Her daughter Persephone was stolen away by Hades when he desired her. In grieving for her lost child, Demeter let the earth go barren and nothing grew. Eventually an arrangement was reached by which Persephone would marry Hades and live with him in the Underworld, but every year for spring and summer she would return to live with her mother - thus, in winter nothing grows, and in spring fertility is restored.

A sheaf of wheat is a common symbol for Demeter.

Mae Linat © 2008

Almost 15 months later after his physical arrival to this place, this constancy has remained, sort of like an axis on which my life as a mother spins steadily, however, fast or slow.

Some constants: my overwhelming determination to preserve, protect, educate, enjoy the Black male I've bore. The feeling which benefits from, but gains no essential value from knowledge/the mind, can only be described as fierce.

Fiercely, I love him. Fiercely, I protect him. Fiercely, there are no conditions.

I know the day will come where protector will no longer be my role. Many things, he will have to learn on his own. Some things are not in my power to teach him. However, I am empowered by Audre Lorde 's essay, Man Child: A Black Lesbian Feminist's Response in Sister Outsider :

"I wish to raise a Black man who will not be destroyed by, nor settle for those corruptions called power by the white fathers who mean his destruction as surely as they mean mine. I wish to raise a Black man who will rcognize that the legitimate objects of his hostility are not women, but the particulars of a structure that programs him to fear and despise women as well as his own Black self. For me (Audre Lorde), this task begins with teaching my son that I do not exist to do his feeling for him."

I do not exist to do his feeling for him. First I think of course not. But then I think how not? An immediate conflict of feelings. A feeling to embrace, a feeling to develop until his manhood, a feeling to let diminish for his benefit.

This journey, the practice of diminishing in tandem with large ties, bonds, care, is just beginning for my son and I. This life comes through us (mothers) and has nothing to do with the mind.
So much we teach them. But how much more they teach us. How joyful and painstaking is this road.

Lord, Lorde , have mercy. Give me the strength to bear his smiles.

A big seminar starting on Friday and moms B'day on Saturday and lot's of work and a photo-job on Sunday and a meeting Friday night. Basically I am set for a busy weekend.

On top of that I didn't sleep much last night as my hubbie needed some listening to. I wonder how a man views his relationship? I don't know about others too much, but in our relationship it is clearly me who "runs the show". I pick him up when he is down, make sure he is inspired and works, ensure he get's food in his body, listen to his whining and admire his strengths. He is such a wonderful man, but he is pretty high maintainance. ha ha ha! He needs a good fix up once in a while. Once I felt it was my time to whine and cry a little. He almost panicked! ha ha ha! :) So I had to wipe my tears and calm him down.

But that's how it's been for most part of my life. People seek me up for advice, a sholder to cry on, etc. I wonder why. I am very short and my sholders are not very soft... But I guess they don't notice that when they are sobbing away.

Personally I am very happy to have a great sobbing-moment on my mothers chubby sholders. Only thing with that is that it takes some time to calm her down afterwards as she instinctively wants to kill whatever, or whoever, made me sob. ha ha! But that is a nice feeling too.

Another hero in my life, apart from mom and hubbie, is my brother. He is just the coolest and most caring person I know. I feel that whatever happens he would be by my side. Of course my mom and hubbie would be too, it's just something slightly different about my brother.  He is my big brother if you get what I mean. And he has made it his mission in life to protect and guard me from anything bad. I think I am lucky to have such an amazing brother.

While I was living abroad I did not tell him about all the adventures I got myself into, I know he would have come from wherever he was to rescue me! ha ha ha! But hey, a girl needs to live a little too and learn from mistakes.

Wow, philosophical moment...

I guess that's more than you guys can take.... (just kiddin')

Robin is the very best thing to ever happen to me. I love her with all my heart. She gave me this special gift of my son Joshua whom I am extremely proud of.

Robin is a wife, a mother, and an author.

Robin you really rock my world. Dont you ever forget it. I love you!!!!!!

