And the generations live on. Daughter Jenna. Grandson Micah. Greta’s granddaughter and great-grandson. Does my heart good to see such beauty in this world. And so much beauty in the words so many of you have sent my way. Thank you. Thank you. I am so very grateful to you.
Big news this week.
I finally found a home for my mother’s Burning Wooden Synagogue paintings. (Burned in Eastern Europe on Kristallnacht.) Some of you may recall that at the end of her life my mother, artist Greta Schreyer painted a series of 6 of these burning synagogues. She said she had to live long enough to find the courage to paint them. They were exhibited in a museum in NY before they came tome when my mother died 10 years ago last October. And here they’ve been, in the studio, all these years.
This week the first shipment of these paintings went to the Skirball Museum – Cincinnati.
I’m incredibly grateful and a bit overwhelmed.
It’s been my decade-long goal to get these to the right museum. I’ve tried again and again. Now that they’re packed and ready, my tears are falling. Not exactly for my mother. I’m so grateful to have found a good home for these. But just before we closed the shipping boxes I began to sob. For the suffering of Jews in these small towns in Poland where these synagogues were set on fire. I said a prayer over them.
And now, off they go.
I started my morning reading this beautiful post from friend Pam L. Houston. As I create the Slipper Camp 2016 – about LOVE – I was struck by Pam’s words: May we all engage with the things that allow us to face the world with love instead of fear, as this ship we are all on together swings its big bow today, back toward the sun. Thank you, Pam Houston for this. I needed it today.
The longest night of the year has passed. And these last weeks have seemed particularly dark, filled with, to borrow a phrase from a friend, empty militancy and compassionless ideology. It’s been harder than ever to have faith in America. Harder than ever to have faith in a lot of things. My solstice prayer this year is that the return of the light will indeed be the return of the light. A long time ago I met Carlos Casteneda in an airport–I was not particularly a fan–but he told me many things I have never forgotten, including how important it is to face the changes in my life with love instead of fear. I don’t always succeed at this of course, but I do try. Dogs help, and music, and great literature, and maybe most of all the natural world. May we all engage with the things that allow us to face the world with love instead of fear, as this ship we are all on together swings its big bow today, back toward the sun.
The little monsters are coming! #grandkidsfriday
So…. Caroline Leavitt wrote a gorgeous essay in Amy Ferris’ powerful anthology, SHADES OF BLUE about how Caroline felt when her son left for college: “Life without Max. The sorrow rides under the joy, like a burr stuck to us, or a rudder propelling us forward. I miss him in all his stages…” Her words made me cry. Because that’s how I feel about our beloved granddaughter Jazz, who lives in Bali, although I never had the words for it before. Yes, we have two incredible grandkids here in town. Yes, we see them every Friday. And of course we adore them. But we only see Jazz about every 6 months. And I often feel I miss her in all her stages. So, because of the clarity from Caroline’s words (thank you!) I will be going to Bali for Jazz’s 8th birthday on April 6. And I’m going to bring some of these cookies with her favorite book titles: Matilda, The BFG, Charlotte’s Web, etc. See you in a few, Jazz!