I was at an art show today. I went to see my friend’s sculptures.
One piece always stands out for me. I noticed everyone staring at it trying to figure out what was. People were peaking through ‘the hole’ guessing how thick the clay was, and everyone had their own idea what it was. I didn’t see anyone asking her what it was, may be they figured art is about interpretation – they interpreted their own way…
“Few years ago I went to Eritrea” she had told me, “I saw many people that were hungry”. She told me that’s where the inspiration came from. The piece was a silo. I have an idea why people didn’t know what it was. For one the little window at the top should be at the bottom, second the ladder that would have been used to get to the top was too short, hence the name of the art: unreachable.
It’s about the people:
The art might have been inspired by what she saw, but it is about the people: the people that cannot reach to the top. It is about those that are hungry that cannot open the granary to feed themselves. It’s about those that want to learn, but the knowledge is so unreachable. It’s about those who want to be heard, but cannot reach anyone that will hear them. It is about the people. …
The artist was summoned by hunger; the artist has ears that listens the mute. Hunger is loud. Hunger is silent, yet her silence is loud. Hunger whispers, but her whispers are melodious filled with melancholy.
Today, I witnessed hunger speak. Today, I read handwritten poetry of hunger. I heard the voice of the mute. I saw the color of misery painted in beautiful canvas of love. I heard my own friend speak silently – how ironic, to hear the voice of silence…
The ladder is to short, the window of the silo has moved to the top. It is unreachable, but I know my people. They have survived the unfathomable. They have lived through torment. They have sent all their sons and daughters to war front to bring freedom, which seemed unreachable at the moment.
At last, they saw freedom. They danced with liberty; they taste the sweet nectarine of freedom. They did that with hope. I know although the ladder won’t get them there, but hope will carry them to the window.
If you live in Oakland, CA area – check out the art. It will be open until June 4th.
I’m coming back from Starbucks after picking up my free coffee (earth day promotion) the music is playing very loud–
Never let them see you down smile while you bleeding –
My mind is crowded with silly thoughts. At the stop light, the dude next to me is dancing to the beat of my music – or is he?
The light turns green and there is a woman driving next to me – deep in thought. I wonder what she is thinking, and I wonder why she is alone driving, then I remember I’m driving alone – then my thought about nothing is interrupted by the song…
to my man currently in prison
I can’t speak your name
It hurt me that you never listened
It cant be the same
I had to grow my intuition
Had me deep in pain
I wonder who is in prison, and I remember me, right now, imprisoned by thoughts I cannot control – driving only with intuition, not really thinking and filled with thoughts – thoughts I don’t want, thoughts about nothing. I shake my head left to right wanting to unshackle myself from thought, but it seems to wrap them around me, hugging me – now I cannot shake them anymore they have me snagged – tight.
There is a woman walking on the side walk – rhythmically. She is dancing to her own beat – or to the beat of life. There is nothing on her head: no head phones just smile on her face. Why is she so happy? Is she imprisoned by different kind of thought? May be she is filled with euphony of life. Is my mind playing tricks on me? I thought she was dancing – dancing to the beat in her head, but she is just walking.. WTF
I decided to focus on the music. I turned it up even louder…
war is no place for a child
especially if he’s rollin’ with an AK and a smile
he had witnessed his own mother bloody in a towel
but please, please, please, please
never let’em see you down
smile while you bleedin’
Still the same song? I realize I have it on repeat. I started thinking about the music. Why do I feel it so much, why does it touch me so much? How does he expect the child to smile while he witnessed what he witnessed? I always say good songs speak my silences. If my silences are filled with such tragedy then, may be it is good I’m chained by these thoughts. Then I smile, remembering I still am thinking not listening to the music.
Thank God, I’m back at the house… Once in the house, I remember I didn’t turn the volume down, and someone is going to take my car to pick up my daughters. I hope he has healthy heart…
I was driving to the gym this morning, and I heard an interview with Deval Patrick on NPR. I don’t know much about this guy. I always seem to miss a story about him, so I paid attention to what he had to say.
It was about his new biography. He talked about how he came from nowhere and became somebody. I was thinking ‘another politician, who made from nothing’. I guess we do like to vote for people who make something out of themselves. It makes sense since their story does say something about what they are capable of.
Anyway, what most attracted me to the story was his relationship with his father. Long after his father left him, after he became an adult and accomplished something, he had to come in terms with his father.
