WHAT CAN WE DO? | LET’S DO SOMETHING! | How can we Organize the Human Community?

Democracy is Dying and it's Startling, Few Worried, Paul Mason

Democracy is Dying and it’s Startling How Few are Worried Paul Mason

I have been in France just under a month. I found out not even two hours ago through a conversation on skype with my sister who lives in England and France, that during the time we were back in the United States of Apathy, that ICE (i hadn’t know what this was, i thought ICE was simply In Case of Emergency) However I learned from my sister today about the other version. (ICE) Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

I hadn’t known what ICE meant, I had to google it. http://www.newsweek.com/immigration-immigration-and-customs-enforcement-ice-donald-trump-628896

ICE had come into the town of Lebanon, PA into a catholic church on a Sunday, and rounded up dozens of people, probably mostly men, of darker skin, and packed them into a van to take to another town to sit in jail, awaiting trial, perhaps a 1 or 2 year wait.

Newsweek, ICE raid, Risk, Deportation

Newsweek ICE raid Who Is At Risk Deportation.

While visiting the USA just a month ago, my sister befriended a guy from El Salvador who stayed in the motel room next to her. He’s been in the USA for 25 years, has a green card and has several kids and a wife in Virginia. Presently he’s been in central Pennsylvania working in construction to support his family. He was one of the people rounded up and loaded into this van. My sister attempted to stay with him, holding his hand, went into the van, and the police officer warned her with a tone of reproach that she better get the hell out of there if she knows what’s good for her.

The El Salvadoran gave my sister his phone and the number of his wife to call in VA. My sister said that his wife was screaming when she heard the news. Her life support money-earner for herself and her kids, disposed of.

War Zone Desperate and Dead Mondediplio

War Zone Desperate and Dead Mondediplio

I knew nothing of this. I was just reading headlines last night about 500 people in Turkey under questioning or worse, for attempting to overthrow a dictator. I know nothing of this Turkey official and hadn’t read the story yet.

500 in court, Turkey Coup Attempt 2016, CNN

Nearly 500 in court Turkey Coup Attempt 2016 CNN

Yet I thought to myself, can not the world step in and change this situation? That was before I knew what was happening in the neighboring town while I was sleeping on a Sunday morning. WTF.

 

 

What can we do? Sit back, crack open a beer and hang out with friends, watch a TV show, get ready to arrange the schedule of picking up the kids from their practice…..when before our eyes a military dictatorship fascist embarrassment of a President is enforcing this sweep of people across the country who have been living and working here, taking jobs that Americans haven’t wanted, and who were brought here to do the dirty jobs that help our system to run efficiently, are suddenly afraid to leave their homes to go to the grocery store?

Stop Swooning over Justin Trudeau, Climate Disaster, Bill McKibben

Stop Swooning over Justin Trudeau Climate Disaster Bill McKibben

McKibben writes for the Guardian, “Yes, 173bn barrels is indeed the estimate for recoverable oil in the tar sands. So let’s do some math. If Canada digs up that oil and sells it to people to burn, it will produce, according to the math whizzes at Oil Change International, 30% of the carbon necessary to take us past the 1.5C target that Canada helped set in Paris.

That is to say, Canada, which represents one half of 1% of the planet’s population, is claiming the right to sell the oil that will use up a third of the earth’s remaining carbon budget. Trump is a creep and a danger and unpleasant to look at, but at least he’s not a stunning hypocrite.”

Out of Wreckage, A New Politics, Age of Crisis, George Monbiot

Out of the Wreckage A New Politics for an Age of Crisis George Monbiot

Monbiot writes, “A toxic ideology rules the world – of extreme competition and individualism. It misrepresents human nature, destroying hope and common purpose. Only a positive vision can replace it, a new story that re-engages people in politics and lights a path to a better world.”

What are we going to do?

Immigrants from Syria and other parts of the world, war/climate immigrants are escaping deplorable situations to come to the West, which has been living amply, to be treated with hostility and turned away with barbwire. Black market money to stuff people on rickety over-loaded boats, taking peoples’ life savings, to flee situations, only to find that the rest of the world is not helping to organize their safe transport.

