The Second American Renaissance
2025-12-14 14:00 - 16:00 (America/Los_Angeles)
THE SECOND AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
(1955-2025)

an entertainment by Johnny Stallings
Sunday, December 14th, 2 pm
Library at Taborspace, 5441 SE Belmont

this Open Road event is free

peace, love, happiness & understanding 1/1/26
2026-01-01 - 2026-02-04
photo by Abe Green

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

January 1, 2026

the Dalai Lama has a busy day today
he has to remind everybody
to be kind to each other

F. O. Matthiessen coined the phrase “American Renaissance” in his 1941 book with that title. He was referring to the period between 1850 and 1855, which saw the publication of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Representative Men, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Henry David Thoreau’s Walden and Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself.

I’ve been thinking about the period between 1955 and the present as a “Second American Renaissance.” By an amazing coincidence this period coincides nicely with my own life. I was born in 1951. I’m using the term “renaissance” loosely to mean an exciting time of transformation and new ideas.

Though Mathiessen’s American Renaissance was short-lived, like the Italian Renaissance, it sowed seeds that continued to sprout everywhere. The Italian Renaissance lasted approximately 200 years, from 1400 to 1600. This Second American Renaissance, now about 70 years old, is still going strong.

When I think of the Italian Renaissance, the first people who come to mind are artists: Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Raphael, Botticelli. But there was more to it than painting. There were the Borgias and Medicis, Machiavelli, Petrarch, Galileo and Columbus. In the same way, the Second American Renaissance contains all kinds of big ideas and important changes.

Here are some of the Big Things that have happened:

Civil Rights Movement, Environmental Movement, Peace Movement, Women’s Liberation, Gay Liberation, Humanistic Psychology and the Human Potential Movement, Eastern Influences: Meditation, Mindfulness, Yoga & Zen, Rock & Roll, Trip to the Moon, Whole Earth Catalog, (return to) Organic Agriculture, vegan & vegetarian diets, advances in medical technology, computers, cell phones—and a Knowledge Explosion.

And something I’m going to call the “evolution of consciousness.” I am going to put forward the crazy idea that there is even an evolution of love and of peace and of happiness and of wisdom. Sounds New-Agey, doesn’t it? And the reason is simple: this is a New Age. There was a certain feeling that many of us had between 1968 and 1972 that a Big Change was underway. We were right.

During a “renaissance,” not everything is groovy. Michelangelo and Da Vinci were rare birds. Not everyone who was living in what we now call “Italy” between 1400 and 1600 were actively remaking the world. The popes and political leaders were horrible people! There was lots of senseless warfare going on—not to mention plagues! So it wasn’t a particularly happy time. But, as in Periclean Athens, things were happening in the human imagination that changed the potential of what it means to be a human being.

That’s what I mean by the phrase “evolution of consciousness.” In one way, consciousness, or awareness never changes. Like Life (with a capital “L”) it just is what it is. But human potential—for understanding and for loving—can change and does change, both for individuals and for cultures. As Heraclitus and the Buddhists say: everything is always changing.

Each of our lives is full of possibilities! Let’s make the most of them in the New Year!

—Johnny Stallings
*

Driven to Exclaim

How can I be so happy!
There’s so much bad news!
Inside, my heart is crying! But
outside, the crows are shouting!
Don’t they heed bad news—ruffians!
Hard times are coming! Hard times
are here! Everywhere I look, pain!
Why are leaders such angry children!
I’m such a child I want to stay up
late loving the ruined world!
Even the crows are shouting
strange joy! All I can do is crow!

—Kim Stafford, Winter Solstice 2025
*

The Robin and You

Extravagant in praise he bows to her.
Tells her she is a falcon-ness, a phoenix
and in his quiet moments a swan.

She knows she is a plain woods robin
and what matters is her song.
Early before the worms, she practices her art.

Her flash of red breast a surprise
only to those who have no feel for the natural world.
Wrapped inside themselves, amidst their suffering

she sings for them.
Her beak is the vessel, her mate the morning dew.
Her only audience, the wise and patient yew.

—Elizabeth Domike
*

There is still magic in the world, whether it be natural or man-made.

Across the Columbia River from Hood River is White Salmon, Washington. Every year in early December members of the White Salmon Chamber of Commerce climb in their cherry picker vehicles and head out to Dock Grade, a half-mile, one- way road that travels from Highway 14 up the hill to White Salmon. They are laden with close to a thousand Christmas ornaments, huge ornamental balls and stars to hang in the trees overhanging the road. The ornaments can be 8”-10” in diameter, and they are suspended 10’ to 30’ up in the bare-limbed trees. You drive up the road and are surrounded by a thousand floating orbs, spheres, globes and stars. It feels like you’re floating through space in a spaceship, with celestial elements surrounding you, enveloping you. Sunlight shines down and lights each ornament from above. It’s a feeling of magic. The kind of feeling you normally lose as you grow up and become “too old” for magic.

But there’s the natural magic—the magic of nature. A terrible wildfire (one of many!) swept through Catherine Creek, a wildflower lover’s mecca, and left the entire area blackened, crushed, destroyed, last summer. A friend has been working on restoration there and she told me to head out and take a look—“Just go!” she said. So after the drive up Dock Grade I drove the ten miles out to Catherine Creek and started tromping around: charred, blackened tree trunks and limbs, and shrubs nothing more than crusty twigs. Heartbreaking. What am I doing out here??!!? But! I look down and I see thousands of tiny blades of green grasses, and atop many of them, the soft purple blossoms of the grass widows: the first wildflowers of spring! In bloom! In December!. They hardly ever appear before late February or early March. People make the trek out to Catherine Creek just to see the grass widows in March, knowing that blossoms mean spring! But here they are, nodding up at me, saying, Yep, the fires of summer gave us a jumpstart. Thought you’d like that. Like???!!! I love it! The magic of nature. The magic of life.

And this was all in just one day!

—Jude Russell
*

“Know that you are a child of the universe.”
—Yogi tea bag wisdom

Musings on a Winter sunny day…

When Winter comes in cold and bright, after days of rain that have turned Summer’s brown grasses back to green, I think, “Oh no, Spring is coming too soon.” I love the long winter dark, which is my excuse for reading and being cozy under quilts even in the daytime, and by the wood stove in the evenings.

Here it is New Year’s Eve and Spring is in the air, coming up all around us in Autumn’s left over leaves—crocuses, scilla, hyacinth, a first pink camellia in bloom, daphne budding out.

Thoreau wrote of this wonder in Walden, about the ponds in Winter, the first crack of the ice signifying Spring has begun. Frozen ponds are rare in the Northwest, and snow in the mountains is a month late, but we have subtle signs. Even in my body that wants to hibernate, I also want to go out looking for sprouts and buds, returning birds and bunnies.

Recently I read about Thoreau’s extraordinary Kalendar. He had a daily habit of walking and noting what was happening through the season in his Nature neighborhood. His Journal is the record of these practices, and the Kalendar is their culminating gesture: the final major endeavor of his life.

The charts of general phenomena derived from Thoreau’s long-held sense that ‘our thoughts & sentiments answer to the revolution of the seasons,’ and his equally long-standing desire to more fully experience and comprehend the complex network of relations—what we would now call the ecosystem—of which he knew himself to be a part. Though Thoreau had for many years been keeping lists and charts of individual observations of the natural world—bird migration times, the flowering and leafing out of trees—the Kalendar was a discovery: a crystallization of his long-developing ideas about time, the natural world, and the nature of perception.”

Reading through this makes me aware of how extraordinary it is to be alive, to be here at all at such a blip in the planet’s life. I also see this wonder in my puppy’s exploration of Nature. Being a Border Collie, she is dumbfounded by the squirrels that run up trees, and by birds and even airplanes in the sky—because these are moving things she cannot herd. She at least has chickens and rabbits and a giant Golden Retriever who visits on weekends. Then there is my granddaughter’s wonder at everything new—mushrooms coming out of the ground in leaves that have turned red!!

So, thank goodness for the seasons that return on their own timeline with no prompting from us. Hopefully we all fall in love with the magic of life and finally save as much as we can for the children and creatures coming along.

Here is a poem from my friend Barbara, a gardener and a writer:

Winter Solstice

The long nights recede
As the light slowly returns
And my heart lifts up
Stars in the night sky
Yield to an early sunrise,
Pink and orange sky
And evenings stretch out;
The light lingers longer now,
Warming the new buds
I come more alive:
The light feeds my hungry soul,
Starving for beauty.
More revealed each hour,
Leaves, buds, flowers greet the day
As the sun warms them
Welcome light’s return
Our gift for surviving the
Dark, cold winter nights.

—Barbara Blossom

Speaking of watching the wild, here is a funny aside from Gina Wilson, who sent this:

Gayle Highpine writes in her book on making friends with wild birds:

“To survive among us, they (birds) have to watch what we are doing, and we are odd and different from the other ground creatures they see. Cows and squirrels and cats and deer are understandable, and predictable. If you see enough cows, you have a good idea what to expect from any cow you see. But humans are different. They do different things—sometimes humans do things that nobody’s ever seen. Sometimes a human may change its clothing overnight and yet it is the same human.”

Gina wrote: Never thought about how we change our “skin”—often numerous times a day!

