Psychopathic Privileges v Life Affirming Principles: The Young Are Reclaiming Their Lives in America

I am not a parent of high school students but I am living with someone who is.  I know many of you are parents and teachers, and I too have been a teacher in high schools where safety was an issue. 

In just over two years of living in Washington, my partner Dale and I have had to process three shootings involving the schools his children attend.  To hear a young person cry in the middle of the night while we all sit on twitter live with her, tracking posts to see if there is anyone else she knows who was shot, is not something you soon forget.  But this of course was not an isolated incident, thus the task force subsequently commissioned to conduct comprehensive student/teacher training sessions and drills as the new norm. 

The day before the Florida school shooting, an eighteen year old was apprehended in my little town of Everett. His grandmother, disturbed by his behavior, read his diaries and found terrifying entries of his plans to “get the biggest fatality number”. He wanted to make it “infamous” by using his semi-automatic AK rifle at one high school,  while triggering strategically placed homemade timed explosives at another (where, incidentally Dale’s son currently attends).  This would-be shooter apparently studied the “past shooters/bombers mistakes”, intending for his chosen date of attack - set for April 19th, to rival those of the Oklahoma City Bombing (04/19/1995) and the Columbine High School attack (04/20/1999).

The grandmother reported her grandson to the police and turned in his diaries - and thank God, because she potentially saved scores of children by making that call.  The lucky part here is that he was caught before he killed. The frightening part is that he was armed to do it, planned to do it, and - that his story hit the news the same morning as the shooting on the far opposite end of the country. The cops were all over the schools, with bomb sniffing dogs; the kids all on lockdown. The usual.  Or I should say, full blown epidemic.  

This young man played online video games with Dale’s son; and he should be freaked out of his mind by this, but like us, he is apparently numb from the shock...and why, because he's been through this before. His sister, prior to her graduation, had been through this before. Their friends have all been through this before.  It is to be expected. This is life for high school kids in America. And this cannot be stereotyped by city or State, because Washington is a state (along with Oregon and California) renowned for a broad and progressive local legislative portfolio which much of the country has yet to catch up to.  And yet, for unfortunate contrast, Washington is an open carry State with less than preferable gun control measures. We have at least 11 gun and ammo shops within a 10 mile radius of our suburban home, where with relative ease Dale and I could purchase semi-automatic weapons if we wanted to - and that includes two Wal-Marts.  

 signage on glass gun cases at nearby Wal-Mart store

Last year while traveling in Canada, during a time when I was researching gun violence for a related article, I discussed at length the vast difference in gun control legislation there with my gun-owning uncle who all but spelled out how difficult it is to get one, much less multiple guns even as a “responsible” citizen. 

Based on categories of "prohibited", "restricted", and "permitted" guns in Canada, he informed me of legally mandated articles per gun type when applying for a permit: 

You must get references to apply, permits must state specific use of the weapon, and permit-checks are regularly enforced; there are rules for assembly, and double and triple lock storage and transportation; signed spousal agreement is required for guns to be present in the matrimonial home; mandatory courses in usage and safety procedures must be passed along with thirty to sixty day waiting periods before permits are issued for purchase; and, repeated psych-assessments are conducted to ensure you continue to be a responsible owner at licensing, and for every subsequent renewal. 

You cannot just openly carry weapons, nor is there a lifetime guarantee that you will be granted renewed permits to carry them.   And of course there is a logical list of people who just cannot get one at all - like the mentally ill, substance abusers, and domestic abusers. No free-for-alls there.  And how many mass/school shootings does Canada have? Far fewer than us!  And keep in mind they have a robust gun owning culture too - which makes them the best comparison for what the culture of prohibitive gun laws can prevent.  

