Last year, several of us came together to begin a monthly creative collaborative gathering. Tonight we had a productive brainstorming session about projects we may work on in the future. It was fun and fruitful.
Now back to the revisions for the next book (S.C.) I was hoping to to finish up edits this week, although I’m at a minor crossroads.
I may sleep on it.
I’m behind on my post about Zlukacamp that I attended on Saturday, January 22, in Chicago. It was a remarkable experience, and I consider myself lucky to have met this driven and passionate group of Ukrainian students.
We began with a symbolic representation of our connections to Ukraine as each participant marked the place in Ukraine where they were born or most identified with.
Truly we were “all over the map,” with our roots stretching across Ukraine. It was a fitting way to begin our talks on January 22–Ukrainian Unity Day, commemorating the declaration of unity between the Ukrainian People’s Republic (UNR) and the Western Ukrainian People’s Republic (ZUNR) proclaimed in Sofiyska Square in Kyiv on 22 January, 1919.
These Ukrainian students spoke eloquently about issues dear to their heart: Why do some students from Ukraine choose to remain in the US? Why do others return and what kind of support system is in place to help them to succeed? How can they work with Ukrainians in Diaspora to affect change in Ukraine?
Dr. Myron Kuropas presented the history of Ukrainian Diaspora and attempts by the Ukrainian communities to preserve their culture and traditions in America.
Several of the Ukrainian students spoke about the challenges at hand: corruption, education, expectations, and politics. There are so many obstacles for anyone who wants to make a positive change for Ukraine and her people, and these young people are aware of those challenges and continue to develop ways that they can make a difference.
I spoke about my novel, The Silence of Trees, and my own feeling of being on the threshold between two worlds: Ukrainian and American. It is characteristic of Diaspora literature, this connection to ancestral homeland and the idea that those in Diaspora should collectively be committed to the preservation/restoration of this homeland.
Joined by the Consul General of Ukraine in Chicago, Kostiantyn Kudryk, we listened to a variety of speakers including one of the founders of Zlukacamp, Daria Kaleniuk, as they presented strategies for the future, including supporting Ukrainian students who choose to return to Ukraine, and building a team of Ukrainians and Diaspora who can work together to create projects aimed at supporting Ukraine.
Afterward, we headed over to the Ukrainian National Museum where we heard three additional speakers talk about the importance of archaeological research, the plight of the Crimean Tatar people, and the work of Ukrainian author, Andriy Gudyma.
I was inspired to be in such good company, and proud of this generation of young people coming out of Ukraine. They care deeply for Ukraine and understand that it’s going to be a long road toward improvement. Many of them seem up for the challenge and eager to collaborate with others who share their passion for helping Ukraine.
There’s a flickr page with more photos, and a nice article (in Ukrainian however) here.
I know that they are planning more events in the future, in Chicago and other cities with Ukrainian communities. If you’re interested, they have a facebook page and a google group.
I know they welcome others who are interested in collaboration, brainstorming, and networking. I am proud to have been a part of it, and I hope to stay involved in some way.
This is a group to watch. They are capable of incredible things.
The weekend was filled with some of my favorite people, starting and ending with Kyle Cassidy, who was in town taking more photographs of tattooed veterans for his next book, War Paint. The Tinley Park local paper did a nice little write up here.
After picking Kyle up from the airport, we met with friends at Karyn’s on Green, a lovely vegan restaurant where the Brussels sprouts are heavenly, the fries fantastic, and the service wonderful. We had great conversation that ranged from life-changing effects of world travel to the changing face of time and memory, as well as talk about films, books, and photography. I love lunches like that. I love these people, new and older friends, who enrich my life in so many ways.
Kyle went off to Tinley Park, and we reconnected on Sunday after I ran from a semiannual Board meeting for the Chicago Writers Association to another inspiring meeting of the Chicago Creative Co-op (a.k.a. The Coop).
Most people stuck around to have dinner with Kyle, who joined us after taking photographs in the southwest suburbs. We also met Braden (who had been Kyle’s assistant in Tinley Park) and his girlfriend Tia, who fit in seamlessly with the group.
Another large dinner party gathered around our dining room table, with more lively conversation, followed by a house concert by the sweet and talented Molly Robison (who will be releasing her debut EP Bedrooms & Attics, in Spring 2011).
After folks went home and the kids went to bed, Kyle & I had the chance to chat as the embers died down on the fireplace. It was another moment, perfect and so dear.
This poem from e.e. cummings came my way today(after coming to my attention several time in the last week), this time from Jason Webley’s email and blog post:
i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
When I was twelve and oh-so-sad and lonely, or twenty and conflicted about my path, or thirty and tired and overwhelmed, I dreamed of this.
I dreamed of a home where I welcome intelligent, creative people; where I nourish my children with good food, friends, art, and stories; where I share meals with friends, laugh with my husband, write and read and dance and play.
I dreamed of the time and space to do what I love, to talk with people I respect and admire, to encourage people I believe in.
I may have been sad or discouraged or alone, but I always dreamed. Of this.
And I have more. Dreams of new and amazing days.
Just like this weekend.
May your day be amazing in the ways that matter most to you.