After the Mayflower/ We Shall Remain

 It is amazing!!! PBS did it !! "We Shall Remain represents an unprecedented collaboration between Native and non-Native filmmakers and involves Native advisors and scholars at all levels of the project."I only watched "After the Mayflower". It is about Massasoit's dream of peace between the Wampanoags and English! It was a noble and humane decision to help the pilgrims. The alliance maintained some kind of peace.

However after his death, his son "Metacomet-Philip" has to deal with a new generation of English leaders.My favorite part is when Phillip as new Chief of Wampanoags remind the English that his people showed them mercy when they were weak. It was so powerful and painful...King Phillip was killed defending his land. And his 9 years old son was sent to the West Indies as a slave...

Beyond the dreaming of peace and strategic alliance, Massasoit's compassion must be remembered... 
It is a "must watch" in the American Experience series.
Same Moonlight for our Dreams.

Here  a passage from the episode:

"Jonathan Perry, Aquinnah Wampanoag:

After Philip was shot by Alderman, they dismembered his body.

The scarred right hand of Philip was given to Alderman as a trophy of the war. His parts were strewn about

the colonies, spread to the four corners.

Colin G. Calloway, historian: This is a warning to other people, to other Indian people. This is what the

English will... this is how the Enlish will deal with rebellion, deal with treason. And remember that in English

eyes Philip was a traitor -- and this was the punishment meted out by 17th century Englishman to traitors.

Narrator:

Massasoit's son was dead and scattered, but the colonists were taking no chances; they captured

Philip's son and heir -- a nine-year-old boy -- and locked him in a jail in Plymouth. While English authorities

deliberated on whether to sell the boy into slavery, or simply murder him, the Puritans gave thanks to their

God.

Jill Lepore, historian: And the final day of thanksgiving, of the war, is the day Philip's head is marched into

Plymouth. This decapitated head on a pole, its erected in the center, in the center of town and is cause for a

great celebration.

Narrator: They wouldn't take it down, Philip's head. For two decades -- while Philip's son lived in slavery in

the West Indies -- the head was displayed in Plymouth, a reminder to the Indians about who was in charge; a

reminder to the English that God continued to smile on their endeavor.

Colin G. Calloway, historian: 

It's hard to see how conflict could have been avoided and how the outcome of that war could have been different. Looking at the generation before this war, there is at least a moment,

where things were different."

The parent, a samurai in this global economic hardship

"KATAOYA"

LE PARENT

Calligraphie de Kyoko Mori

This Economic hardship hurts companies, businesses, employees, homeowners, marriages, families, students, everyone in between and of course our children. The lack of job, loss of job, expensive education and reduced opportunities exacerbate the stress for everyone.

It is a global  economic hardship, even if we only see our side of the garden. In our mind the grass is always greener the other side. Our realities or struggles are blessings and successes for someone somewhere else.  Of course we must have the “audacity to hope”. Besides we must be active because audacity is not enough for our children. They need our legacy, to think of audacity , to hope and dream of better. 

            My word today is parent. A parent has to be loving, ferocious, and rebel to protect, feed, love, and educate children. In this global community, all parents face the same struggles and fears. We all want to achieve something and nurture our children to be strong individuals that will benefit to the world. And secretly we want them to simply enjoy life and cherish their childhood.

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

 Artist: Luís Noronha da Costa

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Les Mystérieuses Cités d’or (太陽の子エステバン, Taiyō no ko Esteban-The Mysterious Cities of Gold

“Les Mystérieuses Cités d'Or” is Japanese-French animated series. It was on TV in the late 80’s when we moved to France. It is a fabulous journey set in 1532.  The series describe the adventures of Esteban, a young Spanish boy who travels to the New World in search of the lost Cities of Gold and his father. I introduced them to our son this weekend as  “a super cool cartoon in French”.

However, the truth is that I want him to learn about the Mayan, Inca, and Olmecs. This cartoon perfectly mixes archaeology, lost technological wonders and science fiction. I want him to be exposed to another version of “the story” about Native Indians and Native Americans Indians. It is an attempt to expand his view on “Thanksgiving” without feeding prejudices or stereotypes. Esteban was Spanish and he befriended Zia (an Incan girl) and Tao (the last descendant of the sunken empire of Mu). Well check it out, DVDs were released in North America on April 7, 2009. According to rumors: “ A film version of the story is to be produced by the Movie Plus Group. On Chibi Japan Expo in Paris, Jean Chalopin announced that three new seasons of 26 episodes are planned with a release starting in 2011.” Legends or not, there are many stories!! I hope that our son will remember that every culture is wealthier than “ the seven cities of Gold”. 

This is my “Culturally Relevant Teaching" of the weekend!

Education is a collective rebellion against the status quo.
We are all distant relatives. Thanks to you all…

Same Moonlight for our dreams.

Foundation of the week- There Is No Limit Foundation

 There Is No limit foundation
Guinea is in the news lately please check out this foundation. 
Thank you!!!

Mystere et suspens by Fonky Family

Fonky family his an old French Hip-Hop group from Marseille. Here for full lyrics. It is about life with a tiny dose of melancholy. It is universal!!! Today, this song made me realized that when we are young; hate, rage and fear are our main catalyzers. Love validates that we are worthy of being. Then with the years, we get to love our pain, accept our fears, understand our rage and hate fades away.  I realized that "I'm going where life takes me Where my feet take me " but I must own my journey and  keep on walking the walk with my very own style. Here a great quote from Verghese in Cutting for stone:" The key to your happiness is to own your slippers, own who you are, own how you look, own your family, own the talents you have, and own the ones you don’t. If you keep saying your slippers aren’t yours, then you’ll die searching, you’ll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more. Not only our actions, but also our omissions, become our destiny.”
Let's respect our differences and just be the masters of our destiny...
Same Moonlight for our dreams.



