I wrote the musing about Newport’s big Houses. They’re so ostentatious and huge. And loads of them were for sale. No surprise, who can keep them up? And yet so beautiful. A product of their age and our systems of class. Something I coveted in my childhood and youth and shake my head about now I’ve grown up. But man. Such beauty. Because privilege allows us beauty.

I wondered how much more money and influence did you have to have to live on the cliff side of Bellvue street? And New Yorker that I was I kept thinking of the hospital where people with mental illness were imprisoned in squalor.

But oh, these places are beautiful… and Newport has oysters. yum. I ate a lot. Ridiculously I ran into a man I know from home.

And I came home to news of the Paris attack. I came in at 20 feared dead, awoke this morning to 158. Such horror. Such violence.

And, sobered, I realize how many people live with this every day. I’m horrified because it happened in a city I love… But it’s this fear, this violence, this murder, that puts people on boats to escape their lives. what is the right prayer, we wonder? What is the right action.

War only begets more war.

But how do you love the violence out of movements of hate? How do you Peace?

I reach out my hands, my friends. I wish you Love. I wish you Peace. I wish that we will Peace together.