❧❧❧ Whatever you can do or dream, you can BEGIN IT. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Goethe ❧❧❧
❧❧❧ You were born whole, not broken. Sandra Hammel ❧❧❧
My favorite time of the year is May when everything blooms. In my yard it starts with the crocus and just keeps blooming one thing after another. A glorious time of the year. But then, the autumn is also very beautiful....and if you can stand some humidity and heat, the summer is the time for many cultural events. Yes, on Aquidneck Island we have most of our cultural events in the summer. And winter....well, if it weren't for the shoveling, I wouldn't mind it.
This video includes such old movies that they were silent. The years were around 1956 - 1957. The house is where I was born....not in a hospital. The woods across the street from our house - the street where we are pulling the sled is no longer there. Huntington College (now called University) got the land from my dad and made it into a lake. That red sled was painted red by my father and has my name painted on the center slat. I have it in my family room by the Christmas tree. We walked a mile to school, a mile to and from the John Tipton School for lunch and back home again. My dad went to the same elementary school and had the same first grade teacher that I did. It has since been torn down.
I don't expect to get many viewers for this video upload. But it was fun just because I enjoy making videos.
It was a break from the video that is taking a month to make for Darfur.
Have a great Christmas if you celebrate it and, if not, I hope you are healthy and happy. If not, I wish you a better year ahead.
Please, support artists who don't ban use on Youtube.
Cyndi Lauper's True Colors is sung on this video by Eva Cassidy
Lyrics
You with the sad eyes don't be discouraged oh I realize it's hard to take courage in a world full of people you can lose sight of it all and the darkness inside you can make you fell so small
But I see your true colors shining through I see your true colors and that's why I love you so don't be afraid to let them show your true colors true colors are beautiful like a rainbow
Show me a smile then don't be unhappy, can't remember when I last saw you laughing if this world makes you crazy and you've taken all you can bear you call me up because you know I'll be there
And I'll see your true colors shining through I see your true colors and that's why I love you so don't be afraid to let them show your true colors true colors are beautiful like a rainbow.
........................................................... ........................................................... Just couldn't resist.
So, since I stayed up, until the sun was irresistible beauty on snow- I have photos here of the nor'easter snow blizzard from 7:30 a.m. and again at 8:00 a.m. of this Monday morning of December 21, 2009 - Winter Solstice.
Winter officially begins on this shortest day of the year - December 21, except on some years when it is on December 22. Solstice means the sun stands still. The winter solstice is the day when the midday sun is at its lowest point above the horizon. Winter Solstice officially begins at 12:47 pm EST (1747 GMT) when at that exact moment, the earth’s axial tilt puts it the fartherest from the sun.
Today, the shortest day of the year, is followed by the longest night of the year, meaning that it will be getting darker earlier tonight and getting lighter later than normal tomorrow morning.
........................................................... My son - fourth year of five year engineering degree in Boston Christmas break December 19, 2009
Mutua Madrileña Madrid Open 2009 Philipp Kohlschreiber withdrew May 14, Thursday, 2009. Therefore, Rafa had a walk-over into the quarter finals, where he will face fellow countryman Fernando Verdasco.
The match will be at 2 p.m. USA EDT/DST Friday, May 15, 2009
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TRIBUTE to EVALYN JANE HAMMEL WOHLFORD
My dad's sister, the only surviving sibling of five children, and the only girl, has retired from her beloved music - her beautiful piano playing - due to physical limitations. A day she never wanted to come. Upon her retirement after 67 years of sharing her gift of music in the church I grew up in - in Huntington, Indiana - the church is honoring her soon.
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................................................. I Surrender All - hymn Uploaded by WorshipVideo
This is a note I mailed to her recently...
May 10, 2009
Dear Evalyn,
Something dear to me is the wonderful heritage that I carry with me from the days of sitting in the old sanctuary of the East State Street Church of God (the one with the sanctuary that included the sections that could be closed off for Sunday school classes and the nursery in the balcony). The most wonderful memories that are with me today, come from the music, the beautiful “old” hymns that you played and we sang. Thank you, Evalyn, for the gift of music you developed, cherish, nourished my heart with and shared with us all. I owe you a debt that I can never repay ~ I can just be grateful and pass on the blessing.
