tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-133262682024-03-18T20:15:00.364-07:00Esther's Writing Works for memory, healing & art's sakeEsther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.comBlogger307125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-79214377860175922852020-11-25T12:51:00.001-08:002020-11-25T12:51:55.402-08:00<p> Nov 1, 2020</p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Heschel, King, Abernathy” acrylic and newspaper on 6”x 8” canvas, Covid-19 Art Project.</span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve had this pic on my bulletin board for years. Now it’s on a canvas and part of my Covid-19 Art Project, which I’ll make a blog for at some point. I know these sages are praying for Joe Biden and peace.</div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp6rVfugMlOepvj4l-M8Lg52tRXNeN5U-kO9A7TvD9v3tngPkVx7PzoZzyiY6IgVGjQOclm-qoo58aikzEk1mBntnd7FQgwr45gzuqwur2m_4IqIyPkOLFFdxf5R-nplzg7kp/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="509" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdp6rVfugMlOepvj4l-M8Lg52tRXNeN5U-kO9A7TvD9v3tngPkVx7PzoZzyiY6IgVGjQOclm-qoo58aikzEk1mBntnd7FQgwr45gzuqwur2m_4IqIyPkOLFFdxf5R-nplzg7kp/w318-h400/image.png" width="318" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-30715545985765824122020-11-25T12:22:00.005-08:002020-11-25T12:22:56.549-08:00<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lenny,” #24 in my Covid-19 Collage Art Series. Acrylic, photos, Mother’s dressmaking scraps and string on 8x10 canvas. Nov. 2019. Assemblage Collage Artists</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TU-QyXx74LQ_eIuUvNrhPThb5tOUCgeAkmzUcGbjNfYkpB5C8o71KFqg21ODh3KbKyZVvb-EWH7v70AO7VcYMh3Sq4EOdOA8d5LzYMYvtmtvxlA2CyfonaJit21ElbcJd8vH/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="526" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TU-QyXx74LQ_eIuUvNrhPThb5tOUCgeAkmzUcGbjNfYkpB5C8o71KFqg21ODh3KbKyZVvb-EWH7v70AO7VcYMh3Sq4EOdOA8d5LzYMYvtmtvxlA2CyfonaJit21ElbcJd8vH/w496-h640/image.png" width="496" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-22177883322037490092020-11-25T12:20:00.002-08:002020-11-25T13:10:52.863-08:00<p> <span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Loreen Lee and the Lava Never Sleeps,” Women and Their Books Series #1 - Acrylic, newsprint, and photos on 4x4 canvas. I like the idea of doing this series, with all the potential it provides. I'll do Jackie's books and mine. That will take me plenty of time. I like the idea of keeping this subject matter separate from the Covid-19 series, even though I'm creating the pieces during that time. I want a different halo for this topic, and I like starting the series with Loreen's work because the book already seems to have a halo around it.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk5cbQdv1JjirLdNMznLN64U6Mhilqv8S5x4vEDSAfiaeJaygqvYC9NxhVg9b1pJb_bRhh1VXIDuLib25YlRyMYJYEd4YH2mm6WEOXGYFkQDhL4G3lqmCiKoO2j_W1Nh-9ys9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="502" height="511" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPk5cbQdv1JjirLdNMznLN64U6Mhilqv8S5x4vEDSAfiaeJaygqvYC9NxhVg9b1pJb_bRhh1VXIDuLib25YlRyMYJYEd4YH2mm6WEOXGYFkQDhL4G3lqmCiKoO2j_W1Nh-9ys9/w451-h511/image.png" width="451" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-6908190690655396492020-11-25T12:12:00.004-08:002020-11-25T12:18:02.821-08:00“Ian and Zalia at Isa’s Wedding, 2000"<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ian and Zalia at Isa’s Wedding, 2000” #23 in my Covid 19 Collage-Art series. Acrylic, photo, and bottle-cap inserts on 6x8 canvas. Nov. 3, 2020 Assemblage Collage Artists</span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJHKLJOuaXVYkkDUzcZ4DjkhzhJPMDLG3lPNvi6eRjzVAAkoxAHq4sYaN5Hj-2K7lmmLByk5-8bldE7aON8N7O6RtrQqTDYoYWUsuAMBMTPOGiTRthLdAqOmtgV7Apy07LosT/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="526" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJHKLJOuaXVYkkDUzcZ4DjkhzhJPMDLG3lPNvi6eRjzVAAkoxAHq4sYaN5Hj-2K7lmmLByk5-8bldE7aON8N7O6RtrQqTDYoYWUsuAMBMTPOGiTRthLdAqOmtgV7Apy07LosT/w496-h640/image.png" width="496" /></a></p><br /><p></p>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-84021251268339391282019-10-05T20:51:00.000-07:002019-10-05T20:57:40.733-07:00A Man Died in My Alley Today<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfa_HrEKZRISogXHE9LkoO9RWs8VD84MQmmfxADuNu_zdI5brO9La2nIA8iVQieqv7DSuWkZSn1ZerJkDvU1V36RWSu5W8JNdl0O2qIO1bqRhcWcrR5IfVU57i1zRqb1TOLh4c/s1600/smokey+10-4-19+in+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="640" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfa_HrEKZRISogXHE9LkoO9RWs8VD84MQmmfxADuNu_zdI5brO9La2nIA8iVQieqv7DSuWkZSn1ZerJkDvU1V36RWSu5W8JNdl0O2qIO1bqRhcWcrR5IfVU57i1zRqb1TOLh4c/s320/smokey+10-4-19+in+color.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A man died in my alley today, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">behind the next-door neighbor’s house. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">SmokeyBro had been barking for ten/fifteen minutes and when I finally went downstairs to see what was wrong, there were police cars, an ambulance and, on the side of the road, the man with the long beard who walked by my house on the way to and from the bus stop.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He was scrunched up against the brick wall. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">His knees were black and blue, his knuckles scraped to red; his eyes vacant. God, I didn't want him to be dead.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I asked one of the police officers if he would tell me the man’s name but he said he wasn’t allowed to.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pjeMdqQYTD2NhTyzvb4nLUUX3K4AmArriEhCxLQQt4yW37pAwywtQPPHAQUc2bSt9iUQ7fM7ZgKa6LD-cLrVEk4RnoRuO-wBe2hNLaPiPMZppl1BEkChTeuz4k6681R9wPy/s1600/homeless+camp+2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="613" data-original-width="920" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7pjeMdqQYTD2NhTyzvb4nLUUX3K4AmArriEhCxLQQt4yW37pAwywtQPPHAQUc2bSt9iUQ7fM7ZgKa6LD-cLrVEk4RnoRuO-wBe2hNLaPiPMZppl1BEkChTeuz4k6681R9wPy/s320/homeless+camp+2016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He said the man was probably a transient or living in one of the encampments. That had never occurred to me.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He must have had a stroke or heart attack, fallen forward on his hands and knees and pushed himself to the alley's edge to lean against the wall.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Neighbors up the street were waiting for more information. His face was stark white, I tell them, but his eyes looked as if he could have been alive, like maybe he was just scared.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I was sorry I hadn’t stayed to watch them cover him up and lift him into the ambulance - I would have liked to have seen him one more time, even dead; but SmokeyBro was barking non-stop and it felt </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">sacreligious not </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">to get him away from there.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The man was wearing light clothing, a T-shirt, blue sweater and tan Bermuda shorts. It was warm this morning, sunny, about 60 degrees...</span><br />
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<br />Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-55370202829785875372019-09-16T17:58:00.001-07:002019-09-25T12:47:00.254-07:00<h2 style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.68px;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;">Writing and Widowhood</span></span></b></h2>
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a class with Esther Altshul Helfgott</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> November 4, 11, 18, 25 </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Greenwood Senior Center - </span></b><b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">206-297-0875</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ccording to the dictionary, a widow is “a
woman who has lost her spouse by death and has not remarried.” Another
definition refers to a widow as “empty.” Through writing exercises and discussion,
we will explore the waves</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> of grief that continue long after a love
one’s death (even after remarriage). We will ask ourselves questions: Do I
become a new person after my loved-one dies? Must I recreate myself? Can I
still have fun? Writing has always helped me come back to myself. I’m hoping
this class will help you too. In the meantime, make a list of words associated
with the word “widow.” Here’s a start: widow’s peak, widow’s chamber, widow’s
hand, and the flower, widow’s frill.</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Widow’s frill</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Esther Altshul Helfgott is a nonfiction
writer & poet with a Ph.D. in history from the University of Washington.
She is the author of <em>Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer’s </em>(Yakima,
WA: Cave Moon Press, 2014); <em>Dear Alzheimer’s: A Caregiver’s Diary &
Poems </em>(Yakima, WA: Cave Moon Press, 2013); <i>The Homeless One: A Poem in Many Voices</i> (Seattle: Kota Press, 2000).
