The Official Site of BlogBlast For Peace (Sister site to BlogBlastForPeace.com)
"It is not enough that we learn to unmake war. We must learn to remake peace." ~ Mimi Lenox
THE FACEBOOK ALBUMS
Peace Globe Links
THE PICASA WEB ALBUMS
WHAT THE PEACE BLOGGERS SAID!
Cats Purr For Peese
Blog Talk Radio Interviews with Mimi Lenox
Thursday, June 28, 2007The Top Ten Peace Songs
The infamous Bud Weiser and peace blogger extraordinaire has posted an entire article entitled WTIT'S Top 10 Peace Songs. Bud is owner and DJ of the world's first tape radio station. What an honor!
Take a ride on the Peace Train and check out the peaceful vibes at Bud's place.
Monday, June 18, 2007New Slideshow with June 2007 Peace Globes
If you'd like to have this slideshow, just click and copy the code!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007Instruments of Peace from Italy
Ross from Quotes in Can does just that. Here's one by Mother Teresa and what a quote it is.
"I was once asked why I don’t participate in anti-war demonstrations. I said that I will never do that, but as soon as you have a pro-peace rally, I’ll be there.” - Mother Theresa (1910-1997)
Still want a peace globe? Click HERE.
Dona Nobis Pacem
Saturday, June 09, 2007An American Cyber-Queen Gets a Royal View: The Day After
From a blogger on the West Coast. It's a great big world indeed.
Yesterday's BlogBlast for Peace was incredible.
Bloggingham Palace is still abuzz today with globes overhead trying to make it in for a landing. The blogosphere is full of dancing blue balls of peaceful vibes and messages of hope. The official day has passed but in some parts of the world they're a tad behind schedule, so if you still want to submit a peace globe - or may still be struggling to create one like some I heard from today - please, by all means, continue to send them in! The site was so bogged down yesterday, as was my ability to answer emails and assist people, that I'm extending the deadline for a few days yet.
PLEASE leave a comment to let me know you've participated along with the url and name of your blog. I don't want to miss any and this is a daunting task.
Stay tuned. This evening I'm working on the gallery, answering comments and solving technical issues. I also want to get an official count and location list. If you have some extra time and would like to make a few peace globes for folks, please write and let me know. Mary Lynn (Missy, KC & Bear) made over 25 globes yesterday for artistically-challenged fellow bloggers bogged down with the details. Thank you, ML!
Be back soon to report and reflect. Aren't these lovely?
Thanks to all who participated. It is like Christmas at Bloggingham Palace this week as I "open" new posts and globes. I hope you will place your peace globes in the sidebars of your sites as a reminder of this day and BlogBlasts to come. Carry on, my little peace bloggers, carry on.
This is Mimi Pencil Skirt reporting live from the lovely land of the peace globes.
See more Dona Nobis Pacem posts here....Dona Nobis Pacem
Wednesday, June 06, 2007Dona Nobis Pacem
Pre-script: Please remember to leave a comment at the end of this post along with your url in the box provided so that I may continue to document this event.If you'd like to have the linky code for this event, just email and I will send it to you.
This is Mimi Pencil Skirt reporting live from the lovely land of the Peace Globes. This post was written just before midnight on the eve of the first Dona Nobis Pacem in the Blogosphere - quite unexpectedly inspired by a bowl of marbles - and a loving, gentle tap on the shoulder by someone I loved and lost. I am still amazed at how the story of the Peace Globes really began. Many of you are posting a globe for the first time today and do not know this story. For you, I shall tell it again. And for those who began this journey with me last year, thank you from the bottom of my pencil-skirted heart for allowing me to introduce you, once again, to this honorable man. I am proud to know you.
So is he.
The Silence of Peace
They've been sitting on my piano for more years than I care to count - on the corner of the Kohler and Campbell my grandfather gave me when I was fourteen years old. After he died, I found them in a tattered and dirty bag at the bottom of a box full of his personal things. He wanted me to have them. His marbles.
Handmade roughhewn marbles crafted from rock by my grandfather and his brothers. The year was 1920 and there was no money for toys.
I often wondered why he didn't leave them for a male member of the family. Honestly, folks. It wasn't until just tonight - the eve of Dona Nobis Pacem in the Blogosphere - that I discovered the answer.
I know stranger things have happened.
I just can't recall when.
I knew this post would not be written until the last moment. I made lots of notes but I just couldn't quite make it happen. It is still a little while before midnight in my part of the United States and I'm supposed to be spinning out a masterpiece of goodwill and peace prose - maybe a stunning poem like those we've already seen. A song, a lyric, a new tune.
Instead, Mimi Pencil Skirt wants to talk about rocks.
So I went into my study and began to polish them. One by one. The bowl, the piano, the granite. How many times have I sat at that very bench and casually glanced into that bowl? Thousands. Song after song.
Tune after tune. Lesson after lesson. Tear after tear.