This is very, very wrong. We can use the money from the enormous profits from banks, international corporations who make millions and billions in profit, to set up communities, and renewable energy enterprises to re-esatablish safe havens.

This is not right. We can’t read news and do nothing like it isn’t our problem. In some countries people are having 12 to 16 babies. A large part of the problem of GLOBAL WARMING/CLIMATE CHANGE IS due to over-population. We are sucking up the soil, destroying habitats of other animals who have a right to life.

Humans need to be accountable.

We need to be accountable for what is happening ALL OVER THE WORLD.

We Are Humanity Film, Jarawa documentary

We Are Humanity Film Jarawa documentary

We need to intercept. I’m sorry, but we need to educate and infiltrate, not remain passive, saying it’s not my problem. Not my problem if some people are cruel to other humans or animals or their actions are knowingly or unknowingly destroying the habitat and polluting some creatures’ environment.

I don’t think any living being can just sit back and let all this happen without having a conscience and wanting to help.

I don’t know where to begin, except for expressing this. I think the world needs leaders who will actually step in and shut Trump and other dictators down. People can divest – take their money out of banks and institutions that support dirty energy and dirty politics. There are numerous ways that people working together could SHUT DOWN OPERATIONS AS THEY ARE through organized actions like; those working in public transportation or truck drivers to not work for a day, or three…We can all work together, educate one another, demand new structures and create them together, IMMEDIATELY.

There are plenty of people with the wisdom and insights and contacts to know how to lead and guide a worldwide REVOLUTION. Not a violent one, a movement with people stepping out of their routines and giving a little time and effort and action to make their voice heard. We can’t let more dictators destroy peoples lives. We can’t let peoples religious beliefs just allow people to pop out 13 babies and pretend that it’s okay. We live in one world, one with limited resources. I refuse to just take on business as usual, and pretend that it’s okay for Mr. Orangehead Chump to push his grey suits around and whimsical notions of what he thinks needs to happen. It’s time for the fucking world intelligence, artists, teachers, scientists and leaders to step in. I still have to read about what’s happening in Turkey, or Venezuela, because I can’t keep up with all of it, but it just IS NOT OKAY ANYMORE, to think that “It’s not here next to me in my community, so it’s not my problem.” IT IS ALL OF OUR PROBLEM. WE NEED LEADERS WHO CAN STEP IN AND INTERCEPT, AGENCIES TO EDUCATE, GUIDE.

I thank all of the environmental, social, ecological groups who serve as watch dogs and educate the rest of us, but somehow, i think something much more brilliant has to take place to begin lighting up the whole world to working together. If we are the people – in a Democracy – choosing our leaders, then we should have the military industrial complex working with us, not in militarized suits, against us.

PayPal Donate Button

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook & music composition

Carol Keiter the blogger on return hitch from Taos to Santa Fe, New Mexico

Carol Keiter the blogger on return hitch from Taos to Santa Fe, New Mexico

carol keiter blogger card

carol keiter blogger card

WHAT | Seeking Artist Residency /\ Sustainable Community | WHERE Europe | WHEN Yesterday

WHAT: Ideally, I’d like to find a place where artists, musicians, writers and creatives can live and exchange their board and meals with work on sustainable green projects and the commitment to adhering to a weekly or bi-weekly series of scheduled benchmarks of deliverables: what they’ve achieved in that period in terms of their own work projects. This achievement report would correspond with a meeting involving all of the residents; to offer each other advise, critique and possibilities of collaboration.

WHERE: I prefer to be based in Europe, though I’m always open to ideas and travel. Does anyone in the world, know of something of this nature that exists?

WHEN: Once again I find myself almost homeless, after a ‘workaway’ gig in Brooklyn that I had applied for and been accepted 3 months in advance, hadn’t worked out after the first week.

pic James and Lois Keiter

Pic a few years ago of my parents in the yard they planted. father James deceased 2013.

Here’s the drawing I just did of this which is a Christmas present for my mother Lois. Framed it after the final retouches!

sketch by Carol, daughter of James and Lois Keiter

Framed after final touches an illustration of my parents James and Lois Keiter

Whoops, I’ve changed it a couple times before framing it, and need to upload the new photo tomorrow. This is the 2nd last version.