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Her
work appears in <i>Beyond Forgetting: Poetry
and Prose about Alzheimer's Disease</i>, American Imago; <i>BlackPast</i>;
<i>Blue Lyre Review</i>; <i>Cirque</i>, <i>Floating Bridge Review, HistoryLink.org; Journal of
Poetry Therapy; Raven Chronicles</i></span><span style="background: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> and elsewhere.
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">She
is the founder of Seattle's <i>It's
About Time Writers Reading Series</i>, now in its 29<sup>th</sup> year,
and is editor with Peggy Sturdivant and Katie Tynan of the forthcoming <i>So,
Dear Writer: An It's About Time Writers' Reading Series Anthology…</i> (Yakima: Cave Moon Press, 2019)</span></div>
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<br />Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-61855226932220543822019-09-08T18:34:00.000-07:002019-09-25T13:14:13.679-07:00Writing to Heal<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">5 Wednesdays in Oct.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><u></u><u></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16.8px;">6:30-8:30 pm</span><b><u></u><u></u></b></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">$125. email me if interested </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt;">eahelfgott@gmail.com</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Writing helps to heal from life’s surprises and also helps to celebrate them. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Writing elicits insight. It fosters self-understanding & personal </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Bring a notebook, a pencil or pen. Take a seat at the table. I’ll give you a prompt – a poem, say. Or a piece of conversation—and begin writing. In any form or style that comes to mind. Don’t worry about commas, semicolons, question marks or spaces. Just write - scribble, ramble - until I tell you to stop. Then, if you want, you’ll read, or talk about, what you’ve written. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">growth.Writing helps us remember ourselves in the past. It uncovers silences & secrets & helps us confront suffering & loss.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkoD71YouTibI4nIG2GKZJYgnC1OHYcpZRdzJOA-BZqoFC8Vfkt5h415AWEsJ2uL-UMj6n8vJVV6Sn6rAH2Jq9EfVZCKctRzGa-Rif9yAtHhk3kJnJFrCINJNMNu2r_IKj34X4/s1600/LISTENGMOZART.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="231" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkoD71YouTibI4nIG2GKZJYgnC1OHYcpZRdzJOA-BZqoFC8Vfkt5h415AWEsJ2uL-UMj6n8vJVV6Sn6rAH2Jq9EfVZCKctRzGa-Rif9yAtHhk3kJnJFrCINJNMNu2r_IKj34X4/s200/LISTENGMOZART.jpg" width="140" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULijc26LsUgkLYEMftpBfnzKYUIfYpKVP3quJoAEG9rTtbWJkpsLeYoSx3u1E-m_oa17YzCEEbRYFdEAeCTh71ZVnrTOkaPi-LhgWvNONrYj4hMhyphenhyphenZ7SIrIkz021tdzQ1VgiQ/s1600/DEARALZEIMER%2527S.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="234" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULijc26LsUgkLYEMftpBfnzKYUIfYpKVP3quJoAEG9rTtbWJkpsLeYoSx3u1E-m_oa17YzCEEbRYFdEAeCTh71ZVnrTOkaPi-LhgWvNONrYj4hMhyphenhyphenZ7SIrIkz021tdzQ1VgiQ/s200/DEARALZEIMER%2527S.jpg" width="147" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://writingworks.homestead.com/~local/~Preview/June2006.html">www.estherhelfgott.com</a><br />
<span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Esther Altshul Helfgott is a non-fiction writer & poet with a Ph.D. in history from the University of Washington. She is the editor with Peggy Sturdivant and Katie Tynan of the forthcoming anthology </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">So, Dear Writer… An It’s About Time Writers’ Reading Series Anthology</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (Cave Moon Press, 2019). S<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">he is the author of <em>Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer’s </em>(Yakima, WA: Cave Moon Press, 2014; <em>Dear Alzheimer’s: A Caregiver’s Diary & Poems </em>(Yakima, WA: Cave Moon Press, 2013); <i>The Homeless One: A Poem in Many Voices</i> (Seattle: Kota Press, 2000). </span>Her work appears in <i>American Imago: Psychoanalysis and the Human Sciences</i>; <i>Beyond Forgetting: Poetry and Prose about Alzheimer's Disease</i>; <i>BlackPast: Remembered and Reclaimed;</i> <i>Blue Lyre Review</i>; <i>Cirque:</i> <i>A Literary Journal for Alaska and the Pacific Northwest</i>; </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Floating Bridge Review; HistoryLink<span style="color: black;">;</span> Journal of Poetry Therapy; Literary Mama; Pontoon; <span style="color: black;">Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy Review</span></span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">; </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Raven Chronicles, Ribbons; Seattle Star;</span></i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> & others. She is the founder of Seattle's <i>It's About Time Writers’ Reading Series</i>, now in its 29<sup>th</sup> year; and she, especially, loves the poetry pole her kids built her for Mothers’ Day. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.estherhelfgott.com&source=gmail&ust=1568689016557000&usg=AFQjCNEKr6Pc993ofI22mEFC_iervBxn2g" href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">www.estherhelfgott.com</span></a></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">From 2008 to 2015, Esther wrote the blog, <i>Witnessing Alzheimer's: A Caregiver's View</i>, for the Seattle P.I., her best example of writing to heal. Her most recent poem appears in <i>Strange Fruit: Poems on the Death Penalty</i>, Sarah Zale and Terry Persun, eds.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "roboto condensed" , sans-serif; font-size: 21px;"> </span></div>
Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-42487292662443931662019-08-11T13:29:00.002-07:002019-08-11T15:15:36.031-07:00Ann Teplick & Esther Altshul Helfgott read for Word Chase @ Ravenna Third Place Books<h3 style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 1; margin: 1em 0px 0.5em; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">
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<strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><b style="background-color: transparent; text-align: justify;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">For just this one month of Aug., </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">Julene T. Weaver's</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">Word Chase Reading, </span></span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">usually held at Cafe Racer, </span></span><span style="font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">will be at Ravenna Books </span></span></b></span></strong></h3>
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<strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Josefin Sans"; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">with Bryan Lineberry on Saxophone</span></strong> </span><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #274e13; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> </span></strong></h3>
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<b style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Open Mic (up to 4 min)</span></b></h3>
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<strong style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #555555; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><strong style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #555555; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Ann Teplick & </span></strong>Esther Altshul Helfgott </span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQf0-xnx_LHAoXsbQiLFDQ3fVgOq1WeGNJ4xlKzsdjaU8dcYqO7I8t2Jt45it8mrwtG412xCwy8J_Nh25C-QQuvCKTE2Co2ZvyE5AV2N2i9a23bBiB8hv_NjLdomVLh7jwOM9S/s1600/Ann+Teplick.+Photo.+September+2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; font-family: "josefin sans"; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="240" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQf0-xnx_LHAoXsbQiLFDQ3fVgOq1WeGNJ4xlKzsdjaU8dcYqO7I8t2Jt45it8mrwtG412xCwy8J_Nh25C-QQuvCKTE2Co2ZvyE5AV2N2i9a23bBiB8hv_NjLdomVLh7jwOM9S/s200/Ann+Teplick.+Photo.+September+2018.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="m_-1932089753166746464_m_532985166230752" style="background-color: white; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Ann Teplick i</span></b></a><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-size: 12pt; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 107%;">s a Seattle poet, playwright, prose writer, and
teaching artist. She writes with youth at Seattle Children’s Hospital, through
Seattle Arts and Lectures’ Writers in the Schools program; at Child Study
Treatment Center (state psychiatric hospital), through Pongo Teen Writing; and
Coyote Central. She’s received support for creative work from </span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><span style="font-style: inherit;">Artist Trust,
Seattle Office of Arts and Culture, 4Culture, and The Society of Children’s
Book Writers and Illustrators. She is a Jack Straw and Hedgebrook alumna. Her
poems have been published in </span><i>Tahoma Literary Review, Raven Chronicles, The
Louisville Review, Crab Creek Review, Hunger Mountain</i><span style="font-style: inherit;">, </span><i>4Culture’s Poetry on the
Bus,</i><span style="font-style: inherit;"> and others. She is currently working on a young-adult novel in poems about
a family that falls apart and comes together again after a suicide of one of
their own.</span></span></span><strong style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none; color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; padding: 0in;"> </span></strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b>Esther Altshul Helfgott </b>is a non-fiction writer & poet with a Ph.D. in history </span><span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">from the University of Washington. She is the editor, with Peggy Sturdivant and Katie Tynan, of the forthcoming anthology </span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So, Dear Writers…An It’s About Time Writers’ Reading Series Anthology</span></i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> (</span><span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Yakima, WA</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">: Cave Moon Press, 2019). S</span><span style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">he is the author of <i>Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer’s </i>(Cave Moon Press, 2014; <i>Dear Alzheimer’s: A Caregiver’s Diary & Poems </i>(Cave Moon Press, 2013); <i>The Homeless One: A Poem in Many Voices</i> (Seattle: Kota Press, 2000). </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Her work appears in <i>American Imago;</i> <i>Beyond Forgetting; BlackPast;</i> <i>Blue Lyre Review</i>; <i>Cirque</i>; <i>Floating Bridge Review; HistoryLink</i></span><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: start;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">;</span></i><i style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Journal of Poetry Therapy; Raven Chronicles, Ribbons</span></i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> & others. She is the founder of Seattle's <i>It's About Time Writers’ Reading Series</i>, now in its 29<sup>th</sup> year. </span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-21092455714464724512019-04-25T17:35:00.001-07:002019-04-25T17:55:17.021-07:00Spring on the Poetry Pole<span style="color: #93c47d;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ7nityV4C7wSaR3AYamdObx4ca2wQNpxjHi1S2Qdf5ias38vvO1K_zeDkLJEJ_kO1Tera7nURCa_b3XCJT399b84dfgenTh9W1_uFwGewu2ao1VyuQeSjAJCIUKs9n3KaH1z/s320/IMG-3250.jpg+-+Kelly%2527s+poetry+pole+w+spring.jpg" /></span><br />
