a matter of choice but need, especially during these intense and troubling times.  She continued to send out invitations to women poets and writers to submit to the anthology Know Me Here and the rest is history. On July 7, 2017 Word Temple Press published Know Me Here An Anthology of Poetry by Women edited with an Introduction by Katherine Hastings.

This is not an anthology of political poetry, and yet it is.  It can’t help but be.  The poems are women by women and they are appearing in the first year of a presidency that finds Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaids Tale, Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me and George Orwell’s 1984 flying off the shelves for good reason.
--Excerpt, Introduction page xii

Know Me Here is the project by women for women but beneficial to all.  The cover art “Woman” is by artist Flo Berger-Doyle; and 46 women contributed to this project:  (names, web links, and photos are at the end of this piece).
Devreaux Baker; Ellen Bass; Elizabeth Bradfield; Janine Canan; Maxine Chernoff; Susan Cohen; Elizabeth J. Coleman; Gillian Conoley; Lucille Lang Day; Sharon Doubiago; Susan Kelly-DeWitt; Camille T Dungy; Iris Jamahl Dunkle; Sandy Eastoak; Terry Ehret; Annie Finch; Molly Fisk; Miriam Bird Greenberg; Judy Halebsky; Elizabeth Herron; Brenda Hillman; Jane Hirshfield; Jodi Hottel; Maya Khosla; 
Lynne Knight; Danusha Lameris; Kathleen Lynch; Mary Mackey; Colleen McElroy; Jane Mead; Toni Mirosevich; Rusty Morrison; Gwynn O’Gara; Connie Post; Kim Shuck; Hannah Stein; Melissa Stein; Jennifer K Sweeney; Julia Vose; Laura Walker; Gillian Wegener; Arisa White; Toni Wilkes; Leonore Wilson; Kathleen Winter; and Pui Ying Wong.
       These poems speak of the woman’s spirit recognizing the problems and the turmoil of our day and recognizing that the same woman’s spirit has the power to conquer all of these issues through the power of poetry and the power of being woman. (Right painting attributed to Salvador Dali) 

Know me here, where the wind dreams of us
as her lost tribe
where the universe weaves our bodies together
as one fabric
and we open ourselves to welcome the spring
to enter as one wound, to exit as one healing.

--excerpt “Invocation For Spring” by Devreaux Baker


We as women are confronted with genocide and breast cancer in Devreaux Baker’s poem “We Show Each Other Our Scars;” dying and death in Ellen Bass’s “Taking Off the Front of the House;” gun violence and homicide in Elizabeth Bradfield’s “Dancing From the Summer;” alienation in Janine Canan’s “Acceptance;” resilience in Maxine Chernoff’s “Cuchulain;” forest fires and its devastation in Susan Cohen’s “Golden Hills
of California;” gender equality in Elizabeth J. Coleman’s “Fearless;” Gillian Conoley’s plea for peace in “The House of Secrets;” suicide bombers, police brutality, and filicide in
Lucille Lang Day’s “Wanjina;” grief in Sharon Doubiago’s “In the Lake;” immigration rights and appreciation of all cultures in Camille T. Dungey’s “What I Know I Cannot Say;”  nuclear disaster in Iris Jamahl Dunkle’s “On Hearing that the Radiation From Fukushima Has Reached the West Coast;” the importance
of environmentalism in Sandy Eastoak’s “River;” identity in Terry Ehret’s “Half  A Woman;” motherhood in Annie Finch’s “Being A Constellation;” mental health in Molly Fisk’s “North of Tomales;” Global Warming in Miriam Bird Greenberg’s “Before the World Went to Hell;” naturalism in Judy Halebsky’s
“Bristlecone Pine;” mortality in Elizabeth C Herron’s “Holy Day 3 November 28, 2016;” the right to privacy in Brenda Hillman’s “In A House Sub-Committee on Electronic Surveillance;” anatomy in Jane Hirshfield’s “My Skeleton;”  the Japanese Internment Camps ordered by President Roosevelt in Jodi Hottel’s “Unwritten Note;” an elegy dedicated
to Georgia O’Keeffe in Susan Kelly-DeWitt’s “Callas;”  spirituality in Maya Khosla’s “Migration Into Bhutan;”  the unity of women in Lynne Knight’s “The Silence of Women;” the fertile and the baron in Danusha Lameris’s “Egg;” our ancestors in Kathleen Lynch’s “Letter to an Unmet
Grandmother;”  break-ups in Mary Mackey’s “L. Tells All;”   sisterhood in Colleen McElroy’s “The Alchemists;” water conservationism in Jane Mead’s “Money;” war and peace in Toni Mirosevich’s “Back Up;”  limitations in Rusty Morrison’s “Our Aptitude For Perishing;” childbirth in Gwynn O’Gara’s “The Spirits That Lend Strength Are
invisible;” compassion and empathy in Connie Post’s “Charlie, A Boy In My Son’s Group Home;” culture in Kim Shuck’s “Going To Water In More Than One Dialect;” sexual assault in Melissa Stein’s “Quarry;”   animal rights in Jennifer K Sweeney’s “In the House of Seals;” the importance of oneness with nature in Laura Walker’s “Genesis;” the wonder of pink roses in Julia Vose’s “Out of Center, Look Back In;” the
weary traveler in Gillian Wegener’s “Road Song, North On 99;” Vision in Toni Wilkes’s “Resilience;” the death of a mother’s child in Leonore Wilson’s “The Tumor;” and an elegy on poet and feminist Sylvia Plath in Kathleen Winter’s “Glamour.”
These poems cover almost every topic known to womanhood, but the most compelling poems are the ones that deal with day-to-day life.  These poems remind us that life continues through the good and the bad; and that we as women will savor the good and conquer through the bad with zest, resistance, and joy.
And even when the despairing, paralyzing, darkening times come where all joy is gone and all the answers are absent we as women are still conquerors by just standing on our own two feet.
Katherine Hastings above right in 2009 and left in 2017.




