creating a world of hope

Creating a World of Hope

2013

Professors Helen Paris and Leslie Hill from Stanford’s Department of Theatre & Performance Studies and graduate student Ryan Tacata were honored and excited to have the chance to work closely for ten weeks with the women of Hope House this win-ter on writing and performing original works. Everyone in the group had a hand in creating original material drawn from their own experiences and imaginations. We worked together in the classroom, in the living room and in the garage, on different themes each week, such as ‘inheritance’, ‘dreams’, ‘desires’ and ‘utopias’ exploring different ways of creating elements of cre-ative writing and/or live performance. At the outset we asked the women to allow themselves to be curious and open to their creativity and they responded boldly, and beautifully, forming

and performing ideas on the page and on the stage.

Introduction Letter

Our work culminated in a live performance at Hope House on March 14 2013 featuring solos, dialogues, poems, songs and choreogra-phy by the group as well as the publication of this booklet of some of the women’s writing. All of our work together was linked by think-ing about where we come from and where we are going – the experiences we bring with us and the destinations we dream of.

Thank you to Pamela, Olga, Alicia, Rachel, Nancy, Jada, Nicki, Theresa, Isabellita, Ju-lie, Victoria, Sandy, Ellen, Terri, Barbara and Dawn for your curiosity and creativity – you have inspired and delighted us with your writ-ing and your performances and taught us new things about ourselves and the nature of hope.

C R E AT I N G A W O R L D O F H O P E

Table of ContentsWhere do you come from?

Where are you going?

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Inheritance Tracks

11

‘I Have a Dream’

17

Portraits

21

Desire

27

Utopia

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Where do you come from? Where are you going?

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C H A P T E R

Six in the morning, stepping out of my warm, comfy, soft bed onto the fluffy carpet and chilling air. I’m waking up with the loud annoying alarm clock going off in my ear. Dreading the cold air touching my skin when I get out of my warm, comfy couch.

I love the sound of the train. It wakes me in the morning. I roll up my sleeping blanket. I am heading over the river and through the woods to what I can now see as a very long line of people and what was once a beautiful tree, now a large stump, to sit upon as I eat my meal.

I am on my way to the world I see, and the path is the utmost sumptu-ous brown velvet and your feet melt deeper into the folds the further you walk, it’s almost like walking on warm butter. The sky is the most amazing shades of blue and green with white wispy clouds that smell like cotton candy. There air smells like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and a gentle warm breeze caresses your skin with the feeling of the softest silk.

I smell a smell I can’t describe. I hear the sound of birds flying through the trees. I hear water flowing from the other side of where I’m standing. Right beside me is a bug crawling from a tree. I feel fresh by walking through. I feel free by being there. It feels moist as I go deeper into the woods. It feels cold but yet so good. I feel lonely but I know I’m not alone.

Warm tan sand. I feel the sand is soft as it flows through my toes as I walk. There are benches with beautiful detailed wood and with painted red flowers. As I sit and lookup, I see beautiful white clouds

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W H E R E D O Y O U C O M E F R O M ? W H E R E A R E Y O U G O I N G ?

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in the blue sky. The sound of the waves sounds so sweet. I see doves and sparrows flying around in the skies, the sun is shinning so bright, the weather is warm and I believe the city could be Pensacola, Florida. Big beautiful orange trees.

There’s black and white sand. You haven’t seen a sunset like Jamaica’s; it is the most beautiful sunset you’re ever going to see, especially while sitting on the beach, while catching the scrumptious warm breeze.

I know I’m in the right place. In this place it’s easy to breathe and it’s serene. My mind becomes settled and my body knows it is in a healthy place, full of big branches that are full of life and little bitty flowers. This place has humming birds too.

Then we went on the Indiana Jones ride. We all remembered the first time we’d gone on it, when the girls were five years old. They’d made the height requirement only by wearing their boots and standing very straight which made them about an inch and a half taller. Then the ride malfunctioned and we got stuck watching a boulder almost crash into us 50 times, which kind of took the element of surprise out of it.

The world of the Minis consists of buildings both big and tall as well as short and boxy. There are thousands of people all inside this world. Here, everyone is busy running around, working shopping, and living. Inside this everyday world of chaos is one Mini who has big dreams. Her dreams consist of getting out of the everyday life of a Mini. The hustle and bustle an average Mini must live in world where there is peace and quiet; a world where the sky is blue with puffy white clouds

spread across the rolling hills of green; where instead of waking up to the smell of car exhaust fumes, the sounds of horns flaring, people screaming and being surrounded by buildings and hundreds of thou-sands of other Minis, there would be a world that for one day this Mini would be all alone and free to spin in circles and dance in the sunlight.

