The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind...

Hatred and fear blind us.
We no longer see each other.
We only see the faces of monsters,
and that gives us the courage
to destroy each other.

- Thich Nhat Hanh

I often say that we all want the same thing in life -
to love and be loved.
Based on what I've seen (and read)
in the past week
I may be wrong.

The shooting in the House of Parliament in Ottawa this week 
reminded me that things are not so simple,
and that sadly,
some people want revenge
more than love.

I heard someone say recently
that they just wished people
would stop killing each other.
I wish for the same,
although I know it'll never happen
because of fear
because of religion
because of ego
because of desperation
because of greed
because of anger
because of empty hearts...

I've just finished a book called
THE HOUSE IN THE SKY
written by Amanda Lindhout,
a Canadian journalist
who reported on wars across the world,
who was captured and tortured as a prisoner 
for over a year in war torn Somalia
with her Australian friend & photographer,
Nigel Brennan.
Books like these always remind me of
how fragile we all are.
Of how much we are a product
of our environment.
Of how easy it is to judge others.
Of how unfair things are in the world.
Of how money matters.
Of how hatred is learned.
Of how there are so many things about the world
I don't understand.

While Amanda was a prisoner there,
she learned that one of her captors watched
as his entire family was killed
when he was a young child.
How can someone like that not hate?
It's not impossible to love again - but very difficult.
Amanda was held captive
for over a year - abused and starved.
How can she not hate?

And yet -
she is choosing to forgive
because she knows hatred
would only poison her heart
and the heart of the world.
xx

(the painting is a young Bob Dylan, acrylic on paper)

they paved paradise and put up a parking lot...

hello friends!

During our week in New York,

I did no sketching at all.

I was too overwhelmed with the people,

the visuals, the noise.

But I knew that as soon as I got back

to my quiet little blue room,

the art would spill out, in its own time. 

So here’s the thing about New York.

I had never been there before.

I’ve been to a few other States,

and to parts of Europe,

and all across Canada,

but never to the Big Apple.

It’s the kind of city

that makes you feel like

ANYTHING GOES.

Like no one’s holding back.

A mish mash of everything.

Sky scrapers

and food trucks and taxis

and red brick apartment buildings

and homeless men and women

and limousines

and ferries and subways

and statues and sirens

and museums

and a dark ocean of people,

constantly moving in every direction.

I loved it.

I loved the energy.

New York reminded me of this:

there are still a lot of good people out there.

There are a lot of fucked up ones too,

but the world is filled with good people, still

and we should remember this in our hearts

when the world seems filled

with such fear and paranoia.

On the subway one night,

exhausted after a long day of walking,

we barely settled in our seats

for the 10 minute ride back

when an older, worn out man

with a clarinet in his hands

slowly walked towards us.

My son (who sat across from me)

looked at me and said (in french),

“I swear to God, if this man starts playing

his clarinet here, I’m gonna piss my pants”.

And what do you think happened?

The man began to play his clarinet.

He stood there while the subway

clinged & clanged down the tracks,

and he played his clarinet.

Beautifully.

My son’s jaw dropped,

the woman who sat next to him

closed her eyes & smiled,

and a young man nearby took off his headphones

and listened to live music instead.

It's one of those moments you just know

will come up in conversation years from now...

"remember in the subway, in New York,

when that old guy started playing his clarinet?!?"

Then in Central Park,

perfect strangers approached us and

kindly asked if we wanted our photo taken

when they saw us admiring one of the fountains.

A young man played the classical guitar,

another played the violin

under one of the archways

and the music resonated around the arches

and made me feel

like heaven was right here on earth.

In Central Park.

On the Brooklyn Bridge,

when I lost one of my maps,

someone behind me picked it up

and returned it to me

when they saw it fall out of my pocket.

At the Brooklyn Academy of Music,

a New Yorker who sat next to me

told me how excited he was

to finally see Robert Plant

and when I told him we were from Canada,

he nearly busted a lung when he yelled:

WELCOME TO NEW YORK!!

and gave us a warm handshake.

There’s a lot about the world I don’t know

and I may be naïve

but I still believe we all want the same thing in life.

To love and to be loved.

To live in peace.

To not be judged.

Yes, there are bad seeds out there,

and had I been mugged on the subway,

I may not be so impressed with NY.

But I wasn’t mugged.

No one was rude.

People were nothing but kind and helpful,

and I think it’s important to remind ourselves

that the good seeds

far outweigh

the bad ones.

I know it's not always easy to trust,

and that everyone's experience is different,

but sometimes - trusting can make

a world of difference.

xx

(oil pastel on paper)