Come on, girl, get up

 Dance,  dance,

Get up and dance

--Excerpt, Devreaux Baker’s “Dancing At the Round House” 





Devreaux Baker







Ellen Bass









Elizabeth Bradfield








Janine Canan







Maxine Chernoff










Susan Cohen



Elizabeth J. Coleman








Gillian Conoley







Lucille Lang Day









Sharon Doubiago








Susan Kelly-DeWitt












Camille T Dungy












Iris Jamahl Dunkle







Sandy Eastoak










Terry Ehret











Annie Finch












Molly Fisk
http://www.
mollyfisk.com










Miriam Bird Greenberg









Judy Halebsky








Elizabeth Herron







Brenda Hillman









Jane Hirshfield





Jodi Hottel







Maya Khosla








Lynne Knight










Danusha Lameris










Kathleen Lynch











Mary Mackey






Colleen McElroy









Jane Mead







Toni Mirosevich









Rusty Morrison




Gwynn O’Gara








Connie Post





Kim Shuck










Hannah Stein









Melissa Stein







Jennifer K Sweeney





Laura Walker










Gillian Wegener







Arisa White








Toni Wilkes










Leonore Wilson




Kathleen Winter








Pui Ying Wong


Thursday, November 16, 2017

A Woman's Faith Story: From a Life of Sex, Drugs, Alcohol, Despair & Suicide to Complete Joy In Christ . . .

Chris Rice Cooper 

*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

Anonymous Writer’s Faith Story:
“Becoming A Woman After Jesus’s Own Heart!”

I grew up going to church.  My mom always made sure we went even when we didn’t want to. As a child my sisters and I would get involved in children's choirs, VBS, Sunday school, etc. Up until I was a teen this was a lot of fun and I always had faith that God existed.  I knew Jesus was my Friend but still didn’t understand how He was my Savior. (Right - Oldest surviving panel of Jesus Christ - 6th Century)
When I was 13 and living in Fayetteville, North Carolina my older sister and I attended a youth church conference where there were lots of different speakers and musical artists. It was a blast. We got to leave home and stay with a host family.  Each day for about 3 days we would meet up and go to this huge event. That was the weekend I was overpowered by the Holy Spirit and came to understand who Christ was. (Left Holy Spirit as a dove depicted by Gian Lorenzo Bernini)
When I returned that Sunday I scheduled my baptism. My whole family was baptized at this Southern Baptist church near our home. But did I really know what I was doing? Did I know what kind of commitment it was? Or was I just doing it because everyone else did? My sister had also given her life to Christ that weekend so I could have been just following her lead. I will say I don’t think I did fully get it because nothing in my life really changed. (Above "Baptizing the Jordon" attributed to Silas X Floyd)