After I move, my lifestyle will slow down enough to savor pleasures including drawing; bicycling with my 17 year old granddaughter Lily; gardening with my daughter in-law Ame; jogging with my dark gray mini schnauzer, Charm; working out with my son Adrian; and hiking with the family, who are all outdoor people. There will be gatherings around the fire pit as well as breaking bread around the dining table.

I would start by living in a huge gothic house, surrounded by an iron gate with wisteria, dripping and crawling up the walls of the coal blue house with large picture windows and weeping willows touch-ing the ground. There are flower beds and an outdoor sitting area for tea and morning meals, with the ghosts of legend and family mem-bers. The smell is sweet and warm. I visit the local religious cults who practice Voodoo, magic, and spells.

To be rich, dressed in marvelous velvet and satin dress and to be the only woman in pants - just for fun. To romance always and fly through the night.

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W H E R E D O Y O U C O M E F R O M ? W H E R E A R E Y O U G O I N G ?

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C H A P T E R

Inheritance Tracks

“Killing Me Softly” by Robert Flack

When I’m basking in the music, I feel good. The music wrapped around me from the top of my head to the bottom of my heart and then it curled around my toes and I could feel the music notes in every inch of my body and words could not even express the way the music made me feel. This music took over and it made me want to create my own music. My notes were:

“Let the fragrance of a sweet smelling savior fill the temple.

Destroy the yoke of doubt so your presence fills this house.”

But now I hear it and it reminds me of how goofy my boyfriend is and how he loves to make me laugh. It kind of fits both of our person-alities because we’re goofy people and enjoy putting smiles on other people’s faces.

The song is about a young IRA sol-dier who was convicted of crimes against the crown during the trou-bles. His true love Mary is miss-

ing him, but it’s for the cause, so she understands. Some causes are worth dying for and freedom is one of them.

“I love me so, I love me soI take me to the picture show

I wrap my arms around my waistWhen I get too fresh, I slap my

face. I’m a nut, I’m a nut.”

My Mother sang this song while she happily cleaned the house. I was too young to understand or know what the words “too fresh” meant, al-though I figured it had to be bad if it resulted in face slapping. I did know what “I’m a nut” meant and as a child I was alarmed that my Mother was belittling herself by calling herself ‘a nut’ and continued being so cheerful.

Samba Pa Ti is a song, that whenev-er I hear it, where ever I hear it, I fall back into very happy times. For in-stance: I’m in the kitchen. “Mmm!!!” that smells good, Mami!!” my daughter proclaims as she comes in and grabs a plate. “No!” I exclaim, “wait, it’s not ready!” She saunters over to the small stereo I keep in

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I N H E R I TA N C E T R A C K S

the kitchen and turns up the music. Samba Pa Ti is playing. She grabs me and starts dancing and laughing. “You know Mami, when I come in the house,” she says, “I know all is right today, with the smell of your cooking, and the music playing!!” I laugh with her. She soon sneaks behind me and grabs the large stir-ring spoon from the cast iron pan, and into the aroos con gandules: yel-low rice and pigeon peas. The pernil is in the oven. The aroma of roast pork and saffron spice is in the air. “Nea!!” I exclaim, “please wait.” I smile now, as she sits, now eating a small portion on a small plate, so as not to ruin her dinner. I chuckle, as she start to tell me the stories of her day. This is what she calls waiting for dinner. I smile and think Samba Pa Ti and the smell of saffron rice.

“Good Day” by Nappy Roots

How going around and not worry-ing about who thinks what about you but just having fun is amazing to me. That’s why I inherited the song. It relieves a healthy weight off any heartache I’m having in my life. Songs all around are a healthy way to release any emotion but I think it’s so wonderful when a song can lift the spirits of anyone who takes the time to listen. With this particu-lar song I feel it doesn’t matter what age, creed, or sex you are, this song will bring joy and laughter and boo-ty shaking in your life.

I grew up in the 70’s where the SF Bay Area was King of Music. My memories were of Golden Gate


Park, free music at the Speedway Meadows, Fillmore West, Hippie Music, Soul Music, Rock and Roll, R + B. Musicians were everywhere: at the San Francisco Beach and the Marina on weekends, playing con-gas and drinking red wine, and hav-ing a great time. I remember dance clubs downtown, the nightclubs, and the wonderful nightlife. Packed like sardines. Smoke filled meat markets we called them.