Helen murders her mother by suffocating her, wraps the body and then dumps her in the freezer. All pretty cold-blooded stuff you might assume. But then the story of her mother is gradually revealed - how she held the entire family to ransom through her mental illness (sounds a lot like agoraphobia). How her father was the closet person to her but at the mercy of her mother's every whim, leading him to eventually shoot himself, something which she has never got over. She is divorced and all her relationships seem rather dysfunctional once you get past the day to day. Sebold makes all this abundantly clear throughout the book and I got the feeling she was doing it to try to make you feel sorry for Helen. Perhaps it was too blatant a reason but I just didn't buy it somehow. Helen seems to live a rather unremarkable life until this happens and I can't help feeling that if it was caused by her dysfunctional family that something would have happened sooner.

I did not find Helen or any of the other character particularly likeable, with perhaps the exception of her father, although that may be a bias of how Helen remembers him. I found Helen very difficult to relate to. Although I am sure that dealing with senile decline and an ageing parent is heartbreaking and difficult to cope with, I could not empathise with her choice. This was made worse by the fact that she is so cold and calm about it afterwards but clearly in emotional turmoil as she goes off and sleeps with her best friend's son! She then involves her ex-husband and later her daughter in the deceit. There is a point where you think she is going to kill herself but even that I was not convinced by her as I felt no emotional attachment to her as a character. I found her too cold and detached to be realistic to me.

Sebold deals with an incredibly controversial issue and, if you are expecting another Lovely Bones, then this might not be the book for you. I admire her bravery in dealing with issues that never get much press and have a huge social stigma attached to them. I found this book compelling but not exactly enjoyable.

Next on the list is The Gathering by Anne Enright.

Unless your love is not a synonym for physical relation, your love must transcend ordinary relationships. Let me give you an example. A mothers relation with her children is beyond and different from every other relationship. Similarly, if you truly love, you will care, because to love means to care. What about you? Are you a caring lover?

Let me ask you a simple question. Your darling has not bothered to call you for few days. What kind of ideas do you get? Your answer to this question will tell you a lot about your love. Do you suspect that he/she might have fallen in love with somebody else/ or that they are not bothered about you? Or that there may be something wrong, otherwise it is impossible that your lover will not call. Unless your answer is the last one, you need to rethink about your relationship and you may not call it as love.

To love means to give. Love demands that you keep your beloved happy. You forgive them for major blunders. You be with them through everything. Love means to become one with your sweetheart. Unless that happens, it is not love, but a pretense of love. If you love, you must care.

Mom "J" and I went to college together and were in the same pledge class for our sorority.  I had some great times with "J" back in my college days including a scary drive to a not-so-nice part of Pennsylvania to see Tori Amos in concert.  Despite the scariness I always remember the trip as a good time...along with a million other parties, late nights, and many great memories we had.

I'm so happy she has such a wonderful family --- lil "T" is adorable!  You just melt when you see his big blue eyes.

Even though our session started off with lots of rain, a farm that wasn't the best locale for the shoot, and baby "T' not feeling well - we managed to be blessed with the sky opening up to a beautiful blue, finding a 2nd farm with an amazing pumpkin patch perfect for the shoot and lil "T" was a real tropper through it all!  We got some really great fun shots.

J & J - I hope you had a great time and love the photos!

I'm looking forward to photographing lil "T's" 1st birthday party in January!

1. This has to make you smile!  :)

2. Tired some texture to change it up a bit

3.  This one makes me smile from ear to ear...

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9. Precious *sigh*

10.

11.

12

13.

14.

15.

Now... Then..

]]> http://facesandfeatures.wordpress.com/?p=296 Wed, 15 Oct 2008 05:50:45 +0000 facesandfeatures http://facesandfeatures.pl.wordpress.com/2008/10/15/home/ "I love the idea that through the camera i am able to see the future". Amy Arbus

The beauty of photographing people, especially newborns is being able to capture an insight into what their personalities will become, even at 2 weeks. Every photo shoot is different even though sometimes i ask myself - how many different ways can you photograph a baby? But every time, it always surprises and delights me to be able to create an individual story that is unique to every child, to every person.

