Winter Solstice 2022

 Winter Solstice - - - appropriated by Christians,

cashed-in by Hallmark, 

now wholly owned by Amazon

Untitled Mixed Media on Paper

6” x 4” Ruth Ann Howden

Reflection distorts -

The story I tell may or 

may not, still be true

My poems are just lines on paper that spill out like water from a jug, watering young shoots that grow roots to secure the fragile space I occupy. Like Guan Yin at frail edge of lake or river or ocean, contemplating the moon reflecting in water. She risks being present, being focused, being witness.

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“ The economy is a wholly owned subsidiary of the environment and not the other way around.” 

Gaylord Nelson 

For those of us who were in the streets in the 60s and 70s there is now an online group - the Third Act, Seniors working together on climate action. Here is a link to a four minute PBS NewsHour piece on the Third Act: PBS News link to 3rd Act

And check out their website: www.thirdact.org. They are making plans for a day of action on 32123

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This is my question, and yes, I’d like an answer:

All federal contractors are required to provide paid sick time for their employees, but the railroad companies are exempt. Why is that? 

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Because I believe there is magic in all books, even the most scientific / dry texts; the magic is in readers making connections to ideas, sparks of imagination, the sharing of  hope that if these words are put out into the world somehow it makes a difference for the better. The following is a list of some of the books I’ve read in 2022, because they somehow changed my life or just because  

But first, here is a list of online newsletters that have inspired me and often lead me to the 

books I’ve read:

The Marginalian  — Marginalian

Hyperallergic           —  Hyperallergic

Zocalo Square          —  Zocalo Square

The Drift             — The Drift

Dame                       —   Dame

Book Lists

Fiction:

The Return of Faraz Ali by Amina Ahmad

2022,

All Our Missing Hearts

2022

Neruda on the Park by Cleyvis Natera

2022

After Lives by Abdulrazak Gurnah

2022

The Immortal King Rao by Vauhini Vara

2022

The Many Daughters of Afong Moy by Jamie Ford

2022

Horse by Gwendolyn Brooks

2020

Last Bus to Wisdom by Ivan Doig

2015

The Book of Form and Emptiness by Ruth Ozeki

2021

The Love Songs of W.E.B. DuBois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

2021

Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday

2018

The map of the salt and stars by Jennifer Zeynab Joukhadar

2018

The Pages by Hugo Hamilton

2022

The Corpse Flower by Anne Mette Hancock

2021

The Ministry of the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson

2020

Recitatif by Toni Morrison 

2022 — reissued with introduction by Zadie Smith

The Sentence by Louise Erdrich 

2021

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

2021

A Gentleman In Moscow by Amor Towles

2016

Sula by Toni Morrison

1973

Hell of A Book by Jason Mott

2021

Bullet Train by Kotaro Isaka

2010/2021 translation

The Blessing Way by Tony Hillerman 

1970

City of Thieves by David Benioff

2008

Non Fiction

The Monk and the Philosopher by Jean François Revel and Matthieu Ricard

1998

Shelf life by Nadia Wassef 

2022

Catching the Light by Joy Harjo

2022

The Sum of Us by Heather McGhee

2021

How To Do Nothing by Jenny Odell

2019

In My Mother’s House by Kim Chernin

1983

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

2013

These Precious Days by Anne Patchett

2021

Call Them by Their True Names by Rebecca Solnit

2018

The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow new history of humanity

2020

James Baldwin Nothing Personal, foreword by Imani Perry, afterword by Eddie S. Glaube Jr.

2021 — “Talking to Americans is usually extremely uphill work. We are afraid to reveal ourselves 

because we trust ourselves so little.”

Field Guide to Getting Lost by Rebecca Solnit

2005

Don’t Forget Us Here by Mansoor Adafi

2021

Other Reads:

The Moon In the Water by Kathy J. Phillips

2008 — inspiration for my haiku and thoughts on my poetry at the beginning of this blog post

Book of Questions by Pablo Neruda

2022, 3 — new translation by Sara Lisa Paulson, illustrated by Paloma Valdivia

The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury, illustrated by Joseph Mugnaini

1972

The Van Gogh Cafe by Cynthia Rylant

1995

Motionless Journey by Matthieu Ricard

2007

Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Brown

2021

Orwell’s Roses by Rebecca Solnit

2021 “The imagination, like certain wild animals, will not breed in captivity.”

