Garden of Eden Retold by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir


A delightful, grown-up retelling of the old story.

Trelawney Grenfell-Muir's avatarFeminism and Religion

Trelawney bio pictureToday, I came up with a less patriarchal Garden of Eden story:

Endelyn (age 7): “When I think of my soul, in my name “fire-soul,” I think of a powerful wind.”

Me: “That makes sense, since one of the names in the Bible for God/ess is Ruach, which means “breath” or “wind”, but we call it the Holy Spirit. God/ess is also symbolized by the other elements: fire, air, and earth – like when she shaped Eve and Adam out of clay.”

Endelyn, “What? I don’t remember that story.”

Me: “Oh, ok, I’ll tell you.” ……

Here’s the part where I froze momentarily, thinking “how can I tell my children that misogynist failed mentor story? how? how?” <deep breath>

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Who’s to Blame for Patriarchy? by Vanessa Rivera de la Fuente


This just about says it all. Everything I could think of and more. Anyone who thinks it only happens in Latin America, Africa, other places, not in the USA, has not been following the news here.

Vanessa Rivera de la Fuente's avatarFeminism and Religion

Vanessa Rivera de la FuenteA 16 year old girl was drugged and then gang raped by 33 men in Brazil. The police arrested the boyfriend as a suspect. A 30-second video recording the suffering of the girl was uploaded to social networks, as a display of the “omnipotent” power of patriarchy on women’s bodies; a power that not only destroys wombs or bladders but also unbearably wounds the soul.

A woman was attacked in Chile by her ex-husband. Her name is Nabila. He raped her and then ripped out her eyes, in a jealous rage, because she attended a party. Months after they broke up, she dared to have fun without him.

Each day the body of a murdered woman appears somewhere in Latin America. They appear in the middle of the road, in garbage dumps, wrapped in plastic bags, among the woods or on the shore, cut into pieces, impaled with…

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Modern Literature


Gaden’s quiet.  Normally he is shouting, asking questions to which he knows the answers.

I’m thinking, “He must be sick.”

Today he is sitting quietly, feet splayed out, short ginger hair sticking out exactly like Alfalfa’s, chin balanced on his left hand, staring at the silver Apple laptop open on his desk.

We’re reading modern stories in English, stories by Kelly Link, Kevin Barry, Adam Marek, Sarah Hall, Jon McGregor, Jennifer Egan.

Ghosts, robot boyfriends, fake lovers, bull semen distributors.

Astonished reactions, “We get to read adult stories with cuss words!”

They’re seniors in high school, 17, 18, 19.

Two are pregnant; one’s a dad.

 

 

Human Trafficking


Slaves today outnumber all the past,

more than thirty million.

Eleven year old girls,

locked in motel rooms, never see light,

told you’re a whore, worthless, until

they believe it.

Respectable hotels, brothels in disguise.

Senegalese boys chained in hovels, fake

madrassas, sent to beg on streets.

Texas parents of three daughters, forcing them

into prostitution for drugs. Everyone knows;

no one can catch them.

Famous men running sex slave rings, immune

from prosecution.

Young women who think all men watch

pornography; it’s normal.

Innocence promised, endlessly betrayed.

People as commodities.

 

 

 

 

 

The Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos


For years I had read and heard about this place, even attended a lecture by a descendent of one of her frequent guests who actually knew her when he was a child.  This past weekend good friends from Rociada took me there with my best friends from college years, friends from long ago, visiting from California.

I already knew something about Mabel and her friends, famous people who frequented her salon, created the artistic mystique that still hangs over Taos.  When I returned home, I wanted to know more.  Born into Buffalo, NY, high society, she had been married and widowed by the age of 23.  As a young woman she was openly bisexual; her memoir, “Intimate Memories”, provides a frank discussion of this part of her life.  Several years after her first husband’s death, she married the architect Edwin Dodge.  They lived near Florence, Italy, for seven years where she entertained such notables as Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas, and Andre Gide.  After affairs and two suicide attempts, she separated from her husband and moved to Greenich Village.  Eventually, she married her third husband, the painter Maurice Sterne and became a patron of the arts.

In 1917, she and her husband moved to New Mexico.  This changed her life; she lived there until she died 45 years later.  She preferred Taos to Santa Fe, finding the latter “too civilized”.  She found New Mexico “alive” and fell in love with Pueblo culture eventually even cutting her hair to mimic Pueblo style.  Sterne did not find New Mexico to his liking and left.  After their divorce she married her long standing love, Antonio Luhan, a Taos Pueblo man.  They remained married 40 years.

Mabel entertained a nearly endless array of famous artists, writers, and intellectuals:  D.H. Lawrence, Georgia O’Keefe, Willa Cather, Ansel Adams, Carl Jung, Emma Goldberg, Margaret Sanger, the founders of the Taos Society of Artists.  She introduced New York and the east coast to New Mexico through her columns in “The New York Journal”.  Mabel died in 1962.

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A view of the main entrance and the largest portion of the house and grounds.

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A small portion of the kitchen.  Cookies, coffee, fruit infused water, and tea were available in the dining room for hotel guests. Books with historical photos lay out for visitors to read in an adjoining room.

Dennis Hopper bought the house in 1970 and recreated her “salon” hippie style.  In 1977, he sold it to George Otero.  Because of years of neglect, it required extensive restoration.  The Oteros turned it into a non-profit where they held workshops.  The Attiyeh Foundation, its current owners, purchased it in 1996 and run it as a hotel and conference/retreat center.  It costs nothing to visit and wander around.

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This photo was taken from the same spot as the first one, looking to the right instead of toward the entrance.

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While standing there, I looked up into that incredible New Mexico sky.

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A close up view of the entrance.

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Look at all the bird houses.

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Beside the kitchen, out a side door–patio and horno (traditional clay oven) shaded from the afternoon sun.

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Friends chit chatting while I wander around taking photos.

For more details, go to:   http://www.mabeldodgeluhan.com.  This includes history, accommodations, workshops, etc.  The accommodations portion even tells the site visitor who slept in each room when visiting Mabel.

 

 

 

Sacred


Warm summer raindrops on my face

Crimson cardinal drinking in blue birdbath

Feather grass waving in the wind

Last lavender and white iris before first frost

Cups of coffee from Chiapas at 6 in the morning

The sunning rattlesnake lying by my feet

Horses running wild and free

Facebook messages from friends far away

Waterfall’s roar after the thunderstorm

Night songs–coyote, cricket, nighthawk, frogs, hoot owl

Life

Sunday Sunrise ©Dawn Wink

 

Feministing Sarah and Hagar by Vanessa Rivera de la Fuente


This resonates with me in part because I am working on a set of poems written from the viewpoint of these and other Biblical women rather than from the viewpoint of the males who “wrote” the Bible.

Vanessa Rivera de la Fuente's avatarFeminism and Religion

sarah_hagarOne story that has marked my life as a feminist is that of Sarah and Hagar. This is a story of pain and enmity among women under patriarchy that despite its age, is still relevant to illustrate the negative effects of the androcentric socialization. But it can also hold an inspirational feminist reading that leads us towards a reflection on the amazing possibilities of a shift in the way we women look at each other.

Feminism is a political practice, an ethics for living based in an option for women. It is not or should not be a Diploma, a chair where to work from 9:00am to 5:00pm, or an excuse to act from our own privileges against other women. In private and in public, in academia or in the street, in sexual, cultural, intellectual and religious affairs, a feminist is a feminist, without excuses or regrets.

This year I was part of…

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