Culture and Dangerous Optics

There is nothing new here. We know the numbers, we have over 300 million guns out there.  The threat of this was contextualized thoroughly in an important work made 16 years ago by Michael Moore after the Columbine shooting in Littleton, Colorado - which was the sister school of one of my best friends.  The heartlessness of years of disregard by our leaders after every school shooting since, (especially Sandy Hook - given the number and age of the victims) has left a nation nearly paralyzed in fear and confusion, feeling undervalued and helpless. I know I lost hope after Sandy Hook in particular - because it confirmed in a gruesome and dissonant way for me as an immigrant of color, that if little white children were treated as less valuable than gun sales, then these lobbyists and every old white guy official paid by them certainly cared nothing for anyone else in this country.  That incident alone showed the transcendence of their greed beyond any racial reasoning we often put on our many social troubles.  They value only their profits and no one else - which attacks the very mythology of exceptionalism they wish this nation to uphold.  And when you combine this with Trump’s bill reversing gun control measures for the mentally ill last February, in a nation that has, in the same 16 year period since Columbine, defunded mental health programs nationwide, we see how this has all run amok  - and there is nothing but absolute cruelty to blame this on. 

And the thing is, this isn’t only about being scared for your child being at risk of being killed. There is also the fear of your child  being the killer?! A frightening contention.  What about helping out those parents and family members, who certainly are not aided by an open market for weapons! The shooter in Florida was on watch lists, yet he was able to get weapons.  Conversely, this young man in our town was not on any watch lists, neither was he suspected by even his own friends!  No one saw it coming - except grandma.  I do not know his mental condition - compared with the Florida school shooter, as some may debate, but one thing is clear, he was disconnected and very angry.  And he was able to get advanced weaponry to work that anger out just as easily, because leadership failed again to make that difficult. 

And let’s look at that - we have a very young generation who sees through every promise society has broken.  

Leadership has failed to propose any new gun control laws much less getting any passed - after all these deaths - in every facet of our so-called free lives.  And in that time a whole generation has grown up knowing their leadership does not value their lives, our lives.  

When you teach kids this, then you say to them that they are powerless, and the more violent or angry among them unravel and reach with ease for weapons that give them what they think is power.  They fear nothing.  They have no innocent bubble to burst.  This is not only about immediate safety, this is about a deeply rooted cultural value for LIFE.  

Worst still, this culture exports, and can infect the thinking of children elsewhere who look to America as the arbiter of power in the world. 

As James Baldwin said:  “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.”

In any other context the NRA and organizations like them would be called a terrorist group or at the very least, sympathizers to terrorists.  In ANY other context. And this includes anyone in their profit stream - especially too as it pertains to jurisprudent action to support their function. But no, in the American context it is called a right as a citizen.  Touting the 2nd amendment alongside your semi-automatics makes you patriot.  

Gun violence in the name of ‘self-defense’ cannot be defended as a culture, it is a violent dogma that is ABSOLUTELY and murderously insane.  

The Youth Revolution of Safeguards

I would LOVE to see every student, teacher, and parent from coast to coast in this country take to the streets, ON A WEEK DAY, or a whole school week to march on their respective Capitols - LEAD by the YOUTH to scare the shit out of these assholes to change this madness. And it is coming. 

A nation of children marching in defense of their lives is the most powerful thing that can happen, and who can deny them this? These kids and educators cannot live this way, and parents should not be helpless and terrified to send their children to school. We should not be terrified to go out with our friends to see a movie, dance at the club, watch our favorite musicians on stage.  This is a sure way to sink this place into total incivility...into civil war.  Yes I will say that - again.

Congress and lobbyist thugs, if you will not protect the children of your nation, you will have not nation. This could actually be a moment when our NRA funded so-called President could create sound, enlightened, historical legislation in his dark destructive portfolio. As Dwight D. Eisenhower said: “A people that values its privileges above its principles soon loses both.”

This is an awful burden leaders have placed on the backs of their young. It is not fair to them, but these young, articulate, and impassioned teenagers are about to take this country back and they have their own leading voices to guide them. And, they will be old enough to vote soon.   

THIS MOMENT IS POWERFUL.
It is the most hopeful moment I have felt in years. 

Thank you #EmmaGonzalez, you brave #SoulJah

#StudentsDemandAction
#StudentsStandUp 

#WeCallBS 

#TimesUp

#thework

#theywontsleep

#midterms2018

#votethemout

#calledit

#castlestormers

#studentwalkout

#nationwide

#newgunlaws

#guncontrolinAmerica

#gunregulationsnow

Important sites: 
Moms Demand Action

Everytown for Gun Safety

Everytown Research 



Updates: 
Feb 20 - Guardian: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/feb/20/how-rightwing-media-is-already-attacking-florida-teens-speaking-out

#NeverAgain

illusive self is now alive!

