Thank You Johnny

I prayed for you tonight really hard and I prayed really hard for Tony's health last night...I was on my knees both nights. Stay strong...God loves you!


Here's a little story about Keith Richards and his "Blind Angel"....

In 1979, the Rolling Stones played two concerts for the blind at the Civic Auditorium in Oshawa, Ontario. The shows were done in lieu of a jail sentence for guitarist Keith Richards, who was convicted of heroin possession in Toronto two years earlier.

A Stones fan from Quebec City, Rita Bedard, convinced Judge Lloyd Graburn to allow the band to play the benefit shows instead of jailing Richards. Richards referred to Bedard, who's legally blind, as "my Blind Angel," and although he forgot her real name over the years, managed to have his staff track her down in 1994 to invite her to a Stones concert in Toronto.


and in a performance at Montreal 2003....

Keith got a huge applause and had to interrupt and tell everyone, "hey, I've got a show to do!" laughing of course.... He did a brilliant "Slipping Away" very clear, heartfelt vocals...close to the studio version. The crowd gave him love all night. Keith dedicated it to "his blind angel, Rita....She knows", he said. ...The girl who helped bail him out with the judge in Toronto in '77. Rita was in attendance for the show.

After a thunderous welcome from the crowd when Mick introduced him, Keith quieted us all down and then made a very rare dedication as he peered through the lights to pick out 'Blind Angel, 'Rita'. He waved out in her direction and began to sing Slipping Away. It was electrifying, very emotional and beautifully played.

_________________________________________________________________

I was at a meeting the other day, talking to my friend Hannah. An older women, she's just very jolly. She's such a good reader. Eloquent. She reminds me of santa clause. She wears this huge, russian-looking fur hat. I think this is why assumed she had money. She always asks me for rides to Pathmark after the meeting. Not sure what I assumed she was doing at Pathmark at 10 PM every night, but I never really thought of it. She was talking about some guy that pisses her off, and she mentions sort of peripherally that she was homeless. Shame on me, I thought. Shame on someone. Shame. Shame. Shame. I hugged her and she almost started crying. What does homelessness look like? Not her. Not her. There was nothing I could give her, excpet a ride. I don't have a penny to my name. There's nothing but white space in the refrigerator. Maybe a home for her dog, her best friend? I have a cat I can barely take care of. We waited outside for my friend who was driving. It was freezing and it felt like we were standing outside, waiting, forever. It was cold. She offered me a coat. I took it. It was the only gift I could give her.

"The first step is Love, the second, mercy"

Joe Connelly, Bringing Out The Dead

What I Believe (Article)

Liz Schylinski ’06 in the Post – Standard

What I Believe
Saturday, November 04, 2006
By Liz Schylinski

I believe it's inevitable that we hurt the ones we love and cut people off in traffic.

We say things we don't mean, kiss people we shouldn't. I believe that reality becomes apparent on Sunday afternoons while grocery shopping.

I believe that blue-skied days come and go without the chance to go for a walk in the sunshine, that time is sometimes wasted, hearts are sometimes broken. But I believe that everyone experiences these things.

It is the lack of attention to these similar, small experiences that creates hate and divides this world. We become obsessed with being right, money, power and greed. I believe we forget our commonality. Sometimes I would like to ask government officials or chief executive officers or big men in big suits: How do you live? I'd like to sit with them for an hour, talking about the people they have loved and lost with, the people who have made them weep and laugh and given them faith.

I have a feeling that their answers would contain themes similar to those of the world's garbagemen, the grocery store clerks, or the men and women who eat at soup kitchens. Whether you make $200,000 a year or $4 and hour, you still have stories about your parents; you have people who have hurt you; you have people who have supported you at one time or another. I believe these things unite us.

I believe coffee is best served black and water with lemon. I believe that magic hides in the smell of dusk in July and in dewy mornings in September. I believe passion can be found in the scribbles falling from the tip of my pen, in the thoughts peppering the pages of Virginia Woolf and in rainy runs.

I believe that everyone should read the Sunday paper, listen to the Beatles and take vitamins. I believe it's important to say thank you at the grocery store and acknowledge that things will fall apart and you will cry. I believe it's important to cry and to learn to be alone. I believe you must take things as they come, that tomorrow isn't promised and the realization of that is sometimes very difficult to comprehend.

