True art.

This morning I had a sudden clear memory of a man I knew when I was a kid. Don’t panic; it’s a good memory! He was the father of friends of mine. I’d been talking with (or possibly talking to) my husband about poetry and art. (I know. It sounds a tad pretentious, especially when I was making my breakfast at the time. The Old Boy has learned to just go with the flow.) During the conversation about the difference between true art and simply copying something, even if done really well, I had a sudden memory flash that took me back to my childhood. My friends’ dad was an artist; a good one. I was visiting my friends at the time. For some reason or other I went outside the house and there, in their garage, my friends’ dad was working on a...

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Checks and balances

I recently read a young adult’s book, Making Bombs for Hitler. (It was in a selection of books that Good Reading Magazine asked me to review.) It was about a nine year old girl who was taken from the Ukraine by the Nazis and sent to a labour camp. No, she wasn’t Jewish. It seems the Nazis also kidnapped young people from Poland, the Ukraine and other northern regions and sent them to be slave labour. After all, one couldn’t have any sweet Aryan child doing such dirty, dangerous work. Why, for starters, they’d expect to be paid and fed well. Why do that when you can force children to do the same work for a bowl of turnip soup a day? And, if  they get too weak, or they’re too small to do the work, you can send them to the hospital and...

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New year?

It’s 2016. How did that happen? Where did the year go? I wasn’t finished with it yet; there were still so many things I was going to get done “before Christmas”. Then it was “before the new year”. Now it’ll have to be “before Easter”. The lights in the front garden are gone but the tree is still up. I can’t seem to find the oomph to put the decorations away. It took me long enough to drag them out and put them up…it only feels like a week ago. All that effort expended and it’s over in the blink of an eye. Would it be so bad if the tree stayed up a little longer? It’s rather pretty perched in the corner, there. I’ve been reading various posts on Facebook, along the lines of...

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