It’s always the children, isn’t it? It’s always the kids who get it.
When the strutting despot, Putin, decides to help out his old pal, genocidal tyrant Bashar Al-Assad, before too long hospitals and schools and aid convoys are bombed; the UN Security Council gets angry and the usual suspects play their veto cards like this is some bizarre game where the person who wins is the one who does the least. Before you know it, Iran is implicated. The EU discusses sanctions but somehow nothing happens. The British government says it’s OK to sell fighter planes to countries where human rights mean even less than women’s rights. Refugees pour over borders and citizens panic: far right-wingers make a play for government by stoking up fear and dread in the electorate. Desperate people cram boats made of scrap metal and hope and drown in the Mediterranean, their bodies washed ashore in Greece and Italy. For some reason we cannot remember the lessons of Auschwitz, Hiroshima, or the killing fields of Cambodia.
Then, in a town called Khan Sheikhoun, government aircraft drop bombs one Tuesday morning while everyone sleeps. Mohammed Rasoul, the head of a charity ambulance service, tells the BBC that his medics had found people, many of them children, choking in the street. Blue lips, foaming from the mouth, eyes reddened and sore: it seemed certain this was a chemical attack. Putin condemns the ‘groundless accusations’ of Syrian government responsibility. Trump slams the stable door knowing the horse left long ago.
Once again, there they are, wrapped up in blankets torn from someone’s unmade bed or held in a weeping father’s arms – the children. The collateral damage. Twenty-seven short lives lived in fear snuffed out, just like that.
Some time later, Bashar Al-Assad wakes up with a start in the middle of the night; all around his bed are the pale, ghostly faces of all the children he caused to be murdered in order to cling on to power. They do nothing but stare, the room feels airless with pity.
It’s always the children. So sad.
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Indeed, Susan, unbearable.
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I’ve been thinking a lot about how to use artwork to tackle some of what’s happening in the world. I’m glad to see your post.
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Thanks, Jean. I try and keep out of it but some things are too awful to ignore.
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Reblogged this on Jots from a Small Apt. and commented:
Michael and I have never met. We live land masses and an ocean aprt. I know him through his art, see him through his eyes, and can feel him through his brave, brave heart. Michael’s thoughts speak to me, his words speak for me…..
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Thank you so much, Raye, that’s so kind. I don’t feel terribly brave at the moment but I’m so moved that this ‘spoke’ to you. M x
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I have reblogged your post on my http://www.jotsfromasmallapt.wordpress site.
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I always thought the best punishment for Cheney and Rumsfeld and Bush would have been for them to relive all the deaths their macho posturing caused. So I find your similar idea for Assad to be very appropriate.
Yes, Trump…and by the way, don’t let any refugees in, but what a big man I am. I’ll avenge their deaths, but I won’t support their lives.
Beautiful haunting illustration. (K)
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Thank you so much, Kerfe. I’ve just read a quote from a German politician who said, I don’t want to live in a world where freight and bonds can cross borders but not people. Have a splendid day.
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Very haunting, evocative, and powerful.
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Thanks, Laura.
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If only despots did lose sleep over their victims…
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One can but hope that somewhere, deep down lurks a tiny, battered shred of human feeling…
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You found the words to express how lots of people feel…. at least I hope lots of people feel this way… I certainly do.
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Thank you so much, Birgit, so do I.
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Heartbreaking, depressing and maddening, what a world. Beautifully touching drawing of those innocent souls Michael
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Thank you, Phil. It’s almost too much to bear sometimes, isn’t it?
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I agree with what the others have said about your touching art and words. ❤ I keep wishing for a special hell for people like Putin and Assad who care for no one but themselves and don't think twice about hurting others.
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Thank you, Teresa. There really should be a place where they are made to confront their victims.
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I am waiting for a time, and I hope it is in my lifetime, when the only bombs dropped are those which carry truth and peace. Seems fitting to behold on this day, the faces of children, to absorb the innocence of a pencil stroke which gestures in more than just facial detail. Am drawn in, to the images, the words; somehow I am encouraged, no not encouraged, but rather incited to do the same in my own little way.
Came here by way of ‘Jots’. She, a good person and artist or is it artist and good person. Plus, she doesn’t tell me ‘to go away’.
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Thank you, Calvin, that’s very kind. If we all do something, who knows, a whisper might become a clamour. Go well.
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Hauntingly beautiful.
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Thank you, Jeanette.
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Thank you for putting this despair into words. In every home, city and street right now, what can we each do to hear and understand and care for children
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Thank you, Naomi. It keeps on happening, sadly.
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😪😪😪
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Whoa – that is very powerful, Michael, both art and prose.
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Thank you, LuAnne. The reason I rarely do current affairs posts is that the news is always ahead of me: another 50+ children dead a couple of days ago: killed by someone pretending to give away potato chips from a truck packed with explosives. Imagine how shrivelled up your heart must be to think up something like that…
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I don’t know, Michael. I just read about that coup in Turkey this morning. There is some bad energy brewing in the world today, my country, the US is a major contributor. I suspect something terrible is on the horizon world wide but trying to send out the positive where I can to combat this negative energy.
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Yes, let’s try.
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This is such a soul-touching post..
So sad and shocking yet true 😥
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Thank you, Leen. Such news stories are truly heart breaking, aren’t they? Having heard them, one is subtly changed forever.
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This is beautiful. Unfortunately, the pain does not just end with children killed by bombing or arms. I have worked as a researcher in humanitarian aid in Turkey the past two years and if not killed, the refugee children end up living in abject poverty or often become child labourers. Child brides are an addition too. It is the hardest thing to face, the lost generation.
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Thank you for your thoughtful response, Asli. You’re right, of course, that the misery goes on. I can only have enormous respect for the work you do and believe that you, your colleagues and many other good people are making a difference.
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