BEGIN:VCALENDAR VERSION:2.0 PRODID:-//The Open Road: a learning community - ECPv6.15.3//NONSGML v1.0//EN CALSCALE:GREGORIAN METHOD:PUBLISH X-WR-CALNAME:The Open Road: a learning community X-ORIGINAL-URL:https://openroadpdx.com X-WR-CALDESC:Events for The Open Road: a learning community REFRESH-INTERVAL;VALUE=DURATION:PT1H X-Robots-Tag:noindex X-PUBLISHED-TTL:PT1H BEGIN:VTIMEZONE TZID:America/Los_Angeles BEGIN:DAYLIGHT TZOFFSETFROM:-0800 TZOFFSETTO:-0700 TZNAME:PDT DTSTART:20240310T100000 END:DAYLIGHT BEGIN:STANDARD TZOFFSETFROM:-0700 TZOFFSETTO:-0800 TZNAME:PST DTSTART:20241103T090000 END:STANDARD BEGIN:DAYLIGHT TZOFFSETFROM:-0800 TZOFFSETTO:-0700 TZNAME:PDT DTSTART:20250309T100000 END:DAYLIGHT BEGIN:STANDARD TZOFFSETFROM:-0700 TZOFFSETTO:-0800 TZNAME:PST DTSTART:20251102T090000 END:STANDARD END:VTIMEZONE BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20241107 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20241205 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241107T222700Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241107T224433Z UID:5206-1730937600-1733356799@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 11/7/24 DESCRIPTION:“The School of Athens” by Raphael \n  \nTHIS IS THE 100th ISSUE OF peace\, love\, happiness & understanding!!! \n  \nNovember 7\, 2024 \n  \nCoffee Shop Philosophy \n  \nThe first question is: what’s the difference between “coffee shop philosophy” and “philosophy”? \n  \nPhilosophy is an academic discipline\, taught in universities. Philosophy professors teach students about the Famous Philosophers and their ideas. The list of Famous Philosophers is not an especially long one. It includes people like Plato and Descartes and Spinoza and Hegel. Those guys. \n  \nCoffee shop philosophy is an informal inquiry into the meaning of life\, which can take place anywhere\, but thrives especially in…coffee shops. And tea shops. There are no professors. No experts. All participants have equal status. The questions are immediate\, not abstract. They are personal. In academic philosophy\, thinking has primacy. Coffee shop philosophizing includes thinking\, but also feeling. Academic Philosophy asks: “What did Kant think?” Coffee shop philosophy asks: “What do you think?” \n  \nOriginally\, the word “philosopher” meant “lover of wisdom.” Is wisdom confined to what the Famous Philosophers wrote? I don’t think so. Here are some of the people who are not taught in academic philosophy classes: Martin Luther King\, Walt Whitman\, Susan Griffin\, William Shakespeare\, Black Elk\, Lao Tzu\, J. Krishnamurti\, William Blake\, Fyodor Dostoevsky—all wise people! It’s a much\, much longer list of people whose writings can enrich and illumine our lives\, but who are not Famous Philosophers. \n  \nCoffee shop philosophy is friendly. There is laughter! There are no grades. You can’t fail. Friends get together to talk about what is most urgent to them. It can include psychology\, ecology\, poetry\, love\, happiness\, death! Everything! We wonder about the meaning of our life. What are we doing here? We want to become wiser\, kinder\, more happy\, more free. We talk about our life journeys\, what we’ve learned so far\, what continues to baffle us. \n  \nI took a couple Philosophy classes in college\, long long ago. For more than 50 years now I’ve been avidly practicing coffee shop philosophy—alone and with others. If you keep a journal\, you can have a long long philosophical conversation with yourself. \n  \nI’ve learned more about living\, more about happiness\, more about love\, more about freedom—more actual wisdom—from Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself” than from any other writing. Because he’s labeled a “poet\,” and not a “philosopher\,” he’s not studied in Philosophy classes. I think of Walt as my friend—along with William Shakespeare and Thich Nhat Hanh and John Moriarty and Brian Doyle and many many other friends whose books fill my bookshelves and spill over onto the floor. I think of them as companions on my life journey\, as fellow coffee shop philosophers. \n  \nThe endless deep dialogues I’ve had with friends in coffee shops and tea shops and prisons have greatly enriched my life. For thirteen years I practiced coffee shop philosophy every week with men in Oregon prisons. There was no coffee. But there was something beautiful that I don’t know how to describe. I guess the closest word is “love.” \n  \nI love books! I’ve learned a lot from books\, but we also gain wisdom from our life experience\, and from sharing our experience and insights with each other. We need coffee shop philosophy! We need each other! \n  \nThese days I still get together with friends for coffee and deep dialogue every week. We do it because we love to have big personal conversations about life and love and what’s going on within us and around us.  Over time\, we get to know each other better and love each other more deeply. That seems like a good thing for humans to do.   \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \n  \nCan you feel surging joy and profound sadness at the same time? How can a heart handle both at once? \n  \nOnce in the habit of morning walks with the dog\, the habit continues without the dog\, Lolo having died about one and a half months ago. She was sixteen years old\, and we’d rescued her fifteen years earlier from Home At Last animal shelter in The Dalles. They had found her wandering the streets of Shaniko\, a ghost town in Oregon. Scrawny and fearful\, she cowered when anyone tried to touch her; but I knew that with time and love and stability and security she would be a perfect pooch. And she was. Hiking\, backpacking\, snowshoeing\, beach walking—she went pretty much everywhere with us. Everyone loved her and she loved everyone. The great comfort dog. Any shred of anger\, depression\, fear or disappointment would melt away when I touched her silky ears. So you can surely understand the sadness I feel. \n  \nSo what’s with the surging joy??? Is that possible? Well\, I walk out the door and am kicking through huge\, magical\, golden maple leaves the size of dinner plates.  They’re spinning\, spiraling slowly beneath a vault of blue. Blue sky\, white clouds\, yellow gold leaves; how could I not feel a surge of joy?!  It overtakes my heart. \n  \nMore joy: It’s a good thing to spend time deciding whether you love October or November more. A contest for best month of the year. This is good: Is it the bustling oranges and reds and yellows of the buckets and buckets of leaves filling your vision in October? Or is it the beauty and starkness of the bare\, black\, muscular limbs once the leaves have shed in November? After all\, it’s then that you can see through  the bushy busy-ness of trees\, to the hills beyond\, to the mountains beyond. It’s then that you can settle into the spareness of November\, settle into the cool rain patters\, and the darkened mornings and evenings. I love it.  \n  \nCan I feel both\, then—-joy and sadness? I decree that yes I can\, and  do. \n  \n—Jude Russell \n* \n  \nKim Stafford’s latest book is A Proclamation for Peace: Translated into World Languages. In the book\, his poem “A Proclamation for Peace” is translated into 50 different languages\, including Arabic\, Armenian\, Ashaninka & Bislama; Gaeilge\, Greek & Hebrew; Pashto\, Persian & Punjabi; Quechua\, Romani\, Romanian & Russian; Tagalog\, Tamil & Thai; Ukrainian & Vietnamese; Yoruba\, Yucatec & Zapotec. The book can be ordered from bookshop.org. Here’s the English version of the poem: \n  \nA Proclamation for Peace \n  \nWhereas the world is a house on fire; \nWhereas the nations are filled with shouting;  \nWhereas hope seems small\, sometimes \n     a single bird on a wire \n     left by migration behind. \n  \nWhereas kindness is seldom in the news \n     and peace an abstraction \n     while war is real; \n  \nWhereas words are all I have; \nWhereas my life is short;  \nWhereas I am afraid; \nWhereas I am free—despite all \n     fire and anger and fear; \n  \nBe it therefore resolved a song \nshall be my calling—a song \nnot yet made shall be my vocation \nand peaceful words the work \nof my remaining days. \n  \n—Kim Stafford\, originally published in Wild Honey\, Tough Salt \n* \n  \nI also wrote a proclamation for peace. Coincidence? Peace is always something we can use more of\, so I’ll include it here: \n  \nMy Foolproof Plan for World Peace \n  \nI hereby declare today to be International Love Day. \nAnd a General Armistice. \nAll hostilities must cease on International Love Day. \nHenceforward\, every day is International Love Day. \n  \n—Johnny Stallings\, from The Nonstop Love-In: poems\, stories\, essays & other writings \n  \nshāntih  shāntih  shāntih URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-11-7-24/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/original.jpg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20241205 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20250102 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241205T175256Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241205T175256Z UID:5274-1733356800-1735775999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:peace\, love\, happiness & understanding 12/5/24 DESCRIPTION:photograph of flower & bee by Abe Green \n  \nTHE OPEN ROAD \npeace\, love\, happiness & understanding \n\nDecember 5\, 2024 \n  \nJill Littlewood sent this: \n  \nGate A-4 \n  \nWandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal\, after learning\nmy flight had been delayed four hours\, I heard an announcement:\n“If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic\, please\ncome to the gate immediately.” \nWell—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there. \nAn older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress\, just\nlike my grandma wore\, was crumpled to the floor\, wailing. “Help\,”\nsaid the flight agent. “Talk to her. What is her problem? We\ntold her the flight was going to be late and she did this.” \nI stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly.\n“Shu-dow-a\, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway\, Min fadlick\, Shu-bit-\nse-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew\, however poorly\nused\, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled\nentirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the\nnext day. I said\, “No\, we’re fine\, you’ll get there\, just later\, who is\npicking you up? Let’s call him.” \nWe called her son\, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would\nstay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to \nher. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just \nfor the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while\nin Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends. Then I \nthought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know\nand let them chat with her? This all took up two hours. \nShe was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life\, patting my knee\,\nanswering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool\ncookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and\nnuts—from her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate.\nTo my amazement\, not a single woman declined one. It was like a\nsacrament. The traveler from Argentina\, the mom from California\, the\nlovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered\nsugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie. \nAnd then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two\nlittle girls from our flight ran around serving it and they\nwere covered with powdered sugar\, too. And I noticed my new best friend—\nby now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag\,\nsome medicinal thing\, with green furry leaves. Such an old country tradi-\ntion. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. \nAnd I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought\, This\nis the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that\ngate—once the crying of confusion stopped—seemed apprehensive about\nany other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women\, too. \nThis can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost. \n  \n—Naomi Shihab Nye \n* \n  \nMiracles \n  \nWhy\, who makes much of a miracle? \nAs to me I know of nothing else but miracles\, \nWhether I walk the streets of Manhattan\, \nOr dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky\, \nOr wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water\, \nOr stand under trees in the woods\, \nOr talk by day with any one I love\, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love\, \nOr sit at table at dinner with the rest\, \nOr look at strangers opposite me riding in the car\, \nOr watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon\, \nOr animals feeding in the fields\, \nOr birds\, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air\, \nOr the wonderfulness of the sundown\, or of stars shining so quiet and bright\, \nOr the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; \nThese with the rest\, one and all\, are to me miracles\, \nThe whole referring\, yet each distinct and in its place. \nTo me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle\, \nEvery cubic inch of space is a miracle\, \nEvery square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same\, \nEvery foot of the interior swarms with the same. \nTo me the sea is a continual miracle\, \nThe fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the ships with men in them\, \nWhat stranger miracles are there? \n  \n—Walt Whitman \n* \n  \nOn November 23rd\, I gave a reading of my version of Dostoevsky’s short story\, “The Dream of a Ridiculous Man” at Taborspace in Portland. You can find the text in Issue #63 of “peace\, love\, happiness & understanding\,” (December 23\, 2021)\, on the Open Road website (https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-12-23-21/). In the story\, a guy dreams that he goes to a planet where there is no hatred\, or violence or fear. When he wakes up\, he wants to tell everyone that we can all live together in love. \nWhen I first read that story\, long ago\, I realized that I too am a ridiculous man. To prove it\, here’s a brief excerpt from my journal entry from yesterday: \n  \nisn’t there enough suffering in the world\, without having wars?…. \nwhy do we have wars? \nthey’re not helping anything \nwar is the opposite of culture that nurtures \nthe culture of war produces suffering and death \nhow much money does the united states spend on the military and on weapons every year? \ni don’t know \na lot \neven a little would be too much \nwe should be helping each other \nnot hurting each other \nisn’t this obvious? \nwe should be loving \nnot hating \nloving everyone \nall people and plants and animals and rivers and clouds and dirt \nthat’s what i want to promote: \nlove for every being and for every good thing \nno thank you to hatred and violence and fear \n  \n—Johnny Stallings \n* \nRemember? \n  \nRemember that day \nWhen the war ended \nAnd you climbed from your trenches \nAnd we oozed from our bunkers \nLeaving guns and grenades \nBullets and bayonets behind? \n  \nRemember how we sang in the streets \nDanced in the fountains \nCrazy with Joy? \nRemember how clouds lifted\, hearts rose \nVengeance\, bitterness\, hatred and rage \nFell away like graveclothes? \n  \nRemember how we stood \nTall and happy \nIn the morning light \nEyeing the world \nAnd one another \nWith new eyes? \n  \nRemember \nHow in that ecstasy \nWe forgot \nIf ours was a blue state or red \nLiberal cause or conservative stand? \n  \nRemember \nHow easily we remembered \nWho we were \nFrom where we had come \nWhy we were here \nWhere we were going \nAnd what we should do? \n  \nI will never forget that day \nWhen the war ended \nAnd trust sprouted and spread \nLike a sea of green grass \nAcross every divide\, covering every division \nUniting all into one state of grace \nIndivisible\, at peace \nUnder heaven. \n  \n—Will Hornyak\, from This Altar of Earth and Sky \n* \n  \nCanary in the Mind \n  \nIf you descend to sorrow\, take a little singer \nto carry through the dark some color of he sun. \nTunneling through trouble\, guard your little light\, \nshield your little singer for the good of everyone. \nIf your singer falters\, if your mind grows dim\, \nIf your breath grows shallow\, if your days are grim\, \nfeed your little singer seeds of hope again. \nIn the cave of grief\, with every breath begin. \n  \n—“Canary in the Mind” is reprinted from As the Sky Begins to Change (Red Hen Press\, 2024) by permission of Kim Stafford \n* \n  \nRepeat the Sounding Joy \n  \nThe camellias know \nas do creatures \nmoving in piled \nleaf litter\, chaff. \n  \nUnder yet unfallen snow \nbranches threatened by ice \nplodders do their work\, \ndistracted we laugh. \n  \nThe hills remember \nas do streams \nfish swim on up \nwriggling into our dreams. \n  \nRumble underfoot \nin the sky\, repeat the story \nthroughout this land \nsunrise brings glory \n  \nIf we notice \nas we stand. \n  \n—Elizabeth Domike \n* \n  \nI’ve been listening each night to two owls who must have decided to stay in the neighborhood for the winter. Owls don’t migrate but they do move around some and often return or remain in a familiar woods. When they Who Hoot\, I think of the squirrels and little rodents who are also trying to stay alive in the cold. But i do love their voices and am glad to have enough woodsy life to have them make a home here too. They make many of us beings pay attention. Here’s a poem by Mary Oliver:  \n  \nSnowy Night \n  \nLast night\, an owl \nin the blue dark \ntossed an indeterminate number \nof carefully shaped sounds into \nthe world\, in which\, \na quarter of a mile away\, I happened \nto be standing. \nI couldn’t tell \nwhich one it was – \nthe barred or the great-horned \nship of the air – \nit was that distant. But\, anyway\, \naren’t there moments \nthat are better than knowing something\, \nand sweeter? Snow was falling\, \nso much like stars \nfilling the dark trees \nthat one could easily imagine \nits reason for being was nothing more \nthan prettiness. I suppose \nif this were someone else’s story \nthey would have insisted on knowing \nwhatever is knowable – would have hurried \nover the fields \nto name it – the owl\, I mean. \nBut it’s mine\, this poem of the night\, \nand I just stood there\, listening and holding out \nmy hands to the soft glitter \nfalling through the air. I love this world\, \nbut not for its answers. \nAnd I wish good luck to the owl\, \nwhatever its name – \nand I wish great welcome to the snow\, \nwhatever its severe and comfortless \nand beautiful meaning.    \n  \n—Mary Oliver \n  \n—Katie Radditz \n* \n  \nNovember 5\, 2024. A day of reckoning. What was I ever going to do from this point on??? This is what I have been examining all month long\, and this is what I have concluded: There are three realms in my life (and in others’). \nFirst is my personal realm. That includes family\, friends\, nature\, activities and situations I can manage\, maintain\, help\, change. I made a list of those: \n\nI can donate blood (done! donation #175 since I was 18)\nI can complete my training as a hospice volunteer in the Gorge (done! Waiting for assignment.)\nI can volunteer to walk dogs at the Hood River Adopt A Dog shelter. (Not done. We went a leap beyond and adopted a dog!) (She’s a work in progress. Progress\, not perfection)\nI can make a lunch/update date with my several ‘kids’ I’ve known for 30 years from our Youth-At-Risk program. (planning stage.)\nI can DOUBLE my donations to favorite organizations (Planned Parenthood\, Nature Conservancy\, Doctors without Borders\, OHOM\, etc.)\n\nMaking this list and carrying through with it at least gives me peace of mind\, happiness\, and a sense of control. \nSecond is the national/country realm. That includes national politics\, Trump\, media\, environment/climate change\, et.al. ad nauseam. This is heartbreaking and infuriating\, and\, honestly\, there is not a lot I can do to change or control this second realm. I will leave it at that. \nThird and last is the universal/cosmic/infinite realm. Paradoxically\, this is comforting; I am a speck\, the height of insignificance\, nada in the infinite time and space dimension\, so nothing really matters in this universal realm. I am here\, I will be gone\, in no time it will be as if I never existed. Live my joy of life\, do my best in my personal realm and…let the rest go. \nThe three realms. Amen. \n  \n—Jude Russell URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/peace-love-happiness-understanding-12-5-24/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/0.jpeg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241207T190000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241207T203000 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241204T193320Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241204T193646Z UID:5251-1733598000-1733603400@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:A Proclamation for Peace Poetry Reading DESCRIPTION:  \nA Proclamation