Here are more beautiful photographs from Cindy Knoke!

The forest in late fall,

is emptied of people,

full of magical colors,

still and expectant.

Winter is coming!
Cheers to you from Sequoia in the fall~
Here are more beautiful photographs from Cindy Knoke!
The forest in late fall,
is emptied of people,
full of magical colors,
still and expectant.
Winter is coming!
Cheers to you from Sequoia in the fall~
This season is one of my favorite times of year, and I love doing this series on Christmas movies. Throughout the month of December, I will post on several of my favorite Christmas films.
White Christmas, the 1954 film about two former soldier who turn song and dance men and who help their former commander as he attempts to run a floundering ski resort, has special meaning to me. It stars Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, and Rosemary Clooney and was directed by Michael Curtiz. It features the songs of Irving Berlin. As a major piece of American film history, that would be enough to be of interest to me, but it has a much more profound connection.
My parents were both of “the greatest generation,” which is a description with which I agree. They were born and raised during the depression and were part of the multitudes of America who fought and supported World War II. My father was a Marine, and my mother worked in the Signal Corps. This group of Americans had a toughness that was forged in the fire of great tumult, both national and international.
(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Signal_Corps_%28United_States_Army%29)
My mother loved this movie, and it was a tradition in our family to watch it when it aired on television, which was, if I remember correctly, every Christmas Eve. If not that night, then it was always on a nearby night. Of course, as a child who was born a while after World War II, it was all ancient history to me then, but for my mother and father, it spoke directly to their lives and to their hopes and dreams.
Both of my parents have been gone for quite a while now, over 20 years–they were married for 48 years and died within 2 years of each other. As I have become older, I have learned to appreciate what my parents did for us, which, I have to admit, when I was young and stupid, I did not. To paraphrase Mark Twain, –it is amazing how smart my parents got as I got older. And I appreciate and try to continue some of the family traditions, including watching White Christmas, but now with my beloved wife. And now my granddaughter is old enough to begin to appreciate and enjoy these films. I still feel the connection to my Mom and Pop when I watch this movie. This movie speaks to the connection of people, of hope, of joy, of happiness, and of the power of music.
And I wish we would have a white Christmas, and I hope it will happen this year.
Here is an excellent post from Lara Trace Hentz!
NEWS around Indian Country
Acoma Pueblo
Hyperallergic Southwest US editor, Ellie Duke, who has started a series that spotlights members of the region’s art community, and who is also reporting on stories of interest to artists, arts workers, and others working in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and beyond.
Her latest story looks at a legal loophole that is allowing for the export of precious Native American artifacts.
**
How would you feel if the government confiscated your land, sold it to someone else, and tried to force you to change your way of life, all the while telling you it’s for your own good? That’s what Congress did to Indian tribes 125 years ago today when, with devastating results, it passed the Dawes Act.
Source: The Dawes Act: How Congress tried to destroy Indian reservations | OUPblog
**
ORIGINAL PEOPLES
The recent opening of Àbadakone/Continuous Fire/Feu continue…
View original post 997 more words
Here is another excellent post on Horror by the extraordinary blogger,
K. C. Redding-Gonzalez!
Zombie Salmon (the Horror Continues)
For every writer who feels there are just not enough venues in which to sell their work, there are often essays and outbursts from editors who vent their frustration at such claims, citing a certain laziness or lack of talent or persistence in the unpublished. Adding salt to those wounds, they complain that they are overwhelmed by mediocre if not poor writing, and a genuine lack of imagination—never seeing the forest for the trees: that “bad” writing is the price of admission in Horror. Then they go and pull off the scab and suggest that there are “plenty” of resources for the diligent…
I respectfully disagree. If there were, self-publishing would not be so prominent a “remedy” to getting new writing out there, and so many writers would not be giving up on Horror.
What will our Establishment do when the light show that is Stephen King is gone? When…
View original post 3,612 more words
Lauren writes too much
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