Today, I’m posting my art photos in honor of our gay brothers and sisters who sadly have to march again for their love and freedom on Pride Day in Pride Month. In our country, there is no shortage of people yelling about liberty who can’t wait to take it away from other people.

America has always been a schizophrenic country, free and hateful at once. There is no end to having to march for justice and freedom. I’m proud to be going.

Today, I also honor my grandparents, aunts, and uncles, who risked their lives and walked across Eastern Europe to get to the land of the free, where they could do what they wished, say what they wanted, and love who they expected.

They loved this country for that; it would break their hearts to see this hatred of immigrants and people who simply love who they love.

Joining the march is the very least I can do. Every bit of love sends something good out into the world.

I can’t control the world or wave a wand and make bigots and haters change their nature; all I can do is support freedom in my own life and in those around me.

It is painful to see that in America in 2013, this battle has to be fought again – and again. Perhaps if the people who swear to uphold the Constitution would read it, this disease might weaken.

I’m a watcher, not a marcher, but I will happily march today in Bennington, Vt., the closest Pride Day march near the farm.

I don’t think my grandmother ever marched in protest – she wouldn’t have dared – but I think she would approve of Pride Month. She often talked about how she would never again take being free for granted.

I hope I never do, either.

In my country, we love who we wish and have children when we want and raise them as best we can.

Maria will march in the Pride Parade and perform with the Bennington Beledi Belly Cancers. I’ll be marching and watching, honoring Pride Day, a rare holiday with real contemporary meaning, and proud of my wife.

This is one of my favorite art photo posts; I love the warmth and softness of it.

This one is deep enough to wade through

The sole rose is powerful in its own way, and especially dignified.

I’m already tearing up my garden bed. I want to find more flowers like this snapdragon.