The scenes of destruction from Gaza, reflect the ugly face of occupation. The Hate, despotism, cruelty, inhumanity. There is no equality in injustice, repression, evilness. I cannot but ask myself, what else do these people want from us? One would say, but you provoked. Let’s start from the beginning; the attempts to regulate Al Aqsa…
It’s been a while, I think, since I played any Supremes’ songs and tonight I was in the mood for their upbeat style, so I went in search of (and found) one that I haven’t played here before!
This was The Supremes’ fifth consecutive #1 hit in the US. It was, as most of The Supremes’ music was, written by the songwriting team of Eddie Holland, Lamont Dozier and Brian Holland, known collectively as Holland-Dozier-Holland. I did not know this, but The Supremes were the most commercially successful of Motown’s acts and the most successful American vocal group, with 12 number one singles on the Billboard Hot 100, all but one written by Holland-Dozier-Holland.
This was released in 1965 at a time when the friendship between the three — Diana Ross, Mary Wilson and Florence Ballard — was becoming strained, as Mary and Florence became frustrated that Diana Ross was…
Hey, everyone! It’s good to be back! I’ve been doing quite a bit of graphic designing lately since I’m still working on creating my own comic book about a team of disabled superheroes and it requires a lot of digital illustration. You guys always see my writing style showcased on my blog, but I rarely share my artwork here except for the ones I create specifically for this platform like the blog headers and the logo. So, I thought it would be cool to have a post where I show you some of my digital artwork since not many people tend to see them other than my family.
This is a self-portrait I created called Afro Poetry. The afro is full of different accounts I wrote about: my experience wearing my hair in its natural afro form for the first time, cultural identity, and the way people perceive me (I…
Dumincă după-masă într-un decor ca de teatru. Oameni zâmbitori, miros de aluaturi proaspete, măsline, fursecuri, cafea, flori de salcâm, ploaie, primăvară.
Ca orice oraș italian de talie mică, fotogenic și pictural, AP mă primește direct într-o aglomerație șarmantă de edificii medievale și renascentiste bine conservate, construite de romani la începuturile istoriei. Sufletul orașului a rămas neatins de secole. Mondializarea n-a pătruns încă.
Am petrecut aici doar o seară și o dimineață, insuficient pentru câte ai de văzut, de gustat, de savurat.
Am reușit să pătrund în câteva clădiri istorice, printre care un palat din secolul 15 transformat în hotel.
Armonia s-a menținut în decorul citadin în virtutea faptului că istoria orașului nu a cunoscut conflicte majore. Doar în 1185 l-au avut de înfruntat pe Federico II, ca mulți alții.
Dimpotrivă, în secolele trecute, principala activitate din urbe era creația artistică, spontană sau comandată de aristocrație.
The 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission removed Gov. Kevin Stitt from the panel just days after he had signed a bill that banned the teaching of certain concepts about race.
Self-transformation is not just about changing yourself. It means shifting yourself to a completely new dimension of experience and perception.
– Sadhguru-
An tiny egg turns into larva which then turns into a caterpillar, before finally, transforming into a beautiful butterfly, so too a human being can transform from ugly to beautiful.
The butterfly is a perfect metaphor for the ego. We can transform our ego from the ugly caterpillar that is leeching onto its existence, scared by what it see’s and continuously squirming to and fro in an effort to get ahead, yet barley making any progress.
We can transform that slow repetitive, predictable and agonizing route into a multi-dimensional and multi-directional, stunningly majestic butterfly.
Once the metamorphosis is completed in the fourth stage, abutterfly breaks out of the chrysalis and upon its own strength it emerges to explore new opportunities.
Trellis swathed in tulle
Draped with mauve and russet hues
Ring-a-ring of wild blossoms
In winds that spill prose
Auburn flushed tangled trees gleam
Paths mapped by pirouetting wings
Exploding to song
On a chrome mist of thyme scents
Cascading landscapes' prism
Lacquered in aurum
A finger painted sky lore
Where autumn bonfires smoke.
# Choka
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