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Turn the Beat Around

It was an interesting morning following a most interesting weekend.

Miranda Wu,photographer, Hong Kong



For a moment it threatened to become a foul day behind one small sentence a nasty little comment from someone whom I've never met, will probably never meet about something they were misinformed about.






Actually there were two but the 1st one wasn't directed at me but to someone who had been widowed recently on top of a tumultuous year filled with illness, unexpected deaths from 2 close family members one being her husband, a serous car accident, loss of income & loss of her home.






The ne'er-de-wells attentions were not pure morals of the highest order. They were just being nosey and wanted to see how far she had "fallen" so they could in a pitiful way feel better. It didn't serve a purpose, their actions, for them other then a momentary feeling of smugness that was fleeting & not substantial as they have to do this often to feed the beast, the one of their own inadequacy.






They keep feeding the beast who is now grotesquely obese but malnourished so nothing ever comes out of this.






Then within an hour I had received an "accidental"email where the person was making a snide comment about me to someone else & then sent it to me apparently in a BCC,I could not tell you it was accidental or purposeful as it does not change the content.






First thing is, folks who do things like this, if you're going to do something like that, be sure to check before you hit enter otherwise it could backfire on you.






What purpose was it to serve? How does it enhance you? Was a good purpose served?






In rapid succession I was puzzled, hurt, then angry and was building up a head of steam until that lightening bolt moment when I thought: Turn the Beat Around!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuHepuVSheA


I responded back to said person acknowledging that perhaps the email was sent in error and as a professional i could not imagine anyone deliberately sending such a thing but agreed with them that in part some of what they said was true: it was indeed "too bad" but it was too bad for them not for me.

I have no desire & wouldn't do business it anyone who could be that shabby & tacky nor was I in the business to beg them to do me a a favor. In fact, I thought utilizing me would have been a good thing, not a bad one. If the BCC was sent to me in "error" which I construe as an accident on purpose, the contents remained the same.

I could have wasted far more valuable time & energy on someone anyone would did not deem me worthy enough trying to explain away why they were wrong or I could turn the beat around that just because they felt that way it had any merit of truth to it.


Not everything or everybody will jibe.  The world does not ordain that. 
The world today, however,  seems to thrive on if you let it infect you, of becoming increasingly mean spirited, heartless, deriving pleasure from what appears to be another's way that may be different from theirs.

 Once upon a time popular consensus would be that such behavior is morally wrong.  Now you get a book deal, a TV show or an unearned "status" raking in tens of thousands of dollars from what is by any standard cruel or selfish behavior.

And we're told to suck it up... to enjoy, emulate and adding insult to injury pay for it!

 In my case, though, this had nothing to do with me suffering this was about a mutually beneficial event for the parties involved. And someone decided to be mean and not even adult enough to talk to you but as cowards can do, go around it but doing it anyway.


In the scheme of things this is a minor thing & will long be forgotten.  It is just for today it mattered but more from the standpoint of learning to turn something around.  Someones opinion is not necessarily an indictment, simply their opinion and the sun did not let up for one more of its brightness because of it.


Artists go through this all the time, it comes unfortunately with the territory. I've said this many times if YOU do not see your work or you as the best thing since the invention of Kool-aid, why or how would you expect anyone to believe in your worth or in what you present.






There will always be someone around who wants to ride on the beat-down train, but you do not have to be a paid passenger!






It was good for me how rapidly I went from being hurt to oh well it is your loss. To date the person neither has responded by email or phone and doubt seriously if I will be as the song goes "You lose a good thing"...©11


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0x4AZHDT-4A

Miranda Wu, watercolorist, Hong Kong

Poetic License: Licencia poética, Blanca Varela, poeta

 


Currículum Profesional 

By Blanca Varela 

digamos que ganaste la carrera 

y el premio era otra carrera 

que no ganó la victoria bebida, 

pero su propia sal 

que nunca has oído los gritos, 

sino ladridos 

de los perros 
y que tu sombra fue 
su único competidor e injusto 

 
Blanca Varela, poeta 


Professional Résumé 
By Blanca Varela 

let's say that you won the race 
and the prize was another race 
that you didn't drink victory's win 
but your own salt 
that you never heard the cheers 
and the dogs barking... 