My dad was in the Army so we moved a lot!   A year later we moved to O’Fallon, IL.  Once we landed here in the middle of these cornfields, we found the First Baptist Church of O’Fallon. That was way back in 1996!
Pastor Doug had been the preacher about a year and I met his lovely wife Vicky  (Right) at a youth event they held there. I didn’t really know anyone so my sister and I went.  I do have two lovely sisters and I’m stuck in the middle.  My younger sister wasn’t a teen yet.  Anyway, at this event Vicky sat down with me personally and asked me if I knew who Jesus was and what He meant to me.  I kind of answered her question but mostly answered with things I have heard others say. And because I wasn’t sure if the last baptism washed away all my sins, I got baptized again that year when I was 14.
So here I am, once again, didn’t really feel like anything was changing. By this time my family life was turning to a war zone. We had all seen it coming over the years and my sisters and I always wondered if divorce was in our future. Sometimes we would wish for it because maybe it would make the fighting stop.
By this age I had started smoking cigarettes because I thought it was cool, which it is totally not cool.  Then I had my first drink at 16. It’s what I thought everyone did that was trying to make the bad in their life go away. Well it didn’t work and my appetite for it only grew.
When I was 16, my uncle committed suicide and it only made my sadness and anger grow tremendously. I was truly lost. But wait, wasn’t life supposed to be all sunshine and sparkles now that I was saved? Wasn’t it supposed to all get better? That’s what I thought being saved and a Christian meant; that life was supposed to get easier. By the time I was 18 I was smoking marijuana and guess what?  It still didn’t work.
Boys were also a fixation of mine and there I went throwing my precious virginity out the door that year as well. It was downhill from there.
My dad had left for a tour in Korea while my mom stayed home and took care of us girls.  My dad being gone was the hardest year. It was awful. I couldn’t wait for him to come home.
By the time I graduated I had dabbled in a same-sex relationship that I thought I wanted and when the end of the school year and graduation came I ended that. I knew deep down inside that it wasn’t right. So I broke it off. My parents found out and, of course, flipped out. But now, as a parent, I would probably do the same.
By this time my dad had returned from Korea and everything had changed. My parents were more distant from each other and fought more frequently. The summer came and went for me, filled with cocaine and acid.  More drugs, more relationships I shouldn’t have had. Boy, I was a mess.
The fall arrived and it was off to college because that’s just what people do. So I left and moved into a dorm, not really wanting to be there. My parents had no clue what I had been up to. Nor did I want to tell them. Unfortunately, my first few days there were filled with alcohol and became a haze. I started my classes but quickly decided I’d rather get high than go to class. So I did. Not having money, I would use my charm to get the boys to buy them for me in exchange for what they really wanted. I tried new drugs for the first time and it made me go deeper down the rabbit hole than ever before. (Above Painting attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)
Come the end of that first semester I was failing classes and truly hit bottom when I tried to commit suicide. I still remember my roommate and another girl across the hall carrying me out to their car and driving me to the hospital.  They got me inside and then the doctors had to pump my stomach to get all the pills out. Scariest thing ever!
That night my mom and family showed up, terrified for what they would find. Considering my mom’s brother had just killed himself two years earlier, it really hit her the hardest.
I was broken and hurting and couldn’t even look them in the face. I told them a little of what I had done but not the whole picture. I dropped out of school and came home. You would have thought after all that this cycle of craziness would have stopped. It didn’t. My parents sent me to rehab, but that didn’t last long. I wasn’t ready to quit. So I didn’t. (Self Portrait of Mental Illness attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)
They moved me to my grandparents’ house thinking that would help to give me my own space. That didn’t work either. You can find drugs and boys anywhere; did you know that? Wasn’t stopping me.  Eventually I did come back home. I still feel terrible sometimes because of the way I treated my grandparents, but I was so lost and they all knew it. I dug myself further into a hole that I so desperately wanted to get out of. I just didn’t know how. (Above Christina's World attributed to Andrew Wyeth)
By that summer my parents divorced. It was long waiting but it came nonetheless. I had gone to my friend’s house to hang out and was going to stay the night. I called home to ask mom and got my dad instead. He was crying. He said he was moving out. I couldn’t believe my ears. As much as I knew this day would come I didn’t think it would happen now. I will say there was a lot I learned in the days to follow of what led up to that but I will not disclose that here. My parents had both made lots of mistakes in their marriage and decided it was best to end it. I couldn’t stay either. I had to leave.
I forgot to mention that I had already met the man of my dreams that year I just didn’t know I would go on to marry him and have his child, my beautiful baby girl. Well, she isn’t a baby anymore.  She’s 11 going on 25!  Well, I moved into his house. He had just graduated from Chiropractic college and was opening a business. Thankfully he needed help and there I was. We started a beautiful relationship and I fell head over heels in love with him. I had never felt that way about a person before and since my own family was falling apart I desperately needed something to hold onto. We had our flaws too, but honestly it was the first real relationship I had ever had. I thank God for bringing us together. (Above "The Bride Under the Canopy" by Marc Chagall")
I still dabbled in things I shouldn’t but one day I woke up and said “No more!” and I quit; at least the hard stuff. I still smoked cigarettes and marijuana, and drank from time to time but it was slowing down.