—Katie Radditz

ZEN: History & Essence 1/17/26
2026-01-17 14:00 - 16:00
ZEN:History & Essence

Johnny Stallings will give an overview of the history of Zen and host a conversation about the meaning of Zen on Saturday, January 17th, 2026, at 2 pm (PST).
Here’s the Zoom link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/88465906598

An Sceal (The Story) with Will Hornyak
2026-01-22 - 2026-02-01
The Open Road Recommends:

An Sceal (The Story) Will Hornyak joins Portland’s brilliant Corrib Theatre folks to celebrate St. Brigit and Imbolc with dance, drama, singing & storytelling.
Thursday, January 22, 1 pm
Sunday, January 25, 8:30 pm
Thursday, January 29, 1 pm
Sunday, February 1, 8:30 pm
T.C. O’Leary’s Pub, 2926 NE Alberta, in Portland
Tickets & info: https://www.corribtheatre.org/tickets

peace, love, happiness & understanding 2/5/26
2026-02-05 - 2026-03-04
Bodhidharma

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

February 5, 2026

The Infinite a sudden Guest
Has been assumed to be—
But how can that stupendous come
Which never went away?

—Emily Dickinson
*

Beginning My Studies

Beginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much,
The mere fact consciousness, these forms, the power of motion,
The least insect or animal, the senses, eyesight, love,
The first step I say awed me and pleas’d me so much,
I have hardly gone and hardly wish’d to go any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time to sing it in ecstatic songs.

—Walt Whitman
*

Yes

It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That’s why we wake
and look out—no guarantees
in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.

—William Stafford
*

“…I believe there is a limit to the number of times a man can profitably inform his neighbor, or be informed by him, that the inexpressible cannot be expressed.”

—Owen Barfield, from the essay “Imagination and Inspiration” in The Rediscovery of Meaning and Other Essays, p. 180
*

A man who encountered the Buddha for the first time was impressed by his radiance.
He asked: “Are you a man or a god?”
Buddha replied: “I’m awake.”
*

some thoughts on Zen

According to legend, one day many people had gathered to hear the Buddha speak. Instead of speaking, he held up a flower. One man, Kasyapa, smiled, and realized enlightenment. Zen Buddhism traces it’s origin to this “Flower Sermon.”

That just about sums it up.

A thousand years later, Bodhidharma traveled from India to China, and sat for nine years facing the wall of a cave. Buddhism had been in China for many centuries by this time, but this emphasis on sitting in silence was what launched the Zen tradition of Buddhism. Bodhidharma is known as the “First Zen Patriarch.”

The Third Zen Patriarch, Seng Ts’an, produced the first Zen text—Hsin Hsin Ming. As an account of what the Zen way of experiencing the world, it is unsurpassed. Here are 28 of the 73 couplets:

the great way (Tao) is not difficult
it has no preferences

make the smallest distinction
and heaven and earth are far apart

conflict between liking and not liking
is the disease of the mind

if its deep meaning is not understood
we strive in vain to quiet the mind

it is perfect like vast space
nothing lacking, nothing left over

don’t get entangled in outer things
or abide in inner emptiness

when the mind is still
all views disappear

trying to quiet the mind
is just more activity

the more talking and thinking
the farther you go from what is

look within for just a moment
and go beyond appearance and emptiness

don’t seek truth
just let go of your views

when the mind is still
the ten thousand things do not offend

without an object of thought, there can be no thinking subject
without a thinker, there are no things

the great way is vast
to live in accord with it is neither easy nor hard

following our nature, we are in harmony with the way
wandering freely, without a care

fixed ideas can’t encompass what is true
they sink into darkness, become unhealthy

if you want to take the one vehicle
don’t reject mental or sensory experience

to accept everything
is to be enlightened

seeking the mind with the mind
isn’t that a big mistake?

profit and loss, right and wrong
get rid of them once and for all

understanding the mystery of one suchness
difficulties are forgotten

no descriptions or analogies are possible
of this state where relations have come to an end

empty, clear, your light shines
without mental effort

thought can’t reach this
beyond knowing, imagining, feeling

in the realm of things as they are
there is no self or other

no here, no there
the whole world right before our eyes

the tiny is as large as the vast
when boundaries are gone

beyond words
no past, no future, no now

Lao Tzu’s advice in the Tao Te Ching to do nothing (wu wei), and the Zen practice of sitting in silence had a big influence on Chinese and Japanese culture, and, more recently, on the lives of many people in the rest of the world.

The idea of sitting in silence seems to many people like a big waste of time. The practice goes back to before the time of the Buddha in India. The Japanese word “zen” is a translation of the Sanskrit word dhyāna, which means “meditation,” or sitting silently. Sometimes, in the quiet, thought and language fall away.

I came upon this idea of blissful silence in Paramahansa Yogananda’s book Autobiography of a Yogi when I was 19 years old. He called it samādhi. I wanted to get that!

The Zen texts which are dearest to my heart, and to which I’ve returned again and again are: the Hsin Hsin Ming of Seng Ts’an, Cold Mountain: 100 Poems of Han Shan, translated by Burton Watson, Unborn: The Life and Teachings of Zen Master Bankei, 1622-1693, translated by Norman Waddell, “Song of Myself” by Walt Whitman, Zen in English Literature and Oriental Classics by R.H. Blyth, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind by Shunryu Suzuki & the writings of Thich Nhat Hanh.

Han Shan lived in China sometime during the Tang Dynasty (618-907). He spent the last part of his life living the simple life of a hermit in the mountains, writing poems like these:

Among a thousand clouds and ten thousand streams,
Here lives an idle man,
In the daytime wandering over green mountains,
At night coming home to sleep by the cliff.
Swiftly the springs and autumns pass,
But my mind is at peace, free from dust or delusion.
How pleasant, to know I need nothing to lean on,
To be as still as the waters of the autumn river!

The clear water sparkles like crystal,
You can see through it easily, right to the bottom.
Mind free from every thought,
Nothing in the myriad realms can move it.
Since it can not be wantonly roused,
Forever and forever it will stay unchanged.
When you have learned to know in this way,
You will know there is no inside or out!

Bankei gave talks to large groups of people. He said we all have unborn Buddha-mind. He said: “Don’t exchange your unborn Buddha-mind for the mind of a hungry ghost!”

Many of the things Walt Whitman says in “Song of Myself” express what to me is the essence of Zen. Here are a few examples:

This minute that comes to me over the past decillions,
There is no better than it or now.

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.

All truths wait in all things.

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars…
And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.

…to glance with an eye, or show a bean in its pod confounds the learning of all times…

Zen in English Literature and Oriental Classics is one of my favorite books. I read it slowly. When I get to the end, I start at the beginning again. Blyth explores the Zen way of seeing and being in the world. We come to see beauty and perfection in ordinary things.

For many people of my generation, Shunryu Suzuki served as a contemporary exemplar of the Zen way. He taught us how to sit.

Thich Nhat Hanh is the most congenial Zen teacher to me. I love his friendliness, his gentleness, his sweetness, his joy. He seems to radiate deep peace and love. His book Your True Home has been for me the most useful guide for how to live my human life on Earth. I’ve given away dozens of copies to my friends.

peace & love
Johnny
*

If you want peace love happiness and understanding NOW, RIGHT NOW, all I can say, my friends, is watch (google, facebook, instagram, etc.) the 18 Buddhist monks as they walk for peace. They are walking 2300 (!) miles from their monastery in Fort Worth, Texas to Washington, D.C. They cover approximately 20 miles per day, and have walked between 1900-2000 miles from October 26th when they began.

Their leader is 44 yr old Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara, and he began this journey in an attempt to foster and promote peace in his fellow man, in a troubled world. When they began there were a few curious onlookers—a very few. Most just curious to see these burnt-orange robed men walking, mostly barefoot, (but booted and bundled when heavy snow began to fall), along the roadways, first through Texas, then Louisiana, Alabama, Georgia… Soon, however, there were hundreds, and then thousands, tens of thousands followers, the monks now with multiple police escorts to manage the crowds. Men, women, children all lining the roads, bowing their heads offering prayers and heartfelt thank yous, shedding tears, tears of relief, and peace and joy to witness this moment of beauty, this moment of peace in a fractured world. This respite from pain.

The Venerable Bhikkhu says he has been overwhelmed at the response; he never expected this tremendous show of peace, love, happiness and understanding. Now millions are watching, witnessing their progress towards Washington, DC.

The peace which passeth all understanding. This is it.

—Jude Russell

Humanism 2/14/26
2026-02-14 14:00 - 16:00
HUMANISM

Johnny Stallings will host a dialogue on Humanism on Saturday, February 14th, 2026, at 2 pm (PST).
Here’s the Zoom link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82751789337

peace, love, happiness & understanding 3/5/26
2026-03-05 - 2026-04-01
Primavera by Sandro Botticelli

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

March 5, 2026

some thoughts on Humanism

All deities reside in the human breast….
God only Acts & Is, in existing beings or Men.

—William Blake, from “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell”
*

Numberless are the world’s wonders, but none more wonderful than man.

Sophocles, from “Antigone”
*

In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less…

–Walt Whitman, from “Song of Myself”
*

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god, the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals…

–William Shakespeare, Hamlet speaking in “Hamlet,” Act Two, scene two
*

Inspired by Sarah Bakewell’s book Humanly Possible: Seven Hundred Years of Humanist Freethinking, Inquiry and Hope, I hosted a Zoom conversation about Humanism on February 14th. I enjoyed reading and thinking about Humanism in preparation for the Zoom event.

Humanism can mean a lot of different things. I think of it as related to the word “humane.” A humanistic attitude is one that considers human beings to be basically good. It tends to be optimistic about human potential, and about education, progress, reason and science. Humanists tend to be against war and against capital punishment. In one way, “humanism” must be as old as humanity.

As a historical movement, Humanism is associated with the Renaissance, and an interest that some writers and artists took in classical Greece and Rome. The poet Petrarch (1304-1374) is often cited as the father of Humanism. For a thousand years in Europe, it was dangerous to espouse “heretical” views. From the beginning until now, humanists have promoted freedom of thought, freedom of speech and freedom of religion. We tend to take these things for granted, but in some countries atheism or homosexuality are punishable by death.

