Thursday, January 04, 2007

Feliz Compleanos Mamasita!

MySpace Layouts

MySpace Layouts


Ila's first movie!


For you;

PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees
Then they swarm around me
A hive of honey bees.
I say
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth
The swing of my waist
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back
The sun of my smile
The ride of my breasts
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say
It's in the click of my heels
The bend of my hair
The palm of my hand
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me.

To music!




WHEN YOU HAVE A MOTHER.

When you have a mother
who cares so much for you
that anything you want
becomes her desires
When you have a mother
who is so understanding that
no matter what is bothering you
she can make you smile
When you have a mother
who is so strong that
no matter what obstacles she faces
she is always confident in front of you
When you have a mother
who actively pursues her goals in life
but includes you in all her goals
you are very lucky indeed
Having a mother like this
makes it easy to grow up
into a loving, strong adult
Thank you for being this kind
of wonderful mother.

~Susan P Schutz~

Happy Birthday You,
from the familia

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Great words from a great woman-Lee Maracle

I searched for a Lee Maracle website but found none. I did find an amazing essay on Christopher Columbus which I will post over on my other site.
From I Am Woman-A Native Perspective on Sociology and Feminism

I want to heal your spirit and...awaken that which keeps trying to come alive in you. I can see it under the veneer you have covered it with. I can feel it in your rage and in your meaness at all times. I can see it in the sadness on your face. The heartache written there was not put there by me or you. It is maintained by your succumbing to it.

Reflections From The Summit

I am not a rose in your lapel
I am an annoying dandelion.
Useful to you
should you want to bring
love to your community.

I am useless to a middle-class aspirant.
Harmful to someone who wants to live
above the poverty line,
enjoy luncheons on Friday
and dine out twice monthly.

I subtract
from your ability
to vacation once per annum.
I stand in the way of your need
to be only half there.

I am an asset to the man
who seeks liberation
from the death colonialism is.
Valuable to a man
who seeks escape
from the lonely castles built for the elite.

I am passion,
bright red and turbulent,
vehemently cutting a swath
through this brick, steel
and concrete tundra.

I am compassion,
soft, warm and winsome,
pleadingly coaxing gentleness
from the burning anger
of your spirit.

Lee Maracle , 1950-

Metis

Lee Maracle was born in 1950 and raised in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. After dropping out of school to join the hippie subculture and to work as a political activist, she attended Simon Fraser University. Besides being a professor at the University of Toronto, she has also been the Stanley Knowles Visiting Professor in Canadian Studies at the University of Waterloo. She was one of the founders of the En'owkin International School of Writing in Penticton, BC (1981); a learning institute with an Indigenous Fine Arts Program and an Okanagon Language Program. In 2001, Maracle was appointed Distinguished Visiting Professor of Canadian Culture at Western Washington University to engage in activities focused on promoting Canadian culture and awareness. She is a member of the Red Power Movement and Liberation Support Movement. Maracle has been the Traditional Cultural Director of The Centre for Indigenous Theatre and has worked as an instructor of dramatic composition and theatrical representation. Maracle's works reflect her antipathy toward racism, sexism, and white cultural domination.

Books by Lee Maracle:

