The synchronicity of revolutions . . .

It's Freya's day and the mailbox opened on a cloudy, rainy, cool break in the heat here in Okieland . . .

Together we open the door to the unknown and experience the miracle of being.

Today is Bastille Day in France, celebrating the day in in 1789 that an angry French mob stormed the Bastille prison in Paris, launching the French Revolution.

Continuing in the traditions of revolution, “Woody" Guthrie was born on this date, in 1912 Okemah, Oklahoma, about 85 miles Southwest of where I sit at this writing – 123 years after the storming of the Bastille. Among Woody's revolutionary contributions was “This Land is Your Land” which he wrote as a protest alternative to Irving Berlin's “God Bless America” because he was tired of hearing Kate Smith sing it on the radio. Another was putting a sticker on his street-found guitar that read “This machine kills Fascists.” Don't miss visiting the Woody Guthrie Center in Tulsa (next door to the Bob Dylan Center).

The revolution continued with the Broadway, radio and film contributions by Arthur Laurents who was born today in 1917 Brooklyn.

Revolutions seem to have a synchronicity and long reach to them – the Bastille, Woody Guthrie, The Beatles. Another tied to Paris is the birth of playwright and novelist Irving Stone, born today in 1903 San Francisco, California. On a visit to Paris he stumbled upon an exhibition of the work of Vincent van Gogh, another revolutionary, which inspired him to write his first biographical novel Lust for Life.

This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing.
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

– Woody Guthrie

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Deconstructing our happiness . . .

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The Rubicon near Tintern