For many many people in the Middle Ages (and many people today) our life on Earth is a kind of prison house or purgatory, which serves only as a misery which we must endure in preparation for a glorious eternal afterlife in Heaven. Humanists are pretty unanimous in their belief that our human life on Earth is to be cherished—and some go as far as to believe that when we die we’re dead.

Modern Humanism includes Feminism and Human Rights. Perhaps the most important modern document which could not have been imagined without centuries of humanist influence is the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Here’s a link:

https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-9-2-21/

The Multnomah County Library is a temple of Humanism. Here’s a poem I wrote recently:

Ode to Humanists

Thank you
brave humanists
for making it possible
for us to read
whatever
we want to read
to think
our own thoughts
to imagine
to dream
to say
whatever
we feel like saying
to write and publish
our ideas and imaginings
to go
where we want
and do
whatever
we feel like doing.

If not for you
we would have
only one book
and the world
would be
flat.

Although some modern humanists are generally hostile to religion, since Humanism is fundamentally open to the free exchange of ideas and beliefs, that includes the right of people to think things and believe things that you don’t. A “Declaration of Modern Humanism” from a General Assembly in Glasgow, United Kingdom in 2022, agreed that “…we are committed to the unfettered expression and exchange of ideas, and seek to cooperate with people of different beliefs…” They also said, “We recognize that we are part of nature and accept our responsibility for the impact we have on the rest of the natural world.”

I’ll conclude these thoughts on Humanism with something that gives the essence of many humanist values. It’s from the Nineteenth Century agnostic who gave the eulogy at Walt Whitman’s grave—Robert G. Ingersoll. The full essay is called “The Liberty of Man, Woman and Child.” Below is an abridged version of “The Liberty of the Child” along with an abridged version of his conclusion to the whole essay:

THE LIBERTY OF CHILDREN

If women have been slaves, what shall I say of children?….

I tell you the children have the same rights that we have, and we ought to treat them as though they were human beings. They should be reared with love, with kindness, with tenderness, and not with brutality. That is my idea of children….

When your child commits a wrong, take it in your arms; let it feel your heart beat against its heart; let the child know that you really and truly and sincerely love it….

Do you know that I have seen some people who acted as though they thought that when the Savior said “Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven,” he had a raw-hide under his mantle, and made that remark simply to get the children within striking distance?

Give them a little liberty and love, and you can not drive them out of your house. They will want to stay there. Make home pleasant. Let them play any game they wish….

Let children have some daylight at home if you want to keep them there, and do not commence at the cradle and shout “Don’t!” “Don’t!” “Stop!” That is nearly all that is said to a child from the cradle until he is twenty-one years old, and when he comes of age other people begin saying “Don’t!” And the church says “Don’t!” and the party he belongs to says “Don’t!”

I despise that way of going through this world. Let us have liberty—just a little. Call me infidel, call me atheist, call me what you will, I intend so to treat my children, that they can come to my grave and truthfully say: “He who sleeps here never gave us a moment of pain. From his lips, now dust, never came to us an unkind word.”

People justify all kinds of tyranny toward children upon the ground that they are totally depraved. At the bottom of ages of cruelty lies this infamous doctrine of total depravity. Religion contemplates a child as a living crime—heir to an infinite curse—doomed to eternal fire….

Sabbaths used to be prisons. Every Sunday was a Bastille. Every Christian was a kind of turnkey, and every child was a prisoner,—a convict. In that dungeon, a smile was a crime.

It was thought wrong for a child to laugh upon this holy day. Think of that!

A little child would go out into the garden, and there would be a tree laden with blossoms, and the little fellow would lean against it, and there would be a bird on one of the boughs, singing and swinging, and thinking about four little speckled eggs, warmed by the breast of its mate,—singing and swinging, and the music in happy waves rippling out of its tiny throat, and the flowers blossoming, the air filled with perfume and the great white clouds floating in the sky, and the little boy would lean up against that tree and think about hell and the worm that never dies.

The laugh of a child will make the holiest day-more sacred still….

Do not treat your children like orthodox posts to be set in a row. Treat them like trees that need light and sun and air. Be fair and honest with them; give them a chance. Recollect that their rights are equal to yours. Do not have it in your mind that you must govern them; that they must obey. Throw away forever the idea of master and slave.

In old times they used to make the children go to bed when they were not sleepy, and get up when they were sleepy. I say let them go to bed when they are sleepy, and get up when they are not sleepy….

I believe in allowing the children to think for themselves. I believe in the democracy of the family. If in this world there is anything splendid, it is a home where all are equals.

You will remember that only a few years ago parents would tell their children to “let their victuals stop their mouths.” They used to eat as though it were a religious ceremony—a very solemn thing. Life should not be treated as a solemn matter. I like to see the children at table, and hear each one telling of the wonderful things he has seen and heard. I like to hear the clatter of knives and forks and spoons mingling with their happy voices. I had rather hear it than any opera that was ever put upon the boards. Let the children have liberty. Be honest and fair with them; be just; be tender, and they will make you rich in love and joy….

CONCLUSION.

I have given you my honest thought. Surely investigation is better than unthinking faith. Surely reason is a better guide than fear. This world should be controlled by the living, not by the dead. About this world little is known,—about another world, nothing.

Our fathers were intellectual serfs, and their fathers were slaves. The makers of our creeds were ignorant and brutal. Every dogma that we have, has upon it the mark of whip, the rust of chain, and the ashes of fagot.

Our fathers reasoned with instruments of torture. They believed in the logic of fire and sword. They hated reason. They despised thought. They abhorred liberty.

Superstition is the child of slavery. Free thought will give us truth. When all have the right to think and to express their thoughts, every brain will give to all the best it has. The world will then be filled with intellectual wealth….

As long as woman regards the Bible as the charter of her rights, she will be the slave of man. The Bible was not written by a woman. Within its lids there is nothing but humiliation and shame for her. She is regarded as the property of man. She is made to ask forgiveness for becoming a mother. She is as much below her husband, as her husband is below Christ. She is not allowed to speak. The gospel is too pure to be spoken by her polluted lips. Woman should learn in silence.

In the Bible will be found no description of a civilized home. The free mother surrounded by free and loving children, adored by a free man, her husband, was unknown to the inspired writers of the Bible. They did not believe in the democracy of home—in the republicanism of the fireside.

These inspired gentlemen knew nothing of the rights of children. They were the advocates of brute force—the disciples of the lash. They knew nothing of human rights. Their doctrines have brutalized the homes of millions, and filled the eyes of infancy with tears.

Let us free ourselves from the tyranny of a book, from the slavery of dead ignorance, from the aristocracy of the air.

There has never been upon the earth a generation of free men and women. It is not yet time to write a creed. Wait until the chains are broken—until dungeons are not regarded as temples. Wait until solemnity is not mistaken for wisdom—until mental cowardice ceases to be known as reverence. Wait until the living are considered the equals of the dead—until the cradle takes precedence of the coffin. Wait until what we know can be spoken without regard to what others may believe. Wait until teachers take the place of preachers—until followers become investigators. Wait until the world is free before you write a creed.

In this creed there will be but one word—Liberty.

Oh Liberty, float not forever in the far horizon—remain not forever in the dream of the enthusiast, the philanthropist and poet, but come and make thy home among the children of men!

I know not what discoveries, what inventions, what thoughts may leap from the brain of the world. I know not what garments of glory may be woven by the years to come. I cannot dream of the victories to be won upon the fields of thought; but I do know, that coming from the infinite sea of the future, there will never touch this “bank and shoal of time” a richer gift, a rarer blessing than liberty for man, for woman, and for child.

—Johnny Stallings
*

Speaking of miracles…well, I find the word ‘miracle’ too loaded with religiosity, so I will dub those events as ‘moments of awe,’ both outward(ly) and inward(ly).

Last night the brilliant full moon lit up Mt. Hood like it was the middle of the day. I could see Tie-In Rock, Langille Glacier, Eliot Glacier, Illumination Rock (so aptly named), Barrett Spur—every feature on the northeast side of the mountain, where we are, lit up as bright as day. At ten o’clock at night! Right there, the moon, and the mountain, a moment of awe. And then, then! from 4-5 a.m., I watched the lunar eclipse and watched and felt the shadow of our earth passing between the sun and the moon. Those who got to witness the solar eclipse in 2021 spoke often of having a spiritual experience during the moments of totality. This lunar eclipse brought forth the same kind of feeling in my being. I feel—graced—to witness moments like these.

I mentioned moments of awe both outwardly and inwardly—the ‘inwardly’ part is…the body, the human body. It is…awesome. I tutored a high school student who had cerebral palsy. I helped him study anatomy and physiology because he wanted to be a personal trainer. (Yes.) We studied every system of the human body, the nervous system, skeletal, circulatory, endocrine, digestive, respiratory, etc. You name it, we studied it, and learned it. I was blown away, studying alongside Daniel. Just for one example, the functioning of the liver is so elegant! And complex, that it defies belief! I was constantly shaking my head and laughing at the awesomeness of each part and each function, down to the cellular level. And the whole body is like that!

But you know what? The moon, the mountain, stars, the human body, trees, rocks, grass, light, dark, raindrops, birdsong, bird poop…it’s all damned miracle. An awesome miracle. There, I said it.

—Jude Russell

Hamlet: a reading 3/21/26
2026-03-21 14:00 - 16:00
photo by Corky Miller

Hamlet
a reading

Johnny Stallings reads an abridged version of Hamlet.
Saturday, March 21 at 2 pm
Artspace Room at Taborspace, 5441 SE Belmont

this Open Road event is free

Jay Bean Performing Live at Hood River Brewing Company 3/21/26
2026-03-21 19:00 - 21:00
Jay Bean Performing Live!