Curating this show #illusiveSelf was an unforgettable experience to be expanded on when I stop moving around so fast.  The past 10 weeks since I was moving out of the NYC apartment have been so dense with experiences  that I have to accept that reporting fully on any of them will come way after - when I'm sitting still in Jamaica over the holidays...preparing for the last leg of this journey:  to Sierra Leone. 

But after all the hard work and challenges of this past week - the show is open and up, and the opening night was by all accounts a success!

For me the greatest rewards as curator are:

1) the artists are happy and feel proud of the show they are in.
2) the visitors sense the thematic continuity of the show and are intrigued, moved, and provoked by its content
3) the gallery director and other art professionals see a future in the concept and offer opportunities for expansion.

Well... Check.  Check. CHECK!!!

What more... what more could I possibly ask of God and Mother Universe for curatorial debut in New York City?  Nothing!   Well... hmmm... an NYT review would be nice...LOL

And now to packing, shipping, and preparing for the next show in Jamaica...as an artist... ;-)

Post by SeBiArt i•ma•gine | e•volve.

The Scary Business of New Beginnings...

They say you should do something that scares you everyday… Well, check!!

Moving they say is among the top traumas a person can experience, and prior to a couple weeks ago - this whole business of moving out and giving up everything I own was a great conversation piece that inspired only release and celebration...and zero fear.  Then suddenly one day recently, that all changed.  Everyday since has been an exercise in recalling the meditative and spiritual work of this year - and remembering to breathe.  The challenging asanas I've pushed myself in yoga all year to do, I call on now as practice in the asana of release.  Funny that I find myself clinging so tightly now just as I'm about to let go. 

I heard Rev. Bacon say in an interview with Oprah last week that change is like the tumult in a plane.  Pilots explain that when the craft is about to break through the sound barrier the cockpit shakes the most and the body of the craft is at its most unstable.  I love this.  Kind of like the constricting  trauma of the birth canal before air and light; but this new analogy is serving me right now. I'm breaking through the sound barrier - my apartment is the cockpit, and I'm wanting to grip for security before releasing to the cruising altitude on the other side.   Deep and interesting process to observe on a daily basis.  

I'm now at the 2 week mark and I FEEL my body poised and sharply focused on the task at hand.  There is not a single moment for renegotiation left.  It's do or bust. And I'm doing this most involved work WHILE preparing for immediate travel and 3 exhibitions!  Of course.  Hahaha.  But stoop sales are the biggest 'DO' right now and I don't particularly enjoy them because I feel like I'm in a fish bowl brandishing my panties for the world to stare at!  That said - I've been ushered prior into this process by the presence of friends and family so I could get my feet wet.


But unlike those other days where we've had mini impromptu stoop parties, today I had my first solo stoop sale and it was not only a real physical work out, but a true test of breathing away the histrionics, overcoming the fears and getting necessary work done.  I set this all in motion when I decided to release my life here in New York,  and so I have to go through these logistics - which are hardly as romantic as the reasons or the stories behind them. 
       
So...I didn't have the hand holding today that  my little heart yearned for, but such conditions yield deep spiritual truths about where to hold energy and how to stand in an exposed vulnerable space with your center in tact.  It's not easy watching people assess the worth of your belongings...that for you  are so rich with sentimental value.  But with each breath, I experienced the liberty that this entire move is ushering me towards.  And added to that, I was called and visited by sweet souls all day who delivered gems of deep encouragement for this soul work.  Even the guys in the clothing store across the street watched my stuff for me when I had to walk away or show someone my stuff for sale inside the apartment. It's remarkable how sweetly held I was by strangers and new neighbours and passersby who questioned and then celebrated my reasons for my move. It emboldened my sense of courage to continue, to sit in my fish bowl and get about the business of releasing my things, my emotional attachments, my fears, my ego...

These moments are the practice for when I am untethered and on my way to Sierra Leone at the end of the year.   This is the TRUTH right here.  Wow.  Yemaya. 

Humbled • Scared •  Determined • Grateful. 

For Trayvon Martin: In. The Hood. We. Will. Witness. Lives and Dreams.

