May this dress remind us that we are the masters of our fates ....

We are not victims of our genes, 

but masters of our fates, 

able to create lives 

overflowing with 

peace, happiness, and love.

Dr. Bruce Lipton 

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no doubt ... this is my religion!!

Desiderata


Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata

Copyright 1952.

no doubt, my dears, no doubt!!

love, mom

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here's to girl power

A Short Story

by David Escobar Galindo

trans. by Jorge D. Piche

The ant climbs up a trunk

carrying a petal on its back;

and if you look closely

that petal is as big as a house

especially compared to the ant that

carries it so olympically.

You ask me: Why couldn't I carry

a petal twice as big as my body and my head?

Ah, but you can, little girl,

but not petals from a dahlia,

rather boxes full of thoughts

and loads of magic hours, and

a wagon of clear dreams, and

a big castle with its fairies:

all the petals that form the soul of

a little girl who speaks and speaks . . . !

love, mom

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We are how we treat each other and nothing more .... this is my religion.

I loved this song the first time I heard it and with the insanity of the leadership this week I needed to share it.  And, as happens so many times when I research different items for this blog, I learned that this song was created for the organization Newtown Kindness, an organization borne out of the loss of Sandy Hook first-grader Charlotte Bacon. The group is committed to promoting acts of kindness and encouraging children to become lifelong contributors to their communities.
(click here to read more)

I HIGHLY suggest that you listen to this song and to its words.  In this dangerous time where human rights and basic dignity is taking hits from people in positions of power and leadership, I believe it is our personal duty to be kind to each, respect each other and that our behavior, the way we act, speak and behave is a reflection of who we are!!
this is my religion!

The Alternate Routes- Nothing More  Live on Craig Ferguson

Nothing More

The Alternate Routes

To be humble, to be kind

It is the giving of the peace in your mind

To a stranger, to a friend...

To give in such a way that has no end

We are love

We are one

We are how we treat each other when the day is done

We are peace

We are war

We are how we treat each other and nothing more

To be bold, to be brave;

It is the thinking that the heart can still be saved

And the darkness can come quick;

The Danger's in the Anger and the hanging on to it

We are love

We are one

We are how we treat each other when the day is done

We are peace

We are war

We are how we treat each other and nothing more

Tell me what it is that you see

A world that's filled with endless possibilities?

Heroes don't look they used to, they look like you do

We are love

We are one

We are how we treat each other when the day is done

We are peace

We are war

We are how we treat each other and nothing more

We are how we treat each other and nothing more

We are how we treat each other

love, mom

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from the arctic tundra .... this is my religion!

Jack Frost

'jack frost's window ...' ©virginiafitzgerald 2018

The door was shut, as doors should be,

Before you went to bed last night;

Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,

And left your window silver white.

He must have waited till you slept;

And not a single word he spoke,

But pencilled o’er the panes and crept

Away again before you woke.

And now you cannot see the hills

Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;

But there are fairer things than these

His fingers traced on every pane.

Rocks and castles towering high;

Hills and dales, and streams and fields;

And knights in armor riding by,

With nodding plumes and shining shields.

And here are little boats, and there

Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;

And yonder, palm trees waving fair

On islands set in silver seas,

And butterflies with gauzy wings;

And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;

And fruit and flowers and all the things

You see when you are sound asleep.

For, creeping softly underneath

The door when all the lights are out,

Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,

And knows the things you think about.

He paints them on the window-pane

In fairy lines with frozen steam;

And when you wake you see again

The lovely things you saw in dream.

Gabriel Setoun 

1861-1930

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Celebrating the wonders of snow ...

December Moon

Before going to bed

After a fall of snow
I look out on the field
Shining there in the moonlight
So calm, untouched and white
Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged

While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,

What worlds of play we'll never know

Sleeping away the cold white night

After a fall of snow. 

May Sarton

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'after the books had been forbidden ...'

in light of the latest insanity out of White House, 

banning the CDC from using words ... 

thank you Billy Collins, Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.

Rain

by Billy Collins

Some time after the books had been forbidden— 

The one about the woman and her daughter,
The one about the boy who spoke poorly—
And after the smoke from the incinerators had cleared,

It was suggested that censorship be extended
To the plover, the wild turkey, and the common moorhen. 

But these birds have done nothing, a few protested.
That is precisely the problem, the loudspeakers answered.

It rained that month day and night.
Men with nets fanned out into the fields
And shouted to each other along the shorelines. 

Teachers disappeared on the way to their cars.

Then the committee came after the morning glory 

For its suggestive furling and unfurling
And the ligustrum and the alstroemeria
Because they were difficult to pronounce and spell.

Then the pine tree for its tricky needles and cones
And parsley and red and yellow peppers for no reason at all. 

You would think the lock and the gate
Would be safe, but that was well before whispering,

Shaking hands on the street,
And hooking an arm around someone’s waist 

Became the subjects of discussion
Across long granite tables behind dark glass doors.

And the rain was constant and cold—fine days
to curl up with a good book, someone joked—
but there were no more books,
just the curling up of people quietly in corners and doorways,

bits of straw floating down the streets
along the curbs into the turbulent rivers and out to sea.

we must #resist this action of censorship!

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today, just let go ....