Saturday, March 21st, 7-9 pm
Hood River Brewing Company
101 4th Street, Hood River

peace, love, happiness & understanding 4/2/26
2026-04-02 - 2026-05-06
Rocky & Johnny under the palm trees

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

April 2, 2026

Time is money.

—Benjamin Franklin
*

…time is not money. Time has much more value than money.

—Thich Nhat Hanh
*

I’m excited that Rocky Hutchinson is getting out of prison on April 15th, after 17 years. He’s even more excited than I am! See for yourself:

Rocky’s final letters from prison

March 8, 2026
5:15 a.m.
Dear Johnny & Nancy

Well, it’s a start to another week & as I lay in my bunk last night I felt a memory come over me. It was no normal memory, but one of those that you can feel physically. It was like a wind, a change of season wind that I could feel blow over my soul. It reminded me of times to come & times that have passed. Time changes, but sometimes memories & emotions & a subtle wisp of Nature all mix together, bringing on a feeling so good, when we were so happy, that we can even remember how the wind felt and we can feel the atmosphere in our minds stirring our souls. It’s not any one memory, it’s many I think, or maybe a junction where our heart, mind & soul, our joy & our love all come together with the elements of the world around us giving us a gift.

I often of late have been getting those types of feelings, like something in me is waking up and the feeling is of joy and wonder. The thoughts & feelings are of such beauty that they’re hard to describe. The other morning I was meditating & somehow I was standing on a rocky riverbank & in the wind blew thousands of dandelion wishes. I think my soul is feeling the beauty that is to come soon. It is reaching out and lacing itself to it, my aura is reconnecting to the world.

I understand the gift that I have been able to rebuild within myself & I plan to cherish it & share it with all that I’m close to. It has been difficult…almost damaging to me to be looked upon like I’m weak or crazy when I’ve tried to talk about the deeper beauty of life with others recently.

At first, I felt that if I explained what I meant a little better, others would understand. So I used the example of how a fruit tree and the soil have a relationship, a love, so to speak. The tree cultivates the soil & provides life for all the creatures with which it is involved. The tree’s blood grows leaves & fruit & nuts for us, so we can then live & love.

All things connect in a circle of life, love & joy. Like this one relationship, all relationships are connected in one way, shape or form. It is beautiful to behold how all things work together. In my life before, I never really took the time to be in love—for no other reason than its rightness in the world.

So, getting to be around like-minded people here in the near future is really going to be something wonderful. Everything is going to work out so good. I’m sure that as time passes and I just stay kind & calm, diligent & positive, do the right things that are being asked of me, life will be good. I just need to keep things simple and transparent.

Getting to sit and have good conversations with you two & everyone else—Jude, Dick, Josh, Carla, Kristen—and all the rest of the gang is really going to increase the quality of all of our lives. Mine more than you all know! When I think about that and how soon that will happen I feel my chest swell up and my eyes start to get blurry! All the tears I’ve been holding back are going to finally fall…that will be so cleansing, tears of so many mixed emotions. I should save them in a little vial! Use them to water a bunch of seeds for flowers for everyone as a gift of love & devotion.

In the last few days I’ve lost all desire to participate in anything here but my release classes, writing resumes, letters, and in my journal—staying out of the way, in my cell, and relaxing. This is fine with me & since I’m 30 days to home I’m not required to do anything but finish school!

I’ve been thinking about when I find a place to rent and all of that starts coming together. The first two plants I want to get are: #1) a canna lily and #2) a monstera. Both get large & both are beautiful. An Irish ivy will be nice, too. I plan on having a very green apartment. I’m also planning on eating so healthy…fresh veggies! Different kinds of breads & fruits that have so many amazing tastes. No more crazy processed foods, or being forced to eat things I don’t want to eat, because I have to to live! That will be Amazing, and even more so…to eat with friends! Yes!

My day switched gears & I’m now sitting in class and vibe is good today in here. This is my last book and it was a big one. I finished the written part, so the book is done—now it’s just group work! My seat is right under the skylight and there are geese walking on the skylight!!! Very funny.

Sitting here thinking about what you, Johnny, and I were talking about concerning treatment! I am over that part of my life. I simply have zero want or urges to participate in anything that that life has to offer. I’m so far from it that it never really crosses my mind.

As I sit here & am going through my treatment support people, it’s always the same 6 people: Johnny, Nancy, Shawna, Autumn, Dick, Howard. Seems to be a pattern in my life, and with a few added loved ones like Josh & Jude, these are my loved ones. My dearest friends. The people who took this long 216 month journey with me!

March 10th

Well, I moved cells again—I hope for the last time. Once again it’s with someone I’ve known for years. He is a really mellow guy & a super good artist. Right about the time I release he will be going into the dog program. He will do very well at that.

The new cell I’m in is the coolest one so far! It has an art collage drawn all over in it, complete with a cityscape of Portland & Mt. Hood, along with many other things. It’s cool to have artwork on the walls in the house.

I don’t know what it was about today & our call, but it triggered something in me that put my mind into a whole state of home & this is all already in the past, really in the past. I’ve really been thinking about what it’s going to feel like to walk out this door! I might RUN! What I am going to do is pay close attention to my emotions. I want to feel & remember walking out that door & leaving this place behind. Later in life I want to be able to process at different times these emotions in many ways throughout my life.

March 19, 2026
Dear Johnny

It’s a beautiful morning here & I’m sure it is at your place too. It’s because the world we live in is amazing in every way, all of it.

One of the counselors or officers asked me last night if I was going to go back to a life of crime. The answer came so fast & so natural that it made me…I don’t know—feel normal! It was a big NO! I’m not even of that mind any longer, nor of that world. The thought of it put fear in me, a fear that most people have never felt themselves. A fear of losing “Everything in life” is a fear only those who have really gone through that truly know what horrors come from it. So, no. My life is truly a second chance gift and full of wonder & joy & love! I won’t even be caught J-walking!

I’ve not been writing very much for a little while now. But recently it has come back like a wave, the tide of it is rolling in & soothing me. It takes the moments of stress & restlessness away from me, preoccupying my mind, so that I’m not thinking only about releasing. It’s always been such a good friend to me, like a salve for the soul, bringing a much needed peace to me & to others. My writing is a gift and has gotten me through a lot in life. Having people to write to—like you, Johnny, and others—is a gift.

It is the end of the night now. My little bit of nightly work is finished & I’m settling into my bunk, which is a cozy little place. When my friend went to the Hole on 3-2-26 I got his old pillows! That’s how it goes in here, it’s a normal thing. He had very nice pillows! Now I have them & for my last 25 days I get to have the best pillows in the whole joint!!! One of them is a Sealy Posturepedic—never had one of them before now.

3-23-2026

Well, the weekend went by very fast, which is a good thing. I spent a lot of time with letters & journalling and trying to be…in my cell alone, away from all the needless drama—no distractions, and focusing on home.

I’m so excited about getting to spend time with you & everyone else. I’ve been noticing these…well, mental time jumps. I’ll be home so soon and I catch myself planning out my week-to-week life…then it hits me: *Home*! Where I can walk down the street & see all the cherry trees that are in bloom, smell a million flowers & draw them if I want to. This will happen soon…only a short time after you’ve read this letter, we will be drinking coffee together.

Healthy food has been on my mind, too—fresh food, clean, good food, well-prepared food. I’m so happy to get to share this with you and Nancy and everyone else.

I have gone through a few changes in the last few days…. Pressure from others is heavier than ever before. I’m trying to stay away from everyone and everything.

3-24-26

I’m sitting in class under the skylight. The rain is beating down on the skylight. I’m hoping that the rain does not take all the cherry blossoms from the face of Spring until I can see them this year. There’s so many other beautiful things to see & soon I will love feeling overwhelmed by all of it. I’m really looking forward to taking walks, running, and being in & of nature, and being with the ones I love. This is how I want to be with the opening of my heart in this new world—the beauty pouring into my blooming, opened heart.

I truly want to let all of the wonders of it all soak into me. Truly allow the wind that’s full of the smell of flowers & trees seep into my mind, feel the hugs of my loved ones imprint upon my soul. To feel the touch of another human…will be…strange & wonderful & a little scary! So destructive is the lack of human touch, simple contact, holding hands, a hug, a gentle hand upon the shoulder—these are so needed in life to feel human. How wonderfully overwhelming it all is going to be & amazing—the gift of it from those who truly love me. To have emotions like this fulfilled will be a once-in-a-lifetime gift. We all have the best love for each other…because it’s very real & unconditional. I’m so lucky…we are all so blessed to have this. What an amazing life we have to share with each other!

I’ve been thinking a lot about food! LOL Healthy, clean good food, homemade food, soups & salads, a large variety of veggies, breads, fruits…fish! Healthy foods…I’ll have to be careful at first, so I don’t get sick. I’ve heard that real food will make me sick at first. We will see!

Sitting in a room full of men trying to find a way out, out of addictions of all sorts.
Unpacking all the broken pieces & knowing you can not pick them up at all anymore.
Knowing that to find the golden paths in life we have to leave it behind & walk out the door.
I did not succeed in doing this alone with my life—my friends & family helped me to survive.
So many times sitting in a small empty room, putting broken pieces together with no glue.
Pieces of sadness, shame, sorrow & remorse, of a broken life that I tried to fix from guilt, haunted by ghosts.
Having let it all go & gladly starting all things in life anew is easy knowing now what to do.