I believe that if you care about something you should stick with it, that there are some times when you can change your mind and times when you shouldn't, and knowing the difference is crucial. I believe it's important to have routines, keep promises and respect those who understand if you don't do either once in awhile.

I believe it's important to go to the public library every month for nothing more than a reminder that you are a part of a bigger society and that books and reading and writing are so very important.

I believe it's important to try things out, to know what you believe in and "be the change you wish to see," as Gandhi urged.

I believe we must embrace leadership roles and take chances as they come our way. I believe it's important to forgive, to pay attention, to love the little things: to find the sweat shirt you are most comfortable in and the CD you can't live without. We must create our lives into our own masterpieces.

I believe in "delicious ambiguity," the power of forgiveness, of memories, of simple calls just to say "hello." I believe in the love of my mom, being brave and acknowledging when you are wrong.

I believe that Le Moyne College gets education right in educating the "whole person," that Barnes & Noble is the best place to buy books and have coffee, and that anything you would ever need in life can be found on Erie Boulevard.

I believe that falling in love is hard, but it's worth a shot. I believe that driving and running cure anxiety. I believe in watching reruns of Nickelodeon and Sunday night TV and working hard.

I believe in different ideas and different ways of thinking. I believe in listening, loving and learning to believe in each other.
--

GIVING OF MYSELF

And whoever is chief among you
Let him be servent
Even as the Son of man come not to be minister unto,
But to minister,
And to give his life a ransom for many.

MATTHEW 20: 27-28

Patrick Laffey Photography

Yesterday I had coffee with two amazing artist friends. One, I knew about and the second, I was delighted to discover. His talents are self-taught. Perhaps, innate, like most talented people. Here are some of his works. He works out of Hackettstown, for the pure love of photography. I asked him for prints and he REFUSED to charge me??? Kindness?? Doing something for the sheer love of it?? That's art in and of itself...beautiful! For more of his work go to www.bluecollarart.com. You can also e-mail him directly at plaffey@netzero.com.

Sr. Helen Prejean's Prayer

www.prejean.org
Working on a documentary on forgiveness, my friend
Johnny and I started to reflect on the movie Dead Man Walking. Intrigued, we started doing some research on the famous nun who devoted a large part of her life to one man's salvation. Dude, see the movie if yuu haven't. You'll walk out a different person than who walked in! Here's a prayer she had on her web site. Oh, and our good 'Ole friend Gandhi has been mentioned repeatedly in my search for Sr. Prejean! Coincedence? I don't believe in coincidences. Check out her latest book, Death of Innocents, and let me know what you think. I haven't read it yet! For more about Sr. Prejean and her work go to http://www.prejean.org

Sr. Prejean's Prayer

God of Compassion
You let your rain fall on the just and the unjust.
Expand and deepen our hearts
so that we may love as You love,
even those among us
who have caused the greatest pain by taking life.
For there is in our land a great cry for vengeance
as we fill up death row and kill the killers
in the name of justice, in the name of peace.
Jesus, our brother,
you suffered execution at the hands of the state
but you did not let hatred overcome you
Help us to reach out to victims of violence
so that our enduring love may help them heal.
Holy Spirit of God,
You strengthen us in the struggle for justice,
Help us to work tirelessly
for the abolition of state-sanctioned death
and to renew our society in its very heart
so that violence will be no more.
Amen.

Blue Collar Art

Here's some of Johnny Keane's work. For more of his paintings and writings go to bluecollarart.com

George Harrison

I have a good friend (probably my best friend) John Keane. He's an artist (look him up on his web site bluecollarart.com). who has memorized every important lyric worth noting...he's the same with movies. We were talking about forgiveness....and he started talking about George Harrison. Harrison forgave the guy who stole his wife - forgave his wife - and forgave the man who stabbed him and tried to kill him and his wife (latest). He even wrote a song about his struggle with this man, literally, and his struggle to forgive him in Looking For My Life! Anyhoo...lot's of loving, inspiring lyrics from Harrison. If ever there was a rock-n-roll star prepared to die and go onto eternal life, it was George Harrison! There is something so beautiful about his death. I think it was the fact that he was prepared and ready spiritually. He transformed something so sad and turned into such a beautiful moment. I truly envy him, and he's dead!?

