A date on a sunny day

It was a nice bright day notwithstanding the threatening cloud over town, coming straight from the direction of the nuclear plant which most people here in the country think should be closed.I decided to take a walk and went to a small park I had often passed in the car, but never had walked it. It was lovely, with an adventure playground for children, an experience garden where without having to stoop one can feel and smell the kitchen and healing herbs. There is even a start of a wood-wall where all kind of critters can survive the winter. A little note explains, asking not to carry of the old wood. Once done, it will be a nice feature.

The big tree here is totally entwined in ivy. This is a parasitic relationship which can  kill the big tree, It looks lovely however, yet I'll remind not to be clinging towards other people.

The tree stump covered in fungus and mushrooms. It made me realize the beauty of decay.

So my expedition was fruitful, I took the time to be and see, to notice, to enjoy. So, go out, enjoy the glorious light and listen to the birds.

ANC: 100 years

Today 100 years ago the African National Congress saw the light. Today the festivities take place for 100 years of selfless struggle. As an interpreter I have been once or twice the voice of Nelson Mandela after he was released from Robben Island. When South Africa was freed from Apartheid, it became member of the ACP and had at their first attendance the meeting in Cape Town and were given a most moving and enlightening tour of Robben Island by a former prisoner who became a minister in the first Mandela government. It was non-violence which won freedom. was one of his messages and that the embargo gave support to the resistance because even when suffering they knew it was  because people supported their struggle. At the opening of the ACP Meeting the African Anthem was played, well known by all who had worked for the abolishment of Apartheid and this is what I saw:

Sikeleli Africa

At the first notes

just two white people jumped up

one with his left fist in the air

she with her hand on

her heart

All peoples standing

the light skinned

rose

a few notes later –

The huge hall filled with

respect

I like to think

the white people were

slow

not recognizing the music in their

soul

or just older and stiffer and

slower

I like to think

Nkosi Sikeleli Africa

is the hope that touches us

all -           

 

Traditions of transitions

The winter blues chased away by a town in festive mood. Then having the blues can mean something different.
People mill around for a charity concert and visit the Christmas market.

 The traditional fireworks were different: the private fuses at least as impressive as the official city fireworks.  All around town the colorful flashes lit up and looked nice. At lot of noise was made to chase the bad spirits away and to hail in the New Year.

May your year be colorful and creative, bring peace and happiness to all of you. Let's practice ahimsa in word and deed.
Namaste.

Walk in a winterharbor

Cities with harbors and water are special. The rivers give a city space, wide skies, bring tall ships with strangers and something to look at on the promenade, like the colorful ferries wheel.

I like to see the instruments of a harbor, the bollards, cranes, bridges and the multipurpose tugboats.

And then slowly the moon comes out in brings
coziness on a pre -X mas evening under the watchful still almost full moon, awaiting the return of light, love and peace.

Hugo van Montfrans

I had a friend, Hugo van Montfrans, he passed away many years ago, about 20. He was Dutch and would correct me constantly when I made a mistake in speaking. that came in hndy  much later professionally. Thanks for that. Once he gave me a set of six cups, now the last one has been chipped and I have been thinking of him. When I met him he worked at Madame Arthur in Antwerp, performing as Olivette, making paper wigs and weird dresses for his shows. He also made some nice, strange dresses for myself and my daughter. he also was a puppeteer and an artist working in white wool and lace on cotton. Hugo also wrote and played in a film by Fellini: 8 1/2 I think it was. So the last cup is on its way out, but not the memories.

Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941

Today, 70 years later, the attack on Pearl Harbor is commemorated and the USA joined in WWII. Now I usually don't divulge personal information on the blog. But the way I tell my private history runs as follows: Without Pearl Harbor I wouldn't be there. My father was an American GI who had volunteered. He liberated my mother, loved and married her. She followed him to the USA on one of the ships with the war brides. I was born a good year later and for my mother American dream turned into American nightmare and she went back home with her bundle of grief under her arm...

I tell the story this way because many children my generation are just as I an aftermath of the war. So I try to be non-violent and words and deeds. Ahimsa, to all of you and blessed be the peacemakers.

The child has the father’s name

That is all he is

a name - a seldom-heard voice

a story lost

With the fading of his glory

he lives on in a dream

reconstructed the charming hero

that he was

or more muddled

           motley

the bis-tris-dis-

illusion

of a mother’s life

So the child has a name

any name

The name of the wind

sitting in the rocking chair

with empty screeching

of wood on wood

The first name

 that would last.

John Sinclair

John Sinclair performs on tour with a band. The band plays according to the lyrics spoken. A lot of the poetry is influenced by Jazz, so we were treated with Monk, a bit of Coltrane, good old blues... and the words which flowed. The band prepares and then plays a set of songs, lyrics by Ken Post. After the break, after a moment of stillness and concentration, poet-activist, icon of American sub-culture performs. A love poem with a twist, a poem about being on the road and in jail with the beau of his mother and making money because the prison guards loved their performance and brought them out every night to another club.

Strong
moving
to the point
surprising
love
and struggle
freedom
and all that...
Here you see the band, Lenny on the sax had his work cut out for him.

A fun night, without any of the tediousness of officialdom.
Honest en open jazzy poetry.
If  you have a chance to see John Sinclair perform, do go and listen.
It will warm the cockles of your heart.
Read the history of his struggle for the freedom to get high.