"Refrain :
J'vais là où la vie m'mène
Là où mes pieds m'traînent
J'viens d'là où les gens disent tous emmerder l'système
Peu importe la manière forte ou douce
Chacun essaie de survivre conscient qu'on y reste tous
J'vais là où la vie m'mène
Là où mes pieds m'traînent
J'viens d'là où les gens disent tous emmerder l'système
Croire en l'argent s'en trop voir le respect qu'il dégage
Puiser la force dans l'amour la haine la peine ou la rage"

"Chorus:I'm going where life takes me 
Where my feet take me 
I am from  where people say fuck  the system 
No matter how.Strong  or gentle 
Everyone tries to survive aware that we all gone die  
I'm going where life takes me 
Where my feet take me  
I am from  where people say fuck  the system 
Believe in money without  seeing any  respect coming out from it 
Drawing the power from  love, hate ,pain or rage "

Invictus by William Ernest Henley

Invictus by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


According to the story, he wrote that poem following the amputation of his foot due to tubercular infection. I was hoping for different story... ....This poem  is all about resilience. As passionate and defiant he sounded, the acceptance of his fate must have freed his soul. I am  also the master of my fate and the captain of my soul. And I accept that only change is constant . However I still cannot believe that tuberculosis did initiate this powerful poem!

Artsy peeks: Foo Hong Tatt

Website here.

Enjoy..

Gilbert, the Surfer Dude by Diane Degroat (Author, Illustrator)

I really want to thank Diane Degroat for this book!!! We are working on reading fluency with out loud reading. While reading this book my second grader was happy and laughing.Priceless...
His verdict: "Awesome!! Reading is so fun!"
Yeah....Yeah..Mission accomplished.
Thank you Diane Degroat for "Gilbert,the Surfer Dude"
Even at the age of DS,XBOX and Ipod, nothing can replace a good book.

"This I Can Read Book in the Gilbert and Friends series does its job. It’s short, amusing, and will keep kids reading. Gilbert and family are on their way to the beach when Gilbert remembers that he forgot something—his bathing suit. He insists on wearing his new trunks that say Surfer Dude, even though they’re too big. Surfing and oversize trunks can only lead to one thing. Adults will see it coming, but new readers probably won’t. They’ll enjoy looking at the seaside doings in the friendly art while they sharpen their reading skills. Grades K-2."

FreeReading: an open source reading program

I like this website. I love it!!! It is simple and clear. It is used by educators in all 50 states and in over 160 countries.It is a blessing for English as a Second Language Parents.We are on board!! Yes we can. It is free. It is FREE!
"FreeReading Intervention A is the first open-source instructional program to be approved through an official state adoption. The state of Florida recently approved FreeReading as a supplemental reading program that state schools may use during the 2008-2009 school year. To learn more about FreeReading and the advantages of the program, click here."

Reading fluency norms for linguistically diverse

  Once again it is about the struggle between "diversity", "norms" and "standards". It is obvious that  linguistic diversity  impacts the practice of speech ,articulation, language, and fluency. While I was reading on "linguistically diverse populations". I finally understood why, US born children can be labeled as English Language Learners(ELL)!!!Well here it is: "Frequently linguistically diverse individuals/public school students are classified or referred to as “Limited English Proficient”(LEP)/English Language Learners (ELL). These are individuals who are learning or have learned to speak, understand, read, and/or write English as a second or other language, even though they may have spent a number of years in an English speaking environment."  here.  So your LEP child is a ELL only when you disclose that he has learned to speak and understand another language.Voila..disclosing or not a reading gap will expose any exposure to foreign languages. And it is emotional for every children, LEP or ELL...

As a current simultaneous, sequential bilingual parent and  ELLish/LEPish student; I understand the pain  that comes with  non-fluency  and fluency norms. I was that child that would stare and just do instead of talking. I was that child  mixing languages and dialects while reciting a poem in front of the class. I would fight by not answering in the correct language to my parents so they would understand my pain. Linguistically diversity is a blessing that comes with a curse at the beginning!! Fluency building strategies are out there but the secret is patience. Be patient, everybody makes it  regardless of the norms.Here a comforting article for bringing up bilingual children.

Bilingualism is normal. Millions of children are growing with more than one language.However having to perform accordingly to the norm is not normal for linguistically diverse. It is normally intimidating. We are reading slow but reading, and speed will come along. Diversity is good, fluent or not.

Below the famous chart...so fluid...oh yeah...Reading is fun!

2006 Hasbrouck & Tindal Oral Reading Fluency Data

Grade	Percentile	Fall WCPM*	Winter WCPM*	Spring WCPM*	Avg. Weekly Improvement**
1	90 75		81 47	111 82	1.9 2.2
	50		23	53	1.9
	25 10		12 6	28 15	1.0 0.6
2	90 75	106 79	125 100	142 117	1.1 1.2
	50	51	72	89	1.2
	25 10	25 11	42 18	61 31	1.1 0.6
3	90 75	128 99	146 120	162 137	1.1 1.2
	50	71	92	107	1.1
	25 10	44 21	62 36	78 48	1.1 0.8
4	90 75	145 119	166 139	180 152	1.1 1.0
	50	94	112	123	0.9
	25 10	68 45	87 61	98 72	0.9 0.8
5	90 75	166 139	182 156	194 168	0.9 0.9
	50	110	127	139	0.9
	25 10	85 61	99 74	109 83	0.8 0.7
6	90 75	177 153	195 167	204 177	0.8 0.8
	50	127	140	150	0.7
	25 10	98 68	111 82	122 93	0.8 0.8
7	90 75	180 156	195 165	202 177	0.7 0.7
	50	128	136	150	0.7
	25 10	102 79	109 88	123 98	0.7 0.6
8	90 75	185 161	199 177	199 177	0.4 0.5
	50	133	151	151	0.6
	25 10	106 77	124 97	124 97	0.6 0.6

Quotes from "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera

Milan Kundera is Czech. I like his humor, his soft and dry philosophy. This  book is about "the fragile nature of the fate of the individual and theorized that a single lifetime is insignificant in the scope of Nietzsche's concept of eternal return because in an infinite universe, everything is guaranteed to recur infinitely." I like it because it does fit my ideas of everlasting renaissance, life as a double-infinite sequence of bridges.
Enjoy!