A little over a year ago I collaborated with some friends to create levitating imagery as a first reaction to the news of Trayon Martin's untimely demise. The titles of each triptych portrait were part of a whole sentence: In The Hood We Will Witness Lives and Dreams. 

The idea stemmed also from what I have noticed and experienced in American culture especially - and painfully so - the attachment society has to limited, definitive emblems and symbols of a person, rather than to recognize 'the being', the character, the soul. To state repeatedly that we all have soaring dreams whether we live in 'da hood' or in a homogenized or insulated gated community, whether we wear a suit or a hoodie, is indeed a social conditioning that must be created and pressed consistently and actively into our collective psyche if such dangerous misconceptions are ever to change. We witness not only what unfolds before us, but we create what we witness, by bringing our perceptions to a scene, a conversation, or chance meeting.  If Zimmerman saw a child instead of perceiving a black gangster, Trayvon Martin may possibly have lived, or in fact benefited from his protection rather than to be hunted.

For the triptych works - I asked friends from mixed backgrounds and professions to pose for me in their hoodies for front and back portaits, and in levitating action sequences as a visual attempt to represent the static stereotype whilst actively transcending it.

A short film was also in development to accompany this that I'm hoping to complete by the end of the year.

If only we all remembered simultaneously that it's a simple shift in one's perception that can create huge change...just like the butterfly...

In. The Hood. We. Will. Witness. Lives and Dreams.

Via Flickr:

In. The. Hood. We. Will. Witness. Lives and Dreams., a set on Flickr.

Series Title:

In. The. Hood. We. Will. Witness. Lives and Dreams
A response to Trayvon Martin's misidentification...

Naked in the Shadow

The Shadow came and covered my place, my doorway, my face.  It was like having a solid steel block placed over my heart-space while I lay flat on a cold ground gasping for air.  

That damn persistent Shadow...

I have never stopped myself so consciously from writing before.  I never experienced so physically the effects of such mindful resistance.  I feel it now as I write.  

My whole life I've been told to write, or that I would inevitably be a writer.  I never wanted to accept such prophecy because it meant so many things that I somehow concluded would make my life a misery.  It meant I would be alone.  It meant I would never dance.  It meant I couldn't act. It meant I wasn't pretty enough.  I could never be a popular or fun person who attracted the company of other popular or fun people if I spent my whole day writing about all the crap that ran around in my head.  Funny - as nowadays none of these conditions hold my interest.  Well that's not entirely true.  But the recluse I feared I would be as a writer, is now actually how I choose to exist.  It's how I feel safe.  And now my head is full of thoughts that must come out - UNinterrupted.  Ha!  Isn't that it?  Writing is speaking your mind UNinterrupted?  

Anyway despite my resistance, -a lifetime of active resistance through a number of other activities and professions- I would still write.  Since the age of 6 I started writing...copiously.  And when the rush of thoughts would barrel through me, nothing could stop me from recording it.  Added to mounds of journals, I have so many napkins, internal book sleeves, and scrap papers with sentences, phrases, or whole passages scribbled on them.  I can't count how many draft documents I've typed, never written for public consumption mind you, just for the release I uncontrollably needed. 

In fact the only public consumption of my writing have been assignments in college, a mere handful of published essays and articles, and this blog.  I never tried to take it beyond that you see.  But in each of these instances, I was frightened when my work was well received.  The fright was that I made possible the prophecy of being a 'writer', and thus the Shadow that could rob me of the otherwise active life I thought I wanted.  

But this last month I felt suffocated in a way I never expected or experienced.  I would be sitting on my outside stoop or on the train, or doing some other activity when suddenly a rush of thoughts and words would come over me and through me.  I know this feeling so well and precisely how I've always reacted to it. But this time I would literally, consciously decide to let it slip away.  I would plant myself, sit it out,  STOP myself from grabbing a pen or running to the computer to write.  And that freaked me out.  It is freaking me out.  It's freaking my friends out too.  So much so that as I verbally explained this to one of them, my dear Vernice made me sit down immediately to write this in her presence to release myself...

So here I am, ...naked.

