
I've wanted to make an ATC about the tragedy in New Orleans and I found this quote on a piece of paper in my kitchen. I'm not sure where it came from - obviously it came in an envelope of mail art but I don't know whose. So I decided to use it on a paper ATC. I made a montage of some photos from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and this is how it ended up.

Oh! I looked at the quote - my FAVORITE of all time! - & SAID, "How on EARTH do Judi & I even choose the same QUOTES?" (Sisters) Then you wrote it was on a 'piece of paper.' Typed, by any chance? I think I KNOW who sent it to you. Heehee! I ALWAYS put that on envelopes or IN them! Whether or not, I LOVE the ATC! I think it should be made into a GIANT billboard for the entire WORLD to see! Am I serious? YES!!!! Beautiful job, my friend.
Posted by: kai at September 14, 2005 10:22 AMYou know, I think my mental math skills are improving as a result of reading and responding to your blog.... you may be accomplishing what my grade two teacher wrung her hands over!!
I agree with Kai. I brimmed up when I saw your card and I would like to know if I may print it out? It just never occured to me that ATC's could be used as a social reaction (obviously art education in toto did not figure largely in my curriculum, too bad for me).
Kathy
That fabulous quote is by Ella Wilcox Wheeler, from her poem Voice of the Voiceless. Here's the poem: Voice of the Voiceless
So many gods, so many creeds, So Many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind Is all the sad world needs.
I am the voice of the voiceless: Through me, the dumb shall speak; Till the Deaf world's ear be made to hear The cry of the wordless weak.
From street, from cage and from kennel, From jungle and stall, the wail Of my tortured kin proclaims the sin Of the mighty against the frail
For love is the true religion, And love is the law sublime; And all is wrought, where love is not Will die at the touch of time.
Oh shame on the mothers of mortals Who have not stopped to teach Of the sorrow that lies in dear, dumb eyes, The sorrow that has no speech.
The same Power formed the sparrow That fashioned man-the King; The God of the whole gave a living soul To furred and to feathered thing.
And I am my brother's keeper, And I will fight his fight; And speak the word for beast and bird Till the world shall set things right.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919)
blessings,
jean