"She Let Go" 

She let go.She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.She let go of the fear.
She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice.
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word.
She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort.
There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore…
~ Rev. Safire Rose

I discovered this poem yesterday. The words spoke so directly to my heart and gave me some semblance of peace. I hope you find this poem as inspirational as I have. love, mom


"She Let Go" A Poem by Rev. Safire Rose
 Read by Susan B.

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in Autumn ... this is my religion

Starlings

Sometimes when you're driving
alone in autumn, a gust of wind
will sweep forth a sling of starlings
fresh from a maple in late afternoon
and they will fly out of the tree together
one swift movement of bird flight
dipping and rising before you
as if they knew all along
you were coming, as if they
knew your whole day depended
on seeing them there, at that moment
in the last curve of sunlight.

Andrew Green


Remember to look up and around,
Fall is gorgeous, enjoy nature.
love, mom














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no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should ...

This is a poem/prayer that I return to many, many times and wish to share for us all today. Now more then ever these words resonate!!! 

Desiderata 

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Thank you Max Ehrmann. This is my religion.

love, mom

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for the Autumnal Equinox

'two worlds ...' @2015 #fromthelandofdragons

Lines Written in the Days of Growing Darkness

Every year we have been
witness to it: how the
world descends

into a rich mash, in order that
it may resume.
And therefore
who would cry out

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don’t say
it’s easy, but
what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world
be true?

So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day,

though the sun be swinging east,
and the ponds be cold and black,
and the sweets of the year be doomed.

– Mary Oliver



#thisismyreligion


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today, find peace 'Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow' ...

My Dream: A Vision Of Peace 

by ToddMichael St. Pierre

Where the mountains touch the sky,
Where poets DREAM, where eagles fly,
A secret place above the crowd,
Just beneath a silver-lined cloud.

Lift your eyes to a snowy peak,
And see the soon-to-be we seek.
Whisper DREAMS and let them rise,
To the mountains old and wise.

Climbers climb, it's time to try,
Where the mountains touch the sky.
Take me there. Oh take me now,
Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow.

Where the ocean meets the sky,
Where mermaid dance, where seagulls fly,
A place in DREAMS I know so well,
The sea inside a single shell.

Far across the living sea,
A pale blue possibility,
Beyond the castles made of sand,
Tomorrow in a small child's hand.

Only DREAMERS need apply,
Where the ocean meets the sky.
Take me there. Oh take me now,
Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow.

A common ground for one and all,
Behind the crystal waterfall,
Where Peace flows like a mighty stream,
Like Dr. King I have a DREAM.

Imagine such a goal in sight,
For red and yellow, black and white…

New Delhi, Beijing, Kenya, Rome,
Earth is the place that we call home.
Baghdad, Belfast, Tel Aviv,
One race HUMAN, we still believe,
Come DREAM with me...

Where the forests reach the sky,
Wake to DREAMS, and don’t be shy.
We’ll DREAM the world a thorn-less rose;
We’ll plant then watch it as it grows.

We’ll conquer hate with DREAMS of hope,
We’ll DREAM one big kaleidoscope.

Whisper now; let the DREAM begin,
It's time to trust the truth within.
This is where we seek and find…
A place called PEACE for humankind.

DREAM on DREAMERS, hopes are high,
Where the forests reach the sky.
Take me there. Oh take me now,
Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow.

Now, listen close, the future calls...
'Build your bridges and tear down walls! '
For time has taught and so it seems,
Realities are born of DREAMS!

Whisper DREAMS and let them rise,
To the mountains old and wise.

ToddMichael St. Pierre

love, mom

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Today, find the peace of wild things ...

this is my religion ... 

hot rock dress, dover, ma ... july 2013

The Peace Of Wild Things
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry




More and more I turn to this poem and remind myself of its wisdom.  In fact last week I seemed the peace of wild things in the glorious mountains of  Vermont, where the wifi is bad and the peace is very good.
So remember girls, when life gets overwhelming and times seem dark, to go to nature!! (I tend to also make a dress, while out in nature, click here to read more about the creation of my 'hot rock dress ...' :)


love, mom


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how do you pray???

© virginiafitzgerald.com

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
—Mary Oliver

❤️for @mayarovv & @harrietrovniak
love, mom


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may this dress remind us to embrace and celebrate diversity!!

It is time for parents to teach young people early on 

that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength. 

Maya Angelou

link to video and text via Harvard Graduate School of Education

Also to read some of my thoughts about this inspiring speech and diversity, 

please check out my art blog: 

VirginiaCreates

http://virginiafitzgerald.blogspot.com/2016/05/this-is-my-religion-thank-you-donovan.html

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Today, grab a book and de-stress...

pages from one of my altered books

I have never known any distress 

that an hour's reading did not relieve.

Charles de Montesquieu

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May this dress remind us to forget our perfect offering and let the light in!

'eggshell bustier ...' the full story of this sculpture is posted today on my art blog, it is long but interesting :)

"Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."

Anthem ~ Leonard Cohen

Below is a link to the sermons from my church, the UUAC, First Parish of Sherborn, and if you click on this link:
http://uuac.org/worship/sermons-2013/
then click on

Dec 22

That’s How The Light Gets In by Dr. Stephanie May & Rev. Robin Bartlett

to hear a beautiful sermon about this time of year, redemption, forgiveness and faith.

and here is the link to the story of the above dress...
http://virginiafitzgerald.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-bustier-is-leaving-building-story.html

Lyrics

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

#thisismyreligion
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