It seemed to me, his father was unable to communicate his deepest feeling to him. He was eaten with guilt and shame of what he has done. As a father, he must have realized what he had done, and the love he felt for him. He invited him to one of his gigs and played a song dedicating to him. The song was “I can’t get started” The song goes “I’ve been around the world in a plane; I’ve started revolutions in Spain; the North Pole I’ve charted. Still, I can’t get started with you.” The power of music. … Now I have to find that music…
I was drenched in love today: exhilarating love. Looks and hugs and kisses I want to keep forever within me. My deepest pain, my dark spot was polished and shining. I watched them as they play and dance with freedom. I was happy yet envious of their closeness to freedom: the freedom I covet daily. The freedom I long to hold so close to my heart- freedom of being me.
It was a reminder of how much I missed being with them, while they are with me – a relic of beautiful moment buried deep in my soul. I had to search within me to remember. A shameful reminder of my responsibility of fatherhood.
Too focused with their and my studies, too focused in ‘being successful’, I had started to repeat a saga I abandoned on purpose. A saga of fatherless child, who begrudged his neighbors’ family…
But today, at the park I was healed by a moment I will cherish forever… I saw in their eyes how much they have missed me. I felt deep in my soul how much I miss them. I felt my love to them – a love I can never feel for anyone else. I realized although we live together, we see each other daily, moments like this are precious, unique and irreplaceable.
For a while I quit updating my blog. I didn’t loose interest, just got caught up in the trends. I took a vacation to Europe, and when I came back, I was a victim of the current economic turmoil. Unemployed, I tried to use my time wisely and picked up some training, and had some wonderful time with my kids.
You would think that would be the perfect time to blog. It was the opposite for me. My mind was focused only in accomplishing certain things. My certification program went very well. I volunteered and did some IT jobs. Virtual volunteering is the best way to go about things when your schedule is nebulous.
From my volunteering, I learned few things. There are countless of organizations that need variety of skill sets but could not afford to hire. For me volunteematch.com was the great place to find these opportunities.
The other stuff I learned is that many organizations have idea of what they want but not exactly know what is involved with creating what they want. So, you will have organizations that will tell you to create database for them, but when you ask they why they want it, they don’t have a clear answer. So you start investigating and you learn that what they want is really not application but some sort of application program.
The other part left me disappointed was that, although you are giving your time to them, some organizations do not value your time as they should. Come on, this is a free service for you. It would be nice to reply to emails, answer questions ABOUT STUFF YOU WANT DONE, and be more pro active. I had to ditch one of them because the person who is supposed to be the leader of the organization decided to be MIA. No notice, no activity, no replies … and one day, sorry I was sick I will get back with you soon… Geez…
I’m going to try to use this blog to share what I see and improve my writing. Although now I’m back to working, I still do volunteer job with one of the organizations with great mission, but not very cooperative. So, I’ve been trying to decipher their website, read their blogs, and define their terms because they are not providing me with definitions and so on …
Listening is one of the most important skills that we learn as we grow up. Leadership requires listening skills, good counselors are good listeners, and good relationships require good listening skills. But how about listening to yourself? That must be one good skill to have. I always thought good critical thinking involves figuring out what is logical? I thought it only involves what makes sense and not what your intuition says. Each day, I learn my assumptions are wrong.
Daily in my life, I am learning some times my intuition is the sixth sense I never thought I have. I still haven’t learned to obey my gut feeling yet, but I am seeing so many reasons why I should have listened. I’m left with dealing with the consequences of not listening to my ‘gut feelings’.
In an article on Psychology Today, Carling Flora says, “Intuitions, or gut feelings, are sudden, strong judgments whose origin we can’t immediately explain. Although they seem to emerge from an obscure inner force, they actually begin with a perception of something outside—a facial expression, a tone of voice, a visual inconsistency so fleeting you’re not even aware you noticed.”
I think that is the problem for most of us—at least for me – the problem is because I think gut feelings just arise based on our fears, or preconceived ideas. We consider them being baseless so we discard them. In fact, according to the article they do possess some of the qualities of pre-conceived ideas. She says they are like a brain’s matching game where the brain search through a file and matches to the best analogous experiences. After all, they do have a logical source.
Decisions, of course, should not be made simply based on gut feelings. We have learned from our infamous president the result of that; however, putting your intuition in consideration when having to make a decision, will save you a heartache that arises in dealing with the consequences. It sucks to have to say, “Darn it, I knew that would happen.”
This is a crisis within a crisis. California’s budget short fall is ridiculous. Ultimately, Californians need to do deep soul searching to figure out the root problem and curb it.