Also, very meaningful to me were those Sunday nights that the congregation spent the whole evening just singing hymns. I remember Deeny, Stanton and Melba’s daughter, and Karen, Vic and Frieda’s daughter, singing the descants to the congregational singing of He’s the Lily of the Valley. And Vic and Stanton singing the lines to Peace Like a River. I just loved the singing! I could sit as a child, let my mind wander during the sermons, but the music is what always brought me back into the service. A verse of Just As I Am, Softly and Tenderly, I Surrender All or It is Well With My Soul touched my soul where just words never could reach. The music of these hymns still affect me in a very special way.
Please accept my appreciation and gratitude for helping bring music into my life.
With love
................................................. ................................................. Another hymn I grew up with....Softly and Tenderly Used in the movie A Trip to Bountiful - (which I recommend) Uploaded byRRRGroup2
And I sent the following to her inside a card via the church, which is honoring her on May 31, 2009:
The Gift of Music
Dedicated to Evalyn (Hammel) Wohlford
by Sandra Hammel
Music reaches places in us that words just can’t.
Ah, yes, words can lift, inspire, summon us;
But what can wash over us like music?
Enter our inner most sanctuary and become one with our being?
Permeate our mind, our heart, our spirit
and be present with us in our hour of joy,
need
or sadness?
And never fail to be there for us?
Nothing better for the hungering soul
or brimming delight is the music that is always
there for the simple taking and giving.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ An die musik ~ To Music Composed by Franz Schubert
Lyrics O gracious Art, in how many grey hours When life's fierce orbit encompassed me, Have you kindled my heart to warm love, And charmed me into a better world!
Oft has a sigh, issuing from your harp, A sweet, blessed chord of yours, Thrown open the heaven of better times; O gracious Art, for that I thank you!
May 10, 2009
Dear Evalyn,
You have nurtured your gift of music and shared it with so many of us. I want you to know how it touched me and helped me find my own personal relationship with the gift of music. A Chinese grandfather of one of my students once said to me, that a music teacher gives of her soul to her students. We have all been your students in a way. And we have all benefited from you as you have given of your soul to us. I can’t imagine life without the communion music provides for my best self. Music is a sacred gift and it was entrusted to you and you let it sing out beautifully.
With love and affection
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................................................. Softly and Tenderly - another version Uploaded by hoover4000
Evalyn is the girl in the middle My dad is the one holding the ball.
Ferne Wiles Hammel Mother of Evalyn, my dad, Mark, Harold, Jerald and Richard
In a portion of a tribute to her mom, Evalyn wrote this:
...Mom walked with me to Salamonie Avenue to Bessie Branstrator’s home for my piano lessons, which was about 3 ½ miles one way. (Before this, Bessie came to our house.) Mom’s day was busy, but she still took the time and would wait for me, and we returned home and she never seemed to mind the walk. She sat beside me while I practiced because I wanted her there, not because I wouldn't practice, which Mark tells folks. She played hymns, but I don’t recall her helping much with the music.
I enjoyed helping Mom wash clothes because we had a wringer washer, and it was fun sending those sheets, etc., through, but Mom was always watchful that I didn’t get my hands caught in the wringer.
Pop was busy earning a living for his family, and Mom would walk to Grandma and Grandpa Wiles’ home on Walnut Street which was about four miles, and we all walked to church, but I don’t remember minding this. But maybe, my brothers were afraid to say if they did. We had no car, and we attended revival meetings for two weeks, every night except Saturdays, and then sometimes we had church on this night, also. Church was 1.8 miles, and some nights were mighty cold or hot. One cold, cold day, Mom walked to John Tipton school with extra blankets for we kids and then while some of us got rides home, Mom walked back to our home in the frigid weather. I never understood where the other coats came from. This brings back sad memories to me, thinking how cold Mom must have been!
Mom was the buffer between we kids and Pop who was always serious; at least, this is my recollection of him. The summer before I entered high school, Mom made an appointment for me to get my pigtails cut and permed. A cab brought me back to Grandma and Grandpa Hammel’s who lived next door to our house, and as I stood on their sidewalk, Pop asked Mom who that was standing over there. I never knew what Mom told our Pop, but he never said a word to me about me shorn locks.
....our Pop ...said to me as we stood by Mom’s casket, "There lays an angel!"
I’m sure there was mental as well as physical suffering when Mom’s body was taken over by acromegaly (caused by dysfunction of the pituitary gland) which made here bones grow. She told me this happened when she was pregnant with our brother, Mark, so this was the way I always knew her...
...Mom loved to work outdoors and especially in her flower gardens. She had a beautiful variety of Iris, and I wish we still had the yellow rose bush which grew by the sidewalk in the back. She also, mowed the lawn with a push mower, and she would say she walked to Mt. Etna and back when she completed this job. I remember how she would rinse out her wet clothes and hang them on the clothesline to dry before they were laundered.