• "Everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out is mute. Only chance can speak to us. We read its message much as gypsies read the images made by coffee grounds at the bottom of the cup."  

• "Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves."

• "for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes."

• "The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?"

• "But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave." 

• "Dreaming is not merely an act of communication (or coded communication, if you like); it is also an aesthetic activity, a game of the imagination, a game that is a value in itself. Our dreams prove that to imagine--to dream about things that have not happened--is among mankind's deepest needs. Herein lies the danger. If dreams were not beautiful, they would be quickly forgotten."

• "There is no perfection only life"

The translator: a tribesman's memoir of Darfur By Daoud Hari

A great video of Daoud Hari explaining Darfur-here

"The young life of Daoud Hari—his friends call him David—has been one of bravery and mesmerizing adventure. He is a living witness to the brutal genocide under way in Darfur.

The Translator is a suspenseful, harrowing, and deeply moving memoir of how one person has made a difference in the world–an on-the-ground account of one of the biggest stories of our time. Using his high school knowledge of languages as his weapon—while others around him were taking up arms—Daoud Hari has helped inform the world about Darfur. Hari, a Zaghawa tribesman, grew up in a village in the Darfur region of Sudan. In 2003, this traditional life was shattered when helicopter gunships appeared over Darfur’s villages, followed by Sudanese-government-backed militia groups raping and murdering citizens and burning villages.

Though Hari’s village was attacked and destroyed, he was able to escape and lead survivors to safety. When international aid groups and reporters arrived, Hari offered his services as a translator and guide. He risked his life again and again, for the government of Sudan had outlawed journalists in the region, and death was the punishment for those who aided the “foreign spies.” And then, inevitably, his luck ran out and he was captured. . . .The Translator tells the remarkable story of a man who came face-to-face with genocide– time and again risking his own life to fight injustice and save his people." from here

Oblivion of Darfur for Gold

According to MININGREVIEW.COM, “Sudan has signed 10 exploration deals for gold, iron ore and other minerals… Mining minister Abdel Bagi al-Jaylani told Reuters that the exploration deals were with Sudanese companies and four international companies from Saudi Arabia, India, Great Britain and China, to search for copper, lead, iron, zinc and gold.” It sounds so simple!!!

Southern Sudanese independence Referendum will take place on January 2011. Knowing that the South has an estimated of 6 billion barrels of oil reserves, gold digging in the North is the best next thing!! Then in 2011, Sudan is expected to sign 50 mining agreements in three Darfur states-“Kassala and Gedaref in the east, and the north-south border region of South Kordofan”. It is simple, isn’t!

I would love to know if the zealous companies will take environmental issues in consideration. While Sudan is suffering from inadequate supplies of potable water, soil erosion, desertification, and droughts, I hope that they will not insult local populations by using scarce water or poisonous chemical cyanide and accidentally over pollute the Nile. The hydropolitics in the Nile basin is complicated and affect regional and global welfare.Another well orchestrated oblivion profiting gold diggers. It is not about secular southern Sudanese versus theocratic state in northern Sudan but about power. Independence... separation... Save Darfur…For more go on the  Enough project. And pray for rain and peace in South Kordofan and Blue Nile states...

Same Moonlight for our Dreams

Ylang-Ylang from the Comoro Islands: The islands of the Moon.

Ylang-ylang is a flower that soothed my childhood. I can still smell Passion Flower oil or coconut  oil infused with ylang ylang. In Tagalog, ylang-ylang means "flower of flowers." Like I said in a previous post, until I turned 7 years old, I strongly believed I was a native of Comoro Islands. When,I moved to Europe , I realized that my friends were right. I was one of them but I was not from there.I lost my comorian (Shikomor) by the time I turned 9 years old. 

French perfumery  like Guerlain as well as Dior used this flower in many of their signature fragance.Ylang-ylang (Cananga odorata) is the key element of many perfumes because it binds  the ingredients and spikes the senses. Ylang-ylang is like "love", it binds all the elements in life and spikes the senses.  I always smell my dear ylang-ylang in perfumes. It is a mesmering mix of luxurious jasmine, bright bergamot, and orange blossom with a really specific grounding scent that calms. It always comforts me. Even if I am not from there,  I  have a little of Comoro Islands in  me and I belong there. 

Besides I just found out that "Early Arab traders, named the Comoro Islands qumr, a name derived from qamar, or moon. Initially, this name was applied to Madagascar, then to the four Comoro Islands as a group." So fate and destiny made me who I am today. And under the same  moonlight in my island Ajouan, Ndzuwani: I did dream of  many adventures and journeys. 

Same Moonlight for our dreams.

Peace and Love.

The Infidel by Josh Appignanesi and David Baddiel

It is a funny British comedy on faith,culture, and identity. I love it!!! Here the plot!!"An identity crisis comedy centred on Mahmud Nasir, successful business owner, and salt of the earth East End Muslim who discovers that he's adopted - and Jewish."  I love the fact that you see the other side of all the stereotypes  with tons of humor and cursing. Nobody chose a birth place or parents. We all are born somewhere, raised somewhere, and try to grow somewhere. If you lucky you have many friends from different cultures,spirituality,traditions, faith and religions. Really funny movie!