Carol's drawing of mother and dad, Lois and James Keiter

Carol’s drawing of mother and dad, Lois and James Keiter


My drawing of my parents James and Lois Keiter

My drawing of my parents James and Lois Keiter

In the meantime, I have dozens of articles to write, a book to complete, music to practice and compose and illustrations that I wish to continue to create. My requirements in order to deliver: time, shelter, nutrition and a positive & safe environment with electricity and internet access. As I am not savvy with my own marketing or google adware and the like – in order to monetize my blogs – I fall into the same quandary.

As a seasoned hitchhiker and couch surfer, one thing I excel at is in approaching strangers and conversing with people and exchanging ideas, which I further research and communicate in writing, illustration and photographs.

An option is to couchsurf, associated with furthering my own project. I met a French girl at the PlacetoB in Paris who has been living for the past year and a half exclusively couchsurfing throughout France. She has had success. I could offer on my own youtube channel a video of the projects I’m involved in, and regularly reveal what I’m achieving on a bi-weekly basis. I would reveal my work in various media, adhering to benchmarks of what I deliver on a bi-weekly basis. In exchange for the couchsurfing hosts, I would offer cooking, cleaning, piano & bass guitar lessons, computer software music & graphic design training, language instruction, portraits of the family, health & fitness training, etc.

Why? >
>I thought that my blogging should pause while I seek out monetized income by delivering this same material – in the form of dozens of articles – querying environmental publications. Upon investigating a dozen or so publications. As someone unknown and low on the totem pole, though each have their own rules of submission, all say that there will be a 3 to 4 month time period before they can respond, if they do at all.

I have begun investigating cooperative sustainable communities and eco villages with the idea of living in a community and sharing the various activities and work needed to be done – growing food, cooking, repairing, child-care, entertainment – yet until one physically meets the people, it is hard to blindly commit to any length of time until one has visited the group in person.

I know that there are artist grants & residencies out there, however I don’t have 3 months or even 3 weeks to research these, for which most require scouting the contact people and apply within a particular time period and waiting in a potentially long line of people for positions.

Carol Keiter | Burning the Man: A Utopian Requiem | article after 1st Burningman experience

I just discovered that my article that had been hosted at a friend’s website, has been offline, and I’m not sure for how long. I had to dig it up on a portable HD, where fortunately I had the text together with a folder of the original photographs I had incorporated into the article. I wrote this after attending my first Burningman back in 1999, while living in San Francisco, California.

Burning the Man

A Utopian Requiem

written by Carol Keiter 1999

I held the scepter of a skeptic as passenger in a car bounding linearly along the divided highway on the way to this event, shouldering a relentless sun. I had forgotten how quickly the desert encroached as we left the breezy coastal town of San Francisco behind us. The heat towered, reducing my acumen to a dull wistfulness, tainting my anticipation of what to expect among such a large number of people thronged together. Surely there would be vigorous anonymity, as is the metropolitan method. But we were greeted warmly and ushered very efficiently to our destination once we entered the gate, and then swept into a never ending court of colorful, elaborately costumed people, ready to playfully transcend anything that may have been weighing them down on the other side. I spotted a trampoline at a neighboring campsite in the first minutes of setting up ours’, and it sparked my enthusiasm about the possibilities of play envisioned.

Juxtaposed to the shrill decadence and tackiness of Las Vegas, also nascent to this desert state, whose pursuit of profit is at the lowest common denominator of the quick-fix of cash, this ‘Burning Man’ municipality was a playground of a completely different nature. The layout of the conglomeration of camps had been  surveyed ahead of time, with the different ‘theme’ camps, whose particular motifs were elaborately staged and developed for the fellow campers to participate in, were given pre-assigned locations in the Black Rock community. The rest of the campers set up their living quarters on a first-come first-serve basis in the available spaces. It was all so thoroughly planned, now in its’ 7th year in this location, that there was an array of print information mapping out scheduled activities and their locations for the duration of the week, along with a tremendous effort that was made to assuage any problematic situations affecting the general health and well-being of the inhabitants of this pop-up town. Sewage disposal, electronic resources and first aid access were all arranged, along with the various means of circulating information. A few independent camps offered special amenities such as ice and showers, for those willing to pay cash for the extra conveniences.