Maracle, Lee. Bent box
Penticton, B.C. : Theytus Books, 2000.
Genre: Poetry
Description: 128 p. ; p., 23 cm.
Audience: Adult
ISBN: 0919441890
Maracle, Lee. Daughters are Forever
Vancouver, BC : Raincoast Books, 2002.
Genre: Fiction
Description: 250 pages
This novel depicts the transformation of a Salish woman who feels alienated from her culture and family. She heals herself by rediscovering her roots and culture and by reconciling with her daughters.
Audience: Adult
ISBN: 1551924102
Maracle, Lee. I am woman : a native perspective on sociology and feminism
Vancouver, B.C. : Press Gang Publishers, 1996.
Genre: Biography
Description: 142 p. ; 22 cm.
Indian women--British Columbia--Biography.
ISBN: 0889740593
Maracle, Lee. Ravensong
Vancouver, B.C : Press Gang Publishers, 1995.
Genre: Fiction
Description: A novel set in a Native community of the Pacific Northwest in the 1950's.
Audience: All Ages
ISBN: 0889740445
Maracle, Lee. Sojourner's Truth.
Vancouver : Press Gang , 1990.
Genre: Short Stories
Maracle, Lee. Sundogs : a novel
Penticton, B.C. : Theytus Books, 1992.
Genre: Fiction
Description: 214 p. ; 21 cm.
Audience: Adult
Maracle, Lee. Will's Garden
Pentictan, BC : Theytus Books, 2002.
Genre: Fiction
Description: 7.7 x 5.1 x 0.5 inches; 224 pages
People and Places--Mutlicultural Stories--Native People (Canada)
Audience: Youth
ISBN: 1894778022

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

123 Book Tag

Since it was Kara who tagged me I just had to play along and this tied in to her post about picking up a book randomly and reading the first thing you see while remaining open to the lessons it holds for you whether you like them or not. I had The Essential Rumi on my desk to choose a quote from for the new writing book I start every year and figured I would just roll them all into one...
Here are the 'rules'...

Here's the idea :
Find the nearest book.
Name the book
The author
Turn to page 123
Go to the fifth sentence on the page
Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog. Tag three more folks.

There are only 5 lines on page 123...

Are you jealous of the ocean's generosity?
Why would you refuse to give
this joy to anyone?

Fish don't hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim in the huge fluid freedom.

As I had this song stuck in my head ALL day on my birthday the above was too fitting...

"Swandive"

cradling the softest, warmest part of you in my hand
feels like a little baby bird fallen from the nest
i think that your body is something i understand
i think that i'm happy, i think that i'm blessed

i've got a lack of inhibition
i've got a loss of perspective
i've had a little bit to drink
and it's making me think
that i can jump ship and swim
that the ocean will hold me
that there's got to be more
than this boat i'm in

'cuz they can call me crazy if i fail
all the chance that i need
is one-in-a-million
and they can call me brilliant
if i succeed
gravity is nothing to me, moving at the speed of sound
i'm just going to get my feet wet
until i drown

and i teeter between tired
and really, really tired
im wiped and im wired but i guess its just as well
because i built my own empire
out of car tires and chicken wire
and i'm queen of my own compost heap
and i'm getting used to the smell

and i've got a lack of information
but i got a little revelation
and i'm climbing up on the railing
trying not to look down
i'm going to do my best swan dive
in the shark-infested waters
i'm gonna pull out my tampon
and start splashing around

'cuz i don't care if they eat me alive
i've got better thing to do than survive
i've got a memory of your warm skin in my hand
and i've got a vision of blue sky and dry land

i'm cradling the hardest, heaviest part of me in my hand
the ship is pitching and heaving, my limbs are bobbing and weaving
and i think this is what i understand
i just need a little vaccination for my far-away vacation
i'm going to go ahead boldly because a little bird told me
that jumping is easy, that falling is fun
up until you hit the sidewalk, shivering, stunned

and they can call me crazy if i fail
all the chance that i need
is one-in-a-million
and they can call me brilliant
if i succeed
gravity is nothing to me
moving at the speed of sound
i'm just gonna get my feet wet
until i drown...

I still dont know about this tagging thing though....I still havent really ventured out into blogland and it is too late to start tonight. I will come back to it though I have a few people in mind...is that cheating?

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Mr. Marley on life

Life and Jah are one in the same.
Jah is the gift of existence.
I am in some way eternal, I
will never be duplicated.
The sigularity of every man and woman is Jah's gift. What we struggle to make of it is our sole gift to Jah. The process of that struggle becomes, in time, the Truth.

