The present is internally related to the past-all of it. We are free in the present as to how we choose to let the past enter into the present, as to what we do with the past, whether we deal with it in ways that are transformative and forgiving of that past. There can be no authentic and effective reconciliation and forgiveness of the past until there is an honest telling of the story(ies) and recognition and acceptance of varying degrees of responsibility for the past, for that past in the very telling of the story.
Healing and reconciliation occurs when there is remembrance and a transcendence of all of the experiences of the past, the pain, the suffering, and grief, as well as happiness and joy, are experienced eminently, preserved everlastingly, and transformed, redeemed in an ultimate sense in the divine memory and novel possibilities of the future. Marjorie Hewitt Suchocki
Our fears, particularly if we have been through something traumatic, produce emotional blocks and result in disturbing, or threatening thoughts. If we experience something very painful or very traumatic, we often get it burned into our brains that we should give up and not go forward in life or with certain courses of action, because if we do we're doomed to just more suffering. If we are afraid of what may happen to us, this fear-inspired inability to make decisions almost always causes us to make bad decisions that bring into our lives the very thing we are afraid of! Fear easily leads to negative attitudes. Negative attitudes don't allow positive changes to be made. You have to live to be good to yourself and that means living for your loves, not your fears. Face fate, don't flee it. No longer become paralyzed by someone's judgments about you, feel confident and graceful in your social situation, learn to forgive your mistakes…and let them go. Carla Valencia
Astrology could provide the literary backbone of a novel, a way to weave heady ideas about fate and character into an adventure yarn, a way to rebel against the convention. Eleanor Catton's “Luminaries” is astrology speak for the brightest and most important objects in the sky: the sun and the moon. Put simplistically, the greater and lesser light of the sun and moon represent the twin poles of man and woman (born on the same day, at the same hour, beneath the same sky)and their array of accompanying characteristics. Each of the many characters is assigned an astrological identity that cycles during a time of precession, when “the motion of the vernal equinox has come to shift.” “Piscean in its quality...an age of mirrors, tenacity, instinct, twinship, and hidden things.” This is the stuff of life in all its unpredictability: mistaken assumptions; arrogant presumption; substance over surface; truth and consequences; and, ultimately, good versus evil.
With so many characters taking on false identities and trying to out-cheat each other, Catton has mined the seamy underside of greed and poverty that forces us to question where the real morality lies and persuading the readers to invest emotionally in each foibled, flawed, lying character right to the novel’s end, when every character’s initial presentation has been destabilized.
Eleanor Catton's “Luminaries”
Sergei Prokofiev - Romeo and Juliet - Dance of the Knights
There's no time for waiting, no future to see. Inside the next moment nothing might be. The answer's not certain, no time to decide. Is this the last curtain, there's no place to hide. There's no tomorrow, There's no tomorrow, There's no tomorrow, There's only today We all know the story, we've heard it before. We end up no question outside of death's door. There's no easy answer to the question at hand. So easy to ask and not understand. Elton john and Leon russel - "All I want is for him to have in his life, the awards that seem to have been lost to him in the last 35 years."
Music is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passionate, and eternal form. PLATO.
A musical thought is one spoken by a mind that has penetrated into the inmost heart of the thing; detected the inmost mystery of it, namely the melody that lies hidden in it; the inward harmony of coherence which is its soul, whereby it exists, and has a right to be, here in this world. All inmost things, we may say, are melodious; naturally utter themselves in Song. The meaning of Song goes deep. Who is there that, in logical words, can express the effect music has on us? A kind of inarticulate unfathomable speech, which leads us to the edge of the Infinite, and lets us for moments gaze into that! Thomas Carlyle, The Hero as Poet
Poet and Prophet fundamentally are the same in this most important respect especially, That they have penetrated both into the sacred mystery of the Universe; what Goethe calls "the open secret." Open to all, seen by almost none! That divine mystery, which lies everywhere in all Beings, "the Divine Idea of the World, that which lies at the bottom of Appearance," as Fichte styles it; of which all Appearance, from the starry sky to the grass of the field, but especially the Appearance of Man and his work, is but the vesture, the embodiment that renders it visible. This divine mystery is in all times and in all places; veritably is. The Pleasures of Life, by Sir John Lubbock
The Meeting Pool is where different musicians, ideas and styles of music come together. Just as the music has its inspiration from different places and countries, so too Baka Beyond brings musicians together from across the globe.
