{Once Upon an Easter} repeat part three.

I would like to thank all my followers for their dedicated comments on my blog and also all that responded to the last episode which did not open on some computers.   Also on today’s blog is link to the {lupus Foundation of America} an organization which my daughter Deanna is connected with.  Deanna is a lovely and brave woman who is fighting Lupus and I am proud of her and love her. Please feel free to enquire about art shown on any of my blog attached to this blog is a panting which is part of a series of art I have done on underground musicians. Please also sign up to be a follower.

With the coming of Easter also comes Easter showers and Campbellville always floods.  Mr. Kerry our neighbor had a speed boat which he would float down to the wide trench at the back of our homes called Milky.   And there gather all the boys of the street and we would go speeding up and down the trench. This was the water way where all the boys in the neighborhood learned how to swim.

Peter one of the older boys would lead us out to the middle of “Milky” floating on a log then take the log away and leave you in the middle. This called for desperate action frantic scramble to the shore line suddenly we were swimming.  Going to swimming in Milky was not however approved by my aunt. Therefore after concocting lies as to our reason for leaving the house we would end up at “Milky” swimming naked as we were born. Best way to swim one felt a sense of freedom. After swimming for hours we return to banks looking for our cloths which we hid under some shrub.  Only to discover to our horror that they were gone.  My older cousin while we were having fun had crept up and grabbed our cloths. This presented a big dilemma how do we get home without cloths?  Hands between our legs and over our bottoms. Picture that?  Total humiliation as we walked down the street the girls of the neighborhood to see us and laugh at us; then licks like peas when we got home. And if you don’t holler loud you get more licks not an easy proposition never the less, we have to journey home. May be we wait till dusk? Still not good proposition dusk is chilly and cold mosquitoes and Sand flies bite your tail. 

 

Once upon an Easter.

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ONCE UPON AN EASTER PART 2

Without further preamble I bring you episode two of {Once upon an Easter part 2}.

 Its five Am in the morning and Ramdas came calling.  {You really had to know the guy. He woke me up by throwing tiny bean seeds at my bedroom window}.  I spring up before he wakes up the whole house. It is also bird-catching season. The morning air is filled with different sounds of birds singing and chirping.  And just before sun raises you here the Cooks crowing around the neighborhood it is a festive time for all birds.  Ramdas and I plunge ourselves into the surrounding fields with high grass.  Ramdas already had a bird in his cage, attached to that cage is a mini cage with a trap door.  He also has some poles stuck with chewing gum remains. We wait as Ramada’s bird in the cage chirps away this attracts other bird’s kisskidy or a yellow breast.  We were hoping to trap one or two in the little cage or on the poles.

Most families are not up that early.  However because Ramada’s Father Works on the Sugar estate he had to be up early. We head to Ramdas bottom house his mother has brisk fireside going the air is filled with the aroma of hot cocoa and coffee brewing, and rotie being clapped by Ramada’s sister. On the next side of the fireside, his mother roasted some bologna chocker. Two plates were prepared we sit in hammock and ate with our hands as the cool morning breeze blows.

Once upon an Easter.

 

 

{ONCE UPON AN EASTER} REPEAT

As nostalgia for the past infuses my mind, sharing those times past with people I love worldwide becomes eminent. The narrative of past events of joys and sadness are shared. As we approach this eventful Easter, I bring you for the second season “Once Upon an Easter”.

ONCE UPON AN EASTER

School is on early Easter vacation.

The Campbellville Heroes as we fondly call ourselves were racing home on our bikes.  My bike “Yellow Bird” was an old model ladies bike fondly called a “Preggie”.  With a make, shift wooden bar.  On this wooden bar I towed my good friend Choe Chan.  Riding home, we made a screeching halt by the shave iceman for a snow cone with colorful sweet syrup.  This will cool us down from the hot sticky sun. We hoped to meet Ramdas and Suzie at the D. Y. C. playground.  Finally we got to the playground but the Subrianville Iguana’s had got there before us and had all intentions of hawking the field.  With nothing else to do but wait, we settled under the huge Ginip tree with its large branches and cool tropical breeze blowing. Ramdas however saved the day “would you believe it he had a flour bag full of mangoes”. We ate as much as we could.  Now it was barging time. We dealt the rest to the Iguana’s to get them off the cricket pitch. By the time we got home from cricket, Choe Chan’s mother had prepared for us some Chinese cake with some cold Sorrel drink.  We ate then left and went to the back of my home to start making our own cricket bats.  Sometimes, we made then out of old coconut branches that had fallen from the trees and at other times out old pieces of wood we found around our yard.