Activist of the week: Rokhaya Diallo boycotting Guerlain

 I know that this video is in French and many of you do not understand. However, the intensity of the conversation does not need any translation. Again it  is not about Guerlain in the current  racism controversy. It is is about the disregard, the condescension and that "French Patronizingly superior behavior " toward Africans. I am a negress, and I am proud of it. The word does not offend me but the depreciation, the disdain, and the arrongance are worst that the word. I love this video because it displays the disfunctional relationships we have in France.And Rokhaya Diallo was able to talk trough by fighting back with humor and diplomacy. Inside, it burns , it hurts and it stinks as much as Guerlain nigger bomb. It is almost a catch-22 because you must be an accomplice to act on that stage if you want to be heard. In the same time, the complicity is destroying your soul in both side.Nevertheless, we all must do  what we can.Thank you Rokhaya Diallo!!! You rock! Merci!

African fabric online Hidden Treasures

The website is Welcome to Harlem's Hidden Treasures!!! It is $7.5 the yard.!!I like it!
My wish list, perfect for scarves, sarong or kanga. I might order 1.5 yard for a kanga.

Unreal collision of feminism and extremism to apoptosis

In France, the Burqa will be officially ban in Avril, 2011.  Yesterday, a retiree teacher was condemned to one month of jail suspended sentence for pulling out the Burqa of a lady from the emirates(26 years old!!!). And this passionate sexagenarian feminist will have to pay 800 euros fine. As much as the government preaches a secular elitism on human rights, it is a theatrical masquerade. It is a pure farce worthy of Moliere himself.  Bright and loud fireworks are much easier to handle than real problems of racial discrimination, economical marginalization and unemployment. I do respect the desire of  secularism but where is the equality, liberty, fraternity  stands in this denial of  rights.  I applaud this skillfully exploited situation. 

Attacking women is the oldest trick in the book because women are the motor of civil rights. They are quiet, soft and gentle but transmit the fire within. By destroying their freedom to practice their religions, it will accentuate the generation gap and the lack of “real” identity in youth. The youth is already battling the invisibility and a disregarded struggle in integration. And if you add the gender role on top, it is an excellent prey to predators and apoptosis. The suicide within the communities is a response to the forced mutation...Now, that the necrosis starts to expand only extremism can accelerate the required apoptosis. It is all about fear. It is not about the veil, the burqa, the miniskirt, the bikini or feminism. The Islamic dress code is a lame excuse. It is about our children. 

The oppression on women creates a less stable environment for them to transmit a peaceful fire to their children. For the longest time, forcing integration was enough to guarantee cultural fragmentation or silent ethnocide. The ban on Burqa expresses the polarization of France. And the sexagenarian feminist of the day was compelled to identify and separate her from us. It is an unreal collision of feminism and extremism to apoptosis. To conclude, I  will quote Arthur Rimbaud: “Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.”and Septima Poinsette Clark , “The greatest evil in our country today is not racism, but ignorance.”  

They are us. We are them. Different but the same.

Same moonlight for our dreams

Knitting for therapy...

I do believe in constructive addiction. That is why I love to cook and bake. Cooking and baking is therapeutic but overindulging is not! Homemade bread requires tons of cheeses. However knitting is calories free and calming.The repetitive rhythm, the touching and the feeling  permit to zone out. Yes,You can reach  a mindless bliss. In my opinion, it is not a granny's thing. It is an artsy,crafty, and  meditative therapy. Besides, it is calories free and it does satisfy my love for scarves.  At the end, I will get a homemade fabulous scarf with tons of personal touches!!! So far knitting is so Zen..
Yes, now it is out!! I am knitting!A special Thank you to my teacher:)

“Taking pictures with our eyes”

(This one was posted on June 21,2010)
Yesterday, it was World Refugee Day! I am the child of refugees. So I grew up with an unspoken consent that I could not complain because I was safe and alive. Our parents always reminded us that everything is relative. That we needed to know what is real. And focus on what matters. Life is a precious gift and you can lose everything in an instant.Consequently super expensive accessories, gadgets, or any overpriced clothes are unnecessary. They often reminded us that at the end, all you have it is your family and friends. And their care and love are priceless. In real time of need, money is useful but worthless. In such time you will crave a reassuring smile, and genuine compassion.

We were lucky to inherent their urgency to strive for better. Our mother did teach us to “take pictures with our eyes” and save them in our hearts. She told us that each time we are experiencing happiness; we should take a good look and save it in our hearts. And in dark days we could go back to such memories to lift our spirit and feel like home.  In my heart, I am wealthy with millions of priceless happiness tags. They often make me laugh or cry of happiness. I also did teach my child to “take pictures with his eyes”. Thank you Maman!!!

Same moonlight for our dreams

 Comoros Beach  Uploaded on April 27, 2006 by little geoff

Mika Mendes -Expressa Amor

One last song  from Mika Mendes-Expressa Amor. One of  my favorite love song.
Peace and love...

Paulo Tavares feat. Mika Mendes - Sensualmente

Kizomba,Cabo or Zouk pick a name... This is my one a day supplement up to three a day in cold weather. It is like a sunshine for your ears that warms your mood, and frees your mind. Enjoy Sensualmente from Paulo Tavares!If you like it, I have a playlist on you tube. Enjoy..

Zen: images,texts and teachings by Miriam Levering.

Among our many pursuits, we are all wondering how to find contentment and peace. This book is an illustrated selection of “the Gateless gate” and “the Ox-herding pictures” with verses. Dr Miriam Levering wrote “This book is intended as an introduction to the enigma and subtle harmony of Zen and as a contemplative aid for the lay reader.”  However my favorite quote is on page 12“ Verse has long been vitally important in Zen, As Truths that cannot be expressed in doctrine or prose can be hinted at in poetry.” After this sentence I was hooked on Zen.   I also found out that the sky is an image of the uncluttered nature of the “awakened mind”-aware of spirituality and oneness with the universe. Also the Moon represents one’s enlightened true nature!!! This definitively explains my fascination with the Moon!! And the attainment of enlightenment is the realization of one’s true nature! According to Wikipedia, “The aim of Zen practice is to discover this Buddha-nature within each person, through meditation and practice of the Buddha's teachings. The ultimate goal of this is to become a Completely Enlightened Buddha” Just cruise through the book and take any fruitful inspiration. It is a perfect combination that appeases the mind and cajoles the imagination.It is Zen.