<span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #93c47d;">Smokey-Bro:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">"We were taking a walk</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">And what did we find</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">But a poetry pole</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">With Ma's poem inside."</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SE_Unk4MCHtEovpalTAVwqy_JEMYqJ95qYOEgohnQ2sbFuNEr82C0TlK1unos1pGj3bfm0SKUWp7mgvomKiFkJc1nxx18VOplHHELPqizSH5v7OitgcFB5igbhXvz7cHpTJU/s200/IMG_1030.JPG" style="color: #669900; font-family: garamond, serif; font-size: 18.6667px;" /></span><br />
<span style="color: #669900; font-family: garamond, serif; font-size: 14pt;">Spring</span></div>
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<span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Tulips
outside my front door.<br />
Lilies in my neighbor’s yard.<br />
Pink and white rhododendrons<br />
emerging from their buds.<br />
Crocuses lined up like purple soldiers<br />
waiting for a drill.<br />
New brides yawning,<br />
stretching toward the sun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> - Esther Altshul Helfgott</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;"> from </span><i style="color: #669900; font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 10pt;">Tree Walk Book</i><span style="color: #669900; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 10pt;">, Summer 2005</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;">"Yay, Ma! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;">Woof to you."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;">Thank you <a href="https://www.facebook.com/kelly.e.sweet">Kelly E Sweet</a></span>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-20998543527910184322019-01-02T17:30:00.003-08:002020-09-20T13:00:07.197-07:00Trip to the doctor<br />
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January 1, 2019 </div>
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(copied from my journal)</div>
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One wonders:</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Has the meningioma<o:p></o:p></div>
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caused the pulling back <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>from human contact<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> the</span> dislike
of social interactions<o:p></o:p></div>
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the need to stay home<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>not go out
into society<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>not to
parties<o:p></o:p></div>
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not even the grocery store?<o:p></o:p><br />
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"The risk of meningioma can be reduced by maintaining a normal body weight, and by avoiding unnecessary dental x-rays," says Wikipedia (Not the greatest source, but interesting).</div>
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The neurosurgeon's visit did not tell me this. But let's face it, I was too immersed in the guy's good looks to remember the questions I wanted to ask .... Will I never grow too old for this kind of silliness?<br />
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He said I probably had the tumor since the year 2000. It's not cancerous but if it presses more on the lobe (which one?) my right side may start to drag: a foot, a leg, a shoulder.</div>
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(Shall I begin recording this on my blog? Will it be helpful to anyone? Will it help me stay focused on my writing, on getting as much done as I can, while I'm able?)</div>
<br />
... My right side may start to drag: a foot, a leg, a shoulder ...<br />
<br />
Surgery could be worse than leaving it alone. "Surgery can cause a stroke," he says. I'll have another MRI in September. "All we have to do is watch it for now."<br />
<br />
The doctor said nothing about dental x-rays and nothing about my weight. Nor did I know to ask him about these two possibilities. But I've had plenty of dental x-rays in the past and am due for a cleaning this month.<br />
<br />
The first thing the dentist will tell me is we have to take more x-rays and I will tell him "No thank you, just a cleaning will be fine this time." He and the technician will argue with me, no doubt. I'll let them argue but will stand firm.<br />
<br />
The last time I was in the dentist's chair and mentioned that my tooth hurt, he took x-rays and said I needed a root canal. (I had a root canal on the tooth next door to that one already). I go get the root canal - another out-of-pocket $1000+ - and my tooth is still hurting.<br />
<br />
But I will not get anymore x-rays and will live with the annoyance. As for weight gain - I will do my best not to eat the raspberry-filled sugar donuts my daughter just brought me, along with those beautiful flowers.<br />
<br />
Should I start blogging again? At least I wouldn't be hiding from myself. Why does "being seen" mean doing something with the self? And not being seen, not doing anything with the self?<br />
<br />
I like not being public, not expanding on who I am and isn't that what writing outside the self does? But if you're a writer you have to write and share what you've written? I have six file cabinets filled with my writings. Should I throw them out? What to do with forty-five years of journals?<br />
<br />
Does being public change the self?<br />
How to keep the self intact when interacting with others?<br />
How to remember oneself when in a public space?<br />
<br />
I'm reading Saadi Youssef.<br />
<br />
<img height="200" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=e1209216d7&attid=0.1.1&permmsgid=msg-f:1621597775762139325&th=16811295e0dda8bd&view=fimg&sz=s0-l75-ft&attbid=ANGjdJ-Qq9gkJfxE_dukYWSob4g9q_pPSg_mjl0OnnOw7jHAsQxkO1NbSa2lyo2SjjwzBn4GQ11PZq_1dyDxGRNN3_iWaul6wNKEHZhNBvuTOvsx5TpNzEdKkYaV2PI&disp=emb" width="124" /><br />
<br />
"As for me, I say: I have no actual life outside poetry."<br />
(Saadi Youssef, <i>Nostalgia, My Enemy</i>, p. 4)<br />
<br />
Did I crawl back into myself after the Alzheimer books? I didn't like being so public, writing and talking about Abe without him here... without his telling of his own story ... using his material ...<br />
<br />
Yet, I seem to be coming out of my "blues," if that's what's been happening for the last few years. Or, maybe it's the brain tumor. Who knows. Either way, I have to live with it and work around it.<br />
<br />
Going to Jackie's now. She's painting a wall and wants my opinion: Silver or champagne? I'm going for the warmer shade, champagne.<br />
<br />
Happy New Year, with thanks to poets who help me to write and remember who I am. To Ann Hursey, Loreen Lee and Trish Honig. To my grandson, Hunter, who listens to me talk while he's driving home from college; and to Smokey-Bro, who is no trouble at all, sometimes.Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-47132393019349018562018-10-13T12:48:00.000-07:002018-10-13T21:55:19.270-07:00<div style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcnex2rpMRzYmpWlRphkxdV-HbfQM2elBra99ynPc4mtSXroYAqKCnhl-ly4wLuHj-Nrwq-0wamrAtU7UVyrBXP8_6KS3TYRDdF49ZyWjIW15HomxioSSpGVWuqeXE7UhuzUH/s1600/Abe%252C+Group+Health+id.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="610" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidcnex2rpMRzYmpWlRphkxdV-HbfQM2elBra99ynPc4mtSXroYAqKCnhl-ly4wLuHj-Nrwq-0wamrAtU7UVyrBXP8_6KS3TYRDdF49ZyWjIW15HomxioSSpGVWuqeXE7UhuzUH/s200/Abe%252C+Group+Health+id.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">
Death Penalty: A Poem</span> </b><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><i> <span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">- for Abe Schweid (1928 - 2010)</span></span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">by Esther Altshul Helfgott</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">ed Bundy was walking his last walk,</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and Abe had his ear glued to the radio.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I walked passed him in a huff</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">that he cared so much about the life</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">of that killer</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">of women.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">My stomach turns remembering the news</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">of Bundy biting off women’s nipples</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">before killing them.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">n 1974, </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’m walking </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">to the parking lot</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">after school lets out. </span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">It’s dark </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and Bundy's </span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">said to be in Bellingham, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">where I’m a student at Western.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’m afraid to walk to my car.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I ask another woman </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">if she'd watch me </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and then I’d watch her. </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">But she scoffs, says:</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Bundy’s not here. </span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He won’t get you.</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span></span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">nd another woman is killed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">n</span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">d still another.