STEPHEN LYTTON, community actor and writer at Vancouver Downtown Eastside Heart of the City Festival celebrating people who manage to thrive and be decent to each other in spite of terrible obstacles. Community is care, care for one another, care for those least able to care for themselves, neighbour helping neighbour, acts of charity and kindness are everywhere.
Playing for Change is a multimedia movement created to inspire, connect, and bring peace to the world through music. The idea for this project arose from a common belief that music has the power to break down boundaries and overcome distances between people. No matter whether people come from different geographic, political, economic, spiritual or ideological backgrounds, music has the universal power to transcend and unite us as one human race. And with this truth firmly fixed in our minds, we set out to share it with the world.
Stand By Me - Playing For Change - Song Around the World. Various street people to sing along with the track being sung by Roger Ridley from Santa Monica, Cal. He died before the video was published.
I would respond to his call, his distress and his wounds – those which leave a print on the tragic destinies of rejected geniuses, left to their sad fate and who sink into a sea of bitterness, where they are neither understood nor supported. Alain Lefevre on Andre Mathieu
So perish the old Gods! But out of the sea of time rises a new land of song, fairer than the old. Over its meadows green walk the young bards and sing. Build it again, O ye bards, fairer than before! Ye fathers of the new race, feed upon morning dew, sing the new Song of Love!
The law of force is dead! The law of love prevails! Thor, the thunderer, shall rule the earth no more, no more, with threats, challenge the meek Christ.
Sing no more, O ye bards of the North, Of Vikings and of Jarls! Of the days of Eld. Preserve the freedom only, not the deeds of blood! Tegner's Drapa from The Seaside and the Fireside by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
SURPRISED by joy-impatient as the Wind I turned to share the transport-Oh! with whom But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, That spot which no vicissitude can find? Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind- But how could I forget thee? Through what power, Even for the least division of an hour, Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss?-That thought's return Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; That neither present time, nor years unborn Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.
Rahi Mo'ayyeri and Davud Pirnia at Maydani Arg Radio Studio Tehran. The music and literary repertoire of the programs known as Golha, "Flowers" was a series of weekly radio programs. The best musicians, vocalists, literary critics, poets and announcers performed on the programs, thus providing a unique recorded collection of the classical corpus of Persian music and poetry made in the 20th century.
Marzieh, Sange Khara
دست ار هد به پای گل و لاله مست باش جامی بنوش و بی خبر از هر چه هست باش Golha - Roshanak
Joe Dassin - L'ete Indien (THE INDIAN SUMMER) I'm like a wave drawn by the moon, slipping back on the sand, remembering the high tides, remembering the happiness and the sun shining over the sea. The thousand years ago or was it just last year?
What is time? Plato said time is the circular motion of the heavens. Aristotle said its not motion but the measure of motion. Kant said it is a form that the mind projects upon the external. A more modern definition says time is the dimension of causality.
Whether time is a line or a circle or a projection of the mind, one thing that is apparent to humans is that it is not at rest. Movement is constant in the universe and through movement we experience time.Time has significance for all cultures and is understood or represented by a diverse set of models. Time is big, small, obscure, obvious, fast, slow, serious, humorous, sad, indifferent and complex and always adds up to be more than the sum of its parts.
Chris Gallagher’s film essay Time Being is an investigation of the nature and experience of time that probes and questions the subject from many different angles-psychological, philosophical, mechanical, cosmological, artistic.