Eventually that wonderful man and I got married when I was 21 and by the time I was 23 I was pregnant with our daughter. She truly is the gem in my life. She gave me a whole new purpose that I had never known was possible. And the love in my heart grew so much. ("The Waiting and the Reward" attributed to Anna Rose Bain.  Copyright granted by Anna Rose Bain. https://www.artworkbyannarose.com)
I will say that by this point I was starting to realize that God was still there. For the longest time I wondered if He was. Or if He even cared.

After our daughter was about a year and a half old my husband and I took a trip to Panama (Right). Yes, the country. It was beautiful. Aside from our honeymoon it was the longest trip I’d ever been on. And the longest time away from our baby. I learned a lot about myself on that trip. Seeing other sides of the world I’d never seen. I grew just a little.
When I returned I quit smoking cigarettes for good. It
took five tries up until that point but I finally did it.   About two years later though I experienced the worst summer ever: I had still been smoking marijuana up until that year. I was 28.  Would I ever know what it was like to not be dependent on any substances?
My younger sister had been trying to talk to me about God more, and encouraging me to come back to church. I knew what I should do but I still wasn’t sure why. I was ashamed.  I was still broken from all the things I was trying to do to fix myself. I finally realized I couldn’t do it alone anymore. (Right Sad Woman attributed to Johann Heinrich Fussli)
In fact, to get ahold of me once more, He gave me this overpowering anxiety that I had never experienced before. I literally thought I was dying all over again. Three months this lasted. I went to doctors, sought out a pastor friend I had, talked with friends, but still God was saying, “Come to Me.” So I did. That was the summer I went running back to God full speed. And I haven’t stopped since. (Mixed Media of woman running with the birds attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)
That was the summer I found my Savior, the One who could truly wash away all of those ugly sins. I found my God, the Living Water that I so desperately needed to quench my thirst.  I found the One who would heal my broken heart, the One who would cleanse me and make me whole:  the One, my God, my Jesus. (Painting of Jesus attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)
It took me 15 years of heartache and straying from where I first met Jesus to actually come to know Him.   I have done a 180 about 50 times since then.  I know I am forgiven, and loved, and cherished, and worth saving.  It just took me a long time and a very crooked path to figure that out.  (Left sketch attributed to Christal Rice Cooper).
I have grown so deep in my faith, and that growing continues every day. I have joined my church again, gotten involved in women’s ministry, singing with my choir and praise team, gone on a mission trip across the sea, and it won’t stop there. 

I now have a passion for Christ and sharing with others how He has moved in my life. He will continue to move in me the more obedient I become. I never want to go back to the days where I tried to live without Him. He fills me and gives me the strength I need. Every day. I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back! He is set in my heart and I in His! I want Him to use me in ways I never dreamt possible. I want to follow His will for my life. And that...is just the beginning! (Image of Heart attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)
It’s not to say my life has become easy and without problems. Because I still have tons of those. However, now when I need to handle something I learn to pray about and seek Him first. I’m still not perfect at it, but I don’t think I ever will be until I am one day standing face to face with Him. All He wants is my heart. And I’ll tell you dear brothers and sisters, He’s got it!  (Image attributed to Christal Rice Cooper)