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></span><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">he woman had laughed,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and I wondered how she lived</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">without the fear of </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">men</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">mutilating women:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">teenage girl bludgeoned to death in Patterson Park,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">my neighborhood, East Baltimore, 1946.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Is this a screen memory?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">’m five years old. An eleven-year-old, Marsha Brill,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">is knifed to death, July 6, 1948. I’m seven.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">This is not a screen memory. The event is captured</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">in newspapers across the country, </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">including the Baltimore Sun. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The man was executed. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #111c24; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A</span></span><span style="color: #111c24; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">n </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">eleven-year-old girl is hammered to death</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">in the basement of a tropical fish store.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Again, my neighborhood, Northwest Baltimore,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">September 29, 1969. </span><span style="color: #111c24; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Her name was Esther.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #111c24; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">This man was not executed. </span><br />
<span style="color: #111c24; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">He was white.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">H</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">ow do women grow up unafraid?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">W</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">hen Bundy is finally dead,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">January 24, 1989, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">I breathe a sigh of relief,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">go back to our bedroom.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and sit down next to Abe</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">who is crying.</span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-81118397615278857652018-08-29T16:01:00.002-07:002018-10-13T16:55:14.577-07:00Aunt Miriam Gluskin Helfgott Sax (c 1897 - 2000)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2ku7g3kGmeKAZEgYP-sQcgqjLDfaMwLk0wE6_8E2WelGa-lC4SOQlAIryB0KhdjSp7TIJ8uLME376vPGST225_-rguAZ8oPHb5-3s9O007vOde26LzwQ7GaRw2Mt7pwUAhf3/s1600/miriam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1310" data-original-width="848" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2ku7g3kGmeKAZEgYP-sQcgqjLDfaMwLk0wE6_8E2WelGa-lC4SOQlAIryB0KhdjSp7TIJ8uLME376vPGST225_-rguAZ8oPHb5-3s9O007vOde26LzwQ7GaRw2Mt7pwUAhf3/s200/miriam.jpg" width="128" /></a></div>
This is my Aunt Miriam Gluskin Helfgott Sax, who came to the US in 1922 with my father, Isidore, and their parents, Jacob and Kaila Helfgott, pronounced Gelfgott in Russian. I was always afraid of Aunt Miriam. She was big and imposing and had a punitive voice, or so it seemed. She gave me a pair of green gloves once, with a matching hat beside. I was five. We were living on East Baltimore Street. When I was ten she gave me a doll. By then we were living on Pall Mall Road. The presents she gave me didn't make up for my fear of her. I didn't like to hear her voice, though I craved it. I wished she would have put her arm around me, just once, to take the fear away. But look how pretty she was when she came to this country, how sweet her face. I wish I could have touched her face then. I would have liked her touch rather than her presents, though I liked them too. I wonder if living as an immigrant in the United States took her sweetness away. I know it took my father's, though he tried; and maybe she did too.Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-2732959182317172652018-08-28T22:47:00.000-07:002018-08-28T22:50:03.389-07:00Cirque:A Literary Journal for the North Pacific Rim Vol. 9, No. 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wrote the poem "Marriage," which appears below, and in this issue of Cirque, years ago. I found it in a pile of work stacked in one of my cubbie holes. It was written when Abe was still home, already diagnosed with Alzheimer's I think, but still functioning relatively okay. He didn't go into a facility until 2006 so I must have written this in the early 2000's when we were both still hoping he would get better. That was such a long time ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. I especially liked the kiss at the end of the poem. I will look for more of these stashed-away jottings, and thank </span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cirque</i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> for publishing this one.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">Marriage</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">She has been taking him</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify;">to doctors</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">every day for a month</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">and once this last week</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">he hollered at her.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He was tired too</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">and was sorry afterwards.</span></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When they came home</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">she went to bed</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">and didn’t get up for hours.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When she did,</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">he was in the kitchen</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">making dinner.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He turned to look at her.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">She smiled and said:</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I’m better now.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He put Mozart’s</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Divertimento 563</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">into the CD slot.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">They sat down</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">together</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">and ate dinner,</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">but first</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">he kissed her.</span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> -Esther Altshul Helfgott</span></div>
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<br />Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-7279570853986479922017-09-22T12:56:00.000-07:002017-09-22T14:29:00.354-07:00On Diary Writing and Writing Projects<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white;">I've been going through my diaries to find my jot-downs for my book on psychoanalysis but found this from </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">May 30, 2016 </span><span style="background-color: white;">and, of course, have gotten sidetracked. It wasn't as neat as it is here - just diary scribbling - so I had to drop my "project" - what I came to the diaries for - to work on it. How could I put this aside? Now for the "major project," which will take me to my diaries again.... and so it goes ... </span><br />
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<b style="background-color: transparent; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif;">Annie</span></b><b style="background-color: transparent; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"></span></b><b style="background-color: transparent; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif;"> at the Park</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span> - for Heather, Jonathan and Sue<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">She closes her eyes, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">tilts back her head -<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">and feels a slight breeze<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">loving her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">This child,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">a mere three years old - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">stops in the middle <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">of her busy life<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">to appreciate the wisdom <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">she was born with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">She is like a butterfly<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">stopping for a peak - at<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">the rest of her day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "garamond" , serif;">- Esther Altshul Helfgott</span></div>
Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-44664992271903430822017-07-11T18:31:00.000-07:002017-07-11T18:53:34.851-07:00Emma at Eleven<br />
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Emma's been watching me read<br />
and write in the gazebo<br />
since she was three months old.<br />
<br />
Now she's eleven,<br />
sitting on that same perch,<br />
still watching me.<br />
<br />
I love her paws and those ears,<br />
always in the perked-up position.<br />
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If she hears a sound that doesn't belong here, she's up and running; and that sweet little girl turns into a creature you don't want to mess with.<br />
<br />
But when people she knows stop by,<br />
and she recognizes their smells<br />
and their body energy isn't creepy,<br />
she kisses them all over.<br />
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-22223821427420202112017-07-06T19:42:00.001-07:002017-07-06T19:42:19.710-07:00Words From the Cafe: an anthology<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqFA1i9r6E8QD2lSwvmx9uPo50F1X9uH_nRhyphenhyphenVFlslz2NhCyebB9MrkNeuZSyOYlIJjmfcFH2c__VLsW3s8fjsDgE-33N00Idz-x3vXC8YoxMmtEZP_jfKTMGXYJY-aHzykKu/s1600/41VsFSpqJTL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg+-+words+cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqFA1i9r6E8QD2lSwvmx9uPo50F1X9uH_nRhyphenhyphenVFlslz2NhCyebB9MrkNeuZSyOYlIJjmfcFH2c__VLsW3s8fjsDgE-33N00Idz-x3vXC8YoxMmtEZP_jfKTMGXYJY-aHzykKu/s320/41VsFSpqJTL._SX331_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg+-+words+cafe.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<i>Words From the Cafe: an anthology</i> edited and introduced by Seattle writer <a href="http://www.jackstraw.org/programs/writers/WritersForum/05/writers/anna.html">Anna Balint</a> and published by Phoebe Bosche's <a href="http://www.ravenchronicles.org/home/">Raven Chronicles </a>Press (2016) is a book about community; and if there is anything a writer needs it is community.<br />
