Riley Charters

I'm going to add a few links to my blog over the next couple of weeks, please check them out. It ranges from other's blogs, fun links to favored artists websites. To start, check out this artist's website.

Riley Charter's artwork has been influenced by her Interior Salish background as well as where she lives in the Fraser Valley. Those who know both Merritt and Mission localities will recognize these influences immediately.

Riley Charters http://www3.telus.net/public/willlowe/Riley&Bill%201.html

Click on the year or decade that you want to explore. If you look hard enough, you can find me as a model for several pieces.

"Untitled", courtesy of the artist is one of me, though Riley exercised artistic interpretation and added the white skunk hair as I was only in grade 9 when I posed for her.

"Untitled" 1988AD

Copywrited 1988 by Riley Charters. All Rights Reserved.

NOT TO BE COPIED WITHOUT PREMISSION OF ARTIST

Panda's hard at Work

Have you even been out numbered by Panda's at work?

Wished I worked here, where one is surrounded by sleepy pandas and one curious panda who wants to find out what's in the box.

Oh, wouldn't that be fun? Over run with pandas, I'm in!

Quick! Somebody get me a cat.

In your eyes...

I saw you standing there in the rain but it took Mike pointing it out that you weren't just standing there on the overpass...you were on the outside of the railing. Only for a moment I saw the absolute despair in your eyes framed by your dark hair matted down by the rain as we passed under you in our vehicle. I wish I could have stopped the rain from falling on your face as you cried, your hands barely holding on to the Clayburn Overpass.

Though we saw that two other vehicles had stopped to aid you and unfortunately for us, Sumas Way afforded us no way to get to you, I asked Mike if he had brought the cellphone. He had and I dialed 911. We had been the first to call about this situation.
"911, Do you require Ambulance, Police or Fire?"
"Police, I think." (Me)
"What is your emergency?"
"There is a woman on the Clayburn Overpass, I think she's going jump." (Me, again)
"What was the location?"
"Clayburn Overpass and Sumas Way" (That would be me again)
"Can you give me a description?"
"Young woman; dark hoodie, jeans." (Me)
"Okay, thank you. A unit is on it's way."

I happen to be in that part of town that deploy the police cars, I saw the lights and heard the sirens blare out for you as the car sped along the streets racing towards you. I know not what the outcome of your fate may be and probably never will. But, I will keep you in my prayers for your eyes will haunt me otherwise.

A life not lived and a life gotten to live

This is a story that has been told to me about my grandfather and his brother, my granduncle. War World II had gripped the nation and my granduncle being young and eager signed up for the Royal Canadian Armed Forces. Before he was accepted to the Armed Forces he needed to go through the medical tests of the day; make sure he wasn't flat footed, didn't have any eye problems and in that day in age wasn't left-handed. He was also given a Penicillin shot, another standard procedure of the day. My granduncle was dead within 72 hours of receiving it. He was allergic to penicillin and it killed him; a healthy, young man with anything ahead of him. The Canadian Government denied my family compensation for his death because he wasn't technically in the Armed Forces. It probably didn't help their case that they and he were Indians to use the jargon of the day.

Not long after conscription came into effect, all youths 18 and older were required to sign up for a tour of duty with the Royal Canadian Armed Forces. You understand what a outrage this proved to my family with a son old enough to be sent. One son dead, uncompensated and now Canada demanding a new sacrifice. Luckily for the family, Canadian birth records for the time weren't too accurate for, excuse my language, Indians. My grandfather was told he was 15 years old and sent to live in a remote spot of British Columbia for the duration of the conscription.

The family denied any knowledge of a son being any older and till the day he died we never knew how old he actually was. I remember trying to figure it out, but he could never remember if they added the years back after the war of not. My grandfather lived to see his branch of the family out number his brothers combined and lived to see his grandchildren having children of their own.

What I remember on this day? A life not lived and a life gotten to live.

Cite Soleil

I came across this story on a late night show CBC called The Hour with George Stroumoulopoulos. Looked like an interesting documentary about two brothers caught in the gang wars of Cite Soleil, the biggest slum of Haiti. Both soliders of war, ready to die young and one brother wants to be a rapper.

The story reminded me of a news clip a couple of years ago about death in Cite Soleil when UN troops went in with bloody consquences. Even recently there have been protests against the UN in Cite Soleil, calling for UN peacekeepers to withdraw. The charge? UN peacekeepers firing on civilians during gunbattles with street gangs.

Check out the Documentary with Wyclef Jean http://www.cbc.ca/thehour/video.php?mode=w&save=0&id=1144

Should I be dead?

As a thread off a friend's blog I feel the need to spill on this issue(Psst...Kat, I hope you don't mind!) The topic of discussion? Euthanasia of disabled babies before they are born. A medical college in Britain is calling on health professions to consider permitting the euthanasia of seriously disabled newborn babies. I understand the Netherlands allows euthanasia in a wide range of circumstances of severe disability or painful conditions. Will other countries follow? I don't know, I can only hope not. I cherish my life and I wonder how far this line of euthanasia will be pushed. Where will the line been drawn? What constitutes seriously disabled? I have a mild form of Cerebral Palsy and though I am not considered seriously disabled if society genetically eliminates everyone who has a serious disability would I not then be classified as seriously disabled? Would then anyone who would be born after that time be "mercifully eliminated" because they are seriously disabled and we as a society wouldn't want them at a disadvantage to everyone else? I'm not saying that I haven't had my struggles as a person with disabilities who tries to maintain herself in a world to tends to move at a pace that I can't keep up with. That being said I'd much rather be here in the slow lane and on the fringe than not here at all.

There are challenges to raising children with disabilities, but so it is with all children. What my parents had to deal with emotionally, financially and socially to care for not one but two children with disabilities is a daily reminder of their strength of love us and each other. It was not easy and at times they had to face the very real possibility of my brother or I not living out the night. And, it's a personal cost I'll never know how high a price they've paid. But my parents have never wished that they had a so called easier way out. To be given a get out of jail free card for the overall good of families, and to suggest that it spares parents the emotional burden and financial hardship of bringing up the hardest-hit babies as is proposed...it's rubbish.

Some of the sweetest babies I have come into contact with have been severely disabled and the parents have been happy as clams to have such gems in their lives. Happiness in families is not dependent on physical health of the children.

I could go on and on, there are some many tangents I could take this...But, this is it for now.