“A Song for Mama” by Boys II Men

I picked this song because my moth-er is a very beautiful, caring and lov-ing person. She is the queen of my heart, she is the food for my soul. No one can take the place of her. A mother’s love is so important ‘cause you only have one mother. No mat-ter what, she was there. Mama, you know I love you.

A song that I inherited from my childhood is “O Danny Boy”. My family is Irish; all four of my grand-parents immigrated to America from Ireland in their late teens and early twenties. One of my grandfathers was very musical; he played the

bagpipes and the accordion. This is just one of many songs I remem-ber hearing. My youngest brother’s name is Danny, so it also reminds me of him. My memories of Irish music are both fond and some less-so. When I was a teenager, my Dad would play the ‘Irish Hour’ at 7 a.m. on Sunday mornings. I was much more interested in sleeping and ap-preciated nothing about the music; it was just noise to me. When my grandpa pulled out his accordion and played a jig, the girls were ex-pected to dance. My only thoughts were - why do we have to be so Irish? And why don’t the boys have to take Irish dancing lessons? But as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate my heritage and the effort my family put into holding onto it.

Typically, a tempo of 140 beats per minute is selected. First, they begin with a simple kick and snare pat-tern. Next, they add some hi-hats and symbols to fill in the spaces. Add some modulated bass lines, and make sure to make them heavy. Then add sound effects or pads. Fi-nally, the most important part: THE DROP. This music comes from the crazy party people of Britain. It’s psychedelic to me. When I hear it, it

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I N H E R I TA N C E T R A C K S

gives me a sense of relaxation. It flips my brain upside down and it makes me feel euphoric.

“Tears in Heaven” by Eric Clapton

This song is a song my husband used to sing when he was alive, and now that he’s gone, it reminds me of him because there’s a part that goes like this: “I must be strong to carry on ‘cause I know I don’t belong here in heaven ...” That reminds me that I have to carry on without him and how strong I’m going to have to be.

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“My Girl” by the Temptations

This song was written by the Temptations. My ex-husband dedicated it to me when we were together. This song made me feel special. The song has meaning and love in it. My husband played this song all the time when we were married - even after we broke up. Every time I hear it, I think of him and it makes me feel happy. No one ever called me his girl the way he did with his love when he dedicated it to me.

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I Have a Dream

C H A P T E R

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I have a dream that one day we will all get along.I have a dream that one day I will be free from my addiction.

I have a dream that one day I will have a good man in my life.I have a dream I will live happily ever after.I have a dream I will find a cure for diabetes.I have a dream I will live in my own home.

I have a dream I will take a flight to Jamaica Island.I have a dream I will accomplish all of my goals.

I have a dream I will meet this handsome, dark, chocolate, looking man with this thick strong looking body. With a loving touch and

deep, soft spoken voice. Whispering softly in my ear.

I just want to get along with no judgement just joy, care, and con-cern. I have a dream of making this happen. Maybe we’ll start this weekend, maybe next month, who knows, but I want it to happen at least one weekend before I leave.

But if I could change one thing about the world it would be for ev-erybody to re-awaken their kind, loving, nurturing, spiritual selves and change their lives around to help others.

I have a dream to be the woman I know is inside. To be the person I am capable of being. To be the mother, daughter, sister and friend I have longed, so long, to be. I have a dream that I will be proud of myself and my loved ones will be proud to know me.

If I could change something about the world ... it would be to vanish pain, suffering, and hurt completely. I would build a restart button for everyone that can’t and couldn’t help themselves.

I have a dream that one day I’ll be able to bring our sistas together. That we can break the chains of useless prejudice with youths of the next generation. That we are not what society says, with their nega-tive stigmas ...

If I could change one thing about the world, I would teach children and adolescents the things that I’m just learning now. So they’re prepared for life before they face it; they’re informed about how to deal with things.


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I H AV E A D R E A M

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But if I could change one thing about the world, I would take out all the hate, drugs, guns, and the judging of others.

I have a dream. My dream will be my reality soon. Not soon enough. Meanwhile, I long for the touch of my family embracing in a hug. My fantasy is being somewhere where I can hear the ocean moving over the rocks on the shore, the wind in my face. But what I really want to say is: I’m tired and I’m anxious. I want to hug my daughter. I want to hold her. I want to cook for my family and be home. But if I could change one thing about the world ... I would declare peace. I would remind everyone we are all human and it doesn’t matter what each one of us is, we all have a heart.

If I could change one thing about the world it would be to make it a better place for you and me. There would be no more suffering in this world, because I have a dream.