What I hadn’t known beforehand became delightfully apparent as I perused the network of camps within the first hours, that the motive here was to barter or offer as gifts one’s creations, rather than to make a profit. Cash was for the most part an entity out-of-order. Merit came through what one could offer through ones’ own means. A story, joke, sketch, massage, article of any sort, food or drink, virtually anything fathomed that could be offered as an exchange, considered to have worth by the person or camp offering their commodity or service, was fair play. Many camps who hosted beverages or services asked for nothing in exchange, offering what they presented just for the satisfaction of contributing their nuance to the whole experience. Wow!  This quickly became an encounter of a very surreal nature. Then there were those who randomly offered their own tidbits of information or personal propaganda to anyone interested, just to make their own statement. I liked the bumper stickers one guy was handing out from the basket of his bicycle that said in bold letters “Advertising Is A Lie”. I appreciated the message because I have for years harbored a pretty dark-sided view of what I think Capitalism has come to misrepresent, kind of like the Christian religion gone awry. Like a dis-ease, this mass consumeritis has promoted and perpetuated through suggestions from various media that the ego is laden with flaws and is to be mistrusted, suggesting that people grab for something outside of themselves to bring them closer to that more perfect state, or more productive one. Naturally, in our Material World, that perfect state is alluded to as being attainable through acquiring material accessories. It’s promised!  It’s a peer pressure hypnosis in which individuality is squelched. Achievements, are not simply states of mind tapped into from one’s own sense of what is right, but in the form of a possessions, material things that once attained, adorn one with esteem and glory to pump up the ego. I’ve rambled off on this tangent only because the essence of this collective event was so far removed from any religion born of the values precipitated by the pursuit of paper money. Contrasted to popular culture’s mechanisms, this entire camping crusade came to embody the heroism of the individual, celebrating each person’s creative instincts and efforts, so that the appraisal of wealth was in what was unique, not what one acquired as an appendage and token of someone else’s fashion dictates. This world of mirrors cast a very different light on what is real and of value.

ego, soul

The Ego Rarely Knows what the Soul Wants

My preconceptions about the meaning of Burning Man was laced with my own experience of an event annually taking place in Santa Fe, New Mexico, also involving the burning of an effigy of a human figure. This one, called the Zozobra, a tradition introduced by the Spanish immigrants, is woven around a pagan symbol of the harvest, and represents the burning of ‘Old Man Gloom’. It takes place in the Autumn when the day light is shortening with the onset of winter. But Burning Man was not merely a harvest festival, but a reaping charged with regeneration  that was fantastically creative. Humorous twists omnipresent in dress, decor and subject matter were kind of like antidotes to the social ills of the ‘real world of illusions’. It was as if the soulful purpose of this ritual of integration, was to allow the dwellers of the camps to manifest pure creativity, from the raw to the sublime. The point, to tap into one’s talents and articulate them, sharing one’s unique expression with others, not locked into firm goals with decisive ends in mind but in full participation with the process.

Harbored in the Nevada Black Rock desert, the Burning Man campsite was in a high plain valley of rarefied starkness and rawness, nestled between jagged bereft mountains. The barrenness of this environment caused every shape, shadow and change of color illuminated by the shifting light rays of the sun to reveal an enormous beauty in their subtlety. By virtue of the harshness of the habitat, a quality of openness and offering to strangers reigned. Having to deal with the harsh elements in which the wind could be daunting, spinning dust into devils taunting ones’ breath, not to mention the scarcity of water, the bleak climate itself engendered a palpably warm and sympathetic human response. It reminded me of tales of nomadic Bedouins of Africa and Arabia who extended acceptance and hospitality to everyone, even enemies, who passed within the vicinity of their tents, knowing that the role as a provider could be assiduously reversed in a matter of moments. If the winds were to suddenly bring in a wall of asphyxiating dust or if the water supply were to dwindle, among any other unforeseen threats, one then had no choice but to rely on the humanness of a stranger to endure. The only answer to combat the elements was to extend an affinity and sympathy to all, recognizing that only through bonding and cooperating would one survive. And these temporary desert dwellers did just that, gracefully and intimately cooperating with one another. It didn’t take long to realize how familiar one could become with the other people in this communal village, when each is layered with dust, confronted with the same extremes of heat and thirst, and when grooming or bathing was not confined to a private area but in full view of tens of others within the immediate radius of one’s tent. One quickly let one’s guard down.