….It feels good to have the relationships I have in my life with all of you. They are deep & strong & real & powerful—full of love and goodness, joy and truth. I’m proud of the person I’ve become & know that I’m lucky to have the life I have. Most don’t come back from a level of damage like this. I hope others see it & know that they can overcome the pitfalls of life, too!

Love you & see you later for Coffee too!

—Rocky Hutchinson
*

Elizabeth Domike shared this poem:

Nurture

From a documentary on marsupials I learn
that a pillowcase makes a fine
substitute pouch for an orphaned kangaroo.

I am drawn to such dramas of animal rescue.
They are warm in the throat. I suffer, the critic proclaims,
from an overabundance of maternal genes.

Bring me your fallen fledgling, your bummer lamb,

lead the abused, the starvelings, into my barn.
Advise the hunted deer to leap into my corn.

And had there been a wild child—
filthy and fierce as a ferret, he is called
in one nineteenth-century account—

a wild child to love, it is safe to assume,
given my fireside inked with paw prints,
there would have been room.

Think of the language we two, same and not-same,
might have constructed from sign,
scratch, grimace, grunt, vowel:

Laughter our first noun, and our long verb, howl.

—Maxine Kumin
*

SHEEP

So why would I write about sheep? What do sheep have to do with Peace, Love, Happiness and Understanding? Well, as it turns out—-everything!

We have one hundred and fifty sheep about half a mile down the road from us. I either ride my bike or drive past them every day. Almost always I stop. “Hi sheep!” I call out. Without interrupting their grass munching, they lift their heads and eye me with a mild gaze. They’re used to me by now. I’ve been greeting them this way for as long as they’ve been in the pasture, five or six years? I’ve seen them at every stage: big and white and fluffy, ragged and molting, shorn and pink-skinned.

When I see them my heart is filled with peace. And love. And sheer happiness. And deep understanding that this—-being in the moment with peace, love and happiness is what matters in my life.

—Jude Russell

For Amusement Purposes Only 4/11/26
2026-04-11 14:00 - 16:00
For Amusement Purposes Only

Johnny Stallings attempts to entertain.
Just for fun!
There will be snacks.

Saturday, April 11, at 2 p.m.
Artspace Room at Taborspace, 5441 SE Belmont

this Open Road Event is free

A Midsummer Night's Dream in Prison: screenings on April 16th & 17th
2026-04-16 - 2026-04-17
This month, there will be two screenings of Bushra Azzouz’s film A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Prison, in Portland. If you haven’t seen the film, this will be a good opportunity. If you have seen it, maybe you’d like to watch it again. Or tell your friends about it.
Both screenings will be followed by Q & A with actors.
Both are free and open to the public.

Portland State University
Women’s Resource Center & Queer Resource Center
April 16th, 2026 3:30 p.m.
Smith Memorial Union Building
1825 SW Broadway
4th Floor, Room 439

S.M.I.L.E. STATION
Sellwood-Moreland Improvement League Neighborhood Association
April 17th, 2026 5:30 p.m.
8210 SE 13th Ave

peace, love, happiness & understanding 5 9 26
2026-05-09 - 2026-06-03
Julia, Rocky & Jeffrey at Portland Japanese Garden

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

May 9, 2026

THE ROCKY ROAD

First some thoughts from Jude about this new chapter in Rocky’s life. Then, some of Rocky’s impressions of what these last few weeks have been like:

Through the Eyes of Rocky

I have been thinking daily of our dear Rocky Hutchinson. I have been seeing The World through the Eyes of Rocky, and want to appreciate the world as if seeing it for the first time in seventeen years. What would it be like to stand under a flowering pink cherry tree, a pink dogwood tree, a maple tree shaking its leaves open from its small packets? To walk in a forest of dark green firs, to see the sunlight slicing through the quiet, towering trunks. To see the moon, not just a glimpse but waxing and waning from night to night. To sit quietly, happily at a meal—a good meal—-with beloved friends who have become like family. To walk and walk and walk, with no one to stop you, no one to make you stop. To visit with dogs, and cats, and chipmunks, and squirrels and robins and worms and ants.

To savor it all. To love life, the new life Rocky has. A life of peace, love, happiness, and understanding.

—Jude Russell
*

It was an early Spring morning in April. The end of Winter could be felt hanging on the face of Spring. That first day was like a wave of love that came from a warm Spring unending. I was surrounded by all the people that had come into my life to form a beautiful family. As the days went by, each and every one, all the stress and fear of the unknown quickly faded. In its place the tapestry of my life began to unfold, each and every fold came with acceptance, understanding and ease. All of my misconceptions soon faded.

At the same time, the beauty of the world, of nature, of people—the touch of it all so real, so potent, so big, was there. The world and all that it has to offer, all the things I meditated on in my prison cell, were there to never take for granted again. The movement of the city, the smells of food, the passing look of a woman, the ability to give and accept hugs from anyone—with no one there to dehumanize, to ridicule—just the love is there.

The ocean of seasons that we live in our lives changes with the tides, the vast amount of time that I swam to get to this hour is for me the sweetest Spring of my life. So much so that I can give it as a gift to others around me. Such a powerful emotion to feel when others around me can see it, feel it. I can feel it like electricity pulsing within me, the power of love and positivity.

I am grateful to have the room I now call home. It is so close to where I was removed from the world 17.5 years ago. Fate saw fit to place me back where I came from. I am able to see a reflection of my life—a reflection most will never see. The homeless and the addicts are still there. I used to be one of them, and it breaks my heart to see them. It puts a drive in me to never take things in my life for granted, to love the life I have to the fullest. For those who have lived a life full of trips down the wrong roads, there comes a time to choose. If you give in, and dive into the endless void of addiction and abuse, it is a weak and powerless act. Then, there is the other choice—a stance, a life decision that nothing can break through. I have had enough of the past, of the never-ending life of addiction. Getting to have that reflection in my face every day is a blessing. It hurts, too, to see them—not knowing that a change is there for them, and it is as simple as one choice. I have made that definite choice!

I have been out of prison less than a month and am still experiencing the wonders of it all. As I re-acclimatize to all that is life, I notice that all of the good qualities that I instilled within my heart, mind, and soul are strange and growing day by day. It matters the things we do within the walls. Those who tell you otherwise, (and they do and will), are wrong—very very wrong. I imagined the world full of new wonder and amazements and that is just what it is to me. Every walk I take is an adventure, every conversation with friends is deep and meaningful, every song I hear is more pleasant. The elegance of it all is right there in everything. That’s how I choose to live and be in the world. I don’t foresee that changing anytime soon, nor do I want that to change.

This moment in my life, this transition is important to me and I am sure it will be important to others too. Everything is a perspective for all of us. Coming from such confinement, it is easy for me to cut through and avoid snags that can appear in my daily life. For me, it’s all about my point of view on acceptance—there’s no reason to go against the grain. There is only enough time to do so much in a day in life. The ability to make my own choices to do what I know is right is a root of joy, not only for me but for everyone. That is a right of being human, being alive, being a speck of dust in the universe. According to Einstein, particles can change there alignments—and I am living proof. It is all possible. None of us are stuck, but I have had a tremendous amount of help in my life. The help is there for everyone. If anyone is truly trying to change, that will happen. The help will show up. That’s how it works—hands helping hands, love and life, friends and support.

April 29, 2026

Went to the Japanese garden today with some new friends that I met, Jeffrey & Julia. Johnny had brought us together long ago over the phone and through letters from over the years, so I am sure they know my heart. All I can hope for is that all can now see that in me as we become closer in person. As we traversed the paths of peacefulness and the unbelievable beauty the universe gifts to us all, I could feel the wonder of kindness and love that was reciprocating between us and all other living things in our spheres of life. The beauty of people and of myself is now a gift that can be shared between each of us. Being out only 14 days from the walls of confinement and having the chance to partake of such beauty is…something I want to take in and tread upon lightly. I want to leave the lightest of footprints upon it as a delicate gift that I know the meaning of. In my life I have not had the chance to have people whose purpose was to give and share the beauty of life. It feels so strange to just get to be, and to not be guarded. There is nothing I have to protect myself from.

As we took in the beauty offered to us I could not help but slip away in my mind—so much of me wanted to become a permanent part of it all. Knowing that my time here is fleeting is the key to truly seeing it, the beauty. The winding vines of the Japanese maples, the crawling moss, the babbling water whispering secrets that only are understood by my soul. I know that what beauty I understand in my waking mind is just a drop in the pool of endless wonder.

It is an unspoken language between all of us—“indescribable wonder” I think is the best description any of us can utter. We just know it for what it is—BEAUTY & WONDER—to share it with all who can understand it for its truth is a gift all in itself. It’s a simple understanding: we are all parts of it and of each other—all are one.

April 30, 2026
(Day 15)
How amazing it feels to wake up in this new world, one filled with new friends, trees, rivers, options. Part of me feels very lost and bewildered, things are so new. I know this world and I remember what role I had in it before. That is not who I am now. I am new. Things move different—not fast, but in waves. Blessed is the path I am on, a hard-won gift born out of many battles that were fought on every front a person has.

As I walk out of my room every day I remember where I am and what I am thankful for, the joy I have to tread so lightly and take for granted as little as possible. To simply smile to anyone, to a friend, and receive one back is amazing. To talk to others that I have never met or seen is quite a gift too.

Day 15. April 30, 2026 (continued)

We had group today and the wealth of knowledge and love in the group is truly a shining gift. If only that group of people were guiding the course of mankind…

I find myself becoming endeared to each of them as time goes on, and I want to sit with each of them and talk of the human condition and of ages past—to see through their eyes. To me it is like placing bricks on the golden paths we all walk. That is what has been missing in my life for many many years. I find myself not drinking from the fountain, but drowning in it.