And here I will stay...embracing this prophecy.  Many thoughts have bubbled in this winter of introspection.  I was so still that if I wrote anything, it would be the only action and so...resistance. 
It seems awfully obvious now, and reveals me as a bit mad and slow on the uptake...but, of course I can do everything I've done before, just now it's time to openly embrace 'writing' as one of...  But on the way here, maybe it's okay, as Saul Williams said: "to throw away the pad and pen, and simply be the poem." Perhaps all this exploration has been to gather tales and living poetry to share; dispatches from a mad lab of endless searching for wholeness. 

Indeed.  And this search shall take me home, the reports of which will be shared through my lens and my pen.

Sierra Leone.  

It is time.

Sisyphean Struggles vs Overcoming like a Trojan

This is quite connected to the #MindtheGap philosophy that I am working my way back to. Here is a wonderful and accessible explanation for why we do what we do, and why we despair when it is no longer serving us...

Dan Ariely: What makes us feel good about our work?

Why "i•ma•gine | e•volve"

Art does for society what sports, physical feats, and various acts of heroism do for us - offering hope, catharsis, and dreams, in showing the spectator the full potential of the human when fear is overcome and the bankrupt notion of limitations is surpassed.

How then could this world ever do without art - when it evidently must be credited as the perpetual newborn release of imagination (womb of creation nurtured by hi[story], feeling, experience, and curiosity) which propels mutation, adaptation, innovation, expression from our hungry hearts, and thus the evolution of our species?

(this is an inspired general response to the constant funding cuts and downsizing of art initiatives worldwide as if deemed unimportant, and a further offer of what my logo tag is about...)

last page from my photo student project book- MMC 2001

SUPPORT POST: Death of the Diva

What is a diva?

Answer (from Wikipedia):

A diva (English pronunciation: /ˈdiːvə/, Italian: [ˈdiːva]) is a celebrated female singer. The term is used to describe a woman of outstanding talent in the world of opera, and, by extension, in theatre, cinema and popular music.

Okay.  So we know who those are - the far and few between who happen to be celebrated.  But we also know the new divas...the Kardashians, the Hiltons, or others who I can't name because frankly I just don't pay close enough attention.  

I'm not an avid TV viewer, I go for days, sometimes weeks without touching the clicker.  This wasn't always the case.  There was a time, back when television and cable programming had more 'original', and gasp (!), creative content, and less mind-numbing carnivals* showcasing the most base of human behavior under the heading 'reality'.

At the heart of this soul crushing content is not the celebration of women but the degradation of them.  And though many of us protested this shift that has now become the norm; the reality IS, that this demeaning content 1) entertains the masses, 2) catapults many a vapid being to undeserving supernova stardom from such spectacle, and 3) creates associations for all womanhood that serve more to undo the triumphs for equality and respect so hard won.  The new diva represents nothing of any progressive use, and so hurts those of us who have something inspiring, magnificent, or unique to offer. As performer/actor/DJ Amanda Seale (formerly known as Amanda Diva) aptly notes "we're put in this corner where I may have to be less than the woman my mother raised me to be".

This concern is at the heart of her new one-woman show now up in New York, Death of a Diva, directed by Roger C. Jeffrey.  Roger is a dear friend, past dance teacher of mine, and an accomplished dancer and choreographer.  He has deep social concerns for women, youth, racial inequities, and matters of the soul - he's a gapminder, who works always with superior talent.  So no surprise to me that he's a part of a most meaningful project written and performed by this accomplished female talent.  Seale's conscientiously written work tackles the attack on the image of women in all media and  appears to be every bit as heightened, intelligent, and damn funny in her performance.

Seale takes the stage this month offering ideas, and stories of the woman and the diva, through voices of multiple characters in this performance, each of whom will provoke thought and reopen active dialogue on what appears now to be a frighteningly passive issue.  This is too good, and too important to miss. I mean really, have we killed the diva?!

Amanda Seale's Death of a Diva plays:

March 23rd - April 1st 

at The Helen Mills Theater, NYC

135 West 26th Street (btw 6th & 7th Aves) 

Get Tickets HERE!!

Why do women look so silly on Reality TV?

