♫ Another Saturday Night ♫ (Redux +1) | Filosofa’s Word

Sam Cooke wrote this when he was touring England in 1962 with Little Richard.  Cat Stevens also recorded it in 1974, and later (1993), Jimmy Buffett of Margaritaville fame recorded it, but … I always prefer the Sam Cooke version.  I didn’t realize it, but this was the first song Cooke released after the tragic drowning death of his 18-month-old son, Vincent.

Cooke was one of the first African-American artists to truly cross over onto the Pop charts and resonate with white audiences. Cooke cultivated his crossover success, opening up venues to African-American artists that had largely been denied them.

This one charted at in Canada, in the U.S., and in the UK.

Another Saturday Night
Sam Cooke 

Source: ♫ Another Saturday Night ♫ (Redux +1) | Filosofa’s Word

(37) At least 12 family members dead after Israeli strike on Gaza’s Maghazi refugee camp – YouTube

Palestinian medical officials say an Israeli strike hit a house in central Gaza early Saturday, killing at least 12 people including three children and four women. The dead are from the same family in the urban Maghazi refugee camp, and they include three siblings, according to the al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in the nearby city of Deir al-Balah, where the casualties were taken.

Donald Trump, American Fascist – by Thomas Zimmer

Donald Trump, American fascist

Donald Trump, let’s start here, has a fascistic way of describing the problem – and offers a fascistic solution. According to Trump and those who support him, the country is in decline. It is threatened by outsiders – immigrants, invaders who are “poisoning the blood” of the nation and bringing in “bad genes,” as Trump has put it. The nation is also threatened by the “enemy within”: Un-American forces of radical leftism and globalist elites, even more acutely dangerous than the invaders from without. If Trump is to be believed, in order to restore this declining nation to former glory, to Make it Great Again, it has as to be “purified” – the enemies have to be purged. Trump has repeatedly promised to round up and deport 15, 20, maybe 25 million people – a deportation operation of unprecedented scale, explicitly targeting non-white immigrants, necessitating the creation of a federal deportation force unlike anything that currently exists. “Palingenetic ultranationalism,” the political theorist Roger Griffin has argued, forms a core myth of fascism – “palingenesis” means re-birth or re-creation, a movement or ideology desiring the rebirth of the nation through revolutionary change…

Source: Donald Trump, American Fascist – by Thomas Zimmer

Slg0109 Global challenge of war – Frits Ahlefeldt

We humans spend more and more of our resources on weapons designed to kill our own species, in 2023 the world used 2.44 Trillion USD on arms ( That is 2440 Billion USD)

What disarmament could do for us and the planet

Text and drawing by Frits Ahlefeldt

2.44 trillion – 2440.000.000.000 US dollars is a staggering number ( Source Statista.com link ) and the number is rising as fear of war grows. The crazy thing is that those resources could save us and the rest of life on Earth from the worst effects of the much larger climate and biodiversity crises underway, but compared on what we spend on arms, very little is spent on helping climate and biodiversity… Imagine it was the other way around..

I made a short 1.min video as part of my storylinegrid on what we could do with all that money, instead of preparing for war…

YouTube Video 1. m.


Source: Slg0109 Global challenge of war – Frits Ahlefeldt

Knife Fights that Almost Were, and The Real Question | Context, Thought, and Learning: ShiraDest Offers Project Do Better

Knife Fights that Almost Were, and The Real Question

I don’t know why, but I feel as if this story needs to be told, even though it may not be mine to tell. Nevertheless, it needs to be told. For the sake of those who are being worked over by a system bent on keeping them over a barrel, and for the sake of those morons in other countries who seem to see the USA as the land of promise and dreams. Here is a small bit of the reality of this place where those with no one to defend them end up being taught to go after each other, instead of turning their rightful rage on the actual perpetrators.