Evalyn's mom - my Grandma Hammel
On May 10, 1963, Mom had been working in her flower garden in the front of the house, and Pop had been working in his shop in the garage when he looked out and couldn’t see Mom. He found her in the house where she had laid all of the grandkids pictures down, face up. We think she had a premonition that she was not going to be here very long. Pop asked Mom if she would like to ride along to Baer Field to get some lumber. On the way Mom gasped a big breath and was gone just that quickly. Pop said he thought she was choking on her tongue so he tried to get hold of it to help her but with no success. Pop called me from Ft. Wayne with the news. I had lost my best friend and my precious Mom. Our pop was a very distraught and lost man after the death of our Mom, or Mother, as Mark always called her.
But it is many times. Thoughts arrive and compel me to remember them and write them down. But they escape me before I get a paper and pen or sit down at the word processor. Too many times I start to fulfill my list of things to do made the night before and put off the thoughts stirring around inside of me.
The thoughts are about my journey, mostly anchored in my struggling through the blockages rooted from my mother, justice or injustice in the world, my son or loves that have lost out in one way or another.
Sometimes I don’t know if I want to tell someone else my thoughts because it diminishes them by limiting them with words that box them in. Feelings, revelations and inspirational moments are deep, broad and tall. They make me feel alive. And that is the best thing about life. Being alive and feeling the sensation with renewed fullness never gets old. Even though I suppose I am entering the last season of my life, there has been a newness of feeling alive over the last few days. And I have been here before. Life ebbs and flows, that’s just the nature of it, do you agree?
I’m scared to do what I am doing. All those messages that speak to me without solicitation are like orders. And until now, I have carried those messages and voices inside me in the subconscious. The voices don’t want me to follow my bliss. The voices want me to live someone else’s idea of my life. I mentioned that I am scared. I am scared because to follow my bliss means I am not looking to make money, which I am soon going to be debilitatingly short of. But to be fully honest, I have put off my bliss for far too long and I have not used my time as wisely as I could have to get some of my bliss. But how will I ever know if what I have done isn’t just the path I was meant to be on? We don’t know. Nobody knows. Though there are many external voices saying how we should, what we should and when we should do whatever they think. In a way, when someone else says it and we follow whatever it is that they say, we are not thinking for ourselves.
Just in case it is the right thing to do, I am trying to walk a different life. The one that lets me create. Express myself in my writing, compose, sing and play the piano…and touch the rawness of seeing my personal truth and experience with my mother. In a way, I have been growing towards this my whole life. And spurred on by how life has unfolded for me, I have walked into the fire of my personal life consistently. Never being one to duck, cover and deny, getting this far and never feeling taller than I do now is really fine with me.
Raw is something I have always kept for myself. I connect with other people who daringly show their rawness. Do you know raw? Being real? The integrity of being you, putting yourself out there and being vulnerable without the guarded net of pretense? I wasn’t raised to be me. As I have increasingly found out, I was raised to pretend to be happy, fulfill some elusive list of the image required by my mother. And may I be honestly blunt and say that is no way to mother a child. Happiness isn’t something we can know unless we are as close to being our natural glorious selves. We are born to be ourselves. Not some cockemamy image.
I won’t be so honest here as to shortchange my momentary personal reservations, but maybe you don’t want to know too much. In real life, the one where we come face to face with other human beings, so often I find that people don’t want to know about what you really are feeling, thinking or doing. Those times when I sense another put up a shield of “I don’t want to know” or I sense them moving away even though they have taken no step yet to physically move. But I “feel” it, maybe it is in their mind and I have just felt what they are thinking. Maybe this is too much for you?
So much of what we really are experiencing is unknown to even ourselves or we know and are too guarded to let anyone else see or hear us speak what is really going on in our heads and souls.
I think if I wasn’t honest about how I feel about my mother for starters, I would be on antidepressant medication. I am one of those who believes what we emotionally bury is never buried. It will manifest itself in some way. Healthy or not. It is just a demand that the truest and most raw feelings make. We have no choice.
A painting hanging next to me while I type by a VietNamese artist
I never wanted children. My own childhood gave me an adult who is full of self-doubt, unclear messages of what a good family is and love that had holes made by betrayal and the willingness to sacrifice a child for reasons that came from the parent’s unfulfilled happiness. Confusion has been the result because I was always told that I had a Christian family. A loving and caring family. Parents who have never gotten in touch with their own real selves run the risk of being found out by an adult child such as the likes of me. We are the ones who reach for the truth and are willing to live in it even if it means we have to distance ourselves from a parent.