Looking For My Life by George Harrison 2002

Oh Lord, won't you listen in to me now
Oh Love, I got to get me back to you somehow

I never knew that life was loaded
I'd only hung around birds and bees
I never knew that things exploded
I only found it out when I was down upon my knees
Looking for my life, looking for my life

Oh boy, you've not idea what I've been through
Oh Lord, I feel so stuck that I can't get to you

Had no idea that I was heading
Toward a state of emergency
I had no fear where I was treading
I only found it out when I was down upon my knees
Looking for my life
Caught up on me with intensity
Had no idea where I was heading
I only found it out when I was down upon my knees
Looking for my life, looking for my life

Oh boys, you've no idea what I've been through
Oh Lord, I got to get back somehow to you

I never knew that life was loaded
I only hung around birds and bees
I never knew that things exploded
I only found it out when I was down upon my knees
Looking for my life
I never got any GCE's
I never knew that things exploded
I only found it out when I was down upon my knees
Looking for my life, looking for my life
Looking for my life, looking for my life
Looking for my life

Corinthians 13 (Juliana's Faith)

I was blessed with a spiritual sister, Juliana, who at the darkest of times has always led me back to the Lord- has saved me. Her email address has Corinthians 13 in it. So, I looked it up. I have been shown this before - in a cheap way. It bore no great meaning to me. All I knew was that it was a template for readingas at weddings. Everyone and their mom used it! Needless to say, I did not use it for my marriage ceremony.
Coming from Juliana - I knew it had to have great meaning. Her faith is so solid and pure. So I'd like to share it in this little blog scrapbook of meaningful words in my life.

1 Corinthians 13

Love
And now I will show you the most excellent way.
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels,
but have not love, I am only a resounding gong of
a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and
can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I
have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love,
I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and
surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I
gain nothing.

I have watched Juliana go through very trying times. There are people who test her with their anger and rage. They say hurtful things...very personal, hurtful things. And she, unfailingly, never ceases to LOVE...even her enemies. Her life is a living testament to this bible reference!

Pupa (I.T. of I.M.)

Thank you for your post. Your story really stuck with me. Probably because I am always trying to get in step with something or someone. I'm offbeat and out of time... always. Nobody ever reads this...or comments, if they do...so thank you. Especially, for such a meaningful post. God Bless You My Friend.
Jamie

P.S. - Do you think there's any significance in the piece of plastic's color?

Hurricane Season

I have written in a while. There's not too much to say on forgiveness. Except, that it's a process. You never "get there"! It's a minute by minute, day by day thing. You have to work at it by the second. Two steps forward, 1 step back...always. I did receive an article from a good friend on the subject. Leslie Hendricks, who was my massage therapist. in Montclair, NJ (she's amazing). Now she's more of a friend. She sent me an article on forgiveness and the physiological effects on forgiving. I lost the article though. All I can say is that there's many health benefits to letting go and moving on...lower blood pressure, better cholestoral levels, deeper sleep cycles etc.
I landed in the hospital again. This time for a manic state I couldn't get out of. As I get older, I see how truly debilitating depressive disorders can be. It seems like I get sicker and sicker as each year goes by. I'm on 6 medications now, just to keep the mania at bay. It seems crazy to me. The old me would be scared of the new me. I always thought these disorders were bullshit. They were scarey. They were something others had. Some crazy shit that nut jobs had...not me. Now that I'm in therapy, I look at my past and see how truly sick I've always been. My role-models, my standards were set by other sick people. So, I just saw myself as a girl. So did everyone else. Girls go through dramatic shit...right? Wrong. It wasn't normal. And if I can find any peace in all this, it lay in the fact that I don't have to live that way anymore. No more crazy fits of anger and despair. It's not normal. It's not "O.K.". And I don't have to settle for that type of life.
My doctor spewed off a list of all the manic-depressive celebrities. that he knows about. Manics tend to be highly creative people who do their best works in the hypo-manic stage. Van Gogh was manic. My therapist, Dr. W. Leibhauser, saw an exhibit Van Gogh did on wheat fields (something like that). The paintings themselves were huge, wall-size painting. There must've been at least ten of them. And, he did them all within a week's time!? What? He was in a manic state. My doctor also said they were "breathtaking". Why does such beauty always come at the expense of pain. Real pain and beauty go hand-in-hand. Is that beautiful, or sad? I don't know. Maybe, both.
In the book, The Thornbirds, the author opens witha tale about the thornbirds. They spend their entire lives trying to sing the most beautiful of songs. Their entire lives are dedicated to finding this beauty and mastering this art. Ultimately, the impale themselves on thorns, and as the thorn penetrates, they let out the most beautiful songs imagineable. And then, they die, at peace. What expense, what lengths, do I go to in order to find such beauty? How much pain do I have to take so that others may find me beautiful? Perhaps I will only know during my last days here on Earth.