Support Video:

March 5th, UPDATE:  

ADD'L Performance dates and Venues:

Sat 3/3: Death of the Diva at NCCU Durham, NC 7p

Tues 3/13: Death of the Diva FREE live sneak peak! 8-10p @ Bleu Violin (116/5th ave) spec perf by: Kimberly Nichole

Thurs 3/15: Death of the Diva FREE live sneak peak! 8-10p @ Free Candy

Fri 3/16: The Schomburg Museum presents: Theater Talks w/ Amanda Seales hosted by Elon James (Time TBD)

Mon 3/20: NYU for Women's History Month Events presents: Death of the Diva

*(for further reading that supports this gripe - please see my favourite article ever written on the matter: I'm A Culture Critic...Get Me Out of Here! by James Wolcott, Dec 2009)

Perceptions & People

You have a few assholes/morons out there to be sure. 

There are quite a few rude individuals as well. 

And then we have to exercise patience with a significant number of flakes -who are often misinterpreted as assholes/morons who are thoughtlessly rude. 

I say misinterpreted because the other groups earn such titles by displaying possessive and aggressive streaks often used offensively or defensively and with (sober or blind) intention. Flakes aren't like that - their heads are so far up their own asses or up in the clouds to muster aggression let alone direct it with purpose. Thoughtless yes - literally so, and definitely annoying as hell. But we should try to grant them some patience, and ourselves too; perhaps by detaching from our expectations of committed outcomes.

And finally, we have the MaJoRiTy - the well-meaning, well-doing, honest to god good folk. 

Does that sound crazy? That they're the majority...? Well...think about it - most people out there are decent beings and most of the time too! If it weren't so, this world and the order we have, and the expansive geographical areas of peace and safety that we can enjoy simply wouldn't exist. Fuckin' anarchy is what we'd have mate - EVERYwhere. And there's a lot to be said for perceiving the world this way. It makes you smile more and freak out less; makes you accept shifts and surprises more quickly than resisting them; you're more adaptable, detached, and decisive, rather than presumptuous, reactive and emotionally equivocal. The world for you is what you are for the world. You want to live your life through conflict, be a source of/for conflict.  You want equanimity and liberty, then offer that; be that. 'Be' what you want to 'see' what you want. It's just how it works... walk away from the rest. 

OWN Your Skin NOW

At last it feels right
No more struggle or fight
Evolving into me
Expanding beyond the deep


The meditation for the past few months, or years, well, my lifetime, is to actualize 'self', which creates such fulfilling connections with others, to keep opening and expanding the heart so as to lead the body with love. 


It is so important to learn how to be ourselves, and not a premeditated, planned out version of this...; and in being who we really are - being the beautiful imperfect beings that we are in every moment of 'now', will inevitably lead to the perfect expression of our essential selves, our inner most beauty, the core light that shines unobstructed and thus brighter from this 'letting'. 


It has taken (and is taking) a lot of time, focus, daring, and fight, ...constant conscious pushing... to grow into me, to grow into myself, to grow into my skin; to stop struggling with the fit as if it belonged to someone else or should belong to someone else, to evolve beyond an old idea that the fit was wrong or would never be a good enough, or worse - that it sometimes felt so itchy that I wanted to rip it off and cast it away. But alas, it is the perfect fit. We settle down don't we (?), and then every crevasse fills in snugly.  

Sweet exhale: Growing into self.  Growing into me. 


Mind the Gap note for today and always...
Be Yourself.  Everyone else is taken.
~Oscar Wilde

Beautiful Ironies

A persistent belief of mine, even in the most trying of times is that unexpected beauty in life shatters our monument to suffering.  When we experience an unlikely turn of events in the last minute of fitful desperation, or  witness a just reward for sacrificial work of an underdog, we cannot help but be inspired; yet to hold on to this inspiration requires a williingness to release the often irresistable need to hold blame.

While I've been busy in my little cocoon these past months, trying to figure out which way to turn next and how to get there with confidence and gratitude as my companions (because it's been a bit challenging to hold the road with them lately...) I have been slapped back to reality with three most inspiring and ironic things over the past days.