The start of Easter holidays.

Once upon an Easter

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New York City

It’s midnight and the city is live. New York City -- its energy, its people, its the shows, its life. There is fantasy - Batman, Mickey Mouse, skulls and bones.  The night is alive with scenes of love.  It’s the heart of winter yet the air is free, girls in mid riffs, guys in shorts, sandals and boots as well as kids in carriages ladies in coats.  There is this constant buzz of activity in New York City Night which leaves you mesmerized. I love this city - may it never change.

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THAT DAY WAS CHRISTMAS

 

When is it Christmas? How do you know when it is Christmas? Is it just the one day? Could it be any day?

Two years ago on a winter’s night, I was heading to a party.  I hopped on to the E train from Queens, New York heading to a party in Brooklyn. The train stopped at Seventh Avenue where I changed for the D train to take me into Brooklyn. I sat on the bench waiting for the D train to arrive.  Looking up the track, I could see the lights of the approaching train. Out of nowhere, a man stumbles and falls on to the tracks of the oncoming train. Simultaneously, a tall, lanky man who was also sitting on the bench with his wife and two children plunged into action. He jumped on the tracks to rescue the fallen man. To his dismay the fallen man was double his weight.  Another gentleman and I witnessed these series of events with growing alarm. Now there were two men in danger and the train was fast approaching.  We plunged in to action - first assisting the tall, slim man to first lift the fallen hefty man to safety.  We then quickly hoisted the rescuer himself up on the platform. Seconds later the train pulled into the station. We lifted the man on to the bench. Then we boarded the train on our way to our private destinations. That day was Christmas.

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DISARMAMENT

ERIDICATE ARMS

TOTAL DISARMAMENT

Yesterday, December 16^th, I went to church to pray for the kids and adults of Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown. I went to church to see if religion had a solution for the unprovoked deadly violence carried out at Newtown.  I left church achieving only one goal - prayers for the dead. Was I secure while in church? Are we secured anywhere with our present gun laws?  I then I came home. I watched President Obama’s speech on television. Upon his exit from the stage, the tight security measures designed to protect him were in and of themselves a reminder of how our inadequate gun laws make even the most good-natured interactions insecure. Even in the face of this tragedy and the peaceful nature of the President’s visit, there was a sense of insecurity as he exited. I have come to the conclusion total disarmament in every nation is a viable solution.

The art that accompanies this blog is a painting I did in 1993 during the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The Sculptor was by Carl Fredrik Reutersward.  Gift of Luxembourg 1988.

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Jimi Hendrix

 I am about to exit the subway  at Prince Street Soho New York, Suddenly my ears are perked up  I hear the music of Jimi Hendrix coming from , a  Jimi Hendrix impersonator playing 'Purple Haze' and the sound of his Wa wah, just  floored me with Joy.

 It’s the late sixties I am in Ghana West Africa.  I quit school swung my guitar around my shoulder and join the Hippie generation at home.  Jimi Hendrix record being played twenty four hours a day in my room. The base note of 'Hey Joe 'is the only synchronized musical combination I can play on my guitar. I slip on my psychedelic flower shirt, which my mom sowed for me, and my bright color orange bell bottoms pants and Beatle shoes, dark glassed.  Lose my hair in the afro style. Then head to one of the popular lounging spots in heart Accra Ghana.  Before I go any further the afro hair was an ordeal, first I had to have my hair plaited or tied up the way it is done in Ghana, and this comes with lots of pain. School term begin I do not return, instead I become a Guinea Pig Tester for the West Africa ‘O’ Levels Mathematics.

Feel free to enquire of all art featured on my blog.

 

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