Jusitce

Justice is no easy project. It's a project left to us by God.

Laws are only a clumsy attempt at justice, quibbling over words and using words to disguise politics, ideology and the will to power.

Justice is work of those with good hearts bolstered by perseverance, noble struggle and a respect for human dignity.

They know that total justice is not possible, but it is the delusion we must believe in.

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USA…We’re #1

(USA ranking among advanced nations)

#1         Child mortality

#1          Military spending

#1          Child obesity

#1          Arms exporting

#1          Child income poverty

#1          Total prison population

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the American budget

annual expenditures in America

Beer                                                     $96 billion

Prisons                                                $80 billion

Soft drinks                                          $65 billion

Lawn care                                           $40 billion

Gambling                                            $34.6 billion

Beauty parlors                                   $30 billion

Sex toys                                              $15 billion

Cosmetic procedures                        $12 billion

Fast food                                             $11.7 billion

Addressing homelessness               $4.5 billion

St. Patrick’s Day                                $4.1 billion

Halloween candy                               $2.8 billion

Over counter teeth whiteners           $1.4 billion

Love...

Are there as many ways to love as there are to kill?

Style

Style lives on the surface.
Style is temporal.
Style is the sidekick of marketing.
Style thwarts individual imagination.
Style is comfort.
Style pretends to be art.
Style is an easy virtue.
Style is fun.

Minor artists have a style.
Great artists have a language.

When...

When someone looks at your art, do they know what you believe in?

The Wet Grass

Every morning I sit with my feet in the wet grass.

I watch the florets of the obedient plant climb the stem,

Popping out translucent purple flowers.

The black-eyed susans nearby are waning

And the tomatoes, orange and red in the garden,

Are calling to be picked.

The insects and birds chatter and chirp

As if they intended this harmony.

Patches of sunlight on the grass are harbingers

Of the hot, humid day to come.

No breeze today, but a blue sky.

All this is a gift to me because

I sit with my feet in the wet grass.