The Illustration Friday prompt for this week is ‘Linked’. That got me thinking…
“In every conceivable manner, the family is the link to our past, the bridge to our future.”
~ Arthur Haley ~
** Warning: This is a self-indulgent, nostalgic pictorial meander. Switch off now if you think
you might gag! **
A visit with Grandma
You must keep the land and air apart and sacred
as a place where one can go
to taste the wind
that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
The voice of my grandmother said to me:
Teach your children what you have been taught.
The earth is our mother.
What befalls the earth
befalls all the sons and daughters of the earth.
My Grandfather – Scotland 1951
My Grandmother - en route somewhere!
My Papa – Cape Town 1950
My Mama – Cape Town 1950
How can you buy the sky?
How can you own the rain and the wind?
My father said to me,
I know the sap that courses through the trees,
as I know the blood that flows through my veins.
We are part of the earth as it is part of us.
The perfumed flowers are our sisters.
The bear, the deer, the great eagle,
these are our brothers.
The rocky crests, the meadows, the ponies,
all belong to the same family.
The voice of my ancestors said to me.
Us - Janie, Tessa, Papa, Mama
You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of our grandfathers.
So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the Earth is rich with the lives of our kin.
Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the Earth is our mother.
Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.
This we know - the Earth does not belong to man - man belongs to the Earth.
This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family.
All things are connected.
First visit to my Mama’s homeland – Queensland, Australia
The Boy in The Landrover – Mbabane Market, Swaziland
My sister, Janie, in Kenya before flying down to SA to be Bridesmaid Par Excellence
More honeymoon memorabilia - ‘it’s not a baby..it’s a bog brush!’
A view of the world - Kano, Nigeria.
Shopping (nothing’s changed!)
Christmas – Cameroon Highlands
Ikotapeni River, Nigeria – holding her own with the boys.
Each ghostly reflection
in the clear waters of the lakes
tells memories in the life of a people.
The water's murmur is the life
of your great-great-grandmother.
The rivers are our brothers.
They quench our thirst.
They carry our canoes
and feed our children.
You must give to the rivers
the kindness you would give any brother.
And with the girls – Watamu, Kenya
Just before a bean - Garden Route, Eastern Cape.
And along came the Bean!
Caribbean Bean – USVI
Thoughtful Bean – Mafolie, St Thomas USVI
Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.
Next Pictorial Episode of my tribe’s evolution?
In a couple of days….
**PS – I’d LOVE to read about YOUR tribe. Please let me know if you do decide to do a blog post like this one!**
Poetry excerpts: Attributed to Chief Seattle, but there is debate as to whether it was written in 1971 by Ted Perry, the screenwriter for the 1972 fim ‘Home’