There are elephants in orange and black stripped tutus leaping into high pirouettes landing with grace and agility, as a parade of pesky penguins go by wearing top hats and tails ...

And the ghost of Johnny Cash is singing.

C R E AT I N G A W O R L D O F H O P EC R E AT I N G A W O R L D O F H O P E

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Portraits

C H A P T E R

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I’m walking down a long hallway with wooden floors that eerily echo as I go. On the walls hang my fam-ily history. I see the past in black and white photos to the more recent photos of the digital age. My sister and I used to joke about the hallway, calling it the Walk of Shame, since it boldly chronicles both the awkward adolescents of the 70’s to the big hair and slouch socks of the 80’s.

One photo in the ‘old world’ sec-tion of the gallery you see a black and white with my mother’s family. You see her grandmother and grand-father and their 14 children. As you study the photo closer you see a mother and father sitting in straight black chairs a good 2 to 3 feet apart, looking both ridged and uncomfort-able as well as incredibly unloving.

Directly behind them to the left you see the seven brothers all standing tall and stoic with dark wavy hair and dark determined eyes. You gaze to the right and you see the seven sisters stand in the same semi-circle behind their imposing father, with their long dark saucer eyes looking afraid and unhappy. All sixteen peo-ple you see in this photo look as if a steel pole was inserted into the bum and forgotten. The father and all 7 brothers are dressed in dark dresses

with tightly fitted bodices. Your eye is drawn to the cinched tiny waists only a too tightly pulled whale bon corset can create. Black buttons the size of fifty-cent pieces ascending upward toward their slender necks appearing to be slowly chocking the life out of them.

What strikes me so profoundly about this photo is how miserable everyone looks.


The redwood deck is connected to the mint green stucco home of her long-time girlfriend, who snaps the shot. She faces forward, resting only her right forearm on the clean rail. She stands facing forward, easily supported on her left leg. Casually, her right leg is crossed over the other ankle, toe down,

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P O R T R A I T S

for effect and balance. She holds her head with regal air. Her graying short cropped hair forms an attractive halo, framing her quiet blue eyes and bril-liant smile. Her typical dress ware of polyester slacks were white and as fresh as snow. They hung neatly down over her bleached white socks and sporty tennis shoes. Setting the stage for adornments is a simple gold-band-ed Timex wristwatch. I know her well enough to know there’s a hidden clean tissue tucked inside the sleeve cuff.

Family is extremely important to me. The tall black lamp extended over our cozy bed like branches from a tree. The lights are slightly dimmed, red and gold 49er’s flag stapled across the black wall. Beau-tiful smiling faces focused on the flash from the camera. Shaun, 18 months, standing by the wall dressed like a naked cowboy with a diaper. Chicken adobo cooking upstairs in the kitchen, the vinegar aroma flow-ing through the vents into the room. Spongebob Squarepants playing on the television screen while the ra-dio is softly playing oldies in the background. Grabbing a plate of grub and some Minute Maid juice is on my mind as my arm rests gen-tly over my grumbling stomach.

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Caleb comfortably sleeping in his father’s arms. Niners jersey, black Gibaud jeans, red pants and a shirt with a bow; you can see that they’re in love. Once the picture is taken, Shaun continues to jump on the bed, Caleb is asleep and I walk upstairs to get some food. It’s amazing how the quick flash of a camera can bring us together.

Her dress is lacy, short, and elegant, so Coco Chanel as as we often called her and a lace veil; very New York chic. He is holding her arm as he begins his descent, stunningly hand-some, dark and tall, in his perfectly fitted suit.


The lighting was perfectly on our fac-es (of course it would be since they were professionally taken). Although it’s just a side view of my face, my hair is pulled back into a French braid so all my features are clearly show-ing. The light sparkles in my eyes and they are popping out of the photo. My daughter and I are starring deep into each others eyes. Our mouths simulta-neously open into an “O” position and the camera clicked.

School pictures were horrible. My sister Lillie didn’t know how to comb hair; my ponytails were raggedy and they stuck everywhere. I cried all that day from embarrassment.

He took the picture with his cell phone in my back yard. I was on the phone with my auntie. Oh yeah – we both were standing up, his hair on his face is nice.

We were all in our chef uniforms with chef hats, pleated black and white pants, all white heavy chef jackets, with black non-skid shoes. There is Tony chillin’ on the stage, I think with the mic in his hand, Shan-da laughing with Brieanna swinging their legs back and forth, smiling, and Jared dancing on the side of the floor, break dancing.

