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If you wish you can browse all these many renditions of the historical figure,
Pocahontas, who had a great history. She died at 22 so this tells. Her words
to her husband, John Rolfe, were: “All must die, at least this child will live.”
This woman who lived so long ago has had an impact on my life and possibly
made me what I am. When I was fourteen our class visited Woolaroc, museum
out of Bartlesville, Oklahoma. Here there is a very large painting of the girl as
she throws herself over John Smith in order to save his life. Why the painting
struck me I can never explain. Maybe it was because she was close to my own
age at the time. The real impact was the artwork, itself. The beauty and care the artist used to illustrate the event was full of his skill as an artist. In my youth I made up my mind this was what I wanted to do.
Time has brought me some 60 years since and true, I have not even achieved one tenth of the man’s skill. The only accomplishment I’ve had through the practice of art was the way the beauty of it has contributed to the joy in my life.
The irony is that almost 40 years ago through no intelligence on my part I met someone, a doctor, who saved my life and who probably is a descendant of this woman, Pocahontas.
His advice turned around the diagnosis of another doctor who said, “If you live nine months, you may live.”
The bravery of a doctor to use common sense and the intelligence of Pocohantas to stand up for simple values have brought me back to sane practices to withstand the fatalistic attitudes at the time of the common place.
“If you can’t pronounce the words on the label, don’t put it into your mouth. When you find yourself preparing for death, getting your papers in order, making a will, whatever else, GET back on your diet, which you have, no doubt been neglecting. When you come out of denial in this way, do away with the greatest killer, ‘STRESS.”
So, in the words of Pocahontas who was only 22 when she died, ‘all must die.” And in her reasoning, “the child will live.” And so it was my child did live and so did I, some 40 years.
Now, when I know and am so well acquainted with the warning symptoms, I go back to my good doctor’s words, “Do away with the greatest killer, ‘STRESS.”
The world around doesn’t want to let go. “Why aren’t you doing this, or why can’t you do that?”They harangue. If my great doctor could stand up to a nation at a time when his ideas were not popular, surely I can stand up to a few who wish to push me, prod and almost demand, regardless of my protests.
How strange that so much has been written about Pocahontas and put into art form. Is there a message here? Art has always been a way for me to turn away from unpleasant circumstances of all life and living. A psychiatrist friend looked down his nose and said,
“Art is an escape!”
“Maybe,” I’m thinking. If it is an escape it sure beats pills, the bottle, or whatever other is the common practice habit to escape.
If you wish you can browse all these many renditions of the historical figure,
Pocahontas, who had a great history. She died at 22 so this tells. Her words
to her husband, John Rolfe, were: “All must die, at least this child will live.”
This woman who lived so long ago has had an impact on my life and possibly
made me what I am. When I was fourteen our class visited Woolaroc, museum
out of Bartlesville, Oklahoma. Here there is a very large painting of the girl as
she throws herself over John Smith in order to save his life. Why the painting
struck me I can never explain. Maybe it was because she was close to my own
age at the time. The real impact was the artwork, itself. The beauty and care the artist used to illustrate the event was full of his skill as an artist. In my youth I made up my mind this was what I wanted to do.
Time has brought me some 60 years since and true, I have not even achieved one tenth of the man’s skill. The only accomplishment I’ve had through the practice of art was the way the beauty of it has contributed to the joy in my life.
The irony is that almost 40 years ago through no intelligence on my part I met someone, a doctor, who saved my life and who probably is a descendant of this woman, Pocahontas.
His advice turned around the diagnosis of another doctor who said, “If you live nine months, you may live.”
The bravery of a doctor to use common sense and the intelligence of Pocohantas to stand up for simple values have brought me back to sane practices to withstand the fatalistic attitudes at the time of the common place.
“If you can’t pronounce the words on the label, don’t put it into your mouth. When you find yourself preparing for death, getting your papers in order, making a will, whatever else, GET back on your diet, which you have, no doubt been neglecting. When you come out of denial in this way, do away with the greatest killer, ‘STRESS.”
So, in the words of Pocahontas who was only 22 when she died, ‘all must die.” And in her reasoning, “the child will live.” And so it was my child did live and so did I, some 40 years.
Now, when I know and am so well acquainted with the warning symptoms, I go back to my good doctor’s words, “Do away with the greatest killer, ‘STRESS.”
The world around doesn’t want to let go. “Why aren’t you doing this, or why can’t you do that?”They harangue. If my great doctor could stand up to a nation at a time when his ideas were not popular, surely I can stand up to a few who wish to push me, prod and almost demand, regardless of my protests.
How strange that so much has been written about Pocahontas and put into art form. Is there a message here? Art has always been a way for me to turn away from unpleasant circumstances of all life and living. A psychiatrist friend looked down his nose and said,
“Art is an escape!”
“Maybe,” I’m thinking. If it is an escape it sure beats pills, the bottle, or whatever other is the common practice habit to escape.