You can’t keep a good woman down by Alice Walker

1971,— first in a short story collection: fantasy of reparation, what Elvis owes for 

appropriating black culture. It’s funny and sad. I read it three times in a row, favorite 

sentence: ‘ you need an honest audience‘

Da Small Pitot Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry

Translated from French to Hawai’i pidgin by Keao NeSmith

2018

Holding Space by Aminata Cairo, PHD

2021

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo

2006

Water by the Spoonful, a Pulitzer Prize winning play by Quiana Alegría Hudes

2012

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad — graphic interpretation by Peter Kuper 

2020, — captured the story using Conrad’s words, but mainly through illustration / layout. 

This would be excellent textbook for a class in graphic-novel writing.

                  My wish for you in the coming year:

Roam wide in your library. Spend time with poetry. Discover graphic novels, 

don’t skip over books marked as young adult, nor miss the children’s 

section with its abundant, fanciful illustrations, and wisdom in a few words . . .

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A gift she gave us

after so many hellos

chance to say goodbye

In memory of

Mary Grace Kekalia

January 7, 1941 — September 19, 2022

And also to honor one of my heroes - artist and underground cartoonist:

Aline Kominsky-Crumb — 1948-2022

ReplyForward

Fall Equinox 2022

 

Untitled (Hula II)
Mixed Media on Paper -- 11" X 14"
Ruth Ann Howden

          Gifts

Softly my room fills

gentle with breeze, generous

caress from the sea

Entangled Series
linen paper, pen, ink, pencil, collage, tape, bamboo
7" X 12" each
Ruth Ann Howden

Ode To My Pain

I just want to lie down

give up now, why even start.

My body aches from inside to out 

and all the joints in between.

How can my head suddenly be 

too heavy for my neck to hold? 

That constant balancing trick seems impossible 

down to my fingers and toes chanting twenty times NO. 

I’ve got to lie down.

I’m trying to make lite of the grief of growing old — 

the counting of people and things let go

my playful side all played out.

These scars are my medals, 

the lines on my face, rewards.

Another birthday, another victory

as still I put one foot in front of the other. 

And not just me, my friends and 

sisters return my gaze, all old.

We still achieve, playing our part —

a helping hand here, a donation there.

Presenting continual challenge for

doctors to puzzle out the pains

and daily supporting Big Pharma’s pills.

What is left? 

Memories yes, 

satisfaction of my decisions

joy of questioning/solving problems

gratitude for chosen home

surprise of new ideas, especially my own, 

but

this too will pass. 

All we can do, according to Ram Dass, is

‘walk each other home’

Slowly moving now in smaller circles

with the aid of our wheeled walkers —

Reciting poems.

Kamakou 

        (4970’ — highest point on Molokai, 

as seen from my front door)

My mountain sits 

in royal repose

accepting all —

shadows and sun

pleas and gratitude 

Displaying patience of centuries

pulling us backwards and forwards in time

balanced in constant change

 

Summer Solstice 2022

 

Untitled — Entanglement 

MixedMedia on Paper

May 2022 — 30” x 12”

Ruth Ann Howden 

WORD SALAD

A salad, best fresh 

full of surprises like pickled beet, 

crunch of cucumber or celery, 

savory dressing, topped with pop of cherry tomato

A poem, best marinated 

in considered combinations, yes surprises – 

in word and beat and thought

A potluck of idle or busy mind

A compulsion or a meandering discovery —

All of the above, yes

This word salad aspires to 

nourish as well as to be enjoyed. 

If there is something not to your taste 

push it to the side of the plate 

and forget it. 

I will not be offended. 

My own pleasure, in a never perfect product,

will not be lessened.

