Melinda Foshat

May 1, 2013
by melindafoshat 1 Comment

The Flower Experiment

Since today is the first day of May, this warm spring weather has brought back memories of a flower experiment I thought up last year. One day I would like to travel to the city and perform this experiment, just for my own curiosity. The experiment would be rather simple but I think it would be insightful in regards to how modern culture views quality and quantity.

The Basis of the project would be this:

Go into the city and first ask strangers (without showing them any flowers) if they would prefer to be given a rose or a wildflower. Then proceed to ask them to choose between 3 wildflowers and one rose. If someone prefers the rose both times, reveal to them the flowers. Ideally, the roses should be somewhat more brittle or wilted than the wildflowers. Ask the stranger again which type of flower they would prefer. It would be interesting to see how many people still prefer the wilted rose over three lively wild flowers.

The second part of the experiment would consist of a flower display in which the rose is placed in a crystal vase and the wildflowers in a basket. Again, see how many people prefer each type of flower upon seeing the display. Then switch the two arrangements (placing the rose in the basket and the wildflowers in the crystal vase) and see if this alteration changes their preference.

This is a very simplified example of such a flower experiment. You could probably do a lot more with it by incorporating more flowers or displays. Still, I am curious to find out the results. Who knows, you might see me in the streets one day asking: “what type of flower would you prefer?”

April 29, 2013
by melindafoshat Leave a comment

The Power of a Photo

In a few short weeks I will be moving to Florida to work as a photographer. This new chapter of my life has inspired me to reflect on my love of photography. As an artist, I always search for the deeper meaning in everything. I always believe there are two sides to every angle: one that is well known and one which is often hidden from the world. In the past, when taking photographs, I would often move a rock or leaf to give my picture an edge or a certain look. However, recently, I have enjoyed the challenge of changing nothing and instead working with exactly what I am given. Since adopting this approach, I have yet to move any object in my photographs because doing so would only manipulate the truth and undermine my attempt to reveal such obvious truths which remain invisible to the conventional eye.

It is my mission to share my photographs while developing my own unique perspective of the world and myself. I have always believed the real beauty of the photograph lies not in the final product or what the photo depicts, but rather in the act of taking the photo. The photograph itself will always be a piece of paper but the process of looking through the lens of the camera and capturing a small glimpse of life is somewhat miraculous and divine. Photos have the power to move and make change in other peoples’ lives but when you take a photograph you are making change in your own vision and empowering yourself.

April 21, 2013
by melindafoshat 1 Comment

Where do Orphans go to Burn?

Where do Orphans go to burn?

The children, awake as they shake stillness from their wooden cots,
Hide remnants of their ignorance, beneath the tangled threads of a shagged sheet.
Through the holes of what once a stranger’s robe,
Unfamiliar, yet the only family they’ve ever known,
Their eyes fixate on the twinkling sky; the only time their heads held high.
And the stars in splendor catch their disillusioned gaze,
As they reminisce a light that once was.

The children, who never sleep, would watch, watch the scarlet streamers
Dance, leap across the crooked cracks as the fiery pit awaits its cue.
The roof, heavy with miseries, stretches its arms to embrace them,
Falling into the blackness of their eyes, it falls forever.

In their beds, warm for the first time, a warmth they never knew existed,
They burn––quietly, content, alone––
Their only comfort; teddy bears with broken arms.

And for once the pain of internal wounds cease their pounding.

March 15, 2013
by melindafoshat 3 Comments

The Importance of Respecting Another’s Beliefs

Although it is acceptable to express your opinions on a particular matter, I encourage you to not do so in a disrespectful way. Once you disrespect another, you ultimately lose respect for yourself. To all those making fun of the new Pope or verbally and harshly attacking Catholics with your seemingly indisputable facts, I understand where you are coming from but you are going about it all wrong. You cannot force your beliefs on anyone else and you should certainly not try to do so with a critical attitude. When the time comes when that person wants to find answers beyond their religion, they will not turn to you, and that missed opportunity is your fault. Even though I’m sure we all fall victim to the idea that our own personal beliefs hold truest, I like to believe that there is a little truth in all faiths and cultures. Although I value my own spirituality, I acknowledge, accept, and even appreciate others’ and give thanks that there is no one way to enlightenment. Even if there were only one right way or one right belief, that in itself would be oppressive. So let’s be thankful that we are all free to find the peace and happiness––and for some, the truth––that we need in our lives. It’s okay to want to help others, but try to do it at the RIGHT time and with a more compassionate attitude.

February 25, 2013
by melindafoshat 2 Comments

Enemies

Her faultless nectar courses through
The faults and the routes of my scars.
Reminding me that what once was mine
Is now forever ours.

Her view from the top sprouts fruits of knowledge,
While my ignorant roots keep buried in carnage.
Though her fall embarks from higher plain,
Our pain be still one and the same.

Fruit and Root bound by lover’s hip,
Taste the same on liar’s lip.
Passions ignited by clashing degrees,
Extinguish the same on wounded knees.

Alas, barren ashes exhale all spark,
Yet still re-volt against the dark.
Still, she and I both bear the mark,
The bite of his burnt, black, bark.

February 22, 2013
by melindafoshat 4 Comments

That Deserted Shore

On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that eternal sky.
By fate, or chance, or both, or neither, you ventured onto the path less neater.
And thanks be to the God of love; your soul looked down and mine above.
For the first time, orange-yellow-purple-red-speckled water,
Bursting from a boundless view, now just a bit more broader.
Yet with a view a little more vast than that which has ever been known,
You were bound to realize the magnitude of your being alone.
And though I begged you not to go, a moment more you could not linger,
Quickly you went, as I descent, slipping from your finger.

And the tempestuous waves stand still with fear, paying tribute to those gone before.
Those who once towards the sands did rear then sank beneath the shore.
Valiantly they thrust upon the sand, a warmth they never could withstand.

The sea is calm, calmer than the dawn of that first glorious day.
On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that darkening sky.

II.

As I walked along the waters of that deserted shore in my quest to seek God,
I never once heard him cry out, “Hear I am! Follow my voice and find me!”
Instead––laughter––ringing through the empty air from
Seaweed held under paper trappings.
And the four-legged starfish smiled as it reached to steal my ignorance––
Then, unreachable.
Where is God?
Ask the broken shells and they will tell you––
He came in with the sea and he left with the wind.
As I walk along the waters of that deserted shore,
For the first time––I see the misery––
And hear the groans of grains of sand beneath my blistering feet.
I turn my direction towards the glistening waters.
Alas, I see God––
Buried beneath the ruins of that deserted shore––
Laughing.

Lend Me a Tenor Review