He didn't have a lot of money it seems to me now, my grandfather. At the time though, he was the richest man I knew. And he has been on my mind this week more often than not. Well over six-feet tall and always impeccably dressed, my Papa was the most humble man I've ever met.
When he passed away I met scores of people who told me what he'd meant to them. "He helped me when I needed money....." "He gave me his shoes...." and on and on.
His kindness was not news to me. The fact that a large portion of the town showed up at his wake was, however, a stunning surprise. I didn't know I'd been sharing him all those years.
He made me feel as if I were the only one in the world.
Strange, those marbles. All different shapes and sizes. Colors, too. Yet they've co-existed for years right there atop the long- lovingly- played strings inside my piano - the one Papa used his savings account to buy for me - while he worked two jobs at the factory and made time up on Saturdays when he missed work hours to drive me to my lessons.
I was a bit different. Artistic. Content with solitude. Always writing in endless journals and playing broody piano music. Papa didn't pamper me - even though that's a disputed fact to this day in my family.
What he did was more earth-shattering.
The one on top. That one.
Different... that one. I know that's the very one he made.
I'm sure of it.
When I think about peace and what it means to me, I always wander back to a time when I first felt it. Because I know on an unconscious level that world peace cannot - will not - be achieved without inner peace. Adversaries on both sides of the conflict have to have it. You can't weave magical tranquility out of thin air and conferences. Peace is a state of being.
It has a life of its own.
Real lasting peace is born of creative jumble and hard work. Victories are never won by the one who has the most power - wars are won; but not a state of peace. Nothing good can ever come of power at play for the sake of power.
It never lasts and there's always a price.
Papa's Marbles. Not a pretty one in the bunch.
Every one brown or taupe. Almost every one.
I started thinking this week about those times in my life
when I first felt real peace.
For me, it came in the presence of God at an early age. Not because I am privileged or special. But simply because I was loved. Unconditionally.
Sometimes it takes just one person
to unlock magic in someone else.
I watched that kind of magic flow through my grandfather's life.
He was in tune with who he was. He knew the simple meaning of love.
He knew how to pray.
I often wondered how other people sensed that about him - without the benefit of those life-giving hugs he saved just for me.
He chose the color himself. Papa.....he must have spent hours honing that rock.
I often went with him to backwoods church services. Informal revivals, formal services, anywhere there was special music and a spirit of God - he was there. I can't explain it really. We would visit churches and the minister would ask him to lead the invocation or say the benediction - even though they'd never met. How did they know he could pray? I knew he could pray......but how did they know?
Taking his hat off and bowing his head, he would very quietly hold audience with his Maker. It didn't matter how many people were listening. His prayers always began the same way......"Dear Gracious Heavenly Father......"
No matter where. Or with whom. Or in front of whom.
Hat in hand. Head bowed. He knew how to reach God.
And people sensed that when they met him.
If peace can be worn like a garment then he was always finely clothed, my Papa.
One night he took me by the hand and led me to the altar with him. He knelt down on one knee, elbow resting on the other and silently voiced his heart. I was right there! I heard the whole thing and he never said a word.
He made them with his own hands. He molded them into shape.
Created them and lovingly took care of them. He chose the color.
Not a sonata or a novel. Certainly nothing brilliant or fancy.
Just ordinary marbles.
Tonight I'm sitting at my table writing stories on an electronic device that sends messages to a guy in Canada about globe graphics and insomnia, making pots of endless coffee to stay awake, answering emails from Germany, London, China, New York , Oman and beyond.
Could Papa have ever imagined such a thing?
What was he praying about all that time anyway?
Papa's marbles.....There's something odd about them.
Oh forget about it. They're just a bunch of rocks. You've got a story to write. Can't you think of something brilliant? It's past midnight and everyone has their peace globe up but you.
I struggled. There's something missing here, I thought.
It's about Papa. I can't stop thinking about him.
What would he say to me tonight? How would he pray?
When it hit me, I was way past the point of arguing with myself about miracles and such. I've seen too many come through my mailbox today to argue with God about that.
Do you see it?
The blue one on top.
It looks like a globe.
Dona Nobis Pacem did not start with Mimi. It started in 1920 when a little boy in the rural southeastern United States decided to shape a small blue marble - for his granddaughter.
Note: Adding this technorati tag to your posts will increase readership and involvement in the movement. Dona Nobis Pacem http://technorati.com/tag/Dona+Nobis+Pacem
Tuesday, June 05, 2007The Eve of Dona Nobis Pacem ~ Queen Calls for Globes
I, Mimi Queen of Memes, Mimi Pencil Skirt and other names bestowed upon me by my royal subjects in the wee hours that shall remain unspoken, hereby declare today the beginning of one blogtastic week in the blogosphere.
A week of peace.