I was finally working in a place where I believed I might be able to do some actual good. Working for no salary, of course, as a volunteer, but still, maybe in a place where I could help make just a little bit of a difference for somebody who had even less than I did. Here in Albuquerque, that was easy to find. First Nations people, misplaced Native Americans trapped in this city with no resources, treated like vermin, along side destitute Americans, desperate immigrants, and bewildered refugees, all thrown together like so much trash. And one little center for Human Rights trying to help them, with no resources but donated pastries. The protein was kept by the bougies. So of course people were homeless, and of course they fought over the safest places to sleep, out on the streets. And so, of course, she carried a knife. A pretty big one, too. When she confided this to me, she knew I ought to have had her banned from the center, but she also knew that I would do no such thing. The same way she knew I would know how to braid her hair as I tried to get her to wait her turn in a very overly crowded and horrifically underfunded medicaid center. In vain. She stormed out after waiting less than an hour, unable to keep her 19 year old impulse to flee the stench of tiredness, despair, and anger wafting over from all of the other hopeless waiters in line. We’d managed to get a spot just a little bit isolated, two chairs in each row cleared almost as if by magic when they saw us stomp in together, a bundle of fury and myself trying to keep her in check long enough to get the help she was legally entitled to have. Also in vain. And the lone social worker clearly knew it, as I shot an apologetic glance at her, through a window backed by protective material separating her from all of us, the rif-raf waiting for her help. I chased my charge, whom I called my adoptive niece in order to remind her not to try flirting with me, out of the building, hoping that she would be able to keep her temper long enough to eat something at the center, and maybe try to go back to get that medicaid card. Agian, in vain. At the center, sitting in the volunteer office working on deep breathing, another hopeless person walked in, sat down at the small table directly across from her, and things went rapidly down-hill from there. Looks were fired off, resulting in hurt feelings, but with none of the words that might have explained and smoothed over the situation. Insults were traded, and then, of course, both of them were standing up, as one walked out of the office, and I began to hope that things would be ok. Yet again, in vain. My young ‘niece’ charged out into the hall after the person she felt had so gravely insulted her, with myself and the office manager, a paid employee, in hot pursuit, following the shouts emanating from both of them. I saw what I was afraid I might see, just as the two hopeless people turned to face each other again, this time with no table in between them, as one arm began to reach behind a back which I knew to have a large knife strapped to it, and I ran, conscious though escaping me, to stop her from pulling out that knife and carving up the other person who had also lost hope in life, longer ago than she had. Unfortunately for me, both of them were bigger than I was. I moved into a lung, trapping her knife hand in mine while using the other arm to push her back, using every ounce of my strength and weight, holding her as I would have held a block in a breaking dam, praying that that dam would not break and gush forth the torrents of rage I was trying to hold back, sweeping us all away. I heard a voice behind me, and felt a back hit mine. I recognized the voice of my Volunteer manager, and felt her supporting me, solid, and far heavier than I was, helping me push our angry young woman back down the hall and toward the door. Finally, the door opened, and our young fury left, knife undrawn, and I was able to breath. I heard compliments on my ability to hold back someone larger than myself, but what I was wondering was why no one asked the real question, hanging heavy in the air. Why did that even have to have taken place, at all? Why were the resources unavailable to furnish the help that both of those poor miserable souls, so lacking in hope, needed? Why does our society not care enough to really solve the problems that are so clearly able to be solved, if we really wanted to solve them? Why does our system make it so damnably difficult to access housing and health care, when those two things almost single-handedly would solve the problems of so many people that are written off by the large American society? Why do we not Do Better?

Nia, fka Shira, Shira D. Anto. Jones of ShiraDest publications…

Source: Knife Fights that Almost Were, and The Real Question | Context, Thought, and Learning: ShiraDest Offers Project Do Better

Theme and Variations – Zettl Fine Arts

A Reflection on a Blossom in Autumn

Theme and Variations: In the small series today the delicate image of a fading blossom takes center stage, offering an allusion to the graceful aging of a young lady. While an autumn subject might traditionally invite warm, vibrant colors, the pieces presented here downplay color, instead focusing on subtler elements.