For You: The Bridge (Copperopolis), Grant Lee Buffalo

Crossing the bridge where many lean to see over the rail; to glance the trembling stream. Others stare to the center fearful it may sway. And those who would choose to turn back the other way. But you and me have our own bridge to cross. Let's not make any excuses. I came upon someone's used and yellow paperback. A collection of someone's dreams and their meanings conveyed...seems to dream of a bridge denotes a thousand different things if the planks are secure or the rope is broke or frayed, but you and me have our own bridge to cross....weather-worn, sea-tossed. We've our own bridge to cross. Let's not make any excuses.

Welcome to the Hotel San Diego

Jeremiah, Mike, Joe, and Laura were lifesavers! I came home feeling whole...half a person flying out from Newark, NJ. Jeremiah took me to Horizons School of Evangelism--lots of missionaries work out of this bible-centered school. It was refreshing and inspiring that so many young people have found God and live to serve and share.

Saw Maria's play--dude, she had to take her shirt off and all I could picture were her little old-school Italian parents in the audience!? Maria's performance was flawless...and again, inspiring. Good to be back home with my husband and baby...Newark is the armpit of civilization, but I tell you--there's no place I'd rather fly back to on the end of a long journey...home!

A David Psalm, After He was Confronted by Nathan About the Affair of Bathsheba

51
Generous in love - God, give grace!
Huge in mercy - wipe out my bad record.
Scrub away my guilt,
Soak out my sins in your laundry.
I know how bad I've been;
My sins are staring me down.

You're the only One I've violated, and you've seen
It all, seen the full extent oLanguagef my evil.
You have all the facts before you;
Whatever you decide about me is fair.
I've been out of step with you for a longtime,
In the wrong before I was born.
What you are after is truth from the inside out.
Enter me then, conceive a new, true life.

From The Message//Remix: The Bible in Contemporary Language. p. 964

Peter Khost

These are some examples of Peter Pipe's ART...the funny thing is that his real talent lay in writing (he's pursuing his doctorate in Rhetoric and Composition) - I'd be set if I had the amount of talent he has in his little toe! His paintings and sketchings are as intriguing and GOOD as his writings!

Referrences to Salvadore Dali Make Me Hot

"Referrences To Salvadore Dali Make Me Hot" is coming to a close on Saturday, Nov. 4th in LA. Maria Tomas had a wonderful run in this show and finally has received the applause she deserves for her "brave" performances! For tix, click link...hurry...almost sold out!

Maria Tomas in Referrences to Salvadore Dali Make Me Hot

Different??

Someone pointed out that this blog was "different" - not sure if they meant that in a good way. The only thing I could think of was how sad it is that messages of love and forgiveness are "different"? Why is that? It's sad really. It's sad. Why am I weird for wishing this for everyone? How many problems would be solved if we sought forgiveness? Bush should be seeking forgiveness. How many more tortured parents do we need? Domestic violence becasue people could forgive. Forgiveness is too peripheral a theme nowadays. It needs to be the central force to healing all the wounded; to proactively squashing the violence that comes from the hate of not forgiving other peoples wrongdoings. Yes, I ramble...but I need to put it out there.

Shara's Triplets

Here are Shara's beautiful triplets...They've grown sooo much. God is GOOD!

