Here are some picture of my contribution to the Red Sand Project! If you want to participate in this great project, as well, message me or go to their website! :)
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Kazakhstan

seen from United States

seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Palestinian Territories

seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
Here are some picture of my contribution to the Red Sand Project! If you want to participate in this great project, as well, message me or go to their website! :)
Here is some more information on the red sand project. :)
Overlooked populations - refugees, immigrants, girls, and others - are most at risk of being enslaved, spending their lives being exploited for the profit of others. We can't merely walk over the most marginalized people in our communities — those who fall through the metaphoric cracks. Molly Gochman's artwork, Red Sand Project, asks you to take the time to find and fill a sidewalk crack with red sand or other materials and to then share your sidewalk transformation on social media using #RedSandProject. Your participation expands the movement. Lend your voice.
In today’s world it is so easy to forget the fight is still ongoing. So many of us are guilty of being consumed by our cosy lifes and we forget that for some, it is not so easy.
But I won’t forget. I won’t forget the struggle my ancestors went through daily so that as a woman I have the right to vote. I won’t forget the battle for equal rights regardless for people of all races. I won’t forget the tears that came when my best friend found out that she could FINALLY marry her girlfriend.
But most of all, I won’t forget that for some the horrors of our past are still their present. We may have come so far but we still have some way to go, and we must keep striving to protect and preserve human rights.
So lend your voice to those who have not been given the right to use theirs. Lend your voice to the fearful, the tortured, the oppressed. Lend your voice to the men women and children who spend their days dreaming of a better life. Lend your voice to the hurt and the hungry. The fight is ongoing. The fight is ours.
So lend your voice.
Alex Sullivan was killed on July 20th 2012 in the Aurora theater massacre, celebrating his 27th birthday. In this interview, Tom talks about his relationship with Alex, what he does when he watches a movie at the theater. He reflects on what life is like today without Alex and what he would like America to know. Leaving the statistics to others, he shares the personal things he now knows as a father of a murder victim, all with a goal to get people talking, to get people to do something before they have a similar story to tell.
(via https://soundcloud.com/user-810481127/tom-sullivan-alex-sullivan?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=tumblr)
On June 17, 2009 my precious daughter, Emma Jane, passed away, five days before her 17th birthday. Emma was beautiful, bright, and articulate, with an effervescent personality. She was a talented musician who shared her musical gifts generously and participated in every musical ensemble she could fit into her schedule. She was a caring daughter, sister, and friend and a bright light in the lives of many, many people. Emma took her own life. When Emma killed herself she created a tsunami of destruction that swept up family, friends, teachers, ministers, mentors and neighbors. All of us struggled against the current of guilt, pain, shock and bewilderment. For her immediate family: her father, sister and me, life as we knew it ended. I’m not sure we will ever fully understand why Emma ended her life; what caused what must have been an incredibly deep sense of despair and hopelessness; or why she couldn’t reach out to us or to the many other caring adults and professionals she had in her life. Nonetheless, in the days, weeks and months after Emma’s death I turned to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) to learn more about suicide and to search for clues that would help explain why my beautiful, bright, talented daughter was gone from our lives.
The facts that I discovered about suicide shocked and alarmed me. Suicide claims close to 39,000 lives in the United States, which is nearly as many as breast cancer and more than twice as many as HIV/AIDS. According to the CDC, suicide is the tenth leading cause of death across all ages and the second leading cause of death for children ages 12-17. It is the only one of the ten leading causes of death that has not seen a decline or leveling off in the number of deaths each year. And the fact that is often missing from the debate on gun control is that 60% of deaths by firearms are suicides.
With statistics like those, how is it that no one; not our schools, not our pediatrician, not even Emma’s therapist of three years, had talked to us about suicide and alerted us to the warning signs? If my husband and I knew the warning signs, would we have been able to get her the right help? My daughter’s pediatrician saw Emma just 3 weeks before her death for a hormonal disorder that causes depression. Had she understood the risk of suicide in teens like Emma, would she have treated that disorder more aggressively or, perhaps, referred her to a psychiatrist for an assessment? If her therapist, who she saw the night before she ended her life, had had specific training in assessment of suicide risk, would she have picked up a sign that would have allowed us to intervene before it was too late?
I became involved with AFSP as a field advocate because I believe we can do a better job of preventing suicide. We can raise awareness about suicide prevention and mental illness and reduce the stigma that prevents people from seeking treatment. We can get all the information we already know about suicide prevention into the hands of the people who are best positioned to identify and intervene with those at risk: school personnel, primary care physicians, and behavioral health providers. We can fund research that will unlock remaining mysteries about suicide and mental illnesses and lead to safer and more effective treatments. If we join together to do these things, I know we can save lives.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about Emma and remember the gift that she was in our lives. Working on behalf of AFSP is my way of honoring her and thanking her for the many beautiful memories that I treasure.
- Nancy von Euler
It’s not about me. It’s not about you. It’s about us.
We’re here for a very brief period. Although we are ultimately responsible only for ourselves, we do not walk alone on this earth. We rely on each other for companionship and survival.
I live in Newtown, CT and have many questions stemming from the mass murder that occurred here. I never imagined it could happen here, in my neighborhood. Violence is not as remote as it once was. I continue to be horrified, angry, and feel profound sadness for the victims, their families and each degree of separation outward from this massive epicenter. How did we as a country, a community, a neighborhood, a family, a person, allow this to happen? Obviously, no one with implicit knowledge of what would occur would have allowed such an unspeakable act. You wonder about all the potential steps along the way of a person’s life where someone could have changed one thing that may have made a difference and kept the killer from picking up a gun that day or any day. Could the course of events have been altered to the extent that this tragedy possibly would never have happened?
It felt like we as a society have failed so many people along the way, and in small ways we fail a little every day. We also succeed in small ways every day. Can we increase our successes and decrease our failures at a more rapid pace in our struggle to creating cultural change and a more peaceful world?
I see this cultural change as moving from a “me” to “we” attitude and it echoes the golden rule of treating others as we would like to be treated. Of course we need to do what’s best for us and our families. We’re all facing the same basic needs to survive, minimize pain and finding meaning in our lives. If these are the fundamental forces in our journey, can’t we seek happiness and meaning not just for ourselves and our families, but also for our neighbors, our community, and our country? Increasing happiness and/or minimizing pain around us, directly and indirectly, would bring us more happiness, no? While I may be the center of my universe, I can still empathize and have compassion for others.
The word for constellation in Navajo is: "So' Dine'é.” It means "Star People.”
SODINA
We are all human.
We are all here for a very short time in relation to the universe and thus rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But although we may look at our existence as insignificant at times, we hold enormous power over how we lead our lives and our potential for doing both good and bad.
We are all on the same journey, trying to make sense of our world, our place in it, to find meaning in our lives, trying to find happiness.
We are limited only by what we believe are our limitations. While we may have limited power and influence as individuals, if we cooperate and collaborate with like-minded people, we can accomplish much more than we may imagine.
We should ask ourselves why are things the way they are?
Why can’t things be changed?
There’s great probability that others feel as we do and we simply need to find each other, listen to each other and collaborate toward a common goal.
SODINA.org is about finding each other, sharing our personal stories, and giving them a place to shine for all to see.