Thank you dear friend for this book...

Same Moonlight for Our Dreams

On Zazen Pratice page 34

The Moon abiding in the midst of serene mind;

billows break into light.

Dogen (1200-1253)

Rokia Traore - Kounandi

Rokia Traoré is a singer from Mali. She from the Bambara ethnic group. It is peaceful and magical.
I do not understand the lyrics..just a sweet melody. Enjoy!

A Race for Biodiversity in our “Green” Global Economy

According to this article, the U.N. Convention on Biodiversity meeting, Nagoya-Tokyo, was “fairly” harmonious regardless of the failure to reach consensus on vital contentious problems. In clear, it was a smooth progression from Copenhagen’s theatrical fiasco however this buzzing “green greed” did prevail over certain devastating consequences of biodiversity loss. The author, Malcom Foster reports that the crucial point was “the division between developing and industrial nations over working out a system to fairly share genetic resources, such as medicine extracted from plants — long a sore point for poorer countries.” Thank you Mr. Fisher!!!
It is cynical that modernization is at the source of all our problems. It was supposed to fix everything. We were supposed to work less, so we could live more and relax more. Instead, we want more for less, then take more and give less. In the process, we forget that Earth has the monopole of our economy!! Remember: Dirt! “Dirt is us, we are dirt. Dirt is earth’s skin. “This is a living breathing matrix of life on terrestrial earth.” Indeed we are dirt. Beyond the ideals of a green revolution, we are dirty guilty.
It is great to craft diplomatic protocols to fix and share responsibility. However, I do agree with the argument of developing countries and indigenous about not profiting from the bounty of their resources that benefited wealthy western companies. The contribution of billions in the name of biodiversity conservation is noble. Nevertheless, the extinctions of local economies by imposing legal dependency to developed countries at the expenses of developing nations’ biodiversity landscapes are slightly confusing. Dirty, dirty…
May we all win in this race for biodiversity…

Artsy Peeks

SPIKE WALKER 

Sensory nerve fibres 

"This image highlights the basket of nerve fibres at the end of a hair follicle. Sensory nerves allow us to detect stimuli such as movement, pressure and pain. Light micrograph"

 

Breast Cancer Cells by Breast Cancer Cells by Annie Cavanagh

Wisdom Whispers: Less is More

Less is More.

The less you want the more you get! 

Same Moonlight for our Dreams

Rocca - Les jeunes de l'univers

This one is for my brother!!! It is from 1997, a classic french hip hop song about hope. This song is universal. I was eighteen, I wanted to explore the world then build a better one.I believed that I was the master of my  destiny no matter the obstacles.This song said everything: I felt and I wanted to hear. It captures the malaise within the forgotten, and the hunger for change. Today, our son is seven and he understands the lyrics. He said: One love, I represent, we represent!! It is priceless. I realized that I can only offer a tiny contribution to the change. However to insufflate hope is  powerful. I am the master of my destiny and I have some many places to explore. Enjoy!!



Some translation. 
I believe in myself ... in you ... the future is in our hands
 And nothing should be able to cross our paths  
My generation is rising from the concrete as a flag 
America Latina, Africa represento Columbia
Hope is vital as the oxygen we breathe
United, we are the light of the way we are taking
 This is the worst of the fighting, the perpetual quarrel, the saga 
It is the dominant dominated, the law of  money 
Reverses statistics, surveys,Prove to your entourage
 A man full of courage, may dig its own way 
To victory, successDespite the many racial conflicts, social 
In France every effort has reward, go! 
One love! For all young people down the stairs of housing projectsI see hope for all those I love
Chorus  
For all young people of the universe: this universal message"
I represent, we represent"I dedicate it to those I love"
In all concrete in all concrete ..."
 For all young people of the universe: this universal message"
I represent, we represent" 
Think today is your day to fight and win, boy!"
The world is in front of you, do not expect it to embark"

The Colony by Al Jazeera

It is a super interesting documentary. I was surprise how much similarities I have with the Chinese immigrants and the African natives. Seriously, I was surprised that no matter where we are from,with diverse cultures, languages and spirituality, we are the same. In this global community, our differences are fading away even if we pretend otherwise. In a community of colonies, we tend to forget that cooperation is vital to our survival on the long run. I wish to find a documentary on African immigrants in China.
Enjoy!

Life and Debt by Stephanie Black

I watched "Life and Debt"  this week end. It was done in 2001 but still true in 2010. It is about the duality between the world of "tourists" and "natives" with the  International Monetary Fund as provider. It is a deep reflection of  global economy and the death of local economies in Jamaica. The worst is that colonization is condemned nowadays but the "economical colonization" is currency. One farmer said that "it is an insult to our dignity". And it does summarize the movie. Of course you can follow the eloquent discourse about post-colonial landscape,a global pattern common throughout the Third World,  debt over double digits  billion to the IMF, the World Bank and the Inter-American Development Bank (IADB).
At the end, the economic policies  are killing people that are supposed to benefit. It is an infernal cycle of inflation, recession,national's loan, currency devaluation, lowering wages, and the so trendy "market deregulation". Life and debt exposes the impact of globalization in Jamaica.  Everybody is third world  at this time, no matter how titled is the dice it has only six faces. It is just unfair that it always the same people that are gambling at the expenses to the third class citizens.
Same Moonlight for our dreams.