At the beach. By the edge of a moun-tain are green weeds and grass, with the sun setting, is a Mustang fac-ing the beach side. The Mustang is all black with two red stripes on the side, and only the right side is show-ing. The passenger window is down, with a girl crawling in. Her legs are dangling, she’s not on her back and she’s halfway in the car. I can see her legs and a pair of black high heels.

When you look at this picture, you wouldn’t know it, but I was holding his hands so he could not suck his thumb and I was trying to make him laugh at the same time. We were just wearing our normal clothes.

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It’s X-mas time and my brother and I are kneeling on the rug. We look like we’re praying, because our hands are together. Mom and dad get the gifts as we sing Silent Night. Finally, we open them.

Blue sky – the sun is shinning on their faces. My son and my daughter, their smiles are twinkling. I feel the warmth of their smiles and I long to be with my babies, my children.

P O R T R A I T S

She looks as though a flirtatious laugh could break through at any mo-ment. She is leaning her body on the hood of a yellow Mustang, support-ing her weight with her right hand. I’ve never met this woman, and I’ve only seen this Polaroid picture twice in my life, but I will never forget it. This beautiful young woman is my biological mother.

Two little girls laughing and danc-ing through wildflowers without a care in the world. Gathering handfuls of flowers in their favorite colors. One of them choosing only flowers in shades of pink, the other in blues and purples. Each trying to outdo her sister. Excited to give gifts to their mom. They trip and stumble and gig-gle, trying to get back up while still holding each others hand.

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C H A P T E R

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Desire


Sexual desire is the most all consuming of desires. This desire is never sated, for the more it is satisfied, the more it grows. Very of-ten people are made proud by their control over their own desires, and by the force and passion with which they master them. What a strange delusion! Remember how passionately you yearned in the past for many of the things which you hate or desire now? Remem-ber how many times you lost trying to satisfy your former desires? The same thing could happen now, with the desires which excite you at present. Try to tame your present desires, calm them. Many people worry, and suffer, because they have been involved in so many bad things in their lives. In truth, though, good things often happen in spite of our wishes, and sometimes even in opposition to our wishes, and often after our excitement and suffering over unworthy things.

“Desire – Love”You are a full moon

that gives midnight its meaningand the explanation of water.

You are a valentinetattered and loved

and reread a hundred times,You are medal found in the drawer

of a once sung hero.You are honey and cinnamon

and West Indies spices,lost from the boat

that was once Marco Polo’s.You are an old soul

from an ancient place,a thousands years

and centuriesand millenniums ago.

And you have traveledall this way

Just so I could love you.

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D E S I R E

Desire is an unbearable want. It’s yearning, it’s longing. It’s a warm shock from head to toe. It’s a mouth watering sensation that some-times words can’t describe. When desire is miles away, you sud-denly feel weak in the knees. Desire is to let knowledge settle in your bones, to allow your soul to dance, to believe, to Love.

My desire is to become a licensed practical nurse when I leave here from Hope House. What I have to do is get prepped to go to college and take the entrance exam. Start from the bottom of the class and work my way up. That means starting with the basics, like English, math, maybe science classes. After that, I guess I’ll take more ad-vanced classes to get where I want to be. My desire is to graduate from a college. I don’t know which one yet. I see myself completing all of my assignments and passing all of my classes. One day, I will be wearing my black cap and gown while walking across the stage with my fellow classmates. I’ll be smiling because I’m so happy.

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My desire is to work in a hospital or doctor office to help the com-munity when they become ill. My office will smell very clean like bleach chlorine. Everything is sterilized in my office. I will be wear-ing casual clothes underneath my long white doctors coat, with my stethoscope hanging from around my neck and my expensive black and gold fine point pen in hand along with my prescription forms. Happy to be of service to my patient.

There is usually quite a scene, quite a commotion. Pam brings in pastries, cakes, cupcakes etc., and there is a mad rush like Road Rage. Maybe we can call it Doughnut Rage. What a scene. Envision: I envision eclairs, Godiva chocolates with much anticipation. I keep turning to see if someone is coming in with some sweet treats.

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D E S I R E

My Desire is for a long awaited bubble bath and for my man to lotion my body from head to toe. I am smelling good enough to eat!

Candle light dinner and all; smiling at each other across the table, with twinkles in our eyes; hearts full of desire; just waiting to break in my new place.

Desire is usually noticed when we can’t have what we want. When we can easily have it, we tend not to feel such desire for it. Choc-olate has always been one of my greatest desires. Being here has only made its prevalence more acute, because chocolate isn’t always available and its selection is very limited.

