A blog of my thoughts, inspirations, creations and pastimes as my left-handed mind maneuvers thru space and time...BE INFINITE!
ask me whatever
Portraits of America
“My family is from Eritrea, and I’m really interested in going back and working there.”
“What do you like the most about Eritrea?”
“I like the people because they are very humble, sweet and dignified. They work really hard, and they don’t experience the same social inequalities that exist in this country. They are a lot more united than the people here. I feel that the warmth is missing here. The thread that weaves this country together is money, not meeting people’s needs.”
“Why do you think Eritreans are more united?”
“I think African culture has always been more communalist. People live in close proximity to each other, and you are raised by your village. You can’t afford to be individualistic in a society that doesn’t have much, so the village or commune shares a water well. Individualism kind of sprouted out in Europe. When Europeans started extracting resources from Africa and elsewhere, they were able to build a society in which people had more. Africans have never taken resources in abundance from other countries in the same way. I think the whole theory of development came from the West. What is developed? Exploiting the Earth? That’s degenerative. The term development is relative and is defined within a Western framework.”
Family!!! Cousins!!! BeauTifull!!!
My family! Gorgeous 😍😍 #blackwomen #beauty #blackisbeautifulAll By myself
I’ve been taking African dance classes for over a year now and it is one of my new found passions. Dancing was always instinctual and came effortlessly but when I discovered the world of African dance, my eyes were opened to a new way of expression. It more than just whining your waist and two-stepping… it tells a story. It is elegant and strong; confident yet delicate…. challenging and fulfilling!
This class in particular is Afro-Haitian Dance and it is beyond!
Maybe one day my dream of dancing professionally will be a reality.
*I am in the line on the left, fourth from the front, wearing a gray shirt*
Bongo Moses: Keeper of the WHITE RIVER.
"Real definition of RASTA to me is the way of LIFE. We are not a religion, its just a way of LIFE. Practicing peace and love, and the true meaning of LIFE. No Racism."
"The logo is to grow our natural hair into locks, eat ITAL food and to keep away from the city as much as possible beacause of pollution, confusion and revolution. LIFE is in the interior… it is in NATURE."
"Right now we are in the Aquarian age, this age of learning where people will seek the CREATOR throught NATURE because people have realized that the church and politics had failed them and people are not listening to them anymore.. People will seek their nourishment through NATURE."
#thetafari #ITAL #Rasta #Rastafari #alpha #omega #bongoman #Dominica #bongoMoses #keeper of the #white #river #boutthat #natural #peace #love #life #plantbased #lifestyle
Moringa, Moringa, Moringa… I love thee, let me count the ways… actually Djehuty Ma’at-Ra will do it.
drop the soy and eat a whole heap a this
ancient wisdom from Burkina Faso… this is a message we all can benefit from. embrace who you are and who you chose to be.
wouldn’t it be nice to live in a world where second-guessing yourself or not following your instincts didn’t exist? how many times have we done this and despite saying we won’t do it again, do it again anyway (or is it only me that does this?) well I’m hoping now that it’s in writing that this will be the last time. lesson learned.
You are going to be initiated into the white man’s witchcraft…In your labyrinthine journey in the white world, the world of iron, learn to catch the thought behind the machine or it will swallow youMalidoma Patrice Somé
Remember you have options. Remember you have power.
Hold down your integrity. Hold down your pride.
Never let your light go.
Don’t break, don’t bend, don’t bow.
Don’t fold, don’t fall, don’t falter.
There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.
In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.
The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
The beauty in this post… :’)