Tus Manos by Pablo Neruda (Español -English-Français )

In school, poetry was the only reason I liked Spanish. The grammar rules were complicated but the poetry was so clear and melodious. Here one of my favorite of Pablo Neruda. It is about life, love, and caring hands. It is a powerful mix of nostalgia,passion, and gratefulness. It is real and universal. 

Here for the video in Spanish, it is intense and smooth.

Same Moonlight for our dreams.

Happy Monday!  

Tus manos

Cuando tus manos salen,
amor, hacia las mías,
¿qué me traen volando?
¿Por qué se detuvieron
en mi boca, de pronto,
por qué las reconozco
como si entonces, antes,
las hubiera tocado,
como si antes de ser
hubieran recorrido
mi frente, mi cintura?

Su suavidad venía
volando sobre el tiempo,
sobre el mar, sobre el humo,
sobre la primavera,
y cuando tú pusiste
tus manos en mi pecho,
reconocí esas alas
de paloma dorada,
reconocí esa greda
y ese color de trigo.

Los años de mi vida
yo caminé buscándolas.
Subí las escaleras,
crucé los arrecifes,
me llevaron los trenes
las aguas me trajeron,
y en la piel de las uvas
me pareció tocarte.

La madera de pronto
me trajo tu contacto,
la almendra me anunciaba
tu suavidad secreta,
hasta que se cerraron
tus manos en mi pecho
y allí como dos alas
terminaron su viaje

Your Hands
towards mine, love,
what do they bring me in flight?
Why did they stop
at my lips, so suddenly,
why do I know them,
as if once before,
I have touched them,
as if, before being,
they travelled
my forehead, my waist?
Their smoothness came
winging through time,
over the sea and the smoke,
over the Spring,
and when you laid
your hands on my chest
I knew those wings
of the gold doves,
I knew that clay,
and that colour of grain.
The years of my life
have been roadways of searching,
a climbing of stairs,
a crossing of reefs.
Trains hurled me onwards
waters recalled me,
on the surface of grapes
it seemed that I touched you.
Wood, of a sudden,
made contact with you,
the almond-tree summoned
your hidden smoothness,
until both your hands
closed on my chest,
like a pair of wings
ending their flight. 

Tes Mains
Lorsque tes mains s’envolent,
mon amour, vers les miennes,
que m’apporte leur vol ?
Pourquoi s’être arrêtées
brusquement sur ma bouche,
se faisant familières
comme si lors, avant,
je les avais touchées,
comme si avant couru
sur mon front, sur ma taille ?
Leur douceur s’avançait
en volant sur le temps,
sur la mer, la fumée,
sur le printemps aussi,
et quand tu as posé
tes mains sur ma poitrine,
j’ai reconnu ces ailes
de colombe dorée,
reconnu cette argile,
cette couleur de blé.
J’ai passé mes années
à marcher, les quêtant.
J'ai franchi les récifs,
gravi les escaliers,
les trains m’ont ramené,
dans la peau du raisin
je croyais te palper. 
Le bois m’apporté
un beau jour ton contact,
l’amande m’annonçait
ta secrète douceur,
lorsque ma poitrine
tes mains se sont fermées
et là comme deux ailes
ont fini leur voyage. 

IAM - Demain c'est loin

This is a timeless, priceless, old school French HipHop song from IAM. Here my brief translation!
"The ink flows, the blood spreads  The blotting paper Absorbs the emotion,  images in my memory.I speak from what my relatives live and what I see Guys sinking  in the drifting  desperation....Tempt the devil to get out of misery, you won brother ..But it's still the misery that grows behind....Paint, fire dreams lie buried in the yard...At twelve lead, die, end up like Tupac Shakur ....And we are not born programmed to protest...I never think about tomorrow, because tomorrow is far ....Life is hard, if you want the dream....."



L'encre coule, le sang se répand la feuille buvard
Absorbe l'émotion, sac d'image dans ma mémoire
Je parle de ce que mes proches vivent et de ce que je vois
Des mecs coulés par le désespoir qui partent à la dérive

Des mecs qui pour 20.000 de shit se déchirent

Je parle du quotidien, écoute bien mes phrases font pas rire
Rire, sourire, certains l'ont perdu je pense à Momo
Qui m'a dit à plus jamais, je ne l'ai revu

Tenter le diable pour sortir de la galère, t'as gagné frère
Mais c'est toujours la misère pour ce qui pousse derrière
Pousse pousser au milieu d'un champs de béton
Grandir dans un parking et voir les grands faire rentrer les ronds

La pauvreté, ça fait gamberger en deux temps trois mouvements
On coupe, on compresse, on découpe, on emballe, on vend
A tour de bras, on fait rentrer l'argent du crack
Ouais, c'est ça la vie, et parle pas de rmi ici ici ici

Ici, le rêve des jeunes c'est la Golf gti, survet' Tachini
Tomber les femmes à l'aise comme many
Sur Scarface, je suis comme tout le monde je délire bien
Dieu merci, j'ai grandis, je suis plus malin, lui il crève à la fin

La fin, la faim, la faim justifie les moyens, 4, 5 coups malsains
Et on tient jusqu'à demain, après on verra bien
On marche dans l'ombre du malin du soir au matin
Tapis dans un coin, couteau à la main, bandit de grand chemin

Chemin, chemin, y'en a pas deux pour être un dieu
Frapper comme une enclume, pas tomber les yeux, l'envieux en veut
Une route pour y entrer deux pour s'en sortir, 3/4 cuir
Réussir, s'évanouir, devenir un souvenir

Souvenir être si jeune, avoir plein le répertoire
Des gars rayés de la carte qu'on efface comme un tableau tchpaou!
c'est le noir
Croire en qui, en quoi, les mecs sont tous des mirroirs
Vont dans le même sens, veulent s'en mettre plein les tirroirs