I am wondering if there are other groups like that that I can go to as well. It seems to me that I am loving the ability to just talk to people. That is very different to what I used to be like. Before I went into prison, I detested people. That was due to so many social walls and bridges of ruin. All of that seems to have been worked out. As I see the world now, many people are simply beautiful and I can see that in them—a kindness, a glow, a sort of purity that is of the unseen, registering with the mind’s eye and the heart.

I took a walk down to the waterfront tonight and wanted to give an offering. A sort of personal sacrifice of the last of the old me. There are things we all as humans have as traits within us. I have set most of them to rest, but, like everyone, I still battle. What a gift is death when it comes!—a hard reset of oneself to start anew, fresh and clean. If only we could keep some of ourselves! In a way, we do. But all that will come in life’s natural cycle.

It is only 16 days since my release and I am seeing happy couples in their union, and am longing for that in my life. I have been alone long enough. In time I am certain that will change. My soul is just hungry to love and find companionship. Human hands were meant to hold each other, that is why they fit together like they do. It is a sacred bond to have another being to care for and to love. The ground has the sky. The ocean has the shore. The tree has the soil. All things have their duality.

My first room, the Medford Hotel

It is a humble place, one not to forget. Here I take my first steps into a world, and it is now the future. Difficult to explain. At times I find myself feeling like the time traveler from H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine. As I stepped out of the machine I was in I see the changes the world has undergone. Just as he did, I, as he, ask questions and people look at me a little strangely. I know that they know something is a little off with me. It is okay because I am kind and friendly, personable. As I sit here in my room I am thankful. Thankful to have just what I need to live and to be me. This is a kindness, a gift of love.

In the corner stands a large wardrobe out of times past, like me. The room is old and that is fine, it is cozy. Small, humble, like me too. I am lucky to have it. Out on the street is the drunk, the junky, the hooker, the hard, sad, lost and broken, the me before I was awoken. A man duct-taping his life together. He needs to run a thousand miles an hour on the streets. He has not yet awoke from his addictions, neither has she. Her beauty screaming out as it is sacrificed by its owner. It hangs from her face. I see what she could be…if only. I know their drive, their hopeless, endless ride in nothing in the end.

In my room I have a bed, a blanket, a pillow, rest. I have so much now. Just beyond the 10 inches of wall…always a wall of separation in my life. Sitting in this room, knowing I never want to forget—here, where I left. Now I am starting, I am going…but never forgetting. I came from here, I was all of them. And now I am me. I made it back and will never go back to the walls that kept me in for so long. And in this room, my first room, I must keep walking the path away from and into the next room that has not yet come. This room will never be forgotten. Nothing will ever be forgotten.

May 8, 2026

Sitting at the Lotus Bean, which has become me favorite morning coffee shop, knowing that it’s a whole new day full of many positive forward possibilities. Josh and I have a show to go to tonight—Puscifer! That is a good show for my first big show since I have been out. I love the Golden Path that I am on. There are a few things that I need to fix about myself, and reel myself back in from the temptations the world is placing in my path.

The day is a beautiful one—gray with the promise of Spring sun. 7:30 a.m. is a wonderful time in the morning to be out in the city. The sidewalks are somewhat clean and the streets seem to be content from the night before—peaceful, and a vibe that feels calm. It will be a good Friday night—my first one where I have plans to do something amazing. Sitting here listening to some Led Zeppelin, knowing that things so far have turned out alright. These little things point the way of my life. It’s a strange thing to have changed so much and to be back where I used—but as a different person. I am thankful for my crazy life.

—Rocky Hutchinson

Book Signing!: My Jedi Memoir by James Kahn
2026-05-16 18:30 - 20:30
Open Road Recommends!:

J is doing a reading from My Jedi Memoir, and signing it along with some of his early sci-fi works at:

Parallel Worlds Bookshop

2639 NE Alberta St., in Portland

Saturday, May 16th, 6:30-9:30 pm

Come one, come all, and tell your friends!

Elevate Him Coffee Day Fundraiser 5/19/26
2026-05-19

Song of Myself 5/31/26
2026-05-31 14:00 - 16:00
painting of Walt Whitman by Rick Bartow

Song of Myself

To celebrate Walt Whitman’s 207th birthday, Rocky Hutchinson & Johnny Stallings will read from Walt’s masterpiece.
There will be a birthday cake!

Sunday, May 31, at 2 p.m.
Artspace Room at Taborspace, 5441 SE Belmont

this Open Road event is free

FREE ART IN THE PARK! 6/2/26-7/30/26
2026-06-02 - 2026-07-30
FREE ART IN THE PARK (ORR). LARRY YES is the ebullient host for artists of all descriptions. Everyone is an artist!!!
Tuesdays & Thursdays in June and July, from 11:30 to 1:30
Pioneer Square, in Portland

peace, love, happiness & understanding 6/4/26
2026-06-03 - 2026-07-01
Larry Yes & his Radical Positivity installation

THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

The day will come when we all agree
that we should live in harmony
and we will know and we will see
how we’re all connected. We’re all family.
All the people, the plants, the animals, the birds, the seas.

—from the song “Live in Harmony” on the album “Everyone on This Planet Is Family” by Larry Yes

June 4, 2026

Ken Margolis gave me a copy of the Spring 2026 issue of “Emergency Horse,” which contained an article by David Turnbull on the Republic of Užupis. Užupis is a “micro-nation” or “artistic republic,” occupying about two and-a-half square miles in the center of Vilnius, which I’m sure you know is the capital of Lithuania. Ken and I both fully endorse the Constitution of Užupis which, when translated into English, reads:

Everyone has the right to live by the River Vilnelė, and the River Vilnelė has the right to flow by everyone.
Everyone has the right to hot water, heating in winter and a tiled roof.
Everyone has the right to die, but this is not an obligation.
Everyone has the right to make mistakes.
Everyone has the right to be unique.
Everyone has the right to love.
Everyone has the right not to be loved, but not necessarily.
Everyone has the right to be undistinguished and unknown.
Everyone has the right to be idle.
Everyone has the right to love and take care of the cat.
Everyone has the right to look after the dog until one of them dies.
A dog has the right to be a dog.
A cat is not obliged to love its owner, but must help in time of need.
Sometimes everyone has the right to be unaware of their duties.
Everyone has the right to be in doubt, but this is not an obligation.
Everyone has the right to be happy.
Everyone has the right to be unhappy.
Everyone has the right to be silent.
Everyone has the right to have faith.
No one has the right to violence.
Everyone has the right to appreciate their unimportance.
No one has the right to have a design on eternity.
Everyone has the right to understand.
Everyone has the right to understand nothing.
Everyone has the right to be of any nationality.
Everyone has the right to celebrate or not celebrate their birthday.
Everyone shall remember their name.
Everyone may share what they possess.
No one can share what they do not possess.
Everyone has the right to have brothers, sisters and parents.
Everyone may be independent.
Everyone is responsible for their freedom.
Everyone has the right to cry.
Everyone has the right to be misunderstood.
No one has the right to make another person guilty.
Everyone has the right to be individual.
Everyone has the right to have no rights.
Everyone has the right to not to be afraid.
Do not defeat
Do not fight back
Do not surrender

*

The Constitution of Užupis reminded me of Eduardo Galeano’s “The Right to Dream.” Eduardo Galeano is author of the astonishing, beautiful, heartbreaking and inspiring 3- volume history of Latin America, Memory of Fire.

The Right to Dream

In 1948 and again in 1976, the United Nations proclaimed long lists of human rights, but the immense majority of humanity enjoys only the rights to see, hear and remain silent. Suppose we start by exercising the never-proclaimed right to dream? Suppose we rave a bit? Let’s set our sights beyond the abominations of today to divine another possible world:

the air shall be cleansed of all poisons except those born of human fears and human passions;
in the streets, cars shall be run over by dogs;
people shall not be driven by cars, or programmed by computers, or bought by supermarkets, or watched by televisions;
the TV set shall no longer be the most important member of the family and shall be treated like an iron or a washing machine;
people shall work for a living instead of living for work;
written into law shall be the crime of stupidity, committed by those who live to have or to win, instead of living just to live like the bird that sings without knowing it and the child who plays unaware that he or she is playing;
in no country shall young men who refuse to go to war go to jail, rather only those who want to make war;
economists shall not measure living standards by consumption levels or the quality of life by the quantity of things;
cooks shall not believe that lobsters love to be boiled alive;
historians shall not believe that countries love to be invaded;
politicians shall not believe that the poor love to eat promises;
earnestness shall no longer be a virtue, and no-one shall be taken seriously who can’t make fun of himself;
death and money shall lose their magical powers, and neither demise nor fortune shall make a virtuous gentleman of a rat;
no-one shall be considered a hero or a fool for doing what he believes is right instead of what serves him best;
the world shall wage war not on the poor but rather on poverty, and the arms industry shall have no alternative but to declare bankruptcy;
food shall not be a commodity nor shall communications be a business, because food and communication are human rights;
no-one shall die of hunger, because no-one shall die of overeating;
street children shall not be treated like garbage, because there shall be no street children;
rich kids shall not be treated like gold, because there shall be no rich kids;
education shall not be the privilege of those who can pay;
the police shall not be the curse of those who cannot pay;
justice and liberty, Siamese twins condemned to live apart, shall meet again and be reunited, back to back;
a woman, a black woman, shall be president of Brazil, and another black woman shall be president of the United States; an Indian woman shall govern Guatemala and another Peru;
in Argentina, the crazy women of the Plaza de Mayo shall be held up as examples of mental health because they refused to forget in a time of obligatory amnesia;
the Church, holy mother, shall correct the typos on the tablet of Moses and the Sixth Commandment shall dictate the celebration of the body;
the Church shall also proclaim another commandment, the one God forgot: You shall love nature, to which you belong;
clothed with forests shall be the deserts of the world and of the soul;
the despairing shall be paired and the lost shall be found, for they are the ones who despaired and lost their way from so much lonely seeking;
we shall be compatriots and contemporaries for all who have a yearning for justice and beauty, no matter where they were born or where they lived, because the borders of geography and time shall cease to exist;
perfection shall remain the boring privilege of the gods, while in our bungling, messy world every night shall be lived as if it were the last and every day as if it were the first.

