dispelling ignorance makes the world a better place

a segment on and including classical Sikh sacred music.

speaking from a seminar on how Sikhs are portrayed in the media, targeted to British audiences;

the lack of any American dialogue on the place of this important religious community in our own society has proved itself intensely regrettable.

every culture is a living thing, and thereby intrinsically beautiful.  

we have only to open our eyes to see.

The human body is the door to salvation.

               Dadu Dayal

keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!

The Giant of Boston, figure in mismatched pattern wearing a jacket on its head, traditional impossible contortion typical of Latin American classical indigenous art by Brazilian artists Os Gemeos temporarily installed in Dewey Square, Boston.
see what Americans had to say about it.

an early example of magical realism.

INTRODUCTION TO COSMOGRAPHY
WITH CERTAIN PRINCIPLES OF GEOMETRY AND
ASTRONOMY NECESSARY FOR THIS MATTER

ADDITIONALLY, THE FOUR VOYAGES OF
AMERIGO VESPUCCI

it's Vertigo.

but seriously.  it's vertigo this time.
better luck next decade, groundhog day.

the gal you love is dead.

Eddie James "Son" House:
probably one of the raddest human beings ever.

ancient Lacondon narrative graffiti

Classic murality.

Might not live past 21

hide out.

no small labor

"So now, I tell you, drop this anger for your son.
By now some fighter better than he, a stronger hand
Has gone down in his own blood, or soon will go.
It is no small labor to rescue all mankind,
Every mother's son."


Iliad
Book XV

Honey, get the map.

Get lost.

Judge Dread goes soft

Prince Buster

The Earth Shakes

'Awaken, already the sky is rosy,

already dawn has come,
already sing the flame-coloured guans,
the fire-coloured swallows,
already the butterflies fly.'

Thus the old ones said
that who has died has become a god,
they said: 'He has been made a god there,
meaning 'He has died.'

Even jade is shattered,
Even gold is crushed,
Even quetzal plume are torn . . .
One does not live forever on this earth:
We endure only for an instant!

Will flowers be carried to the Kingdom of Death:
Is it true that we are going, we are going?
Where are we going, ay, where are we going?
Will we be dead there or will we live yet?
Does one exist again?

Perhaps we will live a second time?
Thy heart knows:
Just once do we live!.
Like a quetzal plume, a fragrant flower,
friendship sparkles:
like heron plumes, it weaves itself into finery.

Our song is a bird calling out like a jingle:
how beautiful you make it sound!
Here, among flowers that enclose us,
among flowery boughs you are singing.

Nezahualcoyotl

Beautiful synesthesia

Kandinsky

Whew.