I never wanted to bring a child into this world. I said it out loud to my mother while in sixth grade. I was eleven. The world didn’t seem a place I wanted to put a child in.
It was a huge responsibility to be the one to guide the child and prepare him or her for their destiny.
Then came a boy.
He was in second grade when I met him. Big part of my life.
There was and is Something Special here. It has been deeply painful and difficult. But life handed me Jonathan. And I accepted and received him into my life forever. But with the pain and difficulty there is also the underlying spirit connection that my now son and I have. I don’t know if he feels it. He has never told me. But on some level I believe he does feel it. We are kindred spirits. This is one of those parts of my life that has appeared without my planning, but become such an important part of this time on earth. Life unfolds and if we can look back on it and see the path of the journey, it is like someone has authored your life for you.
I can’t remember the two or three thoughts that compelled me to sit down today and write. And it felt so profound and compelling at the time. But this is what came out in its place.
I am currently doing something that I have always wanted to do. But it is the one thing that has been such a challenge because my body responds in such a way that I can’t breathe when I do it in public. I can speak in public about Darfur to hundreds of people. And I have many times. I have had lobby meetings with U.S. Senators Chafee, Reed and Whitehouse and Representative Kennedy. I have directed, composed for and produced musical presentations with hundreds of children, organized rallies, acted in college and community theatre. I drew the house plans and designed the landscaping for my current home. I won honorable mention in the very first art show that I entered a few years ago. I have traveled alone to Europe and to the southwest. Almost everything I have ever tired has been successful. I have even done this one thing as a lead in a musical years ago. But now I am daring to take this step and I have already failed in my opinion last week. And next Sunday, I am risking it again. It is singing solo in public. It doesn’t matter how much I practice or how many positive thoughts I come up with – put me in front of an audience and breathing seems impossible. I don’t know maybe, it is rooted in my childhood. Not good enough, not encouraged, seeing feelings of inferiority as a core value. They are just people looking at me, but they scare the living daylights out of me. It is not something I can pretend to overcome. Breathing and relaxing the throat muscles is my mountain to overcome. Wouldn’t it be great to actually overcome this and feel the freedom from the fear? If that day ever happens, I’ll get back to you. I would relish that I did this.
You don’t know if you don’t try.
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“Touching is wonder. We think of it as reaching out to know to grow to explore to love to believe. But there is also reaching within . . . An inside touching that comes first.
‘Satori’ is the Zen way of acquiring a new point of view for living and looking. not creating something new – but seeing and touching in a different way. it approaches religion from the inside letting it emerge from man rather than being imposed. It finds a revelation of the divine within human experience, within life itself.”
Please Touch by Edwin M. McMahon and Peter A. Campbell
“The Glory of God is Man Fully Alive” – St. Irenaeus of Lyons
“to believe in God is to know that thing you are shall make you live and it will never make you do anything less.” To Believe in God by Joseph Pintauro
In the 1990's, I had nothing against Hillary Rodham Clinton. Actually, I stood up for her when other women teachers in my teachers' room put her down. But now I feel differently ever since I saw how she has been running her Presidential campaign. I have been trying to learn more about her character and what kind of person she really is. When I first did an internet search on her, I was very surprised at the multiple books written about her and many of them were very negative.
Then I went on Youtube and it has been difficult to find what looks like reliable knowledge there. Either she is a saint or the worst kind of person who lacks dignity and treats others meanly. .........................................................................
......................................................................... CNN Interviews Student Who asks Hillary a Planted Question
Hillary says she is fully vetted. But I don't know as much about her childhood as I do about Barack Obama's childhood. I have seen her behavior over the last several months and I don't like what I have seen. So in an honest search to find out reliable information about Hillary Rodham Clinton I have been doing searches on the internet.
A slightly edited version of this paper was published in the September 2000 issue of Clio’s Psyche, journal of the Psychohistory Forum
“Can you be a misanthrope and still love and enjoy some individuals?“How about a compassionate misanthrope?”That enigmatic thought, expressed in the spring of 1967 by Wellesley sophomore Hillary Rodham in a letter to a friend, provides a valuable clue to the character of Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Last fall, my student Aví Bahadoor and I conducted a study of the political personality of Hillary Clinton.We collected personal data from published biographical materials and political reports, and synthesized these public records into a personality profile using the second edition of the Millon Inventory of Diagnostic Criteria (MIDC), which I adapted from the work of contemporary personality theorist Theodore Millon.