When you make your Dona Nobis Pacem post PLEASE leave a comment after linking with Mr. Linky. If you do both I will have a better chance of thoroughly documenting the event. I will have this link box up tomorrow as well. Still need a globe? There's time. We'll be here all week combing through the sphere listening to your lovely words of peace.
Also, I need a few volunteers to help scour the internet and send in globes or posts that you see. Queen is swamped. After all, I just got out of jail.
And my hair is a mess.
Photograph by Annelisa at Words That Flow East Sussex, United Kingdom
Monday, June 04, 2007Mimi is in Jail ~ Send Bail!
I knew it would happen.
Sooner or later somebody would get mad about making peace with the world.
And now there's a bounty on my pencil head. They took my skirt and everything.
My last gig in the slammer was for Felonious Act of Meme Larceny in the third degree, remember? I had to flirt with prisoner 060607 just to get a pencil, the girls in cellblock C are playing Solitaire on my laptop, they gave me bread laced with bread for dinner and I need a manicure.
These people don't play.
Somebody call the President! (1-800-chey-suli) but please don't tell my mother. If you hurry, I could be out by BlogBlast for Peace and she'll never have to worry.
We only need 14 more peace globes to completely color in the United States map with peace globe bloggers! Send these states......
If I'm flying, I'm lying. Would you feed Patti Cakes while I'm gone? She eats chocolate widgets.
And who turned me in for a dollar?
Sunday, June 03, 2007More Than Two-By-Two ~ A Conversation with God
(Globe designed by Christine Epiphany Sanctuary)
"Not in church again, Mimi, I see."
"Oh, you noticed. Well you see, I've been busy, God. I mean
God is not amused.
I dreamed last night I was in a global village, God, and everywhere I looked there were all nationalities.....Gem driving a pink cadillac down the streets of the North Pole ..and Travis danced under the a flashing disco streetlight...and Cheysuli was ...
But Cheysuli was...
"There are no streets at the North Pole. No streets? Hmmmm.. But where does Santa drive his...
"We'll discuss that later, Mimi.
"Now where was I? I remember now...Cheysuli was elected President and Lizza sat on a throne in the Great White North.
Silence. Of the God-kind.
"Mimi, Lizza lives in Asia. That's west, my dear, not north."
"But it's north from somewhere! And God?
"Yes, Your Royal Highness?"
Just a minute, Mims, I need a bigger pad to write on.
(Did I just imagine a giggle from that cloud outside my window?)
(Mimi taking notes: God needs a sense of humor. Throw Him a little test after peace globes.)
I can't learn the language, Lord. Not before Wednesday. My new friends are counting on me. The cats, the dogs, the gerbils. Did you know gerbils talk, Lord? No wonder Noah had to build condos with built-in speakers on the Ark. I can hardly hear a word they're saying.
But God! The dogs are barking!! And drowning out the little animals. It's a zoo I tell ya...
"Mims....about the Ark (God taking notes: Mimi missed Sunday School when the teacher played pin-the-two-by-fours-on-the-ark. Refresher needed.)
The Ark, Mimi....there was no noise, dear. A peaceful voyage it was .
It was raining that day, wasn't it God?
Yes, Mimi but there were no stereo speakers and no one needed to shout and....
Then how did the little people get by?
Well discuss this later, Mimi.
(God taking notes: Do not bring up anything past Genesis with her ever again, especially the Garden of Eden and anything to do with fig leaves.)
Any more questions? I really need to find out what all this commotion is in the blogosphere today. There's a rumbling cloud or two with a vibrating blue beat I haven't seen near Heaven before. I think Lennon is singing somewhere near that bouncing ball over there......And there are kittens, a slew of canines, hootin' owls, bead birds and even people. They look almost....almost.......global."
God, are you feeling alright?
Does your confession have anything to do with a rainbow, Miss Lenox? Have you been in the paint-by-number kit again?
I think I can explain. See, that's what my confession is about. You might be getting some visitors soon and it's all my fault.
God? Are you there? God! I need to ask a question about the ark and the promise and peace and really important stuff. This is no time to go cloud hopping.
God making notes: Maybe she does get it.
And Mimi, about that pencil skirt....
We'll discuss that later, Lord.
I think I just heard thunder.
Saturday, June 02, 2007If I Believe that Words are Powerful, Then This Matters
There is a rumble in the air.
It is moving from blog to blog to blog.
Poetry in the making, paintings full of life and words - oh, your words - are full of healing.
Yesterday I called it a "chatter."
I was wrong.
My dream is still to see those Latin words on every blog, that vision has not changed; but what I'm finding in the ranks of blog pages across our world is far more eloquent than mere numbers can convey.
Yes, the significant grandness and sheer volume of our voice in record numbers is part of the vision - but as of yesterday, when I started to really hear what you were saying - I realized that the depth of what I heard could never be measured by a globe count.
Do you hear it?
This from a teacher in the United States named Quilldancer who wears her blog like a garment of flowers. She taught me about gratitude.