Last Thursday I went to watch a band (The Real Nasty) from Berkeley play at Rooster's Blues House, here in Oxford. The band was great. The bass player/song-writer Ryan, the drummer, Huston, and the amazing guitarist Jacob, played their hearts out.

All around me though were drunk people or people determined to get drunk. They mostly succeeded. The young girls were mostly dressed in revealing clothes and very high heels. Some of them were more casual, and two in particular literally threw themselves at the men (boys) who came anywhere near them.

I'm posting this photo here with this story because soon I will be back in Cuba, to my realization that we don't have to live dramatic and excessive lives to live full lives. There is a certain dignity of life there, perhaps due to economic conditions (what can one do but read and create art if one has no money?), more likely due to the quality of education provided in all schools, at all levels of learning.

In Cuba, I become a student of all the teachers of a dignified and meaningful life. I find my art collecting and photography take me to new adventures, to homes and towns, down roads to new experiences that gradually change my mind about what to value.

I am lucky that these values are already here with me, but it is easy to forget when one is away. This morning, I looked out the bedroom window, a small and high window to the back yard. There I saw a tree, a clothesline, our yet to be turned over garden, all lit by the sun. I was grateful and joyful. Perhaps that memory of Cuba and the simple appreciation of quiet conversations and art and the appreciation of other people no matter what their circumstance is residing and thriving. I hope that is the case. Whether it is that or the knowledge that I will be back there soon, it doesn't matter, the thing that matters is that we all realize that the destructive nature of large and drunk living can also be a lesson on how to live as well as how not to live.
Milly