Breaking Bread

Feeling too large

Taking too much space in this small kitchen 

My years of service blatantly displayed

None the less, the daily gatherings around me

Secures my place. After being lovingly washed

And set with cloth and cutlery I hold meal after meal 

Setting freshly baked bread in the table’s center - 

My ritual gift for those who gather 

around Grandmother’s table -

I ask each to say what they are grateful for today 

And what they’ve found to bring them a smile

It’s often the same

Only this sturdy oak table could hold so many blessings

Watching the Mountain 

Long before I found my treasured spot, molten lava welled up from earth’s core and spilled itself into a mountain

Welling up, flowing down

Ridges sharp, or softly curved, formed on the way back to the sea

Wind and rain accented these forms, earthquakes, landslides, erosion

Welling up, flowing down

Eons of change sculpt the ridges, life’s phenomenal growth clings -

This uneven ground we call home/mountain/mother

Welling up, flowing down

The clouds and mist, rain and humid air, reveal the subtle changes in color and curve

The bright sun blanches detail, highlighting the brute strength of rock, giving us the illusion of permanence, stability - convinced it has always been like this

and will always remain, no matter the destruction we impose with our desire to make all surfaces smooth and safe

While at dawn and dusk, the light, shadows, mist, reveal fragile edges being worn away

Long after all humans are gone, the earth will continue 

welling up, flowing down 

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Vernal Equinox 2022

 renewal, ritual, repetition— it’s always dawn somewhere — begin again

I’ve added to my weekly schedule the tending of a butterfly garden in front of our library

“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.“ Cicero

After decades of restlessness, always moving on; I am finally at home - happy contemplating the shadows and changing light on the mountainside without the compulsion to see what’s on other side. As I am tending the butterfly garden, walking, or swimming,  it all feels right for this time of my life/meditative, can’t imagine anything better — I am lucky and grateful.

maybe ruth ann 

we might agree that I am ruth ann

or maybe not

all those photos from yesterdays

- they are someone else

the toddler and child, the

teen and young adult

all the memories and scars

tokens and jewels

these I own, along with official records

and old letters; but I’m only me today

that jewelry, those  photos and documents could be anyone’s

treasures found in thrift shop or estate sale

only the drawings and paintings, a few poems,

cinch me tight - yes, that’s me

we recognize each other, there is no maybe

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I grew up in Southern California, and found it so boring that the adults were always talking about the weather. There isn’t much weather in Southern California. But my parents and aunts and uncle‘s had grown up in North Dakota where weather was a matter of life and death. It drove them out during the depression and drought. Of course they paid attention to the weather. 

I recall an uncle telling me about being lost as a teenager in a snowstorm and following a fence line not knowing if he was heading towards home or not. Luckily he was, but then he said, “I never told mom about it.” He was my grandmother’s baby, it would have been devastating to lose him so young. They tied ropes from the house to the barn so they could get out to milk the cows and feed the animals, and then find their way back. 

I’ve been thinking of this because of the climate crisis, the weather is again a matter of life and death. I saw a headline saying climate scientists were talking about going on strike because they are not being listened to. The inter-governmental panel on climate change has warned us, at the conclusion of a 6,000 page document, that “the window for action is closing.” Our president in his State of the Union address never mentioned the climate crisis.

       One organization that is actively looking to make a positive change is Bill McKibben’s Third Act, and the Banking on Our Future campaign, action we can take together to make major impact

check it out at:

Third Act

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Words are my way working towards a sane/healthy future, often my words explode and come out as shrapnel rather than as the sharpshooter I strive to become. I let them fly anyway, with hope that I will get better at hitting a target in the future. And in the meantime they might add to the narrative of people working together for the greater good, to avoid mass extinction. And so I lob my grenade of a poem - it may be simplistic/stupid, but it lets me vent my frustration 

          Abundance

Take heart America

Yes, it’s sad hurricane and fire

have removed your homes

The ocean rise, super storms

and power outages, are

inconvenient for business as usual

Remember this is a

Country of Abundance. Just

consider all the guns

we own. And we have

phenomenal growth in trash

Abundant trash that 

grows with our abundant

hubris and distrust

We’re also racking up enormous

amounts of certitude to

our delusions

Add to our growing trash all

the violence, trauma

and hopelessness accumulating daily

While the bar is continually rising on

arrogance that can

turn away the needed talents

trying to cross the border, into this country of

abundant confusion and hypocrisy

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renewal, ritual, repetition— it’s always dawn somewhere — begin again

In memory of my New York City cohort 

Eleanor Mefford (July 1942 - August 2021)