Remember Katrina!

Karen found Operation Den. I thought it should go here, since this blog was started because of hurricane Katrina. The pictures and text are both extraordinary.
Thanks, Karen.

Latest News On Stamping Project

Dear Stamping friends,

Thank you to all the wonderful emails from you who are supporting the We Care Card Art Kitsproject. I am encouraged and eager to see your cards, and I'm sure those who receive the card-filled boxes will be so grateful. Our copy-room at USArtQuest is nearly impassable with the 3396 cards and goodie boxes
already received. I can't imagine what 14,400 will look like! (However, I'm open to finding out!) Next we plan on filling the break room.

The amazing store, Mississippi Paper Arts pledged 1/2 of the cards, or 14,400 of the 38,000+ , and even pulled a 24 hour marathon to meet their challenge. Jennifer, a stamp club member and AMAZINGLY terrific lady, did 2000 cards BY HERSELF! Needless to say, she was really hurting the next day. My last call from Carrie said that they did 7,500 in one night, and sent the balance of the cards home with stamp club members. She was telling me, they are planning to go to hospital cafeterias, teacher's lunchrooms and other areas where adults gather, and have someone help teach nurses, teachers and others to stamp and assist in meeting the goal. (What a gal!) As a side-benefit to fulfilling the
project, it is also a great way to teach basic stamping to those who have never stamped. (That will certainly help the stamp industry!) During lunch, anyone can stamp 5 or 10 cards, themselves enjoying a bit of art therapy which I'm sure they could use.

Our plan is to ship 1/2 of the cartons directly to Mississippi Paper Arts. They'll already be filled with the art materials, and await the cards they've made. Then the club members plan on distributing them directly to the community centers, churches, etc. themselves, again helping those folks to make their cards and teach them a bit of card making techniques. A Louisiana VFW women's auxilliary in Union, Lincoln, Ouachita and Morehouse Parrishes will be hand-delivering several hundred boxes, as well. We're still in tuned to ther smaller groups who want to help - and I will be glad to make any phone calls, if there are recommendations. Please just email me privately. In particular, we need
distribution in Alabama. We'll send boxes to other remote areas directly, if there is a group or auxilliary that will do the distribution.

Until next week.
Most kindly,
Susan
Susan Pickering Rothamel
president
USArtQuest, Inc.
7800 Ann Arbor Road
Grass Lake, Michigan 49240 USA
www.usartquest.com

At the Convenience of Others

I've grown very tired of all the propaganda telling me how I'm every bit as human and valuable as a healthy counterpart in this society. How do they figure that is so? Granted there are always going to be examples of those who rose above their disability and still became wealthy and I know they find romance against all the odds. That's the thing about propaganda, it has it's greatest strength when it makes one person's unusual success seem as that which is easily achieved by anyone.



Over the last couple of weeks watching the coverage of Hurricane Katrina certain realities have just for the moment come to light. Not everyone has the means to flee a natural disaster, not the poor, not the disabled, not the elderly. Worse no-one noticed this until after the fact. Even once this truth was evident there were still those who seemed to blame the poor and disabled for not being prepared, some people just don't get it.

I cannot afford to live in the fairy tale that I am anyone's equal. I am not. I cannot keep up if a disaster hits, my survival clearly, depends on the kindness of those around me to help me along at the cost that they themselves are slowed down. Frankly on days I feel really badly, when I am more sick than disabled I often do not feel like putting out any effort to outrun a storm or an earthquake.

If I were superbly wealthy I could hire someone to give a damn, well, hopefully they would give a damn and not run and leave me to sit while the world caves in on me. Many of us are at the mercy of others. we are forced to maintain our lives at the pace others set for us. When we are quiet and out of view we are easily forgotten. I don't know what is more depressing, the state of poverty and poor health, or knowing that society has mostly forgotten you, and there is nothing you can do about it.



The last couple of weeks, while mostly sick in bed, I wondered how I could garner some control of my very existence. That's as far as it will get. I can think about it, for a while, and then it just becomes overwhelming and in order not to sink into depression abandon the demons it stirs up. I pick up the pencils and draw my worst fears, once out I can draw breath easily again, for now.

Sparrow Girl - There are no small floods...

Most morning I would awake to the sound of the pylon drivers at the end of our street. Those were familiar sounds the kind you can easily sleep through. This particular morning was devoid of the usual loud banging which would start at 7 am. I heard voices in the apartment and not my parents voices either. This was highly unusual, people never came calling before 11 am, and those occasions were very few indeed.