When I was growing up, there was a chocolate factory near my Mom and Dad’s house (it’s still there) and as I walked home, the aroma of chocolate floated in the breeze, following me home from school. It was my daily partner walking home from school.

When I was in high school, we walked past See’s Candy everyday. How appropriate. A detour into the shop to fortify me as I did my homework. Desire fulfilled.

Tommy: I need a new soccer ball mom. Please, I promise I’ll keep equipment neat if you buy it for me.Mom: You sound very passionate about this, but could you tell me why you need it. You already have 2 soccer balls at home.Tommy: Mom, this soccer ball is more aerodynamic than the old ones I have. Some of the other guys have them and they’ve improved

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at practice. I’m just craving it so bad.Mom: Ok, Tommy, if this is something you really want we’re going to find some extra chores for you to do at home to pay for it.

My Desire in life is to be the best person I can be. My Desire to be a spiritual person is very strong. I’ve NEVER had God in my life before now. My Desire to learn as much about God as I can is because with him, my life only gets better. And I know that when I’m doing His will and His work, my Desire for life only gets better.

As I was sitting in class, waiting for something sweet, Pam came in with doughnuts and cakes. I got up from the table and I went to the counter. I love sweets. The doughnuts smell fresh and are warm. The taste is good and the bite is smooth on my teeth. I hope we can have more sweets.

The senses are spiritual life. The complexity, beauty and wonder of cre-ation reflect on the most peaceful and serene moments of my life. I no-tice that nature was somehow involved. Mountains, Seas, Sunsets, and Woods ... they create awe. Tranquility is the peace which connects me to the larger picture of the universe.

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D E S I R E

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Utopia34

C H A P T E R

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Utopia

Dear Future Neighbor,

You’re thinking of moving to Utopia, but just aren’t sure. It sounds too good to be true; you think, there must be something they’re not telling us. Well, I was once where you are. I’d heard all the stories - of beauty, peace, and community. I too was hesitant ... and it’s true. Uto-pia isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t have the constitution for it. They’re so unhappy and dissatisfied with life that with nothing to complain about, they’re absolutely miserable. Most end up adjusting, but there have been few who have requested return.

The vast majority of us are very happy though. There’s beauty every-where. In nature, in our towns and neighborhoods, even in metropoli-tan areas. Utopia could be described as having micro-climates. There are areas that are warm and sunny, but within a short travel distance are ski slopes or misty meadows.

There are many different types of communities to life in also, depend-ing on your preference. I happen to life in a small town called Clover Valley. The architecture is our town is very quaint. I live in an Eng-lish cottage like home, surrounded by beautiful gardens. Just waking up every morning and being greeted by brilliant colors right outside my windows, with the singing of birds in the background is enough to put a smile on anyone’s face. Our town has many families, lots of children and schools. We have all the businesses in town that we routinely need and Skyline Metro, our closest mid city is only about 15 minutes away. They have everything else you’d ever need, from major financial institutions to Broadway shows. As I mentioned ear-lier, within approximately the same distance from the city are many other communities: some very grand and upscale, some quite rural and rustic. The all hold their own special appeals - there’s a place to fit everyone’s desires.

There are many career options available here - almost as many as where you are (though there are some occupations we just have no need for here). I myself keep busy helping people. My daughters are


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teenagers and fairly independent, so I have lots of free time, especially while they’re in school. I’ve always loved doing for others but in Uto-pia it’s a very appreciated and satisfying occupation. I do childcare, assist in a classroom at the local elementary school and do lots of baking. I’m always available to help out my neighbors; we’re a very united community.

I recommend that you take the “Get Acquainted” week or week end long trip. You’ll get to experience just a taste of what it’s like to live here. You can always arrange to meet with personal friends of yours who have moved here as well as the many “friends you just haven’t met yet.” I’m always glad to see potential residents visiting town.

Looking forward to seeing you!

Dear Auntie,

In my euphoria there are marsh mellow clouds and pink bubbles in the sky. There are yellow, violet, magenta, and powder blue puffs of flowers all over. They remind me of little cotton balls, happy and free. The weather is crisp, clear, and with a slightly warm daily breeze. It’s never too hot - nor is it ever cold. Everyone gets along very well. There are never any fights - nor are there any weapons. There is no such thing as rich or poor. Everyone makes the same balance. As for politics, we’re a liberal republic. We are ran by the people, for the people, but the main squad are all women. We believe that women are the greater race. Well at least I do. Days are peaceful.