—Eduardo Galeano (born: September 3, 1940; died: April 13, 2015)
*

Eduardo Galeano’s “The Right to Dream” reminded me of Larry Yes’ song “Live in Harmony” and I thought I might include the lyrics in this issue, but then I wondered if I had already done that in a previous issue. I had. I found it by going to the Open Road website, clicking on EVENTS, and typing in “Live in Harmony.” In the 2025 June issue—exactly one year ago—you can find the lyrics to two of Larry’s songs, “Live in Harmony” and “Free: Everyone on This Planet is Family.” In that same issue, there are more inspiring words from Nick Swift, Dustin Jamison, Rocky Hutchinson, Ken Margolis and Jude Russell. (Since that time, both Rocky and Dustin have gotten out of prison. Hooray!!!) Here’s a link to that issue:

https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-6-5-25/

The whimsy in these lists—“A dog has a right to be a dog” and “in the streets, cars shall be run over by dogs”—reminds me of the whimsy of Borges’ Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge, an “ancient Chinese encyclopedia,” where animals are divided into the following categories:

a) those that belong to the Emperor
b) embalmed ones
c) those that are trained
d) suckling pigs
e) sirens (or mermaids)
f) fabulous ones
g) stray dogs
h) those included in the present classification
i) those that tremble as if they were mad
j) innumerable ones
k) those drawn with a very fine camelhair brush
l) others
m) those that have just broken a flower vase
n) those that from a long way off look like flies

—Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986)
*

…which, by a mysterious alchemy in my brain, reminds me of…

Ode to things

I have a crazy,
crazy love of things.
I like pliers,
and scissors.
I love
cups,
rings,
and bowls –
not to speak, or course,
of hats.
I love
all things,
not just
the grandest,
also
the
infinite-
ly
small –
thimbles,
spurs,
plates,
and flower vases.

Oh yes,
the planet
is sublime!
It’s full of pipes
weaving
hand-held
through tobacco smoke,
and keys
and salt shakers –
everything,
I mean,
that is made
by the hand of man, every little thing:
shapely shoes,
and fabric,
and each new
bloodless birth
of gold,
eyeglasses
carpenter’s nails,
brushes,
clocks, compasses,
coins, and the so-soft
softness of chairs.

Mankind has
built
oh so many
perfect
things!
Built them of wool
and of wood,
of glass and
of rope:
remarkable
tables,
ships, and stairways.

I love
all
things,
not because they are
passionate
or sweet-smelling
but because,
I don’t know,
because
this ocean is yours,
and mine;
these buttons
and wheels
and little
forgotten
treasures,
fans upon
whose feathers
love has scattered
its blossoms,
glasses, knives and
scissors –
all bear
the trace
of someone’s fingers
on their handle or surface,
the trace of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.

I pause in houses,
streets and
elevators
touching things,
identifying objects
that I secretly covet;
this one because it rings,
that one because
it’s as soft
as the softness of a woman’s hip,
that one there for its deep-sea color,
and that one for its velvet feel.

O irrevocable
river
of things:
no one can say
that I loved
only
fish,
or the plants of the jungle and the field,
that I loved
only
those things that leap and climb, desire, and survive.
It’s not true:
many things conspired
to tell me the whole story.
Not only did they touch me,
or my hand touched them:
they were
so close
that they were a part
of my being,
they were so alive with me
that they lived half my life
and will die half my death.

—Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

¡Bibliophilia!
2026-06-13 14:00 - 16:00
Read any good books lately? What are your favorite books of all time? What books changed the way you understand and experience the world? Join Johnny for a lively dialogue about books

It’s gonna be FUN!.

¡Bibliophilia! Johnny Stallings hosts a conversation about books. There will be snacks.
Saturday, June 13, 2 pm
Artspace Room at Taborspace, 5441 SE Belmont
This Open Road event is free!

Monica Faricy! 6/16/26-8/23/26
2026-06-16 - 2026-08-23

A Midsummer Night's Dream
2026-06-18 - 2026-06-28

Consider This: Naomi Shihab Nye 6/18/26
2026-06-18 19:00 - 21:00
Open Road Recommends: Consider This. Naomi Shihab Nye reads from her work.
Thursday, June 18, 7 pm
Alberta Rose Theater
Tickets and info: https://albertarosetheatre.com/calendar (Sold Out)

An Artist Responds to War (film screening online) 6/20/26-7/12/26
2026-06-20 - 2026-07-12
Click here to get tickets for an opportunity–(between June 20th & July 12th)–to watch this 45-minute film online:

https://kinema.com/events/AN-ARTIST-RESPONDS-TO-WAR-bmyjsw

peace & love

Johnny

Naomi Shihab Nye & Kim Stafford: A Reading and Conversation 6/20/26
2026-06-20 18:30 - 20:00
Naomi Shihab Nye & Kim Stafford: A Reading and Conversation
Saturday, June 20, 2026, 6:30pm

Sanctuary Hall, First Congregational UCC (1126 SW Park Ave, Portland)
General Admission $15 | Student $8
Book signing to follow | ASL interpretation provided

Join two beloved voices in American poetry for an evening of reading and conversation rooted in legacy, humanity, and the power of language.Beloved poet Naomi Shihab Nye returns to Portland for a public reading, drawing from her expansive body of work. She is joined by past Oregon Poet Laureate Kim Stafford for an onstage conversation about poetry as daily practice, influence, and how creativity can sustain us in uncertain times.This special evening is presented by The Stafford Challenge and Wild Poet Events in partnership with Oregon Humanities and Lewis & Clark College.
Tickets: https://www.tickettailor.com/events/wildpoetevents/2066199

As You Like It
2026-06-26 - 2026-07-19
Howard Thoresen founded the Portland Actors Ensemble in 1970–along with Keith Scales, Alan Benditt, Aaron Smith & Hal Slater.
Free Shakespeare in the parks–what a wonderful idea!
Covid tried to put an end to it–but it’s back!
HOORAY!!!

Will Hornyak upcoming performances 6/26-7/24
2026-06-26 - 2026-07-24
Will at Hotel Zags (ORR): Will will be drawing from a variety of tales, songs and poems to suit the moment and the audience.

Hotel Zags
515 SW Clay St., in Portland

Fridays, June 26-July 24 7-9 p.m.

Will Hornyak at Hotel Zags 6/26-7/24
2026-06-26 - 2026-07-01
Dear Friends,

I’ve got a fun and free (!) storytelling gig I wanted to let you know about. I’m at the Hotel Zags in downtown Portland the next five Friday evenings from 7-9 p.m. I’ll be in their spacious outdoor seating area sharing stories with whomever drops by. They have several gas fire places, comfortable seating areas and a full restaurant and bar. Happy hour runs from 6-8 p.m. So, stop by for a drink, some vittles and a story or two. This is a very informal event so I’ll be drawing from a variety of tales, songs and poems to suit the moment and the audience. I’ve had three evenings at the Zags so far and they’ve gone well, but I’d love to have some of my own friends attend. Hope you can stop by.

All the best,
Will

Will at Hotel Zags:

515 SW Clay St., Portland, OR 97201

Fridays, June 26-July 24, 7-9 p.m.

peace, love, happiness & understanding 7/2/26
2026-07-02 - 2026-08-05
THE OPEN ROAD
peace, love, happiness & understanding

July 2, 2026

Jill wrote:

I have often mentioned that if you want a master class in noticing the magic in the ordinary take a walk with a two-year old. Here are some details that might bring that to light:

We got down the front stairs at Eliot and Britt’s house and paused so Edie could snap the buttons of her raincoat. She got them off at first and redid them. Then we opened the yellow duck-handle umbrella and I crouched down so she could put it over my head. At the sidewalk we noticed some crows socializing so we cawed to them.

First Block

At the alley we looked both ways and Edie certified there were no cars so we turned in. There was a grate so she walked back and forth over it several times and bent over to look at the leaves trapped below.
The pockets with snaps on her coat caught her attention and she felt inside to see if anything was in them. Crows chasing each other across the alley distracted her and we watched them settle on the telephone line above. Then Edie found some mud to step in until a bee flew by and we watched it disappear into a jasmine bush.
More mud play since she has her sparkle boots on today.
A pile of black dirt on a crack suggested ants so we watched that for a while but no ants emerged. Turns out they were a little ways down the alley, or a few were so we gave them our attention.
Bees/ants/mud for the next block. And squatting down for pinecones, exclaiming over bugs in gravel, picking the gravel up and watching it drop, riffling through it, finding a stone, wiping sandy hands on me, and greeting dogs and their walkers.
Then we came to a street, checked both ways, held hands and crossed.

Second block

In the first bush we checked for spider webs. Then Edie ran ahead, looking for puddles, but didn’t find any.
At the end of the alley we checked one backyard to see if the chickens were out. No chickens but a monster truck was parked close by!