Tirroir, on y passe notre vie, on y finit avant de connaître l'enfer
Sur terre, on construit son paradis
Fiction, désillusion trop forte, sors le chichon
La réalité tape trop dure, besoin d'évasion

Evasion, évasion, effort d'imagination, ici tout est gris
Les murs, les esprits, les rats la nuit
On veut s'échapper de la prison, une aiguille passe, on passe à l'action
Fausse diversion, un jour tu pètes les plombs

Les plombs, certains chanceux en ont dans la cervelle
D'autres se les envoient pour une poignée de biftons, guerre fraternelle
Les armes poussent comme la mauvaise herbe
L'image du gangster se propage comme la gangrène sème ses graines

Graines, graines, graine de délinquant qu'espérez-vous? Tous jeunes
On leur apprend que rien ne fait un homme à part les francs
Au franc tireur discret au groupe organisé, la racine devient champs
Trop grand, impossible a arrêté

Arrêté, poisseux au départ, chanceux à la sortie
On prend trois mois, le bruit court, la réputation grandit
Les barreaux font plus peur, c'est la routine, vulgaire épine
Fine esquisse à l'encre de Chine, figurine qui parfois s'anime

S'anime, anime animé d'une furieuse envie de monnaie
Le noir tombe, qu'importe le temps qu'il fait, on jette les dés, faut flamber
Perdre et gagner, rentrer avec quelques papiers en plus
Ca aidera, personne demandera d'où ils sont tombés

Tomber ou pas, pour tout, pour rien on prend le risque, pas grave cousin
De toute façon dans les deux cas, on s'en sort bien
Vivre comme un chien ou un prince, y'a pas photo
On fait un choix, fait griller le gigot, brillent les joyaux

Joyaux, un rêve, plein les poches mais la cible est loin, la flèche
Ricoche, le diable rajoute une encoche trop moche les mecs cochent
Leur propre case, décoche pour du cash, j'entends les cloches,
les coups de pioche
Creuser un trou, c'est trop fastoche

Fastoche, facile le blouson du bourgeois docile des mêmes la hantise
Et porcelaine dans le pare-brise
Tchac! le rasoir sur le sac à main, par ici les talbins
Ca c'est toute la journée, lendemain, après lendemain

Lendemain? C'est pas le problème, on vit au jour le jour
On n'a pas le temps ou on perd de l'argent, les autres le prennent
Demain, c'est loin, on n'est pas pressé, au fur et à mesure
On avance en surveillant nos fesses pour parler au futur

Futur, le futur ne changera pas grand-chose, les générations prochaines
Seront pires que nous, leur vie sera plus morose
Notre avenir, c'est la minute d'après le but, anticiper
Prévenir avant de se faire clouer

Clouer, clouer sur un banc rien d'autre à faire, on boit de la bière
On siffle les gazières qui n'ont pas de frère
Les murs nous tiennent comme du papier tue-mouches
On est là, jamais on s'en sortira, Satan nous tient avec sa fourche

Fourche, enfourcher les risques seconde après seconde
Chaque occasion est une pierre de plus ajoutée à nos frondes
Contre leurs lasers, certains désespèrent, beaucoup touchent terre
Les obstinés refusent le combat suicidaire

Cidaire, sidérés, les dieux regardent, l'humain se diriger vers le mauvais
Côté de l'éternité d'un pas décidé
Préfèreront rôder en bas en haut, on va s'emmerder
Y'a qu'ici que les anges vendent la fumée

Fumée, encore une bouffée, le voile est tombé
La tête sur l'oreiller, la merde un instant estompée
Par la fenêtre, un cri fait son entrée, un homme se fait braquer
Un enfant se fait serrer, pour une Cartier menotté

Menotté, pieds et poings liés par la fatalité
Prisonnier du donjon, le destin est le geôlier
Le teurf l'arène on a grandi avec les jeux
Gladiateur courageux, mais la vie est coriace, on lutte comme on peut

Dans les constructions élevées
Incompréhension, bandes de gosses soi-disant mal élevés
Frictions, excitation, patrouilles de civils
Trouille inutile, légendes et mythes débiles

Haschich au kilo, poètes armés de stylo
Réserves de créativité, hangars, silos
Ca file au bloc 20, pack de Heineken dans les mains
Oublier en tirant sur un gros joint

Princesses d'Afrique, fille mère, plastique
Plein de colle, raclo à la masse lunatique
Economie parallèle, équipe dure comme un roc
Petits Don qui contrôlent grave leurs spots

On pète la Veuve Cliquot, parqués comme à Mexico
Horizons cimentés, pickpockets, toxicos
Personnes honnêtes ignorées, superflics, Zorros
Politiciens et journalistes en visite au zoo

Musulmans respectueux, pères de famille humbles
Baffles qui blastent la musique de la jungle
Entrées dévastées, carcasses de tires éclatées
Nuée de gosses qui viennent gratter

Lumières oranges qui s'allument, cheminées qui fument
Parties de foot improvisées sur le bitume
Golf, VR6, pneus qui crissent
Silence brisé par les sirènes de police

Polos Façonnable, survêtements minables
Mères aux traits de caractère admirables
Chichon bidon, histoires de prison
Stupides divisions, amas de tisons

Clichés d'Orient, cuisine au piment
Jolis noms d'arbres pour des bâtiments dans la forêt de ciment
Désert du midi, soleil écrasant
Vie la nuit, pendant le mois de Rhamadhan

Pas de distractions, se créer un peu d'action
Jeu de dés, de contrée, paris d'argent, méchante attraction
Rires ininterrompus, arrestations impromptues
Maires d'arrondissement corrompus

Marcher sur les seringues usagées, rêver de voyager
Autoradios en affaire, lot de chaînes arrachées
Bougre sans retour, psychopathe sans pitié
Meilleurs liens d'amitié qu'un type puisse trouver