I get asked often whether i only take photos of babies? No, i take photos of people of all ages and occasions through life. So if there is someone in your family, network or community- a child, partner, parents, friends, or even a special event requiring images, please consider me to tell your story.

My name is Hang Le. I am a Melbourne based female portrait photographer. I have just started this blog so check back often as there are more photos to be uploaded. Sample images can be viewed in the gallery links above: Life, Maternity, Family, Community.

From

"...Each soul earns on its own account; and no bearer of burdens shall bear the burden of another ..." (Qur'an 6:164)

"If any do deeds of righteousness whether male or female, and have faith, they will enter Paradise and not the least injustice will be done to them."  (Qur'an 4:124) The sole purpose and existence of both women and men is to worship God through faith and good deeds, fulfilling their role as God's honorable trustees and witnesses on this earth. "And among His signs is that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that you may live in tranquility with them; and He has brought between you love and mercy.  Truly, in this are signs for those who reflect."  (Qur'an 30:21)

Prophet Mohammed said: "Treat women well and be kind to them; they are your partners and committed helpers."

Motherhood "And We have enjoined upon man to be good to his parents.  With difficulty upon difficulty did his mother bear him and wean him for two years.  Show gratitude Me and your parents; to Me us your final goal."  (Qur'an 31:14)

Motherhood & BirthdaysMy dear little one: You looked like a shining star on your birthday. You were the focus of attention and your face shone with happiness as each one congratulated you. You received lots of gifts as well as prayers and good wishes. That was your day? OR was it? On your birthday, who really did the birth? Was it you or your mother?! Who bore the burdens and went through the hurdles before that day materialized? And who bore the responsibilities of caring and catering for you since I wish you many happy birthdays but I never forget that your birthday is in reality your mother's birthday.

Reflections by Dr. H. Hathut

 Happy Mothers day...Mothers are accorded a special place of honor and respect in Islam.  It is reported that the Prophet stated "Heaven lies at the foot of the Mother".  A mother sacrifices for the well-being of her children. She has many sleepless nights either because her child is sick or because of worries. No one would believe, unless they have experienced it, that older children need more guidance. All you can do is wish for them the best, raise them well, and have them grow up with strong moral values and firm religious background. The mother is the primary teacher of the child, the best well-wisher.   A man once came to Prophet Mohammed and asked "O Messenger of God!  Who among the people is most worthy of my good companionship?"  The Prophet replied: "Your mother."  The man asked who next, the Prophet replied "Your mother." again.  The man repeated the question a third time, and got the same answer,  The man asked once aging, "Who next?", Only then did the Prophet (peace be upon him) reply, "Your father." Imagine how it is for children who did not have a mother. Some children die out of lack of love or have attachment disorders. Our dear Prophet (pbuh) lost both his father before he was born, and his mother at a very young age. How he must have suffered without his two parents to guide him. Yet this is what gave him social consciousness and empathy for other orphans.  So this Mother's Day, and every day, give your mother a hug. No one can replace a mother, or her love.

source: http://www.muslimbridges.org

NOW WHEN I SEEN THIS, TEARS WELLED UP IN MY EYES. FOR SOMEONE WHO GREW UP WITH STRICTS PARENTS, I NEVER EVEN DREAMED OF PUTTING MY HANDS ON MY PARENTS...

NOW THE QUESTION IS "IS IT THE KIDS FAULT OR THE PARENTS FAULT?

DA DOUBLE R-GIVING IT TO YOU LIVE!!!

I remember when I was so young that I did not think in formulated words, but rather, through emotions and senses. And communication was solely an energetic exchange. I remember very specific moments which were so fulfilling to me that I constantly replayed them in my mind. This allowed me to keep those moments fresh for whenever I needed to relive them. I was such a young toddler when I began the practice of replaying memories in my mind. Little did I know that that very act would give me the most unbelievable coping skills to draw from for the rest of my life.