What is the essence of today’s exploration? It is an artistic challenge, or rather a disciplined practice, to transform a simple subject with these guiding principles:

  • Focus solely on a minimalistic theme or detail.
  • Gradually reduce elements during the creative process to reach the essence.
  • Avoid the pursuit of superficial beauty or common aesthetic appeal.
  • Seek a deeper, spiritual beauty that transcends conventional expectations.

By stripping away distractions, we are confronted with the need to add something meaningful in place of what is lost, ensuring the work doesn’t dissolve into insignificance.

Approach to the Theme and Variations

I revisited a theme I explored not long ago in a previous article [Visit of the old Zen Master and other Nonzens] with an image of a graying flower in an unkempt Zen garden. While there are multiple layers to this concept, focusing too much on them here would dilute the message.

flower in a zen garden

At the heart of this approach lies the idea of reduction—revealing only what is necessary. So, how do we reduce even further? By stripping away everything that doesn’t serve the core message. The first task, therefore, is to define that central theme. In this case, the story unfolds like this—a familiar tale for many: A young woman, once consumed by her beauty, never found anyone worthy of it. Now, in the late autumn of her life, she lies withered on the ground, providing delight to the beetles and ants.

flower in autumn variations
In the first Theme and Variations attempt, the stem of the flower is still an important element – not only compositionally.

Theme and Variations – Removing and Adding

When we take something away, we must also add something meaningful in return to avoid emptiness. In shaping this simple story, we’ve already added a layer of depth, even if it may not be immediately apparent without explanation. From here, I can further evolve this “story” into a poem, adding a layer of poetry to the artistic process.

withered blossom
In the second attempt, the stem of the flower on the right side is only vaguely present

I chose to write the poem in Chinese to give the work a classical tone, but also to allow for greater freedom in composition. Through this, the balance between reduction and addition is restored within the overall piece.

驕傲的綻放未被觸及的落下,
秋天的泥土,她的安息之地,
螞蟻和甲蟲歡呼。

withered blossom variations
In the third attempt, the stem of the flower has disappeared. With the breakdown of the colophon (title in seal script, poem and signature) more light comes into play. The black in the center of the flower acts as a counterpoint.

Adding a Poetry Aspect

In a final step, I reduced the poem even more—transforming it into a semi-haiku, preserving its essence while embracing simplicity.

Semi-Haiku:

Proud bloom, fallen low,
Autumn’s gift for creatures small,
Nature’s gentle touch.

blossom in autumn variations

Theme and Variations in a Musical Context

Finally, and to explain the title of this article, I have tried to introduce music into the process. I recently wrote an article on this topic as well. [Can We Hear a Painting?]

As mentioned earlier, Johann Sebastian Bach holds a special place in my work, so I approached this variation process much like a classical musician would with seemingly simple variations on a theme.

variations on a blossom
The last attempt is at the same time the maximum reduction or abandonment of pleasing appearance that I was able to achieve in this series. And at the same time the maximum reference to poetry and music that I was able to achieve.

Naturally, the question arises: Can this theme be further developed? Absolutely. Can I continue to reduce the elements and reach a higher level of expression? That is certainly possible, but it will require a longer phase of reflection. As we all know, it’s often beneficial to set projects aside for a while, allowing them (or better, us) to mature before revisiting them with fresh eyes and new insights.

Note:

To avoid any potential misunderstandings, I want to clarify that all of my works, unless specifically noted otherwise, are hand-painted. Most pieces are created using ink or mixed media. When an image like the one below appears in my articles, it means that the graphic itself was hand-painted by me but is displayed in a virtual setting—a space crafted with the help of a graphics program.

framed artwork

 

 

 

Source: Theme and Variations – Zettl Fine Arts

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