<br />
The contributors to this publication write within a group called the Safe Place Writing Circle; it's housed at the <a href="https://recoverycafe.org/donate/standing-gap-campaign/">Recovery Cafe</a> in downtown Seattle. Seattle Times columnist Nicole Brodeur: "<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">The Recovery Café is a community, built from the heart of a
woman named Killian Noe.</span><br />
<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">"For 10 years Noe....has been the center of this place, which
serves those battling drug and alcohol addiction. She greets, she listens, she
hugs, she shares, she remembers every name. And she believes in people who have
all but stopped believing in themselves."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif;"><span style="font-size: 19.3333px;">The <a href="https://recoverycafe.org/">Recovery cafe </a>is a true community center. In addition to coffee and food, it offers a variety of classes, including </span></span><span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">meditation, yoga, dance and résumé writing. It helps people find housing. It helps them recover from addictions. </span><span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">“What I see in every person who walks through this door is someone who has suffered with not just one trauma, but one after another and another,” said founding director, Noe, author of <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byline_sr_book_1?ie=UTF8&text=NOE+K+KILLIAN&search-alias=books&field-author=NOE+K+KILLIAN&sort=relevancerank">Finding Our Way Home: Addictions and Divine Love</a>. [Seattle Times, September 7, 2014]</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;"><br /></span><span style="color: #231f20; font-family: , serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">Enter <a href="http://jackstraw.org/blog/?p=50">Anna </a></span><a href="http://jackstraw.org/blog/?p=50">Balint</a>, writing teacher extraordinaire. With help from Jack Straw Productions, 4Culture and others, Balint has brought together men and women who might otherwise not have had the opportunity to put pen to paper, to tell their stories--for their own benefit, the class's (they share what they write) and,not the least,those of the reading public who are interested in learning how to pull a writing class together and who value voices of our neighbors in recovery.<br />
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Esmeralda Hernandez, one of twenty-two contributors to the anthology: "If you watch butterflies, you will see they only interact in small, short moments of safety."<br />
<br />
Balint provides a safe environment in her Friday afternoon classes, as measured by the returning participants - those who show up every week, as well as those who drop in occasionally. Anonymous: "You reached into my dark isolation and urged me out with writing." (from the "Introduction").<br />
<br />
For the book's epigraph, Balint calls forth words of poet Taha Muhammad Ali:<br />
<br />
<i>... it has taken me</i><br />
<i>all of sixty years</i><br />
<i>to understand</i><br />
<i>that water is the finest drink,</i><br />
<i>and bread the most delicious food,</i><br />
<i>and that art is worthless</i><br />
<i>unless it plants</i><br />
<i>a measure of splendor in people's hearts.</i><br />
<br />
Developing a writing class is an art, especially if it develops into a community of writers from different backgrounds, writers who share life stories regardless of where they used to live or where they live right now. Moreover, once one writing group forms, its good will spills over into the larger community - the city - where seeds for fairness and justice are planted and may even be realized.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I share my story, you share your story.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>They're not the same story,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>but with our stories</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>we give each other kindness.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
- Tamar</div>
<br />Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-76633382132635878652017-07-04T13:57:00.000-07:002017-07-09T13:26:23.113-07:00 Fireworks, Springhill Avenue, Baltimore, Md. circa 1953<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">I was twelve and, with the other
neighborhood kids, I sat on top of the hill across from “T.A.,” the Talmudical
Academy, where the religious boys went to school. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I was with the seculars, the
public school kids: Alan, Beverly, Carl, my best friend Marlyn, and I don’t remember who else. Maybe
my little sister. My brother was uptown. Or maybe he was at Towanda,
the playground with the cigarettes and baseball field, where the 7</span><sup>th</sup><span style="font-size: 14pt;">
grader, Malcolm, set himself on fire because he was afraid to show his “Papa’s All”
father his poor grades. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">My father, from Belarus,
called us his American children and though watching fireworks was an American activity,
I think I felt more immigrant than American-born. We didn’t know about
<a href="http://www.baicmuseum.org/">indigenous peoples</a>, didn’t know to speak a tribal name. This was a Jewish
neighborhood, and in Baltimore every sect had its own alcove. Nancy Pelosi - her
father was Mayor Thomas D’Alessandro - lived downtown in Little Italy. She was just a
year and a half older than me, but we wouldn’t have known each other anyway. I
being Jewish and she being Italian. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">The only time I went to
Little Italy was a few years later, when on a date, we all went out for Italian
food. I don’t know if Nancy D’Alessandro Pelosi ever came to my neighborhood. Maybe
if she wanted to try Jewish food and sought out a delicatessen. I know I’m stereotyping,
but that’s the way it was then; at least, that’s the way I remember it. Poles
here, Irish Catholics there. The only time I had contact with <a href="http://explorebaltimore.org/the-baltimore-experience/legacy/baltimores-black-history">Blacks</a>, before the schools were integrated, was when I took the #5 bus downtown through Pennsylvania Avenue. White Christians lived in
Roland Park, where Jews and Blacks were not allowed. Adrienne Rich's family lived there. They passed, and she was in her twenties before she found out she was Jewish. (Read her <i><a href="http://www.public.asu.edu/~hiroshi/eng101/documents/rich.pdf">Split at the Root</a></i>). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Anyway, watching fireworks in
Northwest Baltimore was a strange kind of fun then. The flourishes and colors weren’t
particularly exciting, but sitting on a hill (and not in a synagogue) with
members of my tribe was. Watching those fireworks on that hill gave me a sense
of belonging. They don’t do that for me now. My mother didn’t get excited about
them either. While I was outside with the neighborhood kids, she was home sewing.
My father? He was out somewhere, probably playing pinochle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve lived in Seattle since
1976; the Pacific Northwest since 1970. When the fireworks start my dog sits in
a corner shaking. I sit with her. Neither one of us appreciates what some call
a celebration. Especially in this age of Trump, I see nothing to celebrate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-85800239850497238582016-08-29T17:43:00.002-07:002016-08-29T17:43:27.659-07:00my email has changed to eahelfgott@gmail.com<br />
<br />Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-65610267706085054972016-04-07T19:37:00.000-07:002016-04-07T19:39:23.454-07:00<h2 class="date-header" style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.884px; font-stretch: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2em; line-height: 1.4em; margin: 1.5em 0px 0.5em; text-transform: uppercase;">
On Bernie and the jews <span style="font-weight: normal;">- I am re-publishing (see below) a blog I wrote two years ago because I have recently become Facebook friends with a woman i knew in junior high school. she will not vote for bernie sanders because she's afraid he is not a friend to israel. i think she's wrong, in the same way my cousin sharon was wrong when she referred to me as an "israel hater." that is far from the truth and i'm sorry she feels that way. </span></h2>
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hate begets hate<span style="font-weight: normal;"> and when i hear another sister jew say she doesn't care about arab mothers because their sons killed her love one, i am brokenhearted. the only antidote to hate is kindness, generosity and love, which doesn't mean you let someone beat you up or murder; it does mean you sit down with antagonists and mediate between them.</span></h2>
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i thought i would not write on this subject again<span style="font-weight: normal;"> - i've been busy writing a biography - but this is my immediate history and i must embrace it, not run away from it, as maybe I have been doing.my girlhood classmate is passionate about Israel.i'm passionate about human beings and other creatures,my dog, for instance. </span></h2>
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i'm passionate about bernie sanders<span style="font-weight: normal;"> because he has the courage to bring commitment and hope to young people the world over. i wish more of us older folks would listen to him.I'm convinced he can help solve huge problems,including those among all my people in the Middle East, the man gives me hope. he helps me get out of bed in the morning. he helps me dream of peace</span></h2>
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Esther</div>
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SUNDAY, JUNE 22, 2014</h2>