for Peace: Translated for the World (ORR) Kim Stafford & Friends read Kim’s poem “A Proclamation for Peace” in English and in other languages. \nSaturday\, December 7\, 7 pm \nBold Coffee & Books\, 1755 SW Jefferson \nhttps://boldcoffeeandbooks.com/events/ \n  \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/a-proclamation-for-peace-poetry-reading/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/51ceUVrxIAL._AC_UY436_QL65_.jpg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241210T190000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241210T210000 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241204T194212Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241204T194304Z UID:5255-1733857200-1733864400@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Tenth of December: a live reading DESCRIPTION:  \nTenth of December (ORE) Johnny Stallings reads George Saunders’ amazing short story. \nLIVE: Tuesday\, December 10\, 7 pm \nLibrary at Taborspace\, 5441 SE Belmont \nFree \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/tenth-of-december-a-live-reading/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241211T190000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241211T210000 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241204T194716Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241204T194804Z UID:5260-1733943600-1733950800@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Tenth of December: a Zoom reading (on the 11th) DESCRIPTION:  \nTenth of December (ORE) Johnny Stallings reads George Saunders’ amazing short story. \nON ZOOM: Wednesday\, December 11\, 7 pm \nZoom link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87176604491 URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/tenth-of-december-a-zoom-reading-on-the-11th/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;VALUE=DATE:20241214 DTEND;VALUE=DATE:20250216 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241207T205045Z LAST-MODIFIED:20250215T195706Z UID:5281-1734134400-1739663999@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Monthly Online Seminar: Culture That Nurtures DESCRIPTION:  \nCulture That Nurtures \n  \nIn this monthly online seminar\, we will explore various ways we can help to co-create a culture that nurtures everyone. Although people are welcome to present (non-academic) papers or poems\, no advance preparation is necessary. \n  \nHere’s the Zoom link: \n  \nhttps://us02web.zoom.us/j/87193719372 \n  \nSaturday\, December 14\, 1-3: Happiness!  What can we learn from each other about happiness\, joy\, pleasure\, ecstasy\, humor\, delight\, well-being? \n  \nSaturday\, January 18\, 1-3: How Can I Help? In the wake of the recent election\, everyone I know is wondering what we can do. \n  \nSaturday\, February 15\, 1-3: Creativity What can we do as artists\, poets\, musicians\, storytellers\, photographers\, actors\, dancers to bless and enliven our culture? \n  \nI hope you can take part in this ongoing Deep Dialogue! \n  \nThis online Open Road event is free. \n  \npeace\, love & happiness   \n  \nJohnny URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/monthly-online-seminar-culture-that-nurtures/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/original.jpg END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241215T150000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241215T170000 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241204T200736Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241219T053410Z UID:5265-1734274800-1734282000@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:¡Bibliophiles Unanimous!: Poems! DESCRIPTION:Emily Dickinson \n  \n¡Bibliophiles Unanimous!  Friendly online conversation that starts out with books and…meanders. On December 15th\, at 3 pm (PST) our topic is Poems. Bring poems to read that you have written yourself\, or favorite poems by other people–alive and dead. \n  \n Here’s the Zoom link: \n  \n https://us02web.zoom.us/j/87614013058.   \n  \nThis is a free Open Road event. \n  \nI hope to see you there! \n  \npeace\, love & poetry \n  \nJohnny \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/bibliophiles-unanimous-poems/ END:VEVENT BEGIN:VEVENT DTSTART;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241221T180000 DTEND;TZID=America/Los_Angeles:20241221T200000 DTSTAMP:20260424T193834 CREATED:20241219T051631Z LAST-MODIFIED:20241219T054857Z UID:5303-1734804000-1734811200@openroadpdx.com SUMMARY:Solstice Stories: Tales for the Darkest Night DESCRIPTION:  \nWill Hornyak & Ingrid Nixon \n  \nZoom Live \n  \nSaturday\, December 21st\, 6 pm\, Pacific Time \nWaiting room opens at 5:30 pm \n  \nJoin Will and Ingrid \non a journey through myths\, tales\, poems and songs \ncelebrating the blessed dark and fertile dream-time of the Winter Solstice. \nAnticipate equal doses of soul\, mirth\, magic and amusement \nto brighten the dark time of year. \n  \nRecommended for ages 12 and older. \n  \nDonations are appreciated. \nFor more info\, contact Will at: hornyak.will@gmail.com \n  URL:https://openroadpdx.com/event/tales-for-the-longest-night/ ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/jpeg:https://openroadpdx.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/unnamed-scaled.jpg END:VEVENT END:VCALENDAR