U T O P I A

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Dear Niece,

I must tell you of the joy I felt when I received your letter. Just know-ing you’re safe is a relief. I read and re-read every detail of your de-scription of your euphoria you now live in. I am interested, especially interested, in what you describe as “puffs of flowers.” How wonderful. As you must remember, Central Park West is still all concrete and steel and the rain - oh, the rain - is relentless. Your new world is such a contrast to my dark, cold, oppressive world.

Life in utopia is serene. Everyone here is clean, sober, and refresh-ingly honest. Strong friendships evolve, communication galore. We leave our egos behind.

The terrain consists of soft rolling knolls. When driven swiftly, accel-erating over the tops of the mounds, they cause joyous stomach thrills. Anyone in the car erupts in gut grabbing giggles.

The vivid blue skies are abundant with crisp, fresh, clean air. The ultra wide horizon stretches my gaze.

Food gardens grow abundant harvests. Fresh fruits and vegetables are canned with loving communal efforts and stored for the lean winter months. All our needs are met.

Spirituality is top priority. Everyone excitedly lives by the 12 step principles. This brings us close, actively raising the children and car-ing for the elders.

Health is held in high regard. Because of the organic farming, rugs, mattresses, and clothes are made with chemical free materials. In uto-pia, we are absent of mental, physical and emotional illness.

We construct homes mindful of ecology. Alternative power sources in-


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clude solar panels and wind turbines to manufacture electricity. Abun-dant crystal clear water from underground springs keep the wells full. Water is heated and piped through floors, keeping us warm. Gray wa-ter is used for gardens and yard foliage.

Querido Papa,

Como Estas? Have just put my surreal-focals on and as I am gazing at the grey and cream colored unicorns gazing in the clouds I am think-ing of you. Delicious warmth as the sun shines. It is so nice that it’s impossible to get a sunburn here. So not to worry my dear Papa.

The jungle behind me is filled to the brim with those beautiful birds we enjoyed in your little Finca (ranch) in Melgar, Colombia. Nuestro paiz ma lindo. Our beautiful country.

Crystal clear waters with ripples and creating waves synchronized as they give me ever more bursts of energy.

Sasha comes by with her beautiful sarong in the kitchen. She loves to be in, preparing the most scrumptious of cuisine. She makes with me our wonderful aepas and tamales.

It is so comfortable here in this world of God who reigns above all here. All our people here are self sufficient nor wanting for anything. Nature provides for all.

Am I in heaven Papa? Goodbye now. Will take the pups for their walk on the beach and go join my artist friends for a gathering before I go to my easel to paint this glorious vision I beheld today.

T.Q.M Papi

U T O P I A

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Dear Goldie,

I made it to Utopia. It is beautiful. Clear aqua blue water, tropical fish and dolphins everywhere, stretching as far as the eyes can see. There are fruit trees you’ve never heard of! There are so many different smells it’s exciting. The people are loving and beautiful. The islanders say you’re free to be you. Nobody touches other peoples stuff. It’s a safe place. You don’t have to lock your doors.

I’m in utopia and I’m looking out of my window. There are a lot of people walking, and these people cause a major rush in utopia. That’s where my job is. I help people with counseling in utopia. I live there in utopia and my house look like a castle. It has five people that live there with me.

I’m the highest paid person. We have a king in utopia, and he handles all the problems in the place where I live. The King helps us with emo-tions, problems, and even stressful situations. The King has plants, and through these plants we get positive energy. In my utopia, every-one is euphoric.

Dear John,

I’m sitting in utopia in my beautiful castle looking out my window where there are many beautiful trees that put off a scent like you’ve never smelled before. It makes you feel euphoric. I’ve never felt like this before. It makes me want to bask in the presence of the smell. Free and full of life, the trees around us are alive. These are trees that have life when you look closely at their beautiful branches, and they are people, full of life, and the trees move through the forest with el-


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egance. When the trees come close to my window, the branches comes alive and talk to me. They have kind voices. They bring fruit, full of life, for us to eat.

Dear Miss Philomena,

Hi! How are you doing? This is Pamela and Barbara. We have just arrived in Utopia. It is so beautiful and hot here. It’s about 85 degrees right now. The sky is blue and there are very few clouds. The land is very green with lots of trees and flowers. The trees are full of mangos, papayas, and pears. The flowers are everywhere and very fragrant. There are carnations, lilies and roses.

Right now we’re on our way to our hotel on the beach. We’re looking out the window. The sand is marble colored, finely grated and covered with beautiful starfish submerging from the ocean. The ocean is clear blue you can see fish jumping in and out of the water.