I would often fall and injure myself or get lost and cry, and sometimes I'd be bullied by other children and left all alone. I would close my eyes and recall some of my earliest loving experiences in life. I remember when my mother stood over my crib admiring me as I lightly smacked my lips and nuzzled deeper into the cotton cloth around me. She thought that I was falling asleep, but I would actually just keep my eyelids closed and prolong the process before dreaming so I could hear her breathing and feel her presence above me longer.

I keep so preciously close to me another memory of my mother holding me against her breasts. She held me, her little son, closely as my whimpers would be buried so carelessly into her shirt. She often wore smooth cottons, silks and satins. Her voice so soft and her laughter so alive. My worries would fade as I followed the thumps of her heart against my tired ears. I would gently rise and fall with my mother's breath as I listened to the drum inside her chest beat strong into her arms that held me. I was her baby boy and she loved me for it. This healed my every anxiety. Our hearts would begin at different paces, and I loved it when they eventually beat simultaneously. This was safety, and I knew it. I also somehow found that I could take a piece of that magical moment and recall it in my future times of need.

I recall my mother passing me to her own mother, the matriarch of our enormous family. My head lay loose against my mothers chest for my body to soak in the rhythm of her dancing heart. As she lifted me and gently placed me into my grandmother's chest, I realized a remarkable thing, a gift really. My grandmother had such a strong soul-energy that every person could feel, which was unique to her and only her. But what I realized in my child's deciphering, was that she, the grand woman of our entire lineage, had a beating heart that was just as vital as my mother's. My grandmother seemed to have a resonance of mother earth herself. She, a powerful presence of strength, endurance and respect, was also gifted with the ability to heal the worries and woes of a child. It was at that very young age, in that very precise moment that I realized I was born into a family of great, great women. My mother, my grandmother, my aunts and sisters were all reflections of the life that beats inside of my grandmother's chest. I was the lucky little baby boy at that miraculous moment who got to soak it all in. My gratitude for that moment will forever shape the days of my life. I am able to continue that beautiful feeling of life streaming from my grandmother into my mother, and then to me. Through the generosity of these great woman, I realized that I could become a great man.

Now as I am grown, I honor the synergy of healing energy bestowed to me. I too pass it on; to the children I meet, my peers, my elders, and now to you who read my words. In my difficult times of fear and illness, I close my eyes and recall those powerful moments of genesis and vitality that happened so delicately, many years ago. I realize that it is time for me to share what I have gained in my life with others who may need it. So let us remember the beginning as we progress forward toward a more optimal health. I imagine us now as children on the earth, frantically searching for another drink of mother's milk to comfort and warm our aching bodies. I imagine us now with plump little arms unsteadily reaching up, needing our powder soft skin to be blanketed in touch. Let us feel whole and healthy again. Let us drink of mother earth's crystal waters, touch her soft terrain and find comfort in the beating heart of infinite life.

One that knows my mother is dead. Another that forgets & wants to tell her something.

One where I feel okay. Another where I feel like I'm on the verge of tears.

One where I remember what I was doing. And another where I can't figure out why I am where I am.

One that knows this feeling will abate with time, but still remain. Another that can't fathom such a moment.

One where I know family & friends are here for me. And another where I've never felt so alone.

One where I know my mother is with me. Another where I feel like I can't find her.

Each second my mind bounds from one to the next and then back again. I can't focus. I can't figure out what I'm really feeling. I can't find one word to sum up who I am at this moment. I can't even find a hundred that would say it right.

------------------------------------------

This first full day on my own is half way over. I slept most of it. I hadn't realized how tired I was. Had lunch with friends. Went to the market. Struggled to shop just for myself. I no longer know how to cook for myself, to shop for one. Who's going to eat the other half? Just another reminder. Not like I needed one.

I'm working this evening. Working back into that routine at least. I'm thinking when I get home I might try to do some writing. I've been doing this blog, but little other writing. I need to figure out where that part of my mind is, & what it wants to do: go back & work on draft 2, or move onto something new, maybe something about this. I don't know yet. We'll see.

