I heard Spike Lee's wife say yesterday that she felt the ghosts of all the people who came before her with her. I imagine Obama does, too. I wonder how it feels to be a man & a symbol at the same time. Heavy burden. I know if anyone can handle it respectfully, it's him. Hope, baby. It's a fine thing to feel after so long.
The only thing wrong with that picture is that we've had NO snow at all in DC/NoVA this winter :(
If we'd had snow on the ground to enjoy, my cup would have runneth over yesterday. But no matter. I just sat there watching the whole thing on the TV and couldn't stop smiling or crying....
oh happy day.
ReplyDeleteHallelujah.
ReplyDeleteIt is a wonderful day, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteYAY! :)
ReplyDeleteIt feels so good.
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting illustration. There aren't any footprints exiting the White House; and he's walking toward it alone.
ReplyDeleteBarack Obama is not alone.
even though he's alone in that picture, we are all right there beside him.
ReplyDeleteI love that cover.
ReplyDeleteBring it on!!
ReplyDeleteIt is time.
ReplyDeletei wonder if the slaves who built that house dreamed that one day a man of color would be living inside it as President?
ReplyDeleteomg I love that cover.
ReplyDeleteI am still teared up over the moment.
I heard Spike Lee's wife say yesterday that she felt the ghosts of all the people who came before her with her. I imagine Obama does, too. I wonder how it feels to be a man & a symbol at the same time. Heavy burden. I know if anyone can handle it respectfully, it's him. Hope, baby. It's a fine thing to feel after so long.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing wrong with that picture is that we've had NO snow at all in DC/NoVA this winter :(
ReplyDeleteIf we'd had snow on the ground to enjoy, my cup would have runneth over yesterday. But no matter. I just sat there watching the whole thing on the TV and couldn't stop smiling or crying....
What a fabulous cover!!
ReplyDeleteThat is AWESOME! I love it.
ReplyDeleteAnd excited about our new world order. The future is looking up.