There was something very strange about the voices. I tried very hard to listen to what was being said but I could not make it out. I was very unsure that I should come out of my room. Why were there people in my apartment? Why had the pylon drivers not started their banging, and -- this was important -- why had my mother not come to wake me with my morning kiss and take me to have breakfast?

I tried pulling myself up to the window frame in my room, but it was too high up and I kept falling down. It looked like another rainy day. Between tries at listening through the door and pulling myself up to the window I crawled back into bed, my feet got very cold very fast. I would risk mother getting angry if I cam out before she came to get me, those were the rules. So I waited a little longer, until I could not longer stand it.

There were even more voices once the door was opened, exited voices, new voices. Those were people I did not know. was becoming a little more frightened now. I shuffled my way to the living room. I noticed the coat rack was completely full and there were shoes parked by the apartment's outer door, shoes that did not belong to either me or my parents. I hesitated to come around the corner, but I did.

There were a lot of people in my apartment, looking out of the large picture window in the living room. There were many teacups on the table. I had not idea we even had that many tea cups. My mom was not in the living room. If there was tea, maybe she was in the kitchen. I was torn, do I look out the window and find what everyone was so terribly interested in or do I go to find mom? Just then I heard her laugh in the kitchen. so she was there, and she was fine. I could assume then, that these people were permitted entry. that left me free to go to the window.

Whatever it was so absorbed everyone that no -one took any notice of me being the. It was gloomy, barely any daylight, the endless horizon streaked across the back of the landscape, dreary, grey. So what was the excitement? I drew nearer the window, we were on the third floor, single family dwelling, just completed a little while ago were across the street and behind them, nothing, just polder, field, some sheep, and cows. When I got to the window I suddenly found the reason for this early morning gathering. This must actually have been going on for a while as I slept. The whole of the polder was flooded our building was all that stuck out above the water line. Dead bloated cows were floating quietly back and forth on the water.

These people were from below. We were fortunate to live above the flood line. Nothing of ours was caught under water. My bed was dry and warm and safe. some of these kids now drinking milky tea in my living room were not at all so fortunate. This is why they were here. I spent most of the rest of the day helping out as much as a four year old can, with bringing tea, toast and cookies to those who had no place to go but the homes of neighbours above the flood line. There was no telephone, we did not have one, and most probably the lines that other neighbours had were not working. so there was exited shouting back and forth down the gallery lane. Strangers flitted in and out all day with snippets of what was going on. Terribly exciting. It took the scary bits out of the day, the scary bits that were floating bloated and dead on the water. By supper time the water had started to recede. The Dutch are very good at dealing with floods on polders. A very industrious few days followed, the cleaning up.

I don't remember much about the cleanup, after all it was not our apartment getting flooded, that goodness. The occasional neighbour would still drop in, exhausted and telling my mother how it was for them, working their way through soaked belongings. Eventually the pylon drivers started up again first thing in the morning. I still live in apartments, never at ground level, and always on top of a hill. There is nothing very secure when living below sea level, even with scuba gear under the bed. Being Dutch there is tremendous respect for the sea, it represents the force of nature which challenges man or drives them off. I can swim, and row a boat, and I am smart and priviledged enough to live well away from it's reach.

aletta

USArtQuest
My cozy quarters in Lemuria is great for small projects but my cell is clear of distractions so it is here I shall work on my small contribution to the survivers of Katrina. The pledge on joining this order was: " to those votaries who have committed themselves to Making Art A Daily Practice", and for as long as it is a help I am going to try to complete projects of art for the children. Creativity has gotten me through so many troublesome times , and, THOUGH WATER, FOOD, AND SHELTER MAY BE THE NUMBER ONE PRIORITY AT THIS TIME THE MIND OF THE CHILDREN MUST BE HEALED. I believe art is a powerful help to healing. At least, for a short period of time, it diverts the mind from their pain. So, for now I shall concentrate on the children.

I believe that a way will cross your path, to help, so as USArtQuest is the first group I have heard of that can distribute I shall start there. As I get further on this journey I am sure I will hear of other projects but for now I have left over materials scattered all over the floor of my cell and I am in the process of cutting trims, stamping, adding miscelaeous embellishments, and bagging groups of 6 with stamped envelopes , and perhaps, one example card. 