and that your shadow 
was your sole 
and unfair competitor 

 
Blanca Varela, poeta 

Translated by Michael L. Smith

Poetic License~Nikki Giovanni

Poetry

By Nikki Giovanni

poetry is motion graceful 
as a fawn 
gentle as a teardrop 
strong like the eye 
finding peace in a crowded room 
we poets tend to think 
our words are golden 
though emotion speaks too 
loudly to be defined 
by silence 
sometimes after midnight or just before 
the dawn 
we sit typewriter in hand 
pulling loneliness around us 
forgetting our lovers or children 
who are sleeping 
ignoring the weary wariness 
of our own logic 
to compsoe a poem 
no one understands it 
it never says "love me" for poets are 
beyond love 
it never says "accept me" for poems seke not 
acceptance but controversy 
it only says "i am" and therefore 
i concede that you are too

a poem is pure energy 
horizontally contained 
between the mind 
of the poet and the ear of the reader 
if it does not sing discard the ear 
for poetry is song 
if it does not deligh discard 
the heart for poetry is joy 
if it does not inform then close 
off the brain for it is dead 
if it cannot heed the insistent message 
that life is precious

which is all we poets 
wrapped in our loneliness 
are trying to say

 Ms. Nikki Giovanni,poet

Poetic License for Sunday April 3,2011~Mr. Saul Williams

Here is my Sunday afternoon poem of the day... There are no words I can add other then there is no age, stature,class or education requirement to feel that kind of love...

This Type Love

 By Saul Williams©06

I want a love like me thinking of you thinking of me thinking of you type love or me telling my friends more than I've ever admitted to myself about how I feel about you type love or hating how jealous you are but loving how much you want me all to yourself type love

or seeing how your first name just sounds so good next to my last name.

and shit- I wanted to see how far I could get without calling you and I barely made it out of my garage.

See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls asleep then wonder if she's dreaming about us being in love type love or who loves the other more or what she's doing at this exact moment or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the music of our hearts.

Closing my eyes and imagining how a love so good could just hurt so much when she's not there and shit I love not knowing where this love is headed type love.

And check this-

I wanna place those little post-it notes all around the house so she never forgets how much I love her type love

then not have enough ink in my pen to write all the love type love and hope I make her feel as good as she makes me feel

and I wanna deal with my friends making fun of me the way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love.

The only difference is this is one of those real type loves

and just like in high school I wanna spend hours on the phone not saying shit and then fall asleep and then wake up with her right next to me and smell her all up in my covers type love and I wanna try counting the ways I love her then lose count in the middle just so I could start all over again

and I wanna celebrate one of those one-month anniversaries even though they ain't really anniversaries but doing it just 'cause it makes her happy type love

and check this-

I wanna fall in love with the melody the phone plays when our numbers dial in type love and talk to you until I lose my breath, she leaves me breathless, but with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all of her back into me.

I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan to something that allows me to talk to her longer 'cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves

and I don't want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are I mean the lines on my palms don't give me enough time to love you as long as I'd like to type love

and I want a love that makes me st-st-st-stutter just thinking about how strong this love is type love and I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair. Well maybe not all of the hair, maybe like I'd cut the split ends and trim the mustache but it would still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her.

I kind of feel comfortable now so I even be fantasize about walking out on a green light just dying to get hit by a car just so I could lose my memory, get transported to some third world country just to get treated and somehow meet up again with you so I could fall in love with you in a different language and see if it still feels the same type love.

I want a love that's as unexplainable as she is, but I'm married so she is gonna be the one I share this love with.

Mr. Saul Williams,poet

Revised for a new Year,new Decade New Time

 I originally wrote this 3 years ago when a whole segment of my life was upside down, crawling sideways and going where I did not know.  


I know now.

Windows~JHM photo©07

New Tomorrows

By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney ©07

Revised11-10

Do you need to set eyes on what no longer sighed?

But chose now to prance across the tango waves?

My private audience for the new tomorrows...

Began yesterday.

It first started when the moon blared a not so tender farewell...

To what beckoned it there before the nigh?

The disclosure began before I knew what was happening

Nor could I stop it even if I had known how to

 I did not know how prepared I was for …

New Tomorrows

(At first)…

I grasp although tired

Tried

Tired

I could not see but I held on anyway

Though I did not know where I was going…

At that moment,

 I tap danced in a first light of new activation

No longer in a blissful ignorance

Or a sedentary agitation

But a luscious filled solitude

That no longer needed to be alone

So were my prayerful thoughts...

I pranced in a roundabout in an air of my delights

Blissfully bothered with what I have the sense to hear.

It did not matter if it seemed foolish to others

Or if I embarrassed anyone who was not invited to this promenade…

All those things…

All those things

All those things

Swollen in my belly that I wore for three long years…

Three long years…

Have been banished to the land of nevermore.