As we see a historic end to the Oprah Winfrey Show today (so many of us grew up with this woman-with-a-message, whether we watched all along or not), I tuned into one of her farewell shows last week, and she did me in AGAIN!!   It was a rainy, gloomy day and I was feeling particularly sapped of motivation - and boy did her show bring me to my senses.  She highlighted the lives of two incredibly 'unlikely' beacons of hope and true purpose (Oprah being one too, if we recall this billionaire's beginnings):  

Photo: Oprah Winfrey Website

Mattie J. T. Stepanek - Thirteen years young and centuries old in wisdom, this wheel chair bound prophet spent his very short life from the age of three, spreading messages of love, peace, joy, and delight with life.  A boy who had every reason to sing only woes of his very trying physical existence with muscular dystrophy, but chose (or was chosen) instead to guide his experience here on earth as one of consistent and constant gratitude and wonderment with life. He shared this message with millions through his writings, and by the end of his life, Mattie had 6 New York Times bestsellers of his poems and one of his essays.  He is currently being considered for sainthood!

 

See a short tribute clip of his life: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/A-Tribute-to-Mattie-JT-Stepanek

Your heartsong is your inner beauty.  It's the song in your heart that wants you to help make yourself a better person, and to help other people do the same. Everybody has one.

~Mattie J.T. Stepanek, 1990 - 2004~

photo: Oprah Winfrey Website

Dr. Tererai Trent, Ph.D. -  From a poor rural farming village in Zimbabwe and denied an education simply because she was girl, set her dreams of earning the highest academic credentials in the unimaginably distant United States of America.  She wrote these dreams on a piece of paper and buried them under a rock. Then proceeded to be challenged at every step - sold into marriage at 11 years old, mothering 4 children by the age of 20, being severely abused by a husband who refused her any space to learn anything let alone go to school. But she persevered against these impossible odds to see the suffix 'Ph.D.' follow her name.

Photo: Oprah Winfrey Website

I remember very well my father pointing to my brothers and the other boys in the village and saying: 'These are the breadwinners of tomorrow. We need to educate them. We need to send them to school. The girls will get married.'

~Tererai Trent~

See Tererai's story here: http://www.oprah.com/world/Tererai-Trent-Returns-to-Zimbabwe-to-Share-Her-Story-Video

Then, just yesterday we were given near unimaginable video footage to add to the unfolding shift in inspiring relationships in our world today, when Michelle and Barack Obama were greeted MOST ceremoniously by the Queen of England, complete with a 41 gun salute from antique muskets and canons by the Scottish Guard on the Buckingham Palace grounds.  I needn't wax on about the historical complexity of this image except to express my exact thoughts upon watching the footage - that seated at the 'highest' table were the most elite lineage of our collective  ancestors of slaves and slave masters toasting each other and their 'special' relationship in basically ruling the world.  I felt so awed, inspired, utterly amazed and filled by the meaning of this.  It's no small matter, and irrespective of how we may or may not feel about these people as individuals, this was a sight to behold and one that I know our parents and elders (regardless of race, culture, or social standing) would never have imagined, and unfortunately that my father, one of the first black Queens Counsel attorneys in England, never lived to see. And it got me thinking...

When people can no longer be blamed, or historical atrocities, past indiscretions, or other external circumstances can no longer utilized as reasons for the real or perceived inadequacies of our lives, it simply means we must now take real responsibility for what we dream of, where we invest our energies, and how we work to fulfill our purpose - our 'heartsong'. This is the paradoxical manifestation of desires fulfilled  - individually AND collectively; as the old adage cautions, "Be careful what you wish for..."  

One personal example of a wish, and embarrassing gripe: I keep wishing for money to purchase new camera so I can get on with my work.  But I already have a camera - it may be old, but it still works beautifully, so what do I think will change in my creative process by getting a new one??  It cannot be denied - I AM, we ARE starting at the same line of possibility each day we awake, and the attitude and energy we bring to it will determine how the race is run.  Funny how nothing could be more terrifying, or more exciting.  And how beautifully ironic.

For more footage of this, see BBC links below:

Obama toasts the Queen

The Queen toasts Barack and Michelle Obama

footage updates (may 26th) - Obama becomes the first US President to address the UK Parliament in Westminster, and was introduced most admiringly with the famous quote, so apt for this post and all the people spoken of here:

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." ~Abraham Lincoln

 

comment from youtube:

 "Great Speech. I am an American who lives in the UK and it feels so good not to have to apologize for my president anymore. President Obama has returned dignity, thoughtfulness and intelligence to his office."

Inconsistency of optional identities

Sometimes I feel like a shit photographer with just a bunch of 'great' ideas.