With our thoughts, we make the world

These are the words of Buddha, and I have been thinking about them a lot lately, as I watch the world turning into our worst nightmare.
It seems we have seen it all before - over and again, we have watched New York and other cities being destroyed – whether by aliens, volcanoes, earthquakes or global warming. Destruction is a common theme that runs through so much of our `entertainment’ but when it actually happens there is no Bruce Willis to save us all.
I have read a great deal about `manifesting’ on the net – the modern idea is that you can visualise things into being – prosperity, your dream house, whatever. Art is visualisation – and filmmaking is visualisation on a scale beyond our imaginings – whatever you imagine, a filmmaker, with computer generated imagery, can make it so.
Our small visualisations seem puny against this kind of mass visualisation, but I think it is important that we do combat it in every way we can. Not by being sunnily optimistic in the face of overwhelming evidence that all is not well with the planet, but by countering the negativity, and using our art to visualise a better world, better solutions and better responses to tough times.
As artists, we owe it to a suffering world to spread healing messages through our art and writing. The artists of Lemuria understand this very well, but it seems to me we that maybe we need to stem this tide of negativity and hopelessness that is sweeping over everything. I am still formulating these thoughts, and am not sure where they are leading me, but it is maybe something that other artists can pick up and discuss here at Artists Without Borders.
``With our thoughts, we make the world.”

Listen to your heart...

...and it will show you how to heal.

image by Susan Wolfe

Faucon's Computer Drive

There are many free programs for your computers on offer through the internet, if you need links per Microsoft or other, let me know. Security, art programs, games for kids, and many other things can be downloaded to disks - ask people for spares, maybe? Then the download is easier. All for free! Bless you!

Making New Homes

I am part of a group of people in St. Louis who will be giving refugees a more comfortable place to stay for a while as the water receeds and their houses are rebuilt.

Yesterday I met with a local art group here and we made small journals (just 10 sheets of white paper, a cardstock cover, thread binding, minor embellishments on the cover, an envelope attached to the inside back cover, a little note from us on the inside front cover and a paperclip attached to this first page. We thought this would give them
a place to write important information, thoughts, whatever. I can't believe how quick the work went. I think there were 12 of us working. I had to leave at lunch time, but I hear the group finished up 150 journals in all.

One of our members has contacts with the people cleaning up an old prison to make it homey. She's asking them to make an art room available and we have offered to help fill it with supplies. I don't think she's received a response from them about whether or not it is possible.

I will definitely let you all know how you can be of help as I'm made aware of what is needed.

To those who have lost their homes

As I slide naked into the soothing waters of the bath house, I sigh with relief. It’s ironic that I am so comforted by the water—so many of my southern kinswomen and men are suffering because of the presence of it. I have always felt that water was my home, and indeed, as it makes up the largest part of my physical body, that I was merely one small vessel in a world made of water. My veins are rivers and tributaries of the stuff, and I would be in the same grave danger as New Orleans if my defenses were breached, my precious lifeblood allowed to flow to whatever low point it could find outside the stable boundary of my skin.

From the Water Consciousness website:
All energy requires a conductor. Water is the main conductor of life force (radiant energy) and consciousness at universal level, both in the physical and in the 'Etheric' realms.
For there is an Etheric realm, as there is a physical realm; there are different types of etheric energy, as there are different types of physical energy; and there is etheric water as there is physical water. Let us define these:

· Etheric water is God's thought-form. It is an etheric wave-form of God's radiant energy in the multi-dimensional level of existence.

We call it "The Ocean of Love" in which the multi-universe, universes, galaxies, stars and planets are not actually "floating" but rather, are a part of the whole.

· Physical water holds the Energy Matrix of Consciousness in the Physical Body. This is true for the Planet Earth and all sentient beings on it. The Life force of the Body (Water) is maintained through Breath. Every breath carries a new pulse of Light in the flow of energy through the body. Therefore, Water, Light and Breath maintain life in the Physical realm.

I ponder these deep thoughts about water. I am a constant seeker, uncertain of the truth of the universe, but if God does exist, and if she is anywhere, surely she is in the elemental forms of water, air, fire, earth.

When I see a person who is quite ill in my medical practice, I often hydrate them, and in a few short hours I behold the healing powers of water. Those three molecules--hydrogen, hydrogen, and oxygen, flow into the rivers of the body, plumping the tissues, expanding cell walls like a cellulose sponge in a basin of dishwater. It is remarkable how much better people feel and look when their basic “hydrochemistry” is brought back into balance. But I must be careful not to overburden them—dilute their electrolytes and congest their hearts. The balance must be maintained, with skill and deliberation.

