Paths

It's been a tough week in the news. I'm experiencing a bit of emotional overload, between the developing nuclear crisis and devastation in Japan to the situation in Libya. It was only a few short weeks ago that we celebrated a major success in Egypt. The world is moving and changing at a rapid rate. I don't remember a time in my life when everything felt so critical on our planet all at once, but Chris points out to me that the 1980's were equally unsettled. I was a young teen then, and though I was becoming aware of the world around me, I was still engrossed in my own life and the joys and tragedies that accompanied young love and trying to make the grade in school. But a seed was planted that has been growing for two and half decades.

I was a kid who questioned everything. I wasn't the type of rebel who could be found in detention every day afterschool. I was more of a philosophical rebel. From a young age I questioned the church, denied the safety of nuclear energy, and was the only teen amongst of a group of seasoned activists in "Beyond War" meetings.

Does anyone remember the video by Genesis, Land of Confusion?



Even though I didn't quite understand all that was happening around me, the video definitely struck a chord. On one level, I found it humorous. On another level I thought "what a sad world we live in". I was a senior in high school when it first aired on MTV. The images and lyrics from that video has stuck with me for all these years. It is a testament to how powerful the arts are (music in this case) and how what we put out there for the public to view, read, or hear has perhaps a much greater impact than most realize.

Little by little, I was receiving an "education" that coupled knowledge with my instinctual self. Four years after the video, while I was in college, a marine friend sent me letters from the front lines of "Operation Desert Storm". I didn't understand fully why the U.S. military was over there. I just knew that anything that put my friend's life in danger didn't seem right. Some of my artwork in college began to illustrate my thoughts around war and peace.

After college, my work took another turn. I began to focus on matters of spirit and myth. The work was more gentle in nature and fed my soul at a deep level. I retreated from reading the newspaper or listening to too much news. I focused solely on empowerment through spiritual enlightenment. Those few years felt blissful in many ways. There was a price in that I adopted an intentional ignorance to avoid that which was painful. These years were crucial, though, in helping me to develop a strong sense of self. Maybe it was kind of like creating a spiritual armor that in later years would protect me from the ugliness and pain that surrounds us, much of it brought on by fellow humans.

My work the past four years has come full circle. I started questioning at an early age, and now my art is once again focused on social/political matters. This time though, I feel that the spiritual component is always underneath the surface, urging me to create with empathy and hope, from a kind and understanding space. I recognize that not all issues, or answers, are as simple as we might first think. I realize that the world has an energy crisis and that less than safe measures may seem the only feasible choice. I realize that even though sweatshop conditions are inhumane, that for some it is a price perceived as worthy because the money feeds a family. I realize that war is horrible and disgusting but at times has been fought to genuinely save a people from concentration camps, or in the case with Lybia, to save people from being murdered by their own government.

The bigger issues we face are seldom black and white. There are always shades of grey, and through my art, I am able to explore the varied sides.

When it comes down to it, when a situation is not easily rectified, or if the answers seem unclear, I have chosen to side with what I consider to be the humane choices. So while the thought process may be long and drawn out, and there are shades of grey, I (as most people) eventually come up with a simplified "this way or that way." But, I always recognize that there are other viewpoints. The key is learning how express a viewpoint that opens a productive dialogue rather than one that is done to deafly incite anger with no intention of trying to understand another's viewpoint.

The path I am taking with my art, at this point in my life, is one that I hope does send a message. I hope to teach people about a viewpoint that they may not have previously considered. It doesn't mean that a viewer has to agree with me. I only ask that people that instead of coming to an immediate conclusion about what is "right" that they stop a moment to consider all sides of a situation. This sort of thought process is essential to developing empathy. And empathy for our fellow human being, the earth, the animals...is what I sincerely feel can turn this world around.

We are powerful. There is a conscious choice that we make collectively between living in a world of fear and hatred or a world of love and safety.

Which do you choose?

These lyrics filter through my head often, stirring my emotions as I struggle to find a balance between awareness of what is going on in our world with genuine hope for a better life for all. I choose to visualize that love and beauty prevail, even when life seems so defeating.

In Time We Forget

A clear, easy to understand video about the Chernobyl nuclear disaster and the long term effects it has had on the region and its people.