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From Jew to Jew: Dear Sharon</h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">This is my response to your article, “<a href="http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/we-are-here-to-stay/" style="color: #996699; text-decoration: none;">We are here to stay,” in <i>The Times of Israel</i>,</a> June 22, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">2014:</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">I wrote to you privately – cousin to cousin - not expecting my words to be printed in an online publication or anywhere else; but since you chose to publish them, I take this opportunity to stand by my words and to explain those that I did not clarify well enough.If you choose to use these words in print, my name should follow. I will not hide from them.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I did not say that I was an atheist (though many respectable people are). Rather, I do not presume to know whether God exists or if the idea of God was created by human beings or if God Himself/Herself chose to inculcate that idea within us. I certainly do not presume to know what God or G-d promises to the Jewish people anymore than I know what God might promise to any other people. As far as I am concerned we of the human race are all one people and any “promise” God might make to one people I have no doubt that His or Her goodness would extend that promise to all people.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">When Eyal, Gilad and Naftali were kidnapped I was devastated – as you were -- devastated that this should happen and in my family’s – your family’s - neighborhood. I felt as if those boys were my children, as much as you felt they were yours. Unlike you, I do not believe that prayer will bring those boys back to us. Good will and peace will bring them home. But Netanyahu and others seem bent on war and this is where I must clarify my words. I said “The whole world is looking for peace.” Here I was wrong. I do not believe that some like Netanyahu and Cheney, for instance, look for peace; rather, they seem to enjoy the fight. I do not.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You write: "Perhaps those Jews in the US who do not believe in G-d and his promises to the Jewish people should not try to help us so much. Those who bless Israel will be blessed.” Sharon, I am a secular Ashkenazi Jew, just as much a Jew as you are in your religiosity. My mother and your husband’s father - sister and brother - were just as Jewish in their secular thinking as you are in your religious thinking. Your late father-in-law, my <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2011/09/29/pantoum-for-uncle-izzy/" style="color: #996699; text-decoration: none;">Uncle Izzy</a>, would be as appalled by what is happening between Israelis and Palestinians as my mother, <a href="http://annahelfgott.homestead.com/" style="color: #996699; text-decoration: none;">Anna</a>, was. I do not accept your telling me not to “try to help us so much.” Everyone must try, each in his or her own way. Jew and non-Jew alike.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I am not a <i>shul</i>-goer, though I have tried that route-- to my leftist's mother’s surprise. What I see happening in American <i>shuls</i> and Temples, regardless of denomination, is an attempt to find identity through the state of Israel and the Law of Return. I do not feel that I have the right to make <i>aliyah</i> when I am not escaping prejudice. This is certainly not to say that there is no antisemitism here; there is, and in Europe and elsewhere. But the kidnapping had to do with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, not antisemitism; w</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">e are not in the midst of a Nazi Holocaust. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">My homeland is North America. I do not feel I have the right to usurp land that I do not need out of fear that there will be another Holocaust or because God “promised” me the land. To my mind, that is an absurd notion used to maintain power, not peoplehood. Human beings wrote the Torah. You are using a religious, i.e., fictitious dictum, to gratify your needs and fantasies about what our world should look like. And it is our world, all of ours. We must negotiate on all sides to make it work for all of us. The best thing about Judaism - and it is mine whether I am religious or not - is<i>chesed</i>/kindness. I do not see <i>chesed</i> coming from you toward the Palestinians any more than I see it coming from them toward you.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You write: “Hamas terrorists have not shown even one photo of Eyal, Gilad and Naftali.” Has Israel shown photos of all the children the IDF has killed? I want Eyal, Gilad and Naftali home and well. I also do not want other children or you and the rest of my family in Israel to be so cavalier as to think you can go anywhere you want, as if there is no danger, as if you own all the land.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You may not think this letter comes with love but I assure you it does. If I did not love you, your husband and his sister - my first cousins - and the rest, I would not be so upset. I loved your husband's mother, my Aunt Ruth, all the while I knew how religious she was and what her attitudes were. Uncle Izzy loved her too, and that is why their children went to Hebrew school. It was not just because of Ruth; Uncle Izzy went along with it, just as everyone in the family did - Orthodox, leftist, secular - because we loved Ruth and still do, her memory. We also love a lot of other people and want them all to live in safety. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Sometimes people who live far from the problem can see more than those who live closest. You will not shut me out of the discussion; in fact, you have brought my Jewish voice to the fore when I did not think I had one.</span><b><span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Love to you and the family,</span><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><a href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/" style="color: #996699; text-decoration: none;">Esther</a></span></i><span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-57350131384413669742015-08-25T10:14:00.002-07:002015-08-25T11:18:01.895-07:00<br />
<article class="post-11421 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-769 category-from-our-contributors category-the-working-writer author-estherhelfgott " id="post-11421" itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/BlogPosting" style="background-color: white; border-color: rgb(203, 203, 203); border-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; float: left; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 15px 0px 30px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 740px;"><header style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><h1 class="entry-title" itemprop="headline" style="border: 0px; color: #0e6f50; font-family: Arvo; font-size: 20px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: 26px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-wrap: break-word;">
<a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2015/08/25/esther-on-poetry-of-alzheimers/">Esther on Poetry of Alzheimers</a></h1>
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January 21, 2015 | <a class="url fn" href="http://writingitreal.com/author/sheila-bender" rel="author" style="border: 0px; color: #146d51; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Posts by Sheila Bender">Sheila Bender</a> and <a class="url fn" href="http://writingitreal.com/author/estherhelfgott" rel="author" style="border: 0px; color: #146d51; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Posts by Esther Helfgott">Esther Helfgott</a></div>
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</header></article>Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-50069764428553023042015-04-04T13:50:00.001-07:002015-04-04T13:50:32.792-07:00*Laurie Kolp Poetry*: April Activities and 2 FREE Poetry Books for National Poetry Month (Leave a comment to get your name in the drawing!)<a href="http://lkharris-kolp.blogspot.com/2015/03/april-activities-and-2-free-poetry.html">*Laurie Kolp Poetry*: April Activities and 2 FREE Poetry Books for National Poetry Month (Leave a comment to get your name in the drawing!)</a><br /><br />
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I'd love to read your work, Laurie!Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-3236929693405437992014-12-27T10:00:00.003-08:002014-12-27T10:25:32.503-08:00Book Review: Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer’s<u><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Note: I am trying to fix the fonts on this page.</span></u><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For a better view, visit my <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2014/12/26/book-review-listening-to-mozart-poems-of-alzheimers/">P.I. Blog </a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAtys6vJkTHoll8rzMSjmcXIelCHnm2P4YJtOKF3Z94mDZzBL63MVptDEWgqeW5vl5pelZ5Q8QOdv5UF0D6PDkpERZrcBJOT7aC7bGzXch0Bi3ZR5wIdbCEcNCM77XPPX-UXa/s1600/Mozart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAtys6vJkTHoll8rzMSjmcXIelCHnm2P4YJtOKF3Z94mDZzBL63MVptDEWgqeW5vl5pelZ5Q8QOdv5UF0D6PDkpERZrcBJOT7aC7bGzXch0Bi3ZR5wIdbCEcNCM77XPPX-UXa/s1600/Mozart.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3f312e;">Book Review:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Listening to Mozart: Poems of
Alzheimer’s</span></em>, by Esther Altshul Helfgott</span><span style="color: #3f312e;">by
Nessa McCasey, PTP, CPT, Mentor, International Academy for Poetry Therapy</span></span></div>
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<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0.1in 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 5.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">After
reading and reviewing Helfgott’s previous book,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Dear
Alzheimer’s: A Caregiver’s Diary & Poems,</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>last year, I was looking forward to
reading her new book of poems, as Esther writes with such compassion and love
through the troubles and tribulation of illness (and death). She refuses to
shrink from honesty, yet there is no malice in her honesty, even here in these
poems about grief. This book is the moving-forward steps that became Esther’s
life even as she was still looking for Abe in her community, as if her soul
wasn’t convinced that her deceased husband was truly gone from her. I consider
this anecdote: There is a story about tribesmen who were guiding an
archeological dig but suddenly stopped and refused to go further. The
archeologist didn’t understand and was unsuccessful in making the tribesmen go
any further. Then the tribesmen picked up their gear and set off once more.
When asked, they responded: “We had been moving too fast and had to wait for
our souls to catch up.” As I read the pages of poems in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Listening
to Mozart</span></em>, I felt myself calming down and experiencing the process
of grief as if I was giving my soul time to catch up to me. I certainly hope
that happened for Esther as she was writing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0.1in 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Emotional
loss in our fast-paced lives may indeed cause any of us to need time to rest or
restore ourselves. Writing as Esther did in this regular rhythm in the form of
a journal over the time of mourning her husband’s death could have become the
way for herself/her soul to catch up as she processed this major life
transition. The living must take some time to leave the dead behind us.
