In honor of Sakagawea

In honoring and exploring....and notice the t-shirts of everyone. In editing in post these stood out :)

Also as every impressed with these guys.

www.clenchedfistproductions.com

Obama in Cameroon is like spots on a blank panther

cell phone screens just where it started


















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to Charles Mintz

if I could say something in honor of you it would be thank you

For always believing I can achieve my potential
For pushing that nothing comes before family
That you and grandmas love is everlasting

i appreciate your aptitude

For being critical and challenging one's self and mind
For demanding the hot soup you rightfully deserve
For trying to support and understand my ways and our families when they naturally conflicted with your aged beliefs of life as you had known it
And respected the challenges and change of the world you experienced and importantly how you watched us go through in our personal best approaches and navigation

you are forever my inspiration

To lead as loving and full and hardworking of a life I can
Always placing family at my core

i love you

And through my tears of longing to sit and talk with you for hours
I am deeply happy for you. That you led a very long and full life
And are now back with grandma where you belong.

A

postive hip hop making change world over

Festival International de Hiphop et de Cultures Urbaines Dakar Senegal
5 édition 18 - 27 Juin 2010
Contact:
festa2hfestival@googlemail.com

myspace.com/festa2hfestival
MATADOR

as a blond in guatemala

And on the bus ride out of the business capitol to the government capitol my stomach is tightening, my body alive, erect, pushing from every pour as if it is trying to reach out to this intangible reality outside of myself. This, something to experience on the first bus to Xela from Guatemala city. Everything is the same because we are all humans love, life, water, shelter, food, anger, hope.

But here there is no blending in for me to experience silently. My ach as I take in faster then i know what to do with. As I can only allow it to wash over me and swallow me in to be saturated, confused at peace and smiling.

In Guate the illusion of my physicality placed me as local but from the capitol city, unless I opened my mouth.(until later when English was not my regularly used tongue and I could fully own my disguise if I wanted). Here no cover.

The sun is not so strong yet and everything looks brown. Even the things brightly painted are dim in the light. Just the bright foliage stands out. It could be after my two weeks in Senegal where I saw almost no foliage except my last day when I went with Isodore to the island of his aunts home. The island was where all of the slaves were shipped from and the quarters had remnants in the space that left me like when staying in Terizine (holding camp for the jews to be shipped to Auschwitz). Their were more Hawks then I have ever seen, coasting in the strong high winds. That afternoon out of Dekar was the most beautiful, on the water after a night of dancing at a club until 5 in the morning. I only took rests from the hips swaying to watch the mens hands on the drums. Overwhelming me and those dance moves, dress and my company. It made me truly alive. I thought to all my dancing ladies and how happy they too would be.

love the wool pants weather

On the road again. This time in the states. The sun has come up and nothing but snow covered factories, lakes towns and bridges pass by my train window. I am directed back to NY after, never enough time with my grandfather and family. He is such a beautiful being. One morning I woke before him and before his nurse arrived, meaning 6 am I was up. He caught me as I wondered past his door to brush my teeth and sent me for water for him. I sat on the edge of the bed and we talked about all the family stages that have passed, represented in the images on his walls. And I just looked over at him, appreciating him, so pleased when he relaxed into his smile or laughter of a memory or abstract thoughts about my life he likes to mention with proudness in his voice. Behind him are individual portraits of his mother, his father, him as a soldier and grandma as the nurse, must have been the time period when they met. At 97, 8 years waiting to join Grandmas side again, he is still the intellectual of always but confined by the vessel more now. Family comes in to town to join everyone already here and we spend a glorious afternoon together. Smiles, clothing exchanging and a bit of football viewing.
Snow so much snow. Feet on the ground blowing and balancing on the bodies of the trees angles from the strength of the wind over time and on the top of the heads of trees that hold pine needle or anything else that can survive this weather and sticks around.
Grandparents engagement story…
Grandpa was fighting in the world war and was injured. At this time there were women employed by Red Cross as well many volunteers who would run around dong many things. The soldiers on Charles floor got together some money to buy a women employee a gift to show her how much her work meant to them. They gave the collected money to a volunteer to buy roses while she was out. The women did not return. After some time Charles went as the rep to find out what they could about the women who had disappeared with the money. The answer the grunt of my grandfather was Toby… Surely she proved herself the calming spirit she is to calm my grandfather from the Bronx when making a complaint. After a couple weeks passed in the hospital, he asked her for a date. They dined and he proposed on that first date. She was catching a train home for the holiday break and told him she would tell him after talking with her parents. The answer was yes. I would like to thank the women who ran off with the money they all collected, a mitzvah without meaning to.