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National Interfaith Conference on Global Poverty
April 20-21, 2010
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February 10, 2010
From the HAT files:
The Bowl of Roses is so beautiful; it couldn't possibly begin with something so raw like flaring anger between two fighting boys. How does that connect with roses? Perhaps Rilke tacked on the first two stanzas after finishing the rest of the poem. No. Impossible. It exists/begins with the truest, most primal expressions of human nature, of self-containing which extends outward "to change the world outside." But does that make sense? How can we begin with two boys "baring their teeth" and progress towards a bowl of rose "unforgettable and filled"? It is full of the "utmost of being and bending" so is that the connection between the two images? I don't know... perhaps it is not just the sense of being but the branching out into space "where adjacent things diminish."
I am curious what "it" in the last line stands for... It lies "carefree in these open roses." Does this refer to the "self-containment" which actually means reaching out to touch everything outside in the world and having that influence reach back into a "hand full of inwardness"? Is this a Buddhist notion of the karmic circle in which all things exist within all things, and everything touches each other with the potential to become each other, or at least a part of each other? The roses are aware of themselves. They are full of their self-knowledge. In achieving that, they become aware of everything else, because everything else is a part of them -- it is all connected.
These are strange interpretations of and ruminations on Rilke, but somehow, I feel they gesture toward the definition of poetry, and the role of a poet. There is something universal about attaining awareness of individuality. It's contradictory to say we create unity by identifying what it means or how it means to be alone, in pain, insecure. We all share that. Perhaps that's why Orpheus and his pain resonate so strongly with us all. It is universal or far-reaching because it is so acute and so self-containing. We experience it all...? That's why poetry, for some, resonates so intensely...
- Excerpted from Reflections over Rilke's selected poems, pulled from HAT files
I am curious what "it" in the last line stands for... It lies "carefree in these open roses." Does this refer to the "self-containment" which actually means reaching out to touch everything outside in the world and having that influence reach back into a "hand full of inwardness"? Is this a Buddhist notion of the karmic circle in which all things exist within all things, and everything touches each other with the potential to become each other, or at least a part of each other? The roses are aware of themselves. They are full of their self-knowledge. In achieving that, they become aware of everything else, because everything else is a part of them -- it is all connected.
These are strange interpretations of and ruminations on Rilke, but somehow, I feel they gesture toward the definition of poetry, and the role of a poet. There is something universal about attaining awareness of individuality. It's contradictory to say we create unity by identifying what it means or how it means to be alone, in pain, insecure. We all share that. Perhaps that's why Orpheus and his pain resonate so strongly with us all. It is universal or far-reaching because it is so acute and so self-containing. We experience it all...? That's why poetry, for some, resonates so intensely...
- Excerpted from Reflections over Rilke's selected poems, pulled from HAT files
February 7, 2010
Haiti: a brief brief look
For a good resource on data about Haiti, see The World Factbook from the CIA website. Click here. The native Taino Amerindians - who inhabited the island of Hispaniola when it was discovered by COLUMBUS in 1492 - were virtually annihilated by Spanish settlers within 25 years. In the early 17th century, the French established a presence on Hispaniola. In 1697, Spain ceded to the French the western third of the island, which later became Haiti. The French colony, based on forestry and sugar-related industries, became one of the wealthiest in the Caribbean but only through the heavy importation of African slaves and considerable environmental degradation. In the late 18th century, Haiti's nearly half million slaves revolted under Toussaint L'OUVERTURE. After a prolonged struggle, Haiti became the first black republic to declare independence in 1804. The poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, Haiti has been plagued by political violence for most of its history. After an armed rebellion led to the forced resignation and exile of President Jean-Bertrand ARISTIDE in February 2004, an interim government took office to organize new elections under the auspices of the United Nations Stabilization Mission in Haiti (MINUSTAH). Continued violence and technical delays prompted repeated postponements, but Haiti finally did inaugurate a democratically elected president and parliament in May of 2006. A massive magnitude 7.0 earthquake struck Haiti in January 2010 with an epicenter about 15 km southwest of the capital, Port-au-Prince. An estimated 2 million people live within the zone of heavy to moderate structural damage. The earthquake is assessed as the worst in this region over the last 200 years.
Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere with 80% of the population living under the poverty line and 54% in abject poverty. Two-thirds of all Haitians depend on the agricultural sector, mainly small-scale subsistence farming, and remain vulnerable to damage from frequent natural disasters, exacerbated by the country's widespread deforestation. While the economy has recovered in recent years, registering positive growth since 2005, four tropical storms in 2008 severely damaged the transportation infrastructure and agricultural sector. US economic engagement under the Haitian Hemispheric Opportunity through Partnership Encouragement (HOPE) Act, passed in December 2006, has boosted apparel exports and investment by providing tariff-free access to the US. A second version of the legislation, passed in October 2008 and dubbed HOPE II, has further improved the export environment for the apparel sector by extending preferences to 2018; the apparel sector accounts for two-thirds of Haitian exports and nearly one-tenth of GDP. Remittances are the primary source of foreign exchange, equaling nearly a quarter of GDP and more than twice the earnings from exports. Haiti suffers from a lack of investment because of insecurity and limited infrastructure, and a severe trade deficit. In 2005, Haiti paid its arrears to the World Bank, paving the way for reengagement with the Bank. Haiti received debt forgiveness for about $525 million of its debt through the Highly-Indebted Poor Country (HIPC) initiative in 2009. The government relies on formal international economic assistance for fiscal sustainability.
February 4, 2010
From the HAT files:
I love Rilke's rendition of Eurydice. Why? Because of the depths from which Rilke paints this young woman. Because of the dimensions we can grapple onto this single figure following Orpheus. There is more to her than meets the eye. Eurydice is a wandering soul recently lost, rewon, and lost again. She is one who is loved, adored, and desired. Much stronger. Desired. What is significant is that Rilke states that Eurydice "was that man's property," only "echoed often in the poet's songs," and only an "island" or a "scent" to be possessed, worn. In life, she was an echo of Orpheus' great gift of song. Though she was loved and was the cause of great lament, in marriage, she was "this blond wife." Is it too much of a social commentary to suggest that she might be viewed as an objectified woman?
After dying, she is defined differently, separately, from Orpheus. Apart from his power, she walked beside a god; not just alongside Orpheus, or perhaps behind him, even. In death, she "was within herself," uncertain, but "untouchable." In a way, Eurydice is full of greatness, far more than her living self. There is no other way to say that her death "filled her with abundance." She is gentle, and without impatience; she is a woman of definition and free. As much as it is, she is a heavenly gift, given before being fully earned. In the end, Orpheus loses her because he does not earn her at all.
Poor Orpheus. A man of mute impatience. Uncertain and anxious in his mission/journey of retrieval. Such pain and longing, such sweetness in anticipation -- it fills him so that his senses are split in two. How can you portray it in any other way? Orpheus is defined/painted in the image of the dog earnestly running ahead to prepare the way for his beloved's treading steps. At the same time, he is engulfed in the intense "delay" of the moments of waiting and listening for her approach. All of this, however, is left with the image of the lone figure, whose face we can't even imagine -- so blanked, so empty and unrecognizable -- because it is a figure darkened by the light of what was to come. That is his vulnerability. He is alone, and must step into the severe brightness of a world that will bare his story, his soul. What was approaching had been an opening that represented hope because it was the medium through which he will once again embrace Eurydice. Now, as Rilke shows it, the "shining exit" only reveals what Orpheus does not have. It honestly (and is so cruel because of its honesty) lays out what Orpheus becomes: a darkened figure continually looking backwards into the darkness representing Eurydice's silent retreat. What is so painful in Rilke's version is the way (as we can see through Hermes's meditation) Eurydice is so oblivious to Orpheus, but is so full of her death. That she utters "Who?" so silently and confusedly makes Orpheus' image so much more anguished, lonely, vulnerable.
