Some 60% of all federal land as well as most of the East and West coasts are currently subject to drilling bans - many were put in place after a big oil spill off the coast of Santa Barbara, Calif., in 1969.
I did not know that.
CNNMoney.com
A Personal Project Blog of Jennifer S. Flescher
One thing about yoga every day for a year.
A year. It seems like a good amount of time to me... to try something... to feel around inside of it... stretch and grow. And then begin anew.
The first year I learned one thing about oil every day.
The second I practiced yoga.
The third is about to begin...
photo credit: Alternate Angles
Contact
Jennifer S. Flescher
A Note About Sharing
There is always talk about copyright and what it means to own and share and cut and paste words and images.
I am a photographer and a poet. My feeling is that quite a bit of this conversation has to do with the fact that artists are not paid in this country -- that payment gets wrapped up in respect and worth -- and that it gets bloody tiring not having enough money to do the things that we would like to be more comfortable or for our children.
I also think art is necessary to existence. It is too hard to be in the company of art, and if we can spread some bit of it, then that is a gift of this medium. "The best that we can do, when we are fortunate enough to do it, is share and share and share." Thank you to the poet friend who first said this to me. This is my philosophy of art. This is my philosophy of life.
I think it is important to credit and link -- it is important to try not to twist another's intentions -- but I am going to keep putting photos and poems on this blog.
If you see something of yours here and you would like me to take it down, please let me know. I will be happy to oblige and offer my humble apologies for any offense.
I am a photographer and a poet. My feeling is that quite a bit of this conversation has to do with the fact that artists are not paid in this country -- that payment gets wrapped up in respect and worth -- and that it gets bloody tiring not having enough money to do the things that we would like to be more comfortable or for our children.
I also think art is necessary to existence. It is too hard to be in the company of art, and if we can spread some bit of it, then that is a gift of this medium. "The best that we can do, when we are fortunate enough to do it, is share and share and share." Thank you to the poet friend who first said this to me. This is my philosophy of art. This is my philosophy of life.
I think it is important to credit and link -- it is important to try not to twist another's intentions -- but I am going to keep putting photos and poems on this blog.
If you see something of yours here and you would like me to take it down, please let me know. I will be happy to oblige and offer my humble apologies for any offense.
About Me
- Jennifer S. Flescher
- Newton, MA, United States
- I am a media specialist focused on helping parents and students navigate communications in a civic fashion. I have an MsJ in Journalism from Northwestern University and an MFA in Poetry. I am the mother of two children. I am Editor and Publisher of Tuesday; An Art Project.
Blog Archive
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2008
(338)
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May
(31)
- The Refinery
- One Thing
- Indonesia Leaves OPEC
- Global Shock
- Things Will Be Different
- Rememberance
- "No One Cares About The People... Just The Oil."
- Poverty Still Exists Where Royals Monopolize Power
- To Plead Or Not To Plead
- 136 Years Later
- Revengeful Producers
- The Trust
- We Understand
- One Thing
- Something Different
- Repetitive
- Old-fashioned
- M.T.B.E.
- Not Petroleum
- $700 A Year
- Happy Mother's Day
- My Shipping Vessel
- My Father's Subway Stop
- Oil, Oil Everywhere
- No Gas Tax Holiday, PLEASE
- Ships of the Desert
- Fatal In High Concentrations
- The First Family of Oil
- No Comment
- Seranade
- Juxtiposition
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May
(31)
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Time of the Missile
by George Oppen
I remember a square of New York’s Hudson River glinting between warehouses.
Difficult to approach the water below the pier
Swirling, covered with oil the ship at the pier
A steel wall: tons in the water,
Width.
The hand for holding,
Legs for walking,
The eye sees! It floods in on us from here to Jersey tangled in the grey bright air!
Become the realm of nations.
My love, my love,
We are endangered
Totally at last. Look
Anywhere to the sight’s limit: space
Which is viviparous:
Place of the mind
And eye. Which can destroy us,
Re-arrange itself, assert
Its own stone chain reaction.
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