Génies du sport faisant leurs classes sur les terrains vagues
Nouvelles blagues, terribles techniques de drague
Individualités qui craquent parce que stressées
Personne ne bouge, personne ne sera blessé

Vapeur d'éther, d'eau écarlate, d'alcool
Fourgon de la Brink's maté comme le pactole
C'est pas drôle, le chien mord enfermé dans la cage
Bave de rage, les barreaux grimpent au deuxième étage

Dealer du hashich, c'est sage si tu veux sortir la femme
Si tu plonges, la ferme, pas drame
Mais l'école est pas loin, les ennuis non plus
Ca commence par des tapes au cul, ça finit par des gardes à vues

Regarde la rue, ce qui change? Y'a que les saisons
Tu baves du béton, crache du béton, chie du béton
Te bas pour du laiton, est-ce que ça rapporte
Regrette pas les biftons quand la bac frappe à la porte

Trois couleurs sur les affiches nous traitent comme des bordilles
C'est pas Manille ok, mais les cigarettes se torpillent
Coupable innocent, ça parle cash, de pour cent
Oeil pour oeil, bouche pour dent, c'est stressant

Très tôt, c'est déjà la famille dehors, la bande à Kader
Va niquer ta mère, la merde au cul, ils parlent déjà de travers
Pas facile de parler d'amour, travail à l'usine
Les belles gazelles se brisent l'échine dans les cuisines

Les élus ressassent rénovation ça rassure
Mais c'est toujours la même merde, derrière la dernière couche
De peinture, feu les rêves gisent enterrés dans la cour
A douze ans conduire, mourir, finir comme Tupac Shakur

Mater les photos, majeur aujourd'hui, poto
Pas mal d'amis se sont déjà tués en moto
Une fois tu gagnes, mille fois tu perds, le futur c'est un loto
Pour ce, je dédie mes textes en qualité d'ex-voto, mec

Ici t'es jugé à la réputation forte
Manque-toi et tous les jours les bougres pissent sur ta porte
C'est le tarif minimum et gaffe
Ceux qui pèsent transforment le secteur en oppidum

Gelé, l'ambiance s'électrise, y'a plein de places assises
Béton figé fait office de froide banquise
Les gosses veulent sortir, les "non" tombent comme des massues
Les artistes de mon cul, pompent les subventions dsu

Tant d'énergie perdue pour des préjugés indus
Les décideurs financiers plein de merde dans la vue
En attendant, les espoirs foirent, capotent, certains rappent
Les pierres partent, les caisses volées dérapent

C'est le bordel au lycée, dans les couloirs on ouvre les extincteurs
Le quartier devient le terrain de chasse des inspecteurs
Le dos a un oeil car les eaux sont truffées d'éceuils
Receuille le blé, on joue aux dés dans un sombre cerceuil

C'est trop, les potos chient sur le profil Roméo
Un tchoc de popo, faire les fils et un bon rodéo
La vie est dure, si on veut du rêve
Ils mettent du pneu dans le shit et te vendent ça Ramsellef

Tu me diras "ça va, c'est pas trop"
Mais pour du tcherno, un hamidou quand on a rien, c'est chaud
Je sais de quoi je parle, moi, le bâtard
J'ai dû fêter mes vingt ans avec trois bouteilles de Valstar

Le spot bout ce soir qui est le King
D'entrée, les murs sont réservés comme des places de parking
Mais qui peut comprendre la mène pleine
Qu'un type à bout frappe sec poussé par la haine

Et qu'on ne naît pas programmé pour faire un foin
Je pense pas à demain, parce que demain c'est loin

Cesaria Evora - Lua Nha Testemunha

Happy Saturday to you all!!!A little Cesaria Evora!!

If  you Cape Verdian passing by, please translate... Thank you!
I get : the vagabonds of hope..suffering with loneliness for only companion . in a  life that can be a misadventure... in this world, it is all in God' hands regardless of the distress , distance , pain , ....you have the strength  to succeed  in this world. ....To you all vagabonds of hope. All my love.... Well I am trying :)


Bô ka ta pensâ
nha kretxeu
Nen bô ka t'imajiâ,
o k'lonj di bó m ten sofridu.
.
Perguntâ
lua na séu
lua nha kompanhêra
di solidão.
Lua vagabunda di ispasu
ki ta konxê tud d'nha vida,
nha disventura,
El ê k' ta konta-bu
nha kretxeu
tud k'um ten sofridu
na ausênsia
y na distânsia.
.

Mundu, bô ten roladu ku mi
num jogu di kabra-séga,
sempri ta persigi-m,
Pa kada volta ki mundu da
el ta traze-m un dor
pa m txiga más pa Déuz

Mundu, bô ten roladu ku mi
num jogu di kabra-séga,
sempri ta persigi-m,
Pa kada volta ki mundu da
el ta traze-m un dor
pa m txiga más pa Déuz

Bô ka ta pensâ
nha kretxeu
Nen bô ka t'imajiâ,
o k'lonj di bó m ten sofridu.
.
Perguntâ
lua na séu
lua nha kompanhêra
di solidão.
Lua vagabunda di ispasu
ki ta konxê tud d'nha vida,
nha disventura,
El ê k' ta konta-bu
nha kretxeu
tud k'um ten sofridu
na ausênsia
y na distânsia.
.

Mundu, bô ten roladu ku mi
num jogu di kabra-séga,
sempri ta persigi-m,
Pa kada volta ki mundu da
el ta traze-m un dor
pa m txiga más pa Déuz

Mundu, bô ten roladu ku mi
num jogu di kabra-séga,
sempri ta persigi-m,
Pa kada volta ki mundu da
el ta traze-m un dor
pa m txiga más pa Déuz