And some day, each of us shall also be left behind. It’s a necessary fact of
life. To offset any cruelty about that fact, we have poetry as loveliness to
sustain us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #3f312e;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The
journey I take as I read through these poems, measured out in three sections
that definitely mark a path of grief, recalls for me my own weaving in and out
of the grief process. It is good to make these marks on the page and note for
ourselves (and others) the path we have trod. The marks we make are our own
measure of our being here, alive. We all know we shall die, but the marks we
make are meaningful. Abe’s marks are in this book, as he left an imprint of
himself on Esther, through their years together, through their love.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 5.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two of my favorite poems:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I write you<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">onto the page<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">how else<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to keep you with me –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">memory fades your wrinkles<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0.1in 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I miss<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">you less<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">when I write<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; color: #3f312e; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 5.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Listening to Mozart</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3f312e;"> </span></span><span style="color: #3f312e;">is
divided into three sections, bringing a lovely rhythm to the book: Part One:
Pulse, Part Two: Breath, Part Three: Sinew. It is as if the poet is plotting
out her own way back to herself through these sections. In the first section,
Pulse, her grief is evident in nearly every poem. Abe is “there” with her
continually. The second section, Breath, begins with a reminder that Abe is
still near her: “touch my arm / you feel his” and each poem seems to remember
him but with less sadness, instead with strong memory, marking the days through
the calendar’s progression. It is in this second section that Helfgott starts
to make logical decisions to appreciate their life together, even while she has
to let it go now. She finds compensations to sustain her:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">how lucky I<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">am to have<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">this chair –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the one you used</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";">to sit in<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0.1in 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";">The
final section, Part Three: Sinew, is much more coming back to herself,
recognizing that Abe is there, but he’s now able to move more into the
background so that Helfgott may go on herself.<span style="font-size: 5.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn’t know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was having fun<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">until I saw<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Facebook<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">pictures<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of me and Emma –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">laughing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in the park<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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</div>
<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0.1in 0in; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She
notes that her heart still longs at the third anniversary of </span><br />
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Abe’s death, but
she admits to no longer wearing the mourner’s </span><br />
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">frock…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="color: #3f312e; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The
final poem in the collection reminds me that just showing up and writing is
what we all need to do. The writing will take care of itself, but we must show
up and write. Esther Altshul Helfgott has done that so well – she has shown up
and written through Alzheimer’s and now through the mourning of her husband’s
death. She has given us a gift as she did all the hard work and we get to read
it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 8.4pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="color: #3f312e;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a poetry therapist, my professional practice is to choose the
appropriate poem to use with a client. In<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em><span style="border: 1pt windowtext; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; padding: 0in;">Listening To Mozart</span></em>,
there are indeed individual poems useful for prompting conversation and
personal writing. Additionally, this entire book would be a recommendation that
I make to a client who experiences grief after long illness. Grieving is a
process that takes more time than we typically are allowed, but writing through
the process of grieving allows us to take stock more carefully of where we are
on that journey. I would encourage my client to write in Esther’s journaling
manner, a few lines each day, and see what results. Not all of us will write a
poetry book, but we might be able to help ourselves be aware of gifts that come
to us while we are grieving. Simply reading the poems in this collection
offers companionship for grief and learning about another’s journey through the
process. I found that to be the case for myself in reading this fine collection
of poems. -Nessa McCassey</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 5.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<o:p>Thanks for stopping by,</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><em><a href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/">Esther</a></em></o:p><br />
<br />
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-30083175799923684102014-12-02T14:25:00.005-08:002014-12-02T14:48:45.021-08:00"how-do-you-turn-pain-into-its-own-memorial" by Mark Strand<div class="branding-standard-full-links branding-standard-full-links-no-bloglinks" id="branding" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(133, 133, 133, 0.45098) 0px 4px 8px; background: url(http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2014/12/02/how-do-you-turn-pain-into-its-own-memorial/) rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; box-shadow: rgba(133, 133, 133, 0.45098) 0px 4px 8px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; height: 110px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 8px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 630px;">
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<span class="post-date" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Italic', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Posted on December 2, 2014</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="post-on" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px 0.5em; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">| </span><span class="post-author" style="border: 0px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Bold', Helvetica, sans-serif !important; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">By <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/author/esther_altshul_helfgott/" rel="author" style="border: 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0) !important; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Posts by Esther Altshul Helfgott">Esther Altshul Helfgott</a></span><br />
in <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2014/12/02/how-do-you-turn-pain-into-its-own-memorial/">Dear Alzheimer's: A Caregiver's View</a></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-53275617868867022102014-08-13T16:00:00.001-07:002014-09-20T09:51:23.131-07:00Writing Process Blog Tour: The Four QuestionsThanks to <a href="http://donnamiscolta.com/2014/08/05/my-writing-processblog-tour/">Donna Miscolta</a> for inviting me to join the Writing Process Blog Tour. I'm to answer four questions, then tag three more writers to continue the chain.<br />
<br />
1. <u>What are you working on?</u> I'm working on two books of poetry. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">The first, <i>Driving Home from Mother's House</i>, is about my mom, <a href="http://annahelfgott.homestead.com/">Anna Helfgott</a> (1899-1996), who was for all of my life (little did I know it) the center of
my life. Writing Mother onto the page helps me understand
the strengths and weaknesses of our relationship and how that mother-daughter bond informed the relationships I had with my father, sister and brother, not to mention my own children and grandchildren and, of course, my two marriages. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;"> I've been writing poems for this work since 1982 when I took classes from <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/heather-mchugh">Heather McHugh</a> and <a href="http://s_s_bentley.home.comcast.net/~s_s_bentley/fnb/nbworks.htm">Nelson Bentley</a>. I happened to have been in their classes because, while I was enrolled as a doctoral student in history, I needed to take a break. I thought poetry would be the best way to relax and have some fun. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">The poems</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">encompass the various stages of my emotional and intellectual development, that is, from ages four years old or so, through elementary school years, high school, young adulthood and periods of aging and aging some more. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Many of the poems have to do with my mother's political activism - her leftist and union activism in the 1930s and her involvement with the </span><a href="http://www.historylink.org/index.cfm?DisplayPage=output.cfm&File_Id=4020" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Seattle Gray Panthers in her later years</a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">. She was in practically every demonstration in Seattle until she was 90 years old, fighting for civil rights, women's rights, and most of all, a single-payer health care system. I hope to include some of Mother's poems in this collection. She was also in Nelson's classes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> <u>The second manuscript </u>concerns shadows my family lived with from the 1940s on: 1) the <a href="http://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/past-exhibitions/einstein/global-citizen/mccarthy-era">McCarthy era witch-hunts</a> and 2) a hovering but absent much older half-sister - Leah (1926 - 2010) - f</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">rom my father's first marriage whom I didn't meet until I was an adult. Then she told me "I don't want a sister." </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">She did, however, embrace my brother, </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">thereby reinforcing a class-difference and betrayal dynamic, as well as </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">a woman-hate-woman kind of sexism</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">My s</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">ister </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">Dorothy (1944- 2004) and I were not in our half-sister's obituary, </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">though our brother was.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> For me, this led to the devastating realization that Dot and I did not exist in a world that we carried with us (at least I did) since childhood and reinforced the fact that </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">my brother had an extended (and internal) family that my sister and I were never invited into. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">This</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> second manuscript is called <i>My Two Dead Sisters</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> 2)
<u>How does your work differ from others of its genre?</u> Obviously psychoanalysis informs my work, but everyone's work is
different, as it should be. There's no jello mold for writers. W</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">e all have different voices and different </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">life experiences, which we write from - or in spite of. I entwine
different writing modalities into my work, as I did with <a href="http://www.elliottbaybook.com/node/events/sep13/helfgott"><i>Dear Alzheimer's: A Caregiver's Diary & Poems</i></a> (Cave Moon Press, 2013). Poets write in a variety of ways, entwining one genre with another. My last book,
<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Listening-Mozart-Esther-Altshul-Helfgott/dp/0615980139">Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer's</a></i> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">(Cave Moon Press, 2014)</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">, I thought I'd do all in Tanka form, but something inside me
refuses to conform and I ended up playing with the form and taking it into a variety of directions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> 3)
</span><u style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">Why do you write what you do?</u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;">I write what I have to write, to figure out
what I'm thinking and feeling, to understand and to remember the past. This, so I can better understand its
relationship to the present and why the present has turned out the way it has,
to a certain extent at least. I'm psychoanalytic in my thinking and the </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">oedipal </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">drama is present in my