Sometimes I feel like a great photographer with either stupid ideas, 

     or worse, 

     NO IDEA.

Most times I don't feel like a photographer at all

Just a dreamer, a shapeless artist with intangible ambitions, 

     itching to move away from 'craft' 

     and more into seeing, 'be-ing', believing

Living with a childlike heart and precocious lust to rewrite the world 

     with the pen of my lens 

     to create a new vision

     or version

     of reality

Cuz sometimes this version sucks!

Pier @ 79th Street, near the Boat House Basin, New York City

Power to the People

Mass, en masse, united in purpose and a clear non-violent vision for change, and we mean change - 5000 years of one way, ...to a new way.  That's DEEP!  

These people have proved a most important philosophy to a world that often seems exhausted by or allergic to true activism.   Inspired by Tunisia's revolution, they now inspire the world with their demand for free expression.  

Photo Source: Travel Guide

Photo Source: Flickr

Congratulations to Egypt - Land of the Ancient Kingdoms, Land of the Pyramids, may you continue to beguile, seduce, and expand our minds with your mysterious history, and the enthusiastic valor with which you tread the path of your future. 

Photo Source: Travel Pod

NB.  I've posted this before, but Ben Okri's Lines in Potensis is I think a perfect toast to this historical moment.  (Thanks Sean for sharing this - it's never lost its potency for here it is again.)

The Ruling Valve

Performer: Crimson Heart Replica 

Does the wounded part of your heart direct your life, or do the wishes of the soft untarnished part race to create your experiences? People say life is short.  But I say life is long.  Think of how many memories you have, how many people you've met, how many disappointments you've moved past, how many surprises have tickled your outlook?  And just think how many more of those are ahead.  Every aspect of life, major or minor, in every place you have lived, every job you've had, every failing or successful result from any effort, every person - asshole or angel, stranger, family member, or friend, has shaped and reshaped your choices for your life,  the lessons you've learned, and how you feel about yourself and others...in short your identity...your heart.  

Our hearts get molded and recolored over and over again, but over the course of this long LONG journey we start to see and feel a graphic pattern of our ruling valve; the one that shapes our perceptions of this journey.  Does your ruling valve restrict flow to protect the whole heart from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune*?  Or does it pump energetically and openly, absorbing those arrows with an enduring life flow of wonderment and delight?  We all know the latter creates ease, and the former creates pressure...and with enough of the former, follows an inevitable implosion of explosive destruction.  That valve would restrict any inclination for open exploration, including the idea that seeking to remain innocent is life affirming, rather than emotional suicide.  

Like most people, my valves work in shifts, and as I get older I restrict myself more frequently - which always comes about from

fotos © Monique MOGI Gilpin

fear of a myriad of things, including fear of wanting good things for myself. But my ever dreaming childlike valve keeps screaming to reign supreme.  I breathe better by searching for fair perspectives in things; mercy and forgiveness  amidst negativity, acceptance of the inexplicable or indelible hurts, and the insistence in dancing on common ground with myself and everyone I share space and time with.  Yes there are some serious assholes out there, and real life challenges to contend with, but I feel we must understand that those who behave like assholes are simply people who are emotionally restricted by fear; and that the mental and physical work required to overcome personal conflicts or life challenges are better sustained with an open flow of positive energy (if even at a distance), than by use of suffocating anger or despairing restrictions of the heart.

What you are choosing at this precise moment is what is ruling your life at present.  But life is long, so there's time, now - if there's a need - to change your ruling valve.  What you feel, is how you live. It's your heart, no one can break it, build it, or open it more completely than you. 

* from Shakespeare's Hamlet, III.i., To be, or not to be, - sililoquy
 

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Crimson Heart Replica: Beautiful Mistake

"My music is my natural instinct, an illustration of immense emotion bleeding out from passionate hearts and souls." ~CHR 

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To all my peeps who keep my ruling valve open. 

♡♡♡

"Sonnet 29" - Performed by  Rufus Wainright, Clips from Pride & Prejudice:

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

--William Shakespeare

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RELATED JOURNEY POSTS:   Warm Light and Love (AUG 2010)

                         I Broke Up With Self-Sabotage...(JUNE 2010)