Now we see the world’s hydrochemistry out of balance. We see the destructive power of water, the power that dilutes hope and congests human spirit, and it seems there is no caring presence nearby monitoring the balance, adjusting the flow just so to maintain the health of the organism. What is the plan, where is the god of the elements?

The website I referenced speaks of “the consciousness of water,” and the response of water molecules to speech, thought, emotion, and prayer. I want to believe that this water in its rush to freedom meant no harm. In seeking the beloved, it forgot its power. Each molecule vibrates with hope as it travels toward merger with the open sea, back to elemental wildness. We cannot help but be injured as our captive rushes toward freedom, away from its position as ornament, workhorse, power source.

A dolphin nudges me, gently, then rubs softly against my side and makes a deep clicking noise. I rest my face against her smooth rubbery skin and sigh. My salty tears fall into the collective.

Survivors - Positive Action

"I think we all—this country—owe these people an apology. We still don't know how many of our fellow Americans lost their lives in the Katrina catastrophe. As New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin says, 'It is a number we all fear.' But we do know that a million did survive. They are not refugees. And I hope that everybody in this country and the world stops calling them refugees, because they are not. They are survivors and we, the people, will not let them stand alone. They are Americans." — Oprah

http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200509/tows_past_20050906.jhtml

Stampers Can Help

September 3, 2005

Dear Stamping Friends,
USArtQuest has found a small, yet significant way to help those who
will for some time, be living in makeshift housing of our devastated
south. We know that once the evacuees have reached a point where
essential life-needs are met,they will also need something to keep
their spirits up.

The employees of USArtQuest will begin assembling Card Art Kits on
October 1. These kits are to benefit those suffering from their
overwhelming sense of loss, by providing a bit of art therapy. Hands
can stay creatively busy, while helping hearts heal. Although the
process of evacuating and relocating may take several weeks or
months, our project will also take that long to assemble.

This is how you can participate:
Please gather your friends, your cardstock and pretty Christmas
stamps, new, old, juvenile, pretty, elegant, cute and in-between –
all just begging to be used. Stamp and emboss at least 6
Christmas/Holiday cards WITH ENVELOPES and send them to USArtQuest.

DO NOT color them or do anything to embellish them in any way, other
than to stamp and emboss. Pre-layering images is acceptable. We want
nicely stamped, but plain cards. PLEASE PUT POSTAGE ON THE ENVELOPES
and 6 cards into one zip-lock bag. If you use dark cardstock, please
enclose a piece of white paper, so that personal notes can be written
with regular ballpoint pens.

USArtQuest will supply the brushes, watercolors, stickers, additional
paper/card, markers and the oodles of donated creative materials, as
well as do the assembly, packing and shipping of the kits to the
affected areas. Those who receive the kits will have, for at least a
few hours, the opportunity to sit, paint, embellish and finish the
cards for their friends and family for the holidays. We all know that
something as small as sending or receiving a card can be very
important. But, more importantly, these handmade cards may be the
only gift they can give this year.

Our goal is to send 200 kits, each kit having enough materials for 12
people. (That means a staggering, 72 stamped cards per kit.) If we
receive more cards, then we will assemble as many kits as the cards
support. We would like to ship the first pallet of kits, by mid-
October. If my arrangements to personally distribute the kits does
not happen, (my sister lives in Houston), then we have asked that
Points of Light Foundation and the Salvation Army to begin
distributing the kits in late October.

If you would like to include ribbons, stickers or other creative
materials not commonly carried by USArtQuest, we will also include
them in the kit boxes. If you are able to participate, please begin
sending your cards, with postage attached and/or materials to:

USArtQuest, Inc.
7800 Ann Arbor Road
Grass Lake, MI 49240
ATTN: We Care

With heartfelt thanks and prayers for our neighbors,
Susan
president
Susan Pickering Rothamel
USArtQuest,

Artists Without Borders

Lemuria is a world without borders, status or property. It is no small irony that myth tells us that Lemuria was devastated by events like the Tsunami in South East Asia and the hurricane that devastated New Orleans and surrounding areas. Passport carrying Lemurians are free to wander within any part of this realm. Any artist or writer who is a refugee, has lost their home, had their lives totally dislocated, is entitled to free passports to travel and gain the pyschological support of other travellers.