Speaking of Orpheus... What does he become now that he is changed forever by her second death? What more from this poet whose lament created an entire world? What else can he invent, imagine? If from her first death, he creates this lament-heaven, what is left to impart another, double-meaning to this double-death? How can Orpheus function as a poet? What roles does he play? What is the role, in general, of the poet? To create this fictitious world with "disfigured stars"? It can't even be perfect! Why can't this imagined world be perfect? In a reality that is imagined, poets try to create another world -- but we create one that's not more perfect, it just has to be similar to it. Why, then, would poets do that? What is the function of the poet? What does Orpheus do if he can't imagine another world in which Eurydice exists, breathes, and enraptures? Why recreate pain? Perhaps beauty exists within it. Meaning exists within it. Depth and growth exists alongside it. Appreciation does not exist without pain. Value and importance has no meaning without pain. Orpheus wouldn't remember the value and importance of Eurydice, the vulnerability of love, or the meaning of loss if he couldn't remember the pain. In a way, without recreating this lament-world, he wouldn't remember at all.
- Excerpted from Reflections in HAT's poetry seminary
After dying, she is defined differently, separately, from Orpheus. Apart from his power, she walked beside a god; not just alongside Orpheus, or perhaps behind him, even. In death, she "was within herself," uncertain, but "untouchable." In a way, Eurydice is full of greatness, far more than her living self. There is no other way to say that her death "filled her with abundance." She is gentle, and without impatience; she is a woman of definition and free. As much as it is, she is a heavenly gift, given before being fully earned. In the end, Orpheus loses her because he does not earn her at all.
Poor Orpheus. A man of mute impatience. Uncertain and anxious in his mission/journey of retrieval. Such pain and longing, such sweetness in anticipation -- it fills him so that his senses are split in two. How can you portray it in any other way? Orpheus is defined/painted in the image of the dog earnestly running ahead to prepare the way for his beloved's treading steps. At the same time, he is engulfed in the intense "delay" of the moments of waiting and listening for her approach. All of this, however, is left with the image of the lone figure, whose face we can't even imagine -- so blanked, so empty and unrecognizable -- because it is a figure darkened by the light of what was to come. That is his vulnerability. He is alone, and must step into the severe brightness of a world that will bare his story, his soul. What was approaching had been an opening that represented hope because it was the medium through which he will once again embrace Eurydice. Now, as Rilke shows it, the "shining exit" only reveals what Orpheus does not have. It honestly (and is so cruel because of its honesty) lays out what Orpheus becomes: a darkened figure continually looking backwards into the darkness representing Eurydice's silent retreat. What is so painful in Rilke's version is the way (as we can see through Hermes's meditation) Eurydice is so oblivious to Orpheus, but is so full of her death. That she utters "Who?" so silently and confusedly makes Orpheus' image so much more anguished, lonely, vulnerable.
Speaking of Orpheus... What does he become now that he is changed forever by her second death? What more from this poet whose lament created an entire world? What else can he invent, imagine? If from her first death, he creates this lament-heaven, what is left to impart another, double-meaning to this double-death? How can Orpheus function as a poet? What roles does he play? What is the role, in general, of the poet? To create this fictitious world with "disfigured stars"? It can't even be perfect! Why can't this imagined world be perfect? In a reality that is imagined, poets try to create another world -- but we create one that's not more perfect, it just has to be similar to it. Why, then, would poets do that? What is the function of the poet? What does Orpheus do if he can't imagine another world in which Eurydice exists, breathes, and enraptures? Why recreate pain? Perhaps beauty exists within it. Meaning exists within it. Depth and growth exists alongside it. Appreciation does not exist without pain. Value and importance has no meaning without pain. Orpheus wouldn't remember the value and importance of Eurydice, the vulnerability of love, or the meaning of loss if he couldn't remember the pain. In a way, without recreating this lament-world, he wouldn't remember at all.
- Excerpted from Reflections in HAT's poetry seminary
Earth Hour 2010
"On Earth Hour hundreds of millions of people, organizations, corporations and governments around the world will come together to make a bold statement about their concern for climate change by doing something quite simple—turning off their lights for one hour. In the U.S. where we are already feeling the impacts of climate change, Earth Hour sends a clear message that Americans care about this issue and want to turn the lights out on dirty air, dangerous dependency on foreign oil and costly climate change impacts, and make the switch to cleaner air, a strong economic future and a more secure nation." Join me in sending a message to the world that the time for action on climate change is now. Sign up for Earth Hour at www.EarthHour.org.
February 3, 2010
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