An article on Rafael Guastavino, his life and his work and one building close to my heart, The Basilica of Saint Lawrence in Asheville, NC.
An article on Rafael Guastavino, his life and his work and one building close to my heart, The Basilica of Saint Lawrence in Asheville, NC.
I'm Catholic. I'm a Catholic in my heart, in my morality and in my soul. I didn't practice Catholicism for a long time — it may well have been forty years. If someone asked me my religion during that time, I said, "I'm a recovering Catholic." Get it?
Stories illustrating contradictions, hypocrisy and moral lessons in my childhood. A discussion about the complexity and fluidity of cultural values.
I'm an American. That's what I say if anyone should ask me my nationality. I'm a mutt made up of various immigrant peoples. My mother's father was the child of a German immigrant mother and an Irish immigrant father. My
What does it feel like to be feared? I don't know. No one that I know is afraid of me. I'm a woman for one thing and I'm not really big although I'd like to lose a little weight. I have a little dog, a five-pound toy poodle named Rikki, a rescue, and he's afraid of me. I'm working on him, conditioning him to my touch and to being around me. His fear has brought out something curious in my own nature, something I don't like. I get frustrated with him sometimes. I say to him, "I've spent lots of money on you. I've loved you. I've taken care of you. Why are you still afraid of me?" Actually I've raised my voice a couple times when I've said this but raising my voice or doing anything that would scare him is counterproductive. It's up to me to keep my anger in check. He can't help being afraid of me any more than I can help being afraid of a wild pack of wolves. That's just an example. There aren't any wolves around here.
Read also Rohingyas Parts I and II in this blog. The Rohingyas are outcasts, circling out from Myanmar’s borders but staying close, not intermingling or assimilating into neighboring countries, but waiting, suspended like oil in water, until they can return …
[Please Read Part I...} Buddhists have a reputation for being gentle. I conjure up an image of a meditating monk being harrassed by a fly. It lands on his nose but he maintains his peaceful composure. That's how we think of Buddhists. They wouldn't swat a fly. I've been looking at videos of the massacre. Houses are burning and people are running about trying to get away. There are photos of bodies lying on a beach and horrible living conditions for the homeless Muslim Rohingyas. This isn't how I think of Buddhists. What's wrong? Why do these Buddhists hate these Muslims? Why do the Rakhines hate the Rohingyas? There must be a good reason. What is behind it?
Note: In Burma/Myanmar some names have changed. In this post I will use the term Myanmar instead of Burma, Rakhine as a state name instead of Arakan, and Rohingya instead of Bengali for the Muslim minority living in Rakhine state. …