Sunday Night...Halloween Is Coming

How do you forgive yourself after years of countless addictions. All the dramatics and broken glass. All the cuts and bruises. And I'm probably speaking more for my loved ones than me. They were the victims of this illness as much as myself! There aren't enough dirty fingers and dirty toes...and so it goes. ..onward!

I've been sober for over 6 months now - and Halloween is coming up! I can't remember last halloween - how bad is that? It was Zoe's 1st and I can't even conjure up one, muddy, distorted mental image of her in her costume??? I just saw the costume - it was like the first time ever seeing it....and it's sad...and yeah, halloween is spooky, but for those of us with skeletons in our closets - SPOOKY-takes on a whole different meaning.

It hurts to see these everyday memories gone bad. BUT, I wear them like scars, because really addiction (63 painkillers a day) is a battle that so many fight, and even more...so many sadly lose. I understand - the hard way. Do I forgive myself? YES! I forgive myself by doing the next right thing. For those of us in narcotics Anonymous (not so anonymous for me) that is how we make amends. I will be there for my daughters 2nd Halloween...and God willing everyone after. And I'm taking a picture of that so-horrible-it's-cute chicken costume (think it's a chicken?) and framing it. It's an act of forgiving myself. God Bless!...j

My ideas and thoughts on forgiveness come from this place. Addiction gave birth to what forgiveness meant as Jesus Christ spoke of it. I get "it" now. I have been the scum of the Earth. Hurt so many people because of my illness. I always had this standard though, "But I'll never do HEROIN..." Guess what - I've done Heroin. Every prerequisite, or shall I say "disclaimer" (can't believe I'm that guy doing the finger quotes in the air-did I even use them correctly?)...has been claimed! Got it! Won it! Bought it! Digested that. Snorted that! Oh, I've drunken that!~whatever~ I am in terrible need of forgiveness...and thus, I lend it....always...to all. narcoticsanonymousnj.org

"You can only keep what you have by giving it away" -(NA Quote)

Clocks Turned Back. That is good for this isnomniac!!

It's 4 A.m. EST and I'm typing in the dark. This is the best part of seasons - the sudden change when the weather stands as backdrop to contrast eachothers beauty. It's quite amazing.

I never knew what a blog was--bumped into last night doing research for a book on forgiveness...I need true, real-life examples of people who had the courage to FORGIVE others no mATTER HOW UGLY IT WAS.

If anyone is out there and wants to share and is willing to be photgraphed and published...please let me know.

The schoolhouse shootings in Nickel Mines, PA in the Amish community - my God, how horrible. I was reading about it in People magazine and I received the most beautiful message of peace - FORGIVENESS. The story will change your life! It changed mine.

The Amish forgave Charles WhatsHisName that took their children's lives and , most likely, would have molested or sexually assaulted them. He committed the "unforgivable" and they (Amish) made it a point to console his distraught wife and family after the murders. The asked for her blessing to attend his funeral. And they made it a point to bring the children. They do not want hatred in their hearts: They begin this lesson at a very young age. They even set up a fund to help take care of his family's financial needs for the future??

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?? That's so fricking beautiful! So, So, BEAUTIFUL. The can forgive the man who murdered their children exacution style and penetrated the peaceful bubble of peace they have created for thundreds of years and I "can't" forgive my mother-in-law for telling me to, "fuck off"?

Peace, how we better ourselves, lay in the essence and beauty of forgiveness...of all. Pope John Paul FORGAVE the man who shot in his jail cell a few days after the shooting. It was one of the "hardest things I ever had to do." He said. Live by example my friends

Forgiveness

Gandhi was good people!

The Sin of one, is the sin of all. Mahatman Gandhi said this. Once I understood this fully, I realized the integral part forgiveness plays in my own salvation. We all suck...because we all sin...because that's what we as humans do. if u agree, take a deep breath ...and, put your left arm on your right shoulder...right arm on the left shoulder...

FUCKING SQEEZE ALREADY!!!

This entire process begins by FORGIVING YOURSELF. why you ask (or you don't, log off, your choice...lol)???because God loves your of course!! dude, God is good, ABBA, all daddies... want others to forgive their offspring, their prapaganda...you included. forgive yourself--and apologize...then we can all begin our beautiful journey of healing...