work, as is the emphasis on the first few years of life, as they were defined by the ethnic, class-driven and sexist nature of my environment. D</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">iary writing tells the truth of my internal experience perhaps more than anything else, and so I weave my diaries and some history - historical facts from my parents' lives and my half-sister's life - into both manuscripts, <i><a href="http://www.switched-ongutenberg.org/archive/vol1no2/hel.html">Driving Home from Mother's House </a></i>and </span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/My-Two-Dead-Sisters.html">My Two Dead Sisters</a></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> Including the <a href="http://www.psychoanalyticdiary.com/Index.html">Diary</a> within the space of poem and story helps me continue with my writing projects. I never liked compartmentalizing, separating one part of myself from another, as one needs to do when working in engineering, say, or cutting someone’s chest open to perform heart surgery, even writing a traditional biography; fortunately being a writer allows one to invent new forms, entwining pieces of one part of the self with another; so in my work I give myself permission to include diary entries into the whole of my texts. I'm trying to do this in the history text I'm writing, but it's not so easy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> 4)
<u>How does your writing process work?</u></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> As I mentioned above I write what I have to
write. When I was experiencing Alzheimer's with my husband - and it was my experience as well as his, I as the caregiver and he as the holder of
the disease - I continued keeping a diary as I have most of my life (the one
period I didn't write in a diary was during the eight years of my first marriage). So along with my Seattle P.I. blog <i><a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/">Witnessing Alzheimer's: A Caregiver's View</a>, </i></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;"><i>Dear Alzheimer's</i> was born. Both came from my </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">immediate experience, as it was happening. When Abe died, at one point I was having a hard time accessing my feelings. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't know how. So I played around with form; and Tanka helped me. With Tanka and its song-like style I was able to figure out what I wanted to say to Abe. I ended up writing love poems to him, which I hadn't known I wanted to do. That's how <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Listening-Mozart-Esther-Altshul-Helfgott/dp/0615980139/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398109613&sr=1-1">Listening to Mozart: Poems of Alzheimer's</a></i> came to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> I'll end with this: For years, I've been working on a biography of the Viennese-born Seattle child psychoanalyst, <a href="http://www.edithbuxbaum.com/">Edith Buxbaum, Ph.D.</a> (1902-1982). I wish I could say I'll finish that work in the next two years, but I need to complete my poetry manuscripts first-- so I can move on with my internal life. As one extended-family member said sarcastically: <i>Watch out for those demons</i>. I do, by writing in poem and diary. But H</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">istory is what I got my Ph.D. in after all, and I don't want to leave it behind Plus, </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">I love doing historical research and writing it up, as I have for example at </span><a href="http://www.historylink.org/index.cfm?DisplayPage=output.cfm&File_Id=3674" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">HistoryLink</a><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px;">, </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">our </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 19px;">wonderful encyclopedia of Washington State.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14pt;"> When I finish <i>Driving Home from Mothers House</i> - 2015 projection date - and <i>My Two Dead Sisters </i>- 2016 projection date - I'm set on completing the <a href="http://writingedith.blogspot.com/">Buxbaum</a>
project. She was an important
figure in Seattle's women's, psychoanalytic and social work history and she deserves her say. M</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">y goal is to help her say it by 2020. I won't even be eighty yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/">www.estherhelfgott.com </a></span></div>
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<u style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, adobe-helvetica, 'Arial Narrow'; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">MY UPCOMING READINGS</u></div>
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<span class="size9 Helvetica9" style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, adobe-helvetica, 'Arial Narrow'; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; min-height: 15px;">Thurs. Aug. 28 - </span><span class="size9 Helvetica9" style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, adobe-helvetica, 'Arial Narrow'; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; min-height: 15px;"><a href="http://www.buonobuzzard.com/?page_id=20" target="_self">Couth Buzzard Books</a></span></div>
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<span class="size9 Helvetica9" style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, adobe-helvetica, 'Arial Narrow'; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; min-height: 15px;">Thurs. Sept. 11 - <a href="http://itsaboutimewriters.homestead.com/">Ballard Library</a></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, adobe-helvetica, 'Arial Narrow'; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">Sun, Nov. 9 - <a href="http://www.jfsseattle.org/services.html">Jewish Family Service</a></span></div>
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<u>I've tagged the following writers to join the Writing Process Blog Tour.</u><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"><a href="http://www.jennyneill.com/">JennyNeill </a>chases stories at the intersection of agriculture, wellness, and business
with a keen interest in sustainability. Her career has taken her through a
variety of communicator roles in corporate and non-profit work settings. She
has also worked as a sommelier, assistant travel planner, and health content
architect. Jenny lives in Seattle and loves wine, coffee, film noir, whale
watching, cheering for Sounders FC, and crashing a good dance party when traveling
abroad.</span></div>
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<a href="http://josephelerner.blogspot.com/" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">JosephE. Lerner</a> <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">I
have worked as a photographer, filmmaker, writer, editor, and small press
publisher. My poems and flash fiction have appeared in 100 Word Story, deComP
MagazinE, Gargoyle, Jet Fuel Review, Matchbook, Pif, PoetsWest, The Prose-Poem,
and elsewhere. I'm also an alumnus of the Clarion SF Writers Workshops. </span></div>
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<a href="http://sixthinline.blogspot.com.au/" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;">ElisabethHanscombe</a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt;"> is a psychologist and writer who completed her PhD in 2011 on the
topic ‘Life writing and the desire for revenge’. She publishes in the areas of autobiography,
psychoanalysis, testimony, trauma and creative non-fiction. Publications
include Meanjin, Island, Tirra Lirra, Quadrant and Griffith Review as well as
in the journals, Life Writing and Life Writing Annual: Biographical and
autobiographical studie. Her work appears in
psychotherapy journals and magazines throughout Australia and the United
States, including Stories of Complicated grief: a critical anthology edited by
Eric Miller PhD, (NASW press); Eavesdropping: The Psychotherapist in Film and
Television, (eds) Lucy Huskinson and Terrie Waddell, Guilford Press, (Routledge
2015). She is an adjunct research associate at the Swinburne Institute for
Social Research.</span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13326268.post-20421643402946541692014-06-22T20:21:00.000-07:002014-06-23T21:24:05.315-07:00From Jew to Jew: Dear Sharon<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">This
is my response to your article, “<a href="http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/we-are-here-to-stay/">We are here to stay,” in <i>The Times of Israel</i>,</a> June 22, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">2014:</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">I wrote to you privately – cousin to cousin - not expecting
my words to be printed in an online publication or anywhere else; but since you chose to publish them, I take this
opportunity to stand by my words and to explain those that I did not clarify
well enough.If you choose to use these words in print, my name should follow. I
will not hide from them.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I did not say that I was an atheist (though many respectable
people are). Rather, I do not presume to know whether God exists or if the idea
of God was created by human beings or if God Himself/Herself chose to inculcate
that idea within us. I certainly do not presume to know what God or G-d
promises to the Jewish people anymore than I know what God might promise to any
other people. As far as I am concerned we of the human race are all one people
and any “promise” God might make to one people I have no doubt that His or Her
goodness would extend that promise to all people.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">When Eyal, Gilad and Naftali were kidnapped I was devastated –
as you were -- devastated that this should happen and in my family’s – your
family’s - neighborhood. I felt as if
those boys were my children, as much as you felt they were yours. Unlike you, I
do not believe that prayer will bring those boys back to us. Good will and
peace will bring them home. But Netanyahu and others seem bent on war and this
is where I must clarify my words. I said “The whole world is looking for
peace.” Here I was wrong. I do not believe that some like Netanyahu and Cheney,
for instance, look for peace; rather, they seem to enjoy the fight. I do not.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You write: "Perhaps those Jews in the US who do not believe in
G-d and his promises to the Jewish people should not try to help us so much.
Those who bless Israel will be blessed.”
Sharon, I am a secular Ashkenazi Jew, just as much a Jew as you are in
your religiosity. My mother and your husband’s father - sister and brother - were just as Jewish in their secular thinking as you are in your
religious thinking. Your late father-in-law, my <a href="http://blog.seattlepi.com/witnessingalzheimers/2011/09/29/pantoum-for-uncle-izzy/">Uncle Izzy</a>, would be as appalled by what
is happening between Israelis and Palestinians as my mother, <a href="http://annahelfgott.homestead.com/">Anna</a>, was. I
do not accept your telling me not to “try to help us so much.” Everyone must
try, each in his or her own way. Jew and non-Jew alike.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">I am not a <i>shul</i>-goer, though I have tried that route-- to my leftist's mother’s surprise. What I see happening in American <i>shuls</i> and Temples,
regardless of denomination, is an attempt to find identity through the state of
Israel and the Law of Return. I do not feel that I have the right to make <i>aliyah</i> when I am not escaping prejudice.
This is certainly not to say that there is no antisemitism here; there is, and in Europe and elsewhere. But the kidnapping had to do with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, not antisemitism; w</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">e are not in the midst of a Nazi Holocaust. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;">My homeland is
North America. I do not feel I have the right to usurp land that I do not need
out of fear that there will be another Holocaust or because God “promised” me
the land. To my mind, that is an absurd notion used to maintain power, not
peoplehood. Human beings wrote the Torah. You are using a religious, i.e.,
fictitious dictum, to gratify your needs and fantasies about what our world
should look like. And it is our world, all of ours. We must negotiate on all
sides to make it work for all of us. The best thing about Judaism - and it is mine whether I am religious or not
- is <i>chesed</i>/kindness. I do not see <i>chesed</i> coming from you toward the
Palestinians any more than I see it coming from them toward you.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You write: “Hamas terrorists have not shown even one photo of
Eyal, Gilad and Naftali.” Has Israel shown photos of all the children the IDF
has killed? I want Eyal, Gilad and Naftali home and well. I also do not want
other children or you and the rest of my family in Israel to be so cavalier as
to think you can go anywhere you want, as if there is no danger, as if you own all the land.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">You may not think this letter comes with love but I assure
you it does. If I did not love you, your husband and his sister - my first cousins - and the rest, I would not be so
upset. I loved your husband's mother, my Aunt Ruth, all the while I knew how religious she was and
what her attitudes were. Uncle Izzy loved her too, and that is why their children went to
Hebrew school. It was not just because of Ruth; Uncle Izzy went along with it,
just as everyone in the family did - Orthodox, leftist, secular - because we loved Ruth and still do, her memory. We also
love a lot of other people and want them all to live in safety. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Sometimes
people who live far from the problem can see more than those who live closest.
You will not shut me out of the discussion; in fact, you have brought my Jewish
voice to the fore when I did not think I had one.</span><b><span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-no-proof: yes; mso-themecolor: accent2;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Love
to you and the family,</span><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><a href="http://www.estherhelfgott.com/">Esther</a></span></i><span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> </span></span></div>
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Esther Altshul Helfgotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17197997357138853342noreply@blogger.com2