We found that Hillary Clinton’s primary MIDC scale elevations occurred as moderate loadings on the “Ambitious” and “Dominant” dimensions, with a more modest, subsidiary elevation on the “Conscientious” dimension.The Ambitious dimension is anchored at its adaptive pole by self-confidence and at its maladaptive pole by pathological narcissism.The Dominant dimension is anchored by, respectively, authoritativeness and pathological aggressiveness—the latter being conceptually related to “sadistic personality disorder,” listed in the appendix of the revised third edition of the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (1987) as a provisional personality disorder requiring further study.Finally, the Conscientious dimension ranges from conventional respectfulness to self-defeating compulsiveness.
The Millon Index of Personality Styles (1994), employing the label Asserting, describes Ambitious personalities as bold, competitive, and self-assured individuals who easily assume leadership roles, expect others to recognize their special qualities, and often act as though entitled.Dominant personalities—labeled Controlling—enjoy the power to direct others and to evoke obedience and respect.They are tough, competitive, and unsentimental, and often make effective leaders.This amalgam of adaptive narcissism and dominance in Hillary Clinton’s personality profile parallels the recollection of high school classmate Art Curtis, as quoted in Gail Sheehy’s (1999) Hillary’s Choice: “Hillary was very competitive at everything.Even pugnacious.She was very ambitious.”
In this essay I will document some of the enduring personal characteristics that provide the empirical basis for my assessment of Hillary Clinton’s dominant, ambitious personality pattern.
After interviewing many of Clinton’s associates for a New Yorker article (“Hillary the pol,” May 30, 1994) Connie Bruck concluded, “In the end, the sureness about her own judgment—at its extreme, a sense that she alone is wise—is probably Hillary’s cardinal trait.”Evident in Bruck’s assessment is the dogmatic inflexibility characteristic of the cognitive style of highly conscientious, dominant personalities, tinged with the hubris of high ambition.
Commenting on the leadership implications of these traits, Stanley Renshon, in his 1996 book, High Hopes, had this to say: “The view that one knows better than others—period—can lead to imperiousness and cause trouble in one’s relations with others.It has done so in Hillary’s case.”
Renshon’s contention seems to be borne out by Elizabeth Drew.In her book, On the Edge (1994), she wrote that Hillary Clinton’s presence at health care meetings early in the Clinton presidency was a “source of discomfort,” with some attendees finding her “intimidating—hard to argue with and uninterested in the points they made.Mrs. Clinton’s style was very direct.She told people straight out what she thought. . . . Mrs. Clinton displayed a certain impatience.And her humor was biting.”
Drew’s reporting provides evidence of dominant behavior, but what evidence do we have that this is indicative of an enduring, consistent personality pattern rather than a situationally determined response simply reflecting Hillary Clinton’s seriousness of purpose concerning comprehensive health care?
Childhood nicknames sometimes provide a useful index of an individual’s ingrained, central personality traits.Among their mock predictions for seniors, Hillary Rodham’s high school newspaper proclaimed that Hillary’s destiny was to become a nun named “Sister Frigidaire.”“Obviously,” wrote celebrity biographer Norman King in The Woman in the White House (1996), “she was known for her ability to freeze anyone with a glare from her blue eyes.”
Just how tough is Hillary?James Carville, in All’s Fair: Love, War, and Running for President (1994), co-authored with Mary Matalin, put it this way: “Hillary won’t run you down for fun, and she won’t run into a ditch to avoid scratching your fender, but if you are blocking something we need to get done you’ll get run over in a hurry.”Less folksy, if more gravely, Bob Woodward reported in The Choice (1996) that Hillary occasionally “snapped at people, even blew up, providing a momentary glimpse of inner rage.She seemed angry, bottled up.Hillary was smart and determined, knew what she wanted to happen.When she was focused and directed, she often seemed not to recognize when she was hurting people.”
Lani Guinier, who once considered herself close to the Clintons, has written poignantly about this hurt.In “Who’s afraid of Lani Guinier?” (New York Times Magazine, Feb. 27, 1994), she related how, when her nomination for attorney general began to founder, she received neither emotional nor logistical support from her “friends in the White House.”She writes that Hillary Clinton first “breezed by” her in the West Wing “with a casual ‘Hi Kiddo’” and then, when someone tried to tell the first lady that she was there to strategize on her nomination, Hillary “turned slightly and said, ‘Oh’,” and “to no one in particular, announced, ‘I’m thirty minutes late for lunch’.” As Gail Sheehy has commented, “Empathy was not characteristic of Hillary.”