Since we have just arrived we’re gonna change into our swimming attire so we can go for a swim on the beach.

Pamela has put on a full, purple and gold, French cut one piece swim suit with a wrap. She has yellow flip flops, a big straw hat, a beach bag with the beaching accessories and gold glitter studded shades. Barbara has her swimming suite and wrap. We’re ready to hit the beach!

So, as we come down to the lobby we notice that there are martians there. I guess we have overlooked this. For when we arrived, we did not see any martians. We thought we were seeing things. To our dis-belief.

U T O P I A

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U T O P I A

Hi Yo!

How are you? I hope this finds you in good health and high spirits. I miss you dearly, and I’d love for you to come visit as soon as you can. You know you are always welcome in my home.

The skies here are always a bright blue. The sun warms my skin better than any sweatshirt could ever do.

I had my beautiful glass house built directly on the border of the beach and the jungle. My front yard is the beach, with warm tan sand that soothes the bare foot, and crystal blue water, clear enough to see the vibrant colors of the marine life below. The back yard is the jungle that houses tons of exotic animals. The thick green trees produce these unforgettably calming aromas.

No matter where I decide to go, whether it be the front or back yard, I wear long, flowing light summer skirts and dresses allowing my body to truly feel free.

One of my favorite things to do is go out back into my jungle and pick the sweet fresh fruit that grows abundantly among the wildlife. I gather enough for myself to take back to the house and enough to snack on and share with some of the beautiful animals who know I’ll never miss an opportunity to bond with them.

There are not a lot of people here, but just enough to never get lone-ly. There is, however, this ever changing migration of people. I meet someone new everyday. This utopia I live in requires a certain type of person. Actually, it attracts certain people like pheromones from a lioness in heat. The people here are calm and peaceful, very much free-spirited. The simple presence of one another is truly invigorating.


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Dear Garry,

It’s amazing how the world here differs from our own. Although peo-ple are born with multiple hues of skin, differing shapes and sizes, there is no concept of prejudice. Amazingly all children are taught that everyone is equal and a child of God and as children of God they embrace and love each other. Babies, the sick and the elderly are all cared for with kindness and compassion. Death is a celebration of the deceased’s life and a time of joy.

Like the people, the physical planet is embraced and tended as the pre-cious commodity it is. The land is lush with vibrant color. Tall sway-ing palms heavy with ripe, luscious coconuts dot the landscape. The ground is covered with a bedspread of strong, thick, blades of grass varying from yellow-green to deep emerald. Flashes of bright, almost neon, color pop in ones views from the exotic, heavily perfumed and tropical flowers that grow large and bountiful here.

In the distance, a clear aquamarine sky meets the crystal clear green-ish-blue slow lapping water of the ocean as colorful birds like toucans and flamingos fly in the sky. If an eye is kept to the sea, pink dolphins can be seen leaping from the surface an exuberant demonstration of ecstasy. The occasional seahorse, large and proud, rears its majestic head.

The air is clean and crisp like a newly laundered and starched shirt. Layered underneath the smell of purity lies an almost unnoticeable but present nonetheless, sweet smell of citrus. As night falls the glowing ball of orange, rose, tangerine and mandarin sinks slowly into the pas-tel painted twilight sky as the air magically shifts from an energizing citrus to a soothing, calming lavender. The smell becomes a comfort-ing hug to the many hued natives who seem to drift gently off to sleep, faces relaxed, anticipating warm brown sugar cookie dreams.

The sound of the island can only be described as akin to the tinkling laughter of children. It there any sound so amazing? And why should

U T O P I A

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the people not be happy? They surely live in Utopia. Food is shared. Life is celebrated and the world is beautiful. Please pack and join me soon! I love you and can’t wait to share this with you.

Dear You,

I’ve wondered how different My City of Love could be. I’m wishing that my tree of life wasn’t destroyed. I am very connected to my tree of life. When I am dying, I look for it. There’s nothing better than flying around with my bird. The woman who rules in my city is Aphrodite, The Goddess of Love. When something goes wrong and against our morals, we tie those aliens up and stone them to death. We give their bodies to our tree of life for it will finish taking their souls to give to us life when our city needs it. We ride until we die. Lost souls here are not invited. My City makes war with aliens that invade our space. We love our own and will fight if we have to. Love ultimately takes over every speck of dirt we walk on. Love prevails.

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U T O P I A

creating a world of hope

Documents

d o f h o p ewhere

warm butter

cold air

gentle warm breeze

women of hope house

warm tan sand

p t e rsix

nature of hope