I hiked the Phoneline trail in Sabino Canyon yesterday to clear my head and to refresh my creative energy that has been sapped to the bottom of the well from working hard for the Gem Show that opens on the 4th of February. I get closer everyday to meeting my goals but if I had not taken the day yesterday I know that I could not even get close to my bench, to pick up a tool, to make a thing…I can get back to the tasks at hand and have the wonderful ache in my muscles that meant I really pushed myself and opened up a vein of inner energy to draw from.
I slept very little last night and yet I woke so early today, how could I not. I am so proud of what we as a nation has done today, beauty and the pageantry as the peaceful transfer of power was handed over to our counties 44th president.
“We cannot help but believe that the old hatreds
shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve.”
President Barack Obama’s speech was clear and concise, letting all the world know that the times they are a- changing. Click for the text for his speech.
The end of Rev. Joseph Lowery closing prayer brought a beautiful moment of laughter and humor to the solemn ceremony.
"Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- when yellow will be mellow -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- and when white will embrace what is right."
Click here for the complete text of his eloquent prayer.
Inaugural poem
by Elizabeth Alexander
Praise song for the day.
Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.
Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."
We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."
We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."
Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.
What really brought me to tears was the music preformed by Yo-Yo Ma , Itzhak Perlman , Anthony McGill & Gabriela Montero. An original work by composer by John Williams.
Listen to true beauty and true majesty.
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