Millon proposes that the primary psychological precursor of an aggressive, controlling personality orientation is parental hostility.Sheehy describes Hillary’s father, Hugh Rodham, as an “authoritarian drillmaster” who “neither offered nor asked for nurturing.”“He was gruff and intolerant and also famously tightfisted: he shut off the heat in the house every night and turned a deaf ear to his children’s complaints that they woke up freezing in the morning.Toughen up was the message.”Sheehy writes that Hillary “tried hard . . . to please her father.”In It Takes a Village, Hillary Clinton wrote, “When I brought home straight A’s from junior high, my father’s only comment was, ‘Well Hillary, that must be an easy school you go to.’”Sheehy suggests that Hillary’s “drive toward perfection, her severe self-discipline and overwhelming need for control” are rooted in the tyranny of her father’s “demand for perfection and his readiness to demean his daughter.”
The foregoing touches primarily on Hillary Clinton’s dominant traits.What do we know about her ambitiousness?In this regard, Renshon writes that “one aspect of Hillary Rodham’s character” that stands out is her confidence in herself, her positions, and her work.Noting that both Bill and Hillary Clinton “are very ambitious and confident,” but that Hillary’s ambition “trumps her husband’s,” Renshon speculates that Hillary “appears to have developed . . . boundary problems” stemming from “her strong self-confidence in the correctness of whatever she does,” in contrast to her husband’s “failure to develop strong internal boundaries.”For both Clintons, the end result is a sense of entitlement—“a tendency to not want to be bound by limits that apply to others.”
It seems difficult to reconcile Hillary Clinton’s personality profile with her “It takes a village” persona.Part of the problem may be that character can be difficult to discern beneath a polished political persona.In one sense, Clinton has learned to soften publicly, as Bruck puts it, what others have viewed as the “hard edges” of her nature.But more importantly, clear perception of Hillary’s character can be easily confounded by her embrace of humanitarian political issues as a vehicle for political expression.Had she remained a Goldwater Republican and subscribed to the agenda of say, a Margaret Thatcher, the character traits that drive her political ambitions might well have been more transparent.The point is that character largely remains a constant, even as ideological values migrate under the press of political socialization.
Acknowledgments
Aví Bahadoor, a biology/pre-med major at the College of St. Benedict, assisted with the data collection for this paper.
A slightly edited version of this paper was published in Clio’s Psyche (Journal of the Psychohistory Forum), vol. 7, no. 2 (September 2000), pp. 65-66.
Hillary Clinton's Culture of Corruption: The Scandal Queen (This article is hard to discern for me because I have followed nothing prior to now about Hillary Clinton. Either this writing is a summary of justifiable criticisms or the author is stating a bunch of lies. What is remarkable and astonishing though is the prolific and similar books on Hillary Clinton about how caustic, demeaning and mean she is to others.) Read the article in full. One of the websites that appears to be more sane can be found at these pages: Arkansas Connections and The Main Page which includes this (click on it and it will enlarge): Bill Clinton speaks about experience, judgment and values
I love my life. I love where I live. And I am passionate about my passions. I love to dance. Necessary to live: music, piano, singing, writing, acting, painting.
I have been fighting for and supporting the arts all my adult life. Since 2004, I have been working with other activists to end the Darfur genocide.
I have traveled to Europe many times since my early twenties. Places I have been: many USA states including Hawaii, Montreal, Canada, Barbados, France, Spain, Luxembourg, England, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Greece and Germany - and have wonderful memories.
My last trip was in May - June 2013 to Spain.
I would like to travel to Europe and Kyoto, Japan.
I love the southwest where I have visited Hopi, Navajo, Zia and San Idlefonso potters.
Life is exciting and I intend to live it full-out to the end.
B.S. and M.M., both in music
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Khartoum, Sudan Stop Genocide Time
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Spain Time
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Melbourne Time
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Hawaii Time
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RAFA NADAL -BRING BACK LONG PANTS - SLEEVELESS TOPS
Double Click on Videos to Enlarge
Darfur - The Abandoned Genocide - a video by Sandra Hammel
Want to help? Call 1~800~GENOCIDE
"May I Suggest" by Susan Werner
Satchita - Playing for Change
Stand By Me ~ Playing for Change
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Genocide is not only a word,
it is crying of the whole human race.
There is nothing redeeming about being silent
when speaking up is the humane thing to do.
The honor and integrity of the human race is at stake.