I hate this. (It amazes me how I can so completely & utterly hate something that doesn't feel real.)

Image: DocLanding via flickr

www.BagsForZaza.blogspot.com has some real beauties up this week, if I do say so myself.  In fact, I just did.  There is something for every gal on your Christmas list, young and old.  For those new to MSJ, this is an adoption fundraiser to bring our daughter home from Colombia.  It started as a family project and has blossomed as we found more people to call family. :o)

The bags and/or purses go up for auction on Tuesday and the highest bidder on Saturday night at 9:00 pm has a little bit more of their Christmas shopping completed.  Purses are the rage, in case you haven't been out of the house lately.  Big bags, handy bags, cutesy bags and just plain versatile bags are IN.

BFZ has also become an addiction for many, but especially my mother.  I truly don't know what she used to do all day long before she was designing award-winning bags... and checking the comments for every single bag dozens of times each day.  She took a sewing break last week, which we have all done in turn, but she had a difficult time knowing that she wouldn't have as many comments to read.  Dad even put a computer in her sewing room, right next to the Singer, for easy access while stitching and ripping out and stitching the beautiful bags.  Such dedication. 

Seriously, how easy are we making your Christmas shopping for you?  It couldn't get any easier.  You don't even have to stay up on the auctions, if you choose not to.  Just pick out a dazzling Bag for Zaza for that special someone on your list, bid $175, and you will read your name up in lights on Saturday night.  It's that easy.  (The bidding starts at $25..... shhhhhh!)

Thanks to all those who have donated fabric, trim and buttons.  Thanks to all who have bid and bid and bid, and STILL don't have a bag.  Thanks to all of our models across North America for showcasing BFZ when you wear your bag.  Thanks to those special women who are spending their not-so-free-time sewing for Zaza.  Blessings upon you ALL!    (Only 72 shopping days until Christmas!  Don't get caught in the MALL on the 24th!)

My Mother: It is not a beauty contest- maybe she is beautiful on the inside- WHERE IT REALLY COUNTS. Didn't you learn anything by watching that old tv show with Tuti, JO (the tomboy), and about 5 others, one was really pretty and rich (she is today a Christian speaker, living in Mt Pleasant TX, I hear her on the radio sometimes), one black [I think she may actually be referring to "Tuti" again here as she was the only black character of record], one chubby, they all lived in a boarding school with an older woman,  and others- it came on around the time of Different Strokes but I can't remember the name of it.    I'm sure Gilmore Girls addressed this issue too....[clearly my mother never watched an episode of Gilmore Girls in its entirety...or The Facts of Life, come to think of it] If you can think of the show let me know, it is driving me crazy.
MOM

Me: It was called the Facts of Life. Consequently that email just made me laugh hard enough to make me alternate between crying and having a coughing fit... But in a good way.

Mom:Thank you for getting back so quickly on the name of the show.   I hate it when that happens-can't remember, my neighbor here at work is in her 30s and said she couldn't remember the name either, she did not watch it very much.
Now the theme show tune is playing in my head...
bye
mom

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have my mother. I am now concerned that there is some type of natural gas leak at my parents house.  I sincerely hope she doesn't try and cook anything.  But since I had to make my own Kraft mac n' cheese from the time I could reach the stove, I'm guessing shes safe.  Or dead.  But hopefully safe.

Either way, I will preserve her memory forever typing madly on a keyboard and humming the theme song from The Facts of Life.

But I'll be more than happy to make you one :)

I've forged this from solid copper, stamped and oxidized and made with love! These can be made for mothers, grandmothers,aunts,teachers.. you name it.. we can work it out!

Come on over to vintagemomcreations!

http://www.vintagemomcreations.etsy.com for details!

Or just leave me a comment here and I'll contact you via Email.

Renita Nunley-Ruiz Self Representing Jewelry Artist #1688

It's not always cute when kids become their parents.