Skip to main content

on the rails



The melting has begun and all along the marsh and the river huge chunks of ice are floating along.  The boys (all three of them!) had a blast tossing in huge snowballs of their own and watching them drift away.


It was a glorious Saturday to be out in the warm sunshine (47 degrees!).  We took the scooters out to the rail trail and walked and wheeled around snow, puddles, sculptures, and tiny promises of spring.  The red hugs and kisses, a favorite of mine of course.


This sculpture is beautiful too... a large bird with two open palms for wings.  About thirty seconds before I hopped on and took this photo both my boys had been sitting on the hands, one on each wing, but they're never in one place for long so I missed the shot.  Such is life.


This part of the trail is dotted with colorful bird houses and in the summer will be completely filled in with greenery offering much needed shade.  There is even one at the beginning of the trail that is a birdhouse disguised as a geocache ;)  


"Clyde" is another one of my favorite pieces on the trail.  This photo doesn't do it justice as the contrasting materials, curves and angles are just so graceful.  He looks pretty happy in the snow. 


I'm looking forward to checking this Alchemical Garden out for the coming season.  The idea of participating in a community gardening project sounds like something this family would love - you know the alchemy of it totally speaks to me!  But today it is snowing yet again, and a balmy 27 degrees.  It was lovely while it lasted.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Inner Alchemy Cards: Build A New World Deck

Our next make-your-own card adventure is finally here! Inner Alchemy Collage: Build A New World Deck (online) is an artful exploration of language, learning, inspiration, and collaboration, that delves into important ideas around activism and systems of oppression. This is a way for us to examine and disrupt harmful dominant narratives, tell new stories, and inspire one another to use our creativity and personal power to help build the collective world we all want to live in! In the end you will have a beautiful and meaningful handmade deck of 35 oracle cards to use as unique a tool for guidance and reflection whenever you need it.  I'm your host,  Mindy Tsonas Choi , an artist, organizer, radical belonging activist, and the founder of the Be Seen Project - a grassroots initiative resourcing BIPOC artist and makers working in activism. Join me along with other stellar artists, makers and co-creators who have also been exploring social justice and activism as part of their creativ

The Cost of Selling Belonging

As someone who use to sell belonging and believed I was creating something universally magical , I now have fresh eyes on the harm that I once caused. I understand what can (and was) incredibly healing and impactful for some, was at the same time excluding, marginalizing and undervaluing others. First, to anyone who ever felt like they did not belong to anything I created because they were unable to afford it or felt like they did not have the social capitol to join -  I am sincerely sorry for not seeing you sooner .   To our entire creative community as a whole, I urge us all to think about belonging in new and equitable ways, and to do the work of dismantling these hierarchical structures that leave so many people out of the circle. We all deserve to have access to creativity and belonging, and I'd go so far as to say both are fundamental basic human needs and rights. Selling belonging can look like... Creating spaces and experiences that can only be accessed by buying in at one,

what's in a name?

It’s May 14, 2020 and I’m on a transnational call with a social worker and translator of the SOS Children’s Village offices in South Korea. It’s 7pm my time and 9am the next day in Korea, which adds to the surreal quality of the moment. It is my first long distance call following my inquiry with the organization documented to be my first place of entry into the system, found in my Korean records (the acquisition of which is an incredible story in and of itself). It was July 21, 1972 and I was 5 months old. It’s a small miracle the organization still exists, and an even bigger blessing that they took such time and care in searching for information and to talk it all through with me in person. I try not to cry as the call connects. What I learn is a lot of small details about that fateful evening which amount to nothing traceable, but still feel like huge missing pieces of my life. I was left near the entrance around 7pm under a small tree, wrapped in a blanket with only a name scribble