Electric Light Orchestra (ELO)-Telephone Line
مـــــــــــــن آشناييم که غريبه من را نميشناسد. من غريبه ايم که آشنا من را نميشناسد. من آنم که هرکس يادگاري از درد بر دلم گذاردو رفت. من آنم که هرچه زجرم دادند کينه شان را به دل نگرفتم، من آنم که از دل مينويسم اما انگار کسي دل ندارد که حرفم را بداند مگر نگفتند آنچه از دل برايد لاجرم بر دل نشيند؟. من گمشده اي در غربت يادها هستم. شاعر نيستم اما شعر ميگويم، خواننده نيستم اما ميخوانم، مومن نيستم اما خدا را عبادت ميکنم، نويسنده نيستم اما مينويسم، من آنم که به هرکه محبت کردم از پشت به من خنجر زد، من آنم که سينه اش غمها براي گفتن دارد، من آنم که در اين دنيا بي ادعاست، من آنم که به سادگي فراموش ميشوم زودتر از يک پلک زدن، آنچنان که فراموشم کردند، دنياي من با اين همه گفتار سپيد تر از برف است چون اگر کسي را نداشته باشم خدا را دارم و اوست ياره واقعيه من. من آنم که کسي حتي نزديکانم مرا با اين نام نميشناسند.من آنم که ناشناس بودن را دوست دارد. باز ميخواهي بداني کي هستم!؟ به راستي مــــــــــــــــــن کي هستم؟
The Secrets presents the complexities of a religious lifestyle in a vibrant environment of youth, rebellion and desire. Naomi, the pious daughter of an ultra orthodox rabbi go to study at a women's religious seminary in Safed, the birthplace of the Kabala in order to prepare herself for the sacrifices she will have to make in life. She devises a series of kabbalistic rituals which will somehow purify Anouk, a mysterious older woman who may have committed a crime of passion, and purge her of her sins and to find forgiveness for the dark deeds in her past.
If your old age tastes of ashes, if you are wretched, lonely, worried about your health, money, I am sorry. But now that you are 70, can't you at last grasp that you have brought most of this on yourself. Will your life, such a ball of rage, inchoate rage, go forever unexamined? “When I was 12, and had the misfortune to share a front bedroom with you, it did not strike you as undignified to consider your appetites first, your children later.” Mordecai Richler in a letter to his mother.
Because of the many unanticipated, disappointing, discouraging, heartbreaking, defeating and perplexing circumstances that have arisen in our life, we could have very well developed a personality that projects pessimism, sadness, intolerance, cynicism, indifference and a certain amount of ungoverned irritability. In other words, instead of vibrating as the highly charged artistic magnet we inherently are created to be, we can become bland and lifeless.
We had no way of knowing, and perhaps still don't, why things have occurred in our life the way they have. But, no longer do we have to sell out. We are capable of realizing our most cherished dreams and aspirations, and instead of fearing the collapse, embrace it. The fear is nothing more than breaking through the walls of collected conditioned emotional debris that no longer hold merit for us. Each morning we arise with an undisclosed sensation calling our name into an artistic arena of lucid involvement. We look around and say, What am I doing with my life?
Becoming more honest with who we are and what we are truly all about. It will liberate us from the excessive stringy obligations we feel that are at present stifling. When we are authentic, our life reflects it in every avenue. Others respond to us more authentically. We are able to connect, live, laugh in a more passionate and meaningful way. Levels of unexpressed vitality wait in the balances for our opting to exercise. Why not open up to the raw ecstasy inside of us? We have got so much unfiltered passion in us. We must tap into it. Until we do, delays, aggravations, complications, headaches, health problems, and obstacles will plague us. Stop lying to ourself. It is no longer fun. We are a divine magician! There is one prerequisite, however; we must become ruthless in our pursuit of removing layers of artificiality. Authenticity brings a liberating freedom unlike anything we have experienced. Paula Andrea Pyle
Poetry is beginning to represent, as an ambassador, something far greater than itself...The idea of global unity is not new, but the absolute necessity of it has only just arrived, like a sudden radical alteration of the sun, and we shall have to adapt or disappear. If the nations are ever to make a working synthesis of their ferocious contradictions, the plan will be created in spirit before it can be formulated or accepted in political fact. And it is in poetry that we can refresh our hope that such a unity is occupying people's imaginations everywhere, since poetry is the voice of spirit and imagination and all that is potential, as well as of healing benevolence that used to be the privilege of the gods. Ted Hughes
Suddenly I read all this, Your actual words, as they floated out through your throat and tongue and onto your page. Just as when your daughter, years ago now, drifting in, gazing up into my face, mystified, Where I worked alone in the silent house, asked, suddenly: 'Daddy, where's Mummy?' The freezing soil of the garden, as I clawed it, all round me that midnight's giant clock of frost. And somewhere inside it, wanting to feel nothing, a pulse of fever. Somewhere inside that numbness of the earth our future trying to happen.