Crossing to the park

Alberta Park had more rocks/gravel to pick up and watch drop. Sometimes Edie holds up her hands with little bits of something on them and I say she can rub her hands on my raincoat. I’m never sure what makes those bits bothersome since often she’ll happily play in dirt, get her hands dirty, and not notice.
As we walked on the sidewalk Edie ran ahead and found a big leaf to wave and used this fan to wave at cars and make a breeze for me. We cawed at more noisy crows. She dawdled behind and yelled for me to wait.
We found some sticky sap on the trees we were passing but didn’t touch it, remembering when we did and it was hard to get off.
We found a pole with stickers and used our knuckles to make a rhythmic beat.
We went up and down the embankment four times. Edie picked a tiny ground cover daisy-like flower and gave it to me. Then took it and rubbed the petals and yellow middle. She held it out in front of her and said, three times, “Here bees, I have a flower for you.”
We noticed some folks setting up for a garage sale, passed a doggie that scared Edie so she avoided it by going up the embankment, and after I followed her we walked to a baseball diamond. No one was there. We climbed on the bleachers.
I sat on a dry part and Edie told me to get up. When I said no we began a refrain of “No” “Yes” “No” “Yes” and I noticed her voice was getting higher, like it was a song. Then she slid over and tried to push me off but got bored and swung her legs instead. Then told me “That’s my side” and hit the aluminum seat with a big bang. It made a very satisfying sound. She flipped over and laid on her tummy and swung her legs. Explored the bleachers. Smelled dog poo. We wondered where it was and looked at the trash can, which had a metal top that made great sounds – a bit like a steel drum. Edie climbed up and down the bleachers, had me swing her off, got back on her tummy to swing her legs, noticed trucks passing by, and made use of her boots to clomp noisily on the aluminum seats.
Then it was time to continue and we went down the slope to the sidewalk – sideways since it was steep. We followed safe protocol checking on cars as we crossed Ainsworth Street. On the final part home we noticed the dogwoods were parched and I lifted her up to feel and hear the leaves. Passing a Corvette in a driveway she rubbed the headlight and hit the hood to hear the sound, which was pronounced a good one.
Finally we were on our block and checking out the bees in Caroline’s yard. Mostly bumblebees, busy gathering pollen except we noticed some seemed to be napping on the flower heads. Edie took a flower and waved it back and forth to disperse the water in its pockets but I mentioned it would wake the bee resting nearby. We admired Caroline’s daisies and how they were a bigger version of the tiny one she had picked earlier.
One final check as we crossed Cramer Street to our house and we were home, an hour after our adventure began.

—Jill Littlewood
*
Symmetry

Every morning I walk Wags up on the irrigation canal. Sometimes it’s a rambunctious romp, but more often it’s a mesmerizing, rhythmic, calming time of wonder and discovery. Lately I’ve been struck by symmetry: the beautiful chevron patterns on a clover leaf, the tessellated bark of an oak, the bilateral blue of the butterfly wings, feathers on a duck’s back, veins on a leaf, a fern…

And then there’s the miraculous Fibonacci Sequence. I remember being told about the Fibonacci Sequence and the Golden Ratio when my mom and dad explained it to me at twelve years old. Some parents give their kids the sex talk when they’re that age; mine told me about THE FIBONACCI SEQUENCE! and THE GOLDEN RATIO! I imagine you all know about it, but I remember being blown away, thinking, Really??? Wow!!! Are you sure??? Well, yes, it’s pretty amazing and wonderful. The pine cone, the pineapple, sunflower, snail shell, flower petals…the list goes on.

And what does that have to do with Peace Love Happiness and Understanding? I just know that when I’m paying attention to these small and wondrous things, I feel all of the above.

—Jude Russell
*

My Hauntings

I am arrested by the beautiful,
Stopped in my tracks by every
hummingbird or honeybee veering
in a blur through the somber conduct
of the modern world, by spring trees
spilling their light in a war zone, buds
bright on splintered branches, a spindle
of sunlight through storm cloud cover
that touches down on the wreckage we
have made of earth. What can I do
to recover honorable despair when
confronted by the stubborn kindness
of strangers, or the way a moth
keeps flying toward the moon?
Very soon I must get serious
but first this sip of old delight.

—Kim Stafford
*

Recently, I decided to immerse myself in the subject of Beauty. It’s been wonderful! One of the inspirations for this project has been Kathleen Raine’s essay “The Use of the Beautiful.” Here are the first two paragraphs:

What do we, at the present time, ask of poetry? I may be mistaken about precisely what is asked, but I think I am not mistaken in the conclusion that the present times does not ask — or receive — enough. Much verse published seems to set itself no goal beyond description, sometimes pleasing, but just as often of displeasing things seen or felt. I doubt if anything is to be learned from such descriptions or from the self-expression of the subjective states reflected in so much current verse. Far from expanding our consciousness, we have often, on the contrary, in order to understand such states to make ourselves smaller, like Alice, before we can get inside such mean rooms as are opened to us. Perhaps the poet gains by articulating and objectifying his neurosis (though I question whether that is the cure for souls it is said to be) but what the reader can hope to gain I fail to see. Does not the confusion at the present time come from the fact that many now writing, and writing about verse, are genuinely unaware that what they are writing about, is not, properly speaking, poetry at all — not in any way related to, or comparable with, the art as practiced and understood by those on whose account poets are, in all civilized societies, honored? It would be absurd to say that there should be no such thing as satirical verse, or descriptive, narrative, or occasional verse; what is deplorable is the confusion of mind which has arisen, even among those who claim to be poets: an ignorance of the order of things to which their own work purports to belong, a forgetting, a deliberate turning away from the recognition that they share neither the ends, the means, nor the knowledge, of what I cannot but call real poets.

There is one word for which we may look in vain in the writings of contemporary critics: the word beauty and the idea of the beautiful, has ceased to count for anything. Why is this? Has this age discovered something better or have we simply failed to understand a concept which to other civilizations has seemed inseparable from any consideration of the arts? I will not labour the obvious fact that this is a beautiless society. Does this matter? In losing beauty have we lost anything vital to our arts or indeed to our lives? No need to enumerate the material advantages of hygiene, transport, television, frozen vegetables and so on, not enjoyed by ages whose typical expressions were the sculptures and paintings, cathedrals and liturgy of the Christian religion; yet in terms of happiness, our exchange might be harder to defend, and in terms of the quality of our lives, harder still. George Russell, the Irish sage who wrote on the relation of what he called ‘the politics of time’ to ‘the politics of eternity’ observed that “One of the very first symptoms of the loss of the soul is the loss of the sense of beauty.” Is what our society has lost perhaps its soul?

—Kathleen Raine, “The Use of the Beautiful” (1966), from Defending Ancient Springs

In my quest for Beauty, I came upon a wonderful interview with John O’Donohue on YouTube called “What Is Beauty?” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkUrv4jWipY&t=540s) Highly recommended!

Another delight-filled project has been making versions of some of Thomas Traherne’s meditations—which I’m planning to make into a book. It’s hard to pick, but here are some of them:

20
Love with all your heart—and be happy. This world is then a jewel. It is Paradise. Everything is here for your delight. Love all that is good and enjoy what you love. Love is our nature. When we love everyone and are loved by everyone we are happy.

27
You never enjoy the world aright, till you see that a grain of sand is a perfect miracle. Everything is here for your delight—not just because things are beautiful, or useful, but because our life is woven into the tapestry of all that is. Wine quenches more than our thirst when we feel it to be one of the countless miracles which are ours to enjoy, and give thanks. When the happiness of others makes us happy, life is good. To be grateful for all our blessings is to be blessed, to live in Paradise.

28
Your enjoyment of the world is never right till every morning you awake in Paradise—until you look upon the earth and sky with boundless joy. If you are grateful for everything, no one who ever lived has more reason to be happy than you.

29
You never enjoy the world aright, till the sea flows in your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with the stars—till you perceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world, and more than so, because people are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you. Till you can sing and rejoice and delight in all of creation, as misers do in gold, you never enjoy the world.

81
Everywhere and at all times be ready to help others. Do it with infinite joy, knowing it is your duty. Since you have the privilege of enjoying the world, do your best to help others to find peace and love and happiness. In this way you are beautifying your life and perfuming the world. Every small charitable act benefits everyone everywhere.

82
There are virtuous people who are concealed like jewels. Dig for them! You will know them by their luster. Become virtuous, so that they may recognize you by your luster and desire and esteem you for your virtue. For as it is the glory of the sun that darkness cannot approach it, because it is always encompassed by its own beams, so lovers of virtue are always secure in their own light. Infuse yourself and your principles into beginners who desire to walk on the path of virtue. Mingle with those on the path as delightful companions. Those who are most sublime and perfect in the luster of their spirit will allure, protect, encourage, comfort, teach, honor and delight you. But you must be very good, for that is the way to find them. And very patient to endure some time, and very diligent to observe where they are.

83
Those you find of noble and benevolent natures—discreet and magnanimous, liberal and cheerful, wise and righteous—will be your greatest treasures. They will turn your world into a Paradise. They will give comfort and counsel to you, and in all tenderness, constancy, fidelity and love will share their life with your own. There are exceedingly few such friends. Yet some may doubtless be found. With half a dozen such as these, wisely chosen, we can entertain ourselves always with sublime dialogue and delight in our shared affection.

—Kathleen Raine, Thomas Traherne & Johnny Stallings

LARRY YES at Waterfront Blues Festival 7/2/26
2026-07-02 13:00 - 14:00
LARRY YES brings a massive amount of GOOD VIBES to Portland’s Waterfront Blues Festival

Larry Yes

(https://waterfrontbluesfest.com/) on July 2nd, at the River Rhythms Stage at 1:15 pm.

NOT TO BE MISSED!!!

Napping Tournament 7/12/26
2026-07-12 13:00 - 15:00
