Late Ripeness
“Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year,
I felt a door opening in me and I entered
the clarity of early morning.
One after another my former lives were departing,
like ships, together with their sorrow.
And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas
assigned to my brush came closer,
ready now to be described better than they were before.
I was not separated from people,
grief and pity joined us.
We forget - I kept saying - that we are all children of the King.
For where we come from there is no division
into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be.
We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part
of the gift we received for our long journey.
Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago -
a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror
of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel
staving its hull against a reef - they dwell in us,
waiting for a fulfillment.
I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard,
as are all men and women living at the same time,
whether they are aware of it or not.”
~ Czeslaw Milosz ~
My name is Cristina Jill Mosqueda Cooper. I pause looking at my name, and think about how much there is to explain with those words alone. My mother gave me a name to use in each of my worlds, Cristina for my Cuban life, and Jill for the American life. I suppose it is there were the paradoxes of my life began.
I have been many things in my life, from a housekeeper to a high school history teacher; but no matter what else I did, I was always a writer. I love words and the power and passion which they can be used to create. I love reading words, writing words, speaking words, and listening to words – especially words from people that I love and respect.
It is my desire to live life on my own terms, and willingly or not, I have paid the price demanded, by the world, to be myself. I share my life with Kate, with whom I have lived for the last 23 years, and Miss Merry Margaret, our little mutt who really is the world’s most perfect dog. I also travel, cook, garden, sculpt, and make large messes doing all of the above. Welcome to my world, that is all for now.
Web Site: http://thatisallfornow.com
The Topiary Garden This garden in Columbus, Ohio, depicts Georges Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon On the Ile De La Grande Jatte. I love not only the idea for this unique garden, but also its execution; I hope you find a bit of inspiration, for your own garden — I know I left...
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Souvenir de Dunkerque I found this collection of post cards in an old book; I imagine that they were purchased as memento of the person’s trip, and not necessarily to send to friends and family, based on the fact that there are various views of Dunkirk, France. The back of the...
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He is Waiting for You? I saw this well dressed man, sitting, at a park, near a beach in mid-Florida, without the slightest ounce of pretense. He did not have an animal he was walking or waiting on, there was no newspaper or book or even a journal, to make him looke otherwise...
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Fried Chicken My Mother, and her mother before her, both had a knack for frying chicken; a Sunday dinner favorite. The first time I made fried chicken was when I was in junior high school, and my Home Economics teacher introduced me to buttermilk battered chicken. I was fascinated by the entire process...
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“1930’s Family Camping: York Beach, Maine At Home on the Road” I unexpectedly happened upon this exhibit, at the Smithsonian, and found myself taking a moment to savor a piece of both familiar and foreign history. One of the things I first noticed, when driving through Maine, many years ago, was that...
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Cheese Curls and the Seagulls We came upon this couple, at Nubble Lighthouse, in York, Maine, and absolutely had to stop to photograph their interaction with the seagulls – yes, I asked if I could photograph, and they kindly said yes. Apparently, the majestic gull, shares human’s appreciation for the...
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To love a painting is to feel that this presence is… not an object but a voice. ~ Andre Malraux ~ The Garden Parasol by Frederick Carl Frieseke I love the serenity of this painting. It so beautifully captures my idea of a perfect afternoon, one spent reading in the garden, enjoying the...
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Our Collective Dream, Or Lack Thereof “. . . We choose to go to the Moon! We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our...
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Sitting By My Bedside “One sure window into a person’s soul is his reading list.” ~ Mary B. W. Tabor ~ What are you reading? Are you looking for your next great read? Here is a look at what is sitting by my bedside, and which I am pleased to recommend. Let me...
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National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific Punch Bowl “the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.” ~ Abraham Lincoln, writing to Mrs. Lydia Bixby ~ On Memorial Day, as we stop to remember those who have served our nation, I offer...
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