I look up - as if to meet your voice with all its urgent future that has burst in on me. Then look back at the book of the printed words. You are ten years dead. It is only a story. Your story. My story.
And I was your husband, performing the part of your father, in our new myth - Both of us drenched in a petroleum of ancient American sunlight. Both of us consumed by the old child in the new birth - Not the babe of light but the old. Babe of dark flames and screams that sucked the oxygen out of both of us. Birthday Letters, Ted Hughes
Sleep little pretty and dream of something fair and witty, run little one until you find some answers. Run little one until you find her. Hear droplets glistening, you will never guess who's listening. VIKTORIA TOLSTOY: MY RUSSIAN SOUL
Chavela Vargas - Paloma Negra - La Llorona La Lloronais is Spanish for The Weeping Woman who lost her children. When she reached the gates of heaven, she was asked, "Where are your children/" and she replied, 'I don't know, my Lord.' She was not permitted to enter heaven until she found her children. She now wanders the Earth for all eternity, searching in vain for her lost offspring.
Why memoir? It means the world becomes yours. If you don't do it, it drifts away and takes a whole piece of yourself with it, like an amputation. To attack it and attack it and get it under control - it's like taking possession of your life, isn't it? Ted Hughes
Denise Hagan - 9th Annual World Kindness Concert November 14th & 15th in Vancouver Canada. A musical evening featuring some talented local artists from a variety of cultures and influences all coming together to help make our community a kinder, safer place.
At the essence of every woman's heart is the divine feminine. It contains everything that has ever been beautiful, or lovely, or inspiring, in any woman, anywhere, at any time. The very essence of every woman's heart is the peak of wisdom, inspiration, and healing love. The peak of everything. But it’s protected, for good reason, by a series of concentric walls. To move inwardly from one wall to the next requires that you intensify your capacity to devotion, and as you do so, you are rewarded with Grace. This is not something you can negotiate verbally with a woman. She doesn't even know consciously how to open those gates herself. They are opened magically and invisibly by the keys of worship. Arjuna Ardagh
A speck that would have been beneath my sight on any but a paper sheet so white, set off across what I had written there. And I had idly poised my pen in air to stop it with a period of ink, when something strange about it made me think, this was no dust speck by my breathing blown, but unmistakably a living mite with inclinations it could call its own. It paused as with suspicion of my pen, and then came racing wildly on again to where my manuscript was not yet dry; Then paused again and either drank or smelt- with loathing, for again it turned to fly. Plainly with an intelligence I dealt. It seemed too tiny to have room for feet, yet must have had a set of them complete to express how much it didn't want to die. It ran with terror and with cunning crept. It faltered: I could see it hesitate; Then in the middle of the open sheet cower down in desperation to accept whatever I accorded it of fate. I have none of the tenderer-than-thou collectivistic regimenting love With which the modern world is being swept. But this poor microscopic item now! Since it was nothing I knew evil of I let it lie there till I hope it slept.
I have a mind myself and recognize mind when I meet with it in any guise, no one can know how glad I am to find on any sheet the least display of mind.
I felt my heart awaken, a loving spirit that was sleeping; and then I saw Love coming from far away, so glad, I could just recognize. Saying "you think you can honor me", and with each word laughing. And little being with me my lord, watching the way it came from, I saw lady Joan and lady Bice coming towards the spot I was at, one wonder past another wonder. And as my mind keeps telling me, Love said to me "She is Spring who springs first, and that bears the name Love, who resembles me." Dante
