More women in office. Stand up, speak out, march, run, vote!
For the Daily Prompt: strategy.
strategy
Category Archives: women
Women’s March 2018
My guesstimate is around 2000 people in Port Townsend yesterday, huge range of age, race and gender. Stand up, speak up, march and vote!
And my guess is LOW! The PDN estimates 4000: http://www.peninsuladailynews.com/news/thousands-turn-out-for-peninsula-womens-march-in-port-townsend/.
And more women to run for office. Bravo!
Haller hat
doorway
For Norm 2.0’s Thursday Doors, from the National Museum of Women in the Arts.
reveal 1
My photographs and posts last week were from Maryland and the art is from the National Museum of Women in the Arts: https://nmwa.org/, in Washington, DC.
Today I am going to start reposting the art, along with photographs of the names of the artists and titles of the work.Β The current show is titled “Magnetic Fields”, after the above work by Mildred Thompson, and is about black women abstract artists.
So let’s go through them one by one:
I did not capture the explanations. But the piece on the right is by Judy Chicago.
This one I did:
Threshold and Rest, I did not capture the name of the artist.
Here:
Here:
This is a fabulous and gorgeous museum. I enjoyed exploring it with my family and thought that my mother, an artist, would be very pleased.
For the Daily Prompt: treat!
use of color
For the Daily Prompt: extravagant.
Galatea
This is for photrablogger’s Mundane Monday #3.
This is our local Haller Fountain, a statue of Galatea, taken on Saturday during the Women’s March. I’d like to say the soft focus was on purpose, but that is more of an “alternative fact”.
March for people
My daughter and I marched yesterday.
She decided to come home from college for the weekend, planning to leave Saturday night. I decided not to go to the Seattle Womxn’s march, but do the Port Townsend one and asked her to join me.
We went out to breakfast and then to our small downtown. I no longer have television and look at news sites daily though a bit erratically, so neither of us had a pink hat. I wore my Mad As Hell Doctors t-shirt, my lab coat from working at the National Institutes of Health with the National Cancer Institute Patch, my Rotary name badge and pins gathered from going across the country trying to get medicare for all, single payer health care, from 2009 until now.
Four bus loads went from our county to the Seattle march. We heard that the Bainbridge ferry was FULL. That is, they couldn’t not take any more walk on people. Another thirty people or more flew to the Washington DC march. And in Port Townsend, my guess is that we still had 200-300 people, women, men and children, people in wheelchairs, babies, gay, lesbian, straight, bi, trans, that marched from a small park downtown to the Haller Fountain. Galetea, naked statue at the fountain, sported a pussy hat.
Our local organizer spoke and our House Representative, Derek Kilmer.
Older women spoke about demonstrating over and over in their lives. A friend of mine called me up to help her sing Holly Near’s Singing for Our Lives, making up new verses on the fly. They invited people to speak.
I spoke: “I am one of your local doctors. I want to be able to treat anyone who comes to my clinic. We are one nation: health care for all. No discrimination: medicare for all.”
Home then, and tired. My daughter has decided she wants to learn guitar, to play while people sing. I taught her basic chords and basic strumming. We sang Jamaica Farewell. She picks it up immediately, after all of those years of viola. And she will take one of my father’s guitars back to college.
And this is amazing: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2017/01/21/world/womens-march-pictures.html?smid=fb-share
Blessings all around.
Physicians for a National Health Care Program: http://www.pnhp.org/
Join the circus
These are the Lawnchairs, a local drill team that marched in our Rhododendron Festival festival in 2006.
Sometimes you don’t have to run away to join the circus. I think that our election process is a circus… and I am scared of the clowns.
Break your own rules
If I say “Food fight.” you may think of Animal House.
I think of my mother.
I am in high school in Alexandria, Virginia. My sister is three years younger. We are in the kitchen, it is hot. 99 degrees F and 98 percent humidity and the back door is open. We do not have air conditioning. We are eating watermelon. The old kind: with seeds.
My mother holds up a seed, pinched between her fingers, looking wicked.
My eyes narrow. “If you shoot that, you started it.” …. not in the house, is the unspoken rule that echoes.
She shoots it at me.
We all three start pinching the slick black watermelon pits at each other, laughing like hyenas. In a large kitchen with open shelves and dishes placed on all the shelves, often nested. It devolves into small chunks of watermelon, hurled at each other. No rinds, because of the open shelves. At last we all run out of pits and watermelon and stopped
There is silence while we survey the very impressive mess. There are watermelon seeds everywhere. And the floor is pretty wet.
Watermelon is STICKY.
We laugh more and start cleaning up. I leave for work or school or something.
Later my mother says, “I washed the floor three times before it stopped feeling sticky. And I kept finding watermelon seeds in the dishes on the shelves for the next two years.”
And: “It was worth it.”
The photograph is of my mother in high school.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
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