With no passport to return

For a time and a time and a time no more

All rights reservedJHM11-27-10©

Arrival Still photo~Isabel Wilkerson

Visual poetry; A feast for the Eyes & Ears...

I am loving this tonight:




Alone

By Dr. Maya Angelou

Lying, chinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Reflectiing: An unexpected gift from an Unexpected Source...

I was very pleased today in receiving 2 beautifully hand made cards from 2 people on opposite sides of the country. And then a visit from another artist and a hilarously good time phone call from another long time friend who I will be seeing in her 1st ever trip to N.O ever in 3 weeks.

To say I was happy is an understatement about today. I am an extrovert & love company & love interactng with artists, even when we are not talking about art. My oddest moment,though, was an unexpected knock at the door. It was from an neighbor who had not, along with his family, been the most neighborly person over the last several weeks.

He came bearing a lovely poster celebrating Essence 10th Anniversary in NewOrleans that he said felt exemplified what he saw as my style.

And he was dead on right...

I think the artist may be Charles Bibbs or LaShaun Beal. If any reader is from New Orleans,or attended Essence n 2004, who was the artist who did Essence 10th anniversary poster for 04?

More importantly in his own clumsy way, I suspect he was trying to make amends for the behavior of him & his family since I've moved in the neighborhood. He is aware I am moving out of the neighborhood shortly & I take that it was by way an apology.

I would have preferred a change in the actions that brought it to this (the move), but I squeal with delight over the poster which seemed to please him. It was indeed a lovely gesture as well as my response to this unexpected gift.

Just go to show we just will never completely figure out human beings and maybe it just as well.

It keeps life interesting, eh?

To Be Real

To Be Real
By Jacquelyn Hughes Mooney 09©

What will be left, if we do not see
A necessity
To put our faces real
In a world who thus far
Leans away
With feet of clay
(all will say)
Tell tale, varnished lies,
That we sell ourselves
We knew all along
What we’ve been doing is wrong
And all along
We know it does not work
But we continue to reel
In the stress & strife
With perverted delight
And call it life
Although its all a sham
Yes m’aam
Fooloishly chasing
(man oh man)
A scripted, faux reality
And we kneel
To something that is not real
All the time resistng
The Source of all life
We can carry on … do less
Or give rise to our best
To be real
For it is the deal
All right reserved JHM12-13-09©

The End of a Road;Begin Anew...

In 6 days I will be boarding the train heading home to New Orleans & am I excited! I had to reflect to day that I am also coming to the end of another road with few regrets and with some appreciation.



In my "sabbatical" as I call it this last year I've learned a lot of things about myself. And despite some of the trials, it was indeed a good thing so I have few regrets.

In 6 days I will be boarding the train heading home to New Orleans & am I ready to rock & roll getting the creative juices to flow!

I've learn not to take myself or others so seriously and to be serious about what is necessary.

One thing I learned is to be still.

Another is the world will not fall apart if I am not rushing pell mell . I can indeed (and did) take some of the stress off myself.

I had lots and lots of time to think, renew & enjoy my own company.

I created a garden; took up photography...

I created a new paradigm.

I got to see my grandchild born, spend time, albeit very little, with my son & saw pine trees w daisies at the ocean.

And while unfortunately I watch my health deteriorate some, I also have gain some skills and tools to renew that too. We need health care so badly for all.

I relinquished a few friendships that were not quite as friendly & gain a few new allies.

I watch deer in my yard, had a yellow tabby & a grey Himalayan cats visit me on a regular basis.

I saw lovely butterflies, humming birds and wild turkeys.

I learn not to take myself or others so seriously and to be serious about what is necessary.
And I embrace two people who had faith in my ability to renew & fly!

So I say I have few regrets, many struggles but I made it. I might not have known all of this if I had not taken that leap of faith and moved across country.

As a friend said to me "One thing is for sure: when you leap off a cliff you will do one or two things; You will hit something solid or you will learn to fly"

Well guess what Karen, I managed to do both!

How cool is that!

Textural RhythmsExhibition in New York

Congratulations Carolyn & artists!

You will continue to rock...

http://www.folkartmuseum.org/default.asp?id=2377

In Moon's Garden & the Cul de Sac

Banjo Lady, Lady Blue

This quilt was created for Blu Barker , sassy blues singer of New Orleans and wife of jazz giant Danny Barker. Exhibited at the Amewrican Jazz Museum 2007-08