Strange Sisterhood

Today's thought comes courtesy of the Mexican artist Frida Kahlo from her personal diary:

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it's true I'm here, and I'm just as strange as you.

Thanks Frida. It's nice to know we're not alone in our "strangeness" or uniqueness.

Into Honest Ground

Billy Joel once sang:

Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue.
Honesty is hardly ever heard.
And mostly what I need from you.

Living in a swing state during campaign season, like the song says, "Honesty is hardly ever heard." Between receiving robo calls from both political parties plus all of the television commercials, all I hear and see is one exaggerated campaign message after another.

I just want political candidates to be honest. Perhaps, I'm not the average American voter. The plain, honest truth can be as persuasive as a hyped-up or completely inaccurate truth.

Talking heads with their 24/7 analysis and commentary rarely factor into my voting decision making process. I seek out facts rather than fiction, and then use my best judgment to pick my candidate or pick positions on ballot initiatives.

Why can't political discourse be as simple as this moment on Iwo Jima during World War II? The Marines had an objective to advance and secure Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima and once secured, set an American flag at the top. Granted this famous moment was actually the second time the flag was placed on Mount Suribachi, but their action was simple and precise -- just place the flag in the ground.

Political ads should be as honest, simple and precise as this flag-raising. But, I won't hold my breath. I doubt my dream campaign season will be happening any time soon.

Sunrise for Wellness

Happy National Wellness Week! Celebrated every third week of September, SAMHSA's National Wellness Week encourages individuals, families, and communities across the country to improve their health behaviors, while also exploring their talents, skills, interests, social connections, and environment to incorporate other dimensions of wellness.

Today, people around the country are contributing personal art and written compositions for the Artistic Expression for Wellness activity to express their own journey to wellness and the hope and promise of recovery.

Photography has always been a therapeutic and healing activity for me. Its pursuit forces me outdoors to explore new places and experiences. Looking through my camera's viewfinder offers new perspectives and another method to "get out of my own head" and see situations and the world differently. The photographic process calms and centers me. It is a great outlet during very stressful periods in my life.

Today, in honor of National Wellness Week, I traveled to the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington and photographed Wednesday's sunrise. In spite of cloudy skies and surprisingly cold temperatures, I captured some really picturesque moments as the sun rose behind the monument. Today's image could almost be mistaken for a painting.

Being at the memorial at sunrise with my camera was a healthy, creative way to start my day. We should all take steps each day to consider all of our dimensions of health and work harder to live healthier, well lives. If we do, we can live longer and happier.

The Lesson of the Leaning Tree

If the Marine Corps War Memorial, or Iwo Jima, was like the bar on the TV show, "Cheers," I think that I might be Norm.[cue for you to shout, "Crystal!"] Even though I enjoy visiting and exploring new places, there a special joy that results from returning to a familiar place and uncovering new treasures. The Iwo Jima Memorial and Arlington National Cemetery are both places on that list for me. Each visit, I see or experience something that I may have missed during earlier explorations.

The Marine Corps War Memorial, which is circular in design, is surrounded by large, open, grassy fields. On the Fourth of July holiday, the lawn area is covered with people waiting to see the national fireworks show on the National Mall. Bordering the grass area on the side away from the National Mall are large pine trees with a few other smaller trees sprinkled throughout the lawn. Somehow during past visits, I never saw this leaning tree.

I'm sure it has been there since my first visit and I must have missed it. Perhaps I overlooked this tree because I was trying to photograph the statue of the Iwo Jima flag-raisers, or I was focusing on capturing the spectacular view of downtown DC from the memorial. Regardless of the reason, it was only last month that the leaning tree and I met. I captured this intriguing image of the leaning tree as it was ready to burst into purple blossoms and greet spring. There is a kinship between the leaning tree and myself. Often, I feel like this tree, battered and blown by life's bad weather and at times, I also respond by bending or moving in an unplanned direction. But like this tree, in spite of these uncontrollable forces, we can still defiantly bloom and grow.

The lesson of the leaning tree is that we too must be flexible in the face of external forces, but also be resilient and blossom in spite of adversity.

Raising the Flag

Recently, the last surviving American World War I veteran passed away at the age of 110. Frank Buckles of West Virginia lied about his age to join the army at age 16 and served as an ambulance driver in WWI with nearly 5 million American service members in 1917 and 1918. As if one war experience in a lifetime was not enough, Buckles was captured by the Japanese as a civilian in the Philippines during World War II.

Whenever I look upon military memorials like the Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington, I pause and think of Buckles and all our war veterans and thank them for their service and sacrifices.

Iwo Jima in Silhouette

Sometimes, it's the small victories in life that can be the most rewarding. For example, I love photographing the Marine Corps War Memorial or Iwo Jima in Arlington, but haven't been successful at getting a good image with the American flag unfurled until last year. Either there was too much wind or no wind at all that foiled my earlier attempts. As this photograph proves, persistence combined with patience can pay off. If the flag was blowing to the right of the flag pole, it would have mimicked the famous Joe Rosenthal photograph which inspired the memorial in the first place. Hopefully during my next visit to the memorial, I'll get lucky and take that image next.

Up, Together

Another image of the U.S. Marine Corps War Memorial, otherwise known as Iwo Jima. The detail of this statue is incredible--even the knuckles on their hands are defined. Focusing on their hands working together to raise the American flag on Mount Suribachi explains why this was such a compelling image of World War II and the kinship, struggle and sacrifice of American men and women who served in the Pacific and beyond.

U.S. Marine Corps War Memorial

Several years ago, I read the book, Flags of Our Fathers, by James Bradley with Ron Powers. Bradley is the son of one of the Iwo Jima flagbearers depicted in the famous Associated Press photograph and now in this U.S. Marine Corps War Memorial in Arlington. He wrote the book to profile his father and the other men who joined him on Mount Suribachi that day. After reading about their experiences before, during and after WWII, I never look at this monument without crying. Instead of seeing six men raising a flag, I see Franklin, Harlon, Mike, John, Rene and Ira. I see the three who survived the month-long battle (the flag was raised on the fifth day of the Battle of Iwo Jima) and the three men who are buried in the island's volcanic sand. It is a beautiful, yet solemn reminder of triumph and tragedy of war.