Today I count my blessings, more so than others. I am home, I am safe, and I know that, at this moment, the ones I love most dearly are healthy and safe as well. I have clean water to drink, warm shelter, and air that I can breathe without worry of radiation poisoning. My home is not crumbled to the ground or floated out to sea. I know where my relatives are and they are easily reachable by phone if I desire peace-of-mind to know that they are okay.

I imagine that the people who live in Japan affected by Friday's Earthquake and Tsunami felt the same way as I do, only seconds before tragedy struck. In a matter of moments, as we all know, life can change.

To survive Friday's record-breaking earthquake was the first feat. As if that wasn't already devastating enough, a Tsunami soon hit that wiped away homes, businesses, airports, roads, and people. The death toll grows each hour, some estimates now at 10,000. The ballooning number of dead is reminiscent of other recent natural disasters that kept us glued to the television set or live newspaper feeds: New Orleans, Haiti, Indonesia. We watch in horror as stories unfold, our hearts sinking while we empathize with those faces who are injured, grieving, and walking around with a sense of deep loss and fear of an unknown future.

Those who survived the earthquake and the tsunami have yet a third possible disaster knocking at their door: Nuclear Meltdown.

A major nuclear power plant in Fukushima has been overheating and leaking radiation for three days and recent news reports say that a meltdown is likely in progress. It's hard to exactly define what a meltdown is, other than an extreme overheating that causes, as far as I can tell, the unit that houses nuclear materials to begin melting thus releasing the inside deadly poisons.

Already, citizens within a 12 mile radius of the power plant have been evacuated. But, if a true meltdown occurs, the consequences will be far reaching beyond a 25 mile wide stretch.

Recently, under the Obama administration, billions of dollars have been allocated for research into growing our nuclear power power facilities in the United States.

Billions of dollars.

Cost alone, and the fact that we could actually be investing that money into SAFE renewable energy research and resources, has me reeling. Add the disregard for human safety, and it is downright heinous.

As people of Japan face the terror of a possible meltdown, maybe we should ask them if they think that nuclear energy is the way to go.

Or, ask someone who survived the Chernobyl disaster, someone who watched loved ones die or whose children and grandchildren have suffered unimaginable illnesses and birth defects.

It's amazing how we have so conveniently chosen to forget the tragedies associated with nuclear power. Three Mile Island was a scare in the late 70's, and Chernobyl was the mother of all Nuclear disasters. (Could this soon change?) We are told that a Chernobyl-like incident won't occur because of new fail-safe precautions. I bet the residents of Japan were told this same thing, with an impressive 6" inch steel encasement "preventing any possibility of a meltdown."

Well, those who were on board the Titanic were told it would never sink.....

I became passionate about nuclear power during my 7th grade history class with Mr. Hutchinson. Nuclear power was a hot topic with the then-operating Maine Yankee. I chose to do a research paper on the subject and remember interviewing a Central Maine Power employee. He was absolutely insistent that our nuclear power plant provide cost-effective safe energy to the people of Maine. Despite his best arguments, at twelve years old I didn't buy it, and I still don't at forty-one.

The Chernobyl disaster occurred April 26, 1986. Pripyat, a city once inhabited by approximately 50,000 people, is today, in 2011, a ghost town with radiation levels far exceeding any level of normalcy by thirty-fold. The original radioactive plume drifted over large parts of the Soviet Union as well as parts of Eastern, Western, and Northern Europe. Over 1,000 humans died in the incident , over 336,000 survivors were resettled, and cancer and birth defects continued to rise dramatically with biological changes occurring at a chromosonal level. Soon after, 45 kilometers of forest turned red and died, and is today known as the "Red Forest". Animals died and suffered, became infertile, or if survived, produced offspring with numerous defects.

The last reactor at Chernobyl was shut down in 2000. Ultimately, 4,000 people are estimated to have died as a direct result of the incident due to cancer deaths.

Maine Yankee in Wiscasset demolished its reactor in 2004. It was a day to be celebrated. Still, though, years later, nucelar waste exists and the question remains; what do we do with it?

Two things for my readers to take from this post today:

1) Count your blessings.

2) Is nuclear power the best long-term energy solution if it means sacrificing peace-of-mind and wellbeing for ourselves and generations of loved ones?

Article about possible meltdown and current radiation exposure status (as of 1:14 p.m. EST 3/13/11)