Bob Marley

Friday, December 15, 2006

Quote of the Now

I havent been finding the time to write here and at my other blog daily though I have lots I want to add here it will have to wait a little longer. I have such an absurdly large collection of quotations that I can definitley manage to post one a day though. Here's one from Henry Rollins anarchist wordsmith extrodinaire, I think this one is pretty relevant for this indulgent time of year...

Go without a coat when it's cold; find out what cold is. Go hungry; keep your existence lean. Wear away the fat, get down to the lean tissue and see what it's all about. The only time you define your character is when you go without. In times of hardship, you find out what you're made of and what you're capable of. If you're never tested, you'll never define your character.
- Henry Rollins

Monday, December 11, 2006

following bliss poetically

I wrote this the night before reading a post about following your bliss
which I have also written on @ the centre
I thought I would post it over here instead...just for variety.

In Sointu-Finnish phrase meaning within the clear note of harmony
Sointu-Tone n Finnish
Sointula-Place of Harmony n Finnish

i am a circle barely 24 years round
my history like a stone in the pocket of my life
nearly worn smooth with the ceaseless rubbing of passing days
i pile the time on my face and hands
each passing moment leaving it's name upon my skin
memories printed with indelible ink
a patchwork mosaic of loves and losses
mapping dusks and dawns
my testament to change
holy words written
in every curve and line
beyond the more obvious trappings of skin and bone
beats a passionate tatoo
rythym pulsing in communion
singing a warriors song of rebellion
sounding a long sighing cry in praise of
all creation

i am trying to live within that thrumming sound
that bell bright ringing
a redemptive calling me
to arms
open wide
seeking that perfect note
in sointu
in sointula
within a song of harmony

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Ani Appreciation Day

Let's have a moment of Ani appreciation who has yet to give up or in, but just keeps pushing on and out and over. Three cheers for heroes and rebels in these sanitized times. Remember: "when freedom is outlawed only outlaws will be free."-Tom Robbins



self evident

yes,
us people are just poems
we're 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it's part of a pair
there on the bow of noah's ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its indian summer breeze
on the day that america
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
or please

and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky

and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything i've seen so far
so far
so far
so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on
and i'll tell you what, while we're at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every tv
that's been trying to convince me
to participate
in some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution
perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
is still hanging in the air
and there's ash on our shoes
and there's ash in our hair
and there's a fine silt on every mantle
from hell's kitchen to brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
and pour

so here's a toast to all the folks who live in palestine
afghanistan
iraq

el salvador

here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore

here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of oklahoma city
just to listen to a young woman's voice

here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner's guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream

cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
i mean
it don't take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks
and boy did he ever

and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 george w. bush is not president
#2 america is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz i am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
i've got no room for a lie so verbose
i'm looking out over my whole human family
and i'm raising my glass in a toast

here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
i dream of touring like duke ellington
in my own railroad car
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face

give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
and clear the air
get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand
of someone else's desert
put it back in its pants
and quit the hypocritical chants of
freedom forever

cuz when one lone phone rang
in two thousand and one
at ten after nine
on nine one one
which is the number we all called
when that lone phone rang right off the wall
right off our desk and down the long hall
down the long stairs
in a building so tall
that the whole world turned
just to watch it fall



and while we're at it
remember the first time around?
the bomb?
the ryder truck?
the parking garage?
the princess that didn't even feel the pea?
remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?

can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design
following a fantastical reversal of the new york skyline?!

it was a joke, of course
it was a joke
at the time
and that was just a few years ago
so let the record show
that the FBI was all over that case
that the plot was obvious and in everybody's face
and scoping that scene
religiously
the CIA
or is it KGB?
committing countless crimes against humanity
with this kind of eventuality
as its excuse
for abuse after expensive abuse
and it didn't have a clue
look, another window to see through
way up here
on the 104th floor
look
another key
another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day
should be more than pawns
in some asshole's passion play
so now it's your job
and it's my job
to make it that way
to make sure they didn't die in vain
sshhhhhh....
baby listen
hear the train?