Gone as well was the sense of needing to guard one’s own residence or property.  The spirit of the whole camp was very much one of collaboration and genuine community. Remaining isolated in one’s home-entertainment-center by virtue of accumulated possessions was non-non-existent, and diametrically opposed to the spirit of this place. Instead, people came together visiting each others’ home camps to mutually participate in the arena of entertainment and education offered to all. It was the living pulse and breath of an underground of shared consciousness in which ideas, images, spoken word, sculpture, performance art, theater, ceremonies and music participated in influencing and shaping everyone present. Everywhere were painted bodies, personal fashions, crafted bicycles and vehicles that perused through the labyrinth of elaborately constructed tents. Scattered in front of the ring of tents across the vast playa were sculptured works of art, many elegant in their simplicity.

the lovers, Burningman

The Lovers: One of many sculptures appearing on the desert canvas.

The messages among all of this adornment covered the gamut from ironic to satirical, iconoclastic to absurd. The whole flux, like a Fellini movie, was an embryo of ideas that procreated as they were seeded in the hearts and minds of all. Humor was everywhere, and the palette of spontaneity and serendipity the temperament that washed over every event. This was the ‘unreal world of reality’ which honored complete freedom of expression. This degree of creativity and uniqueness was a utopia I had yet to experience in action. Each person’s responsibility was to tap into the spirit within and reveal what it bore, and each of the different works of art fashioned were a gift, an offering to the imagination, of everyone else present.

The interesting quality about this extravaganza in the desert was that, like its’ habitat, it was in essence constantly changing, continuously evolving and metamorphosing as the various participants affected it through time. Just as the desert climate continually transformed itself, taking on different forms with cloudscapes, light reflections on the bordering mountains or the winds redistributing the sand, the thousands of people contributed through the elixir of their own thought patterns to manifest a mutating campsite, through a plethora of decorated vehicles and bodies that flowed into one’s view constantly, along with the arena of stationary as well as floating exhibitions. And as the people poured in to set up their camps, the variety exponentially increased.

The festival, several longtime goers informed me, was instigated as a response by a man named Larry Harvey to a relationship gone brittle, which he chose to burn out of his system. So he made an effigy of a human figure and gathered some friends to join him in his own cleansing ritual, by burning that Man on Baker Beach in San Francisco in 1989. It must have been a successful catharsis for him and his friends, kind of like the Phoenix rising from the flames, because the event has since pulled more and more people into its eclipse. Less than ten years later, there were about 15 thousand people who attended. Perhaps many people have engaged themselves as a means of disengaging from their own personal nagging spirits, in order to crystallize their own hopes and dreams of what they desire to bring into their lives. There’s an inherent value in people joining together, manifesting a mutual support system, to help to make each personal myth happen.

San Francisco friends planning the building of their structure. 

San Francisco friends planning the building of their structure.

There on fine sand which was once covered by an ocean floor mingled a bunch of people who had come from numerous states and a number of countries, not separated by what they possessed or what territories they emerged from, but joined through a mutual embrace of sharing and giving of themselves. Not a Woodstock, but an evolution of what that festival represented in its’ time. Music played an enormous part, because music is a magic that pulls many people together in its’ many incarnations. One could be guided around by the beacon of sound emanating from an area as profoundly as blaring strobe lights out there in the moonlit desert evenings. The music represented, booming out of different tents, covered as wide of a arc of what is out there in our contemporary Western culture ranging from House, Techno, Trance, Jungle to Industrial, Classical, Country, Brazilian Samba, French Rap, Hard Rock, Experimental to JUST Mental, as the individuals who were present. There wasn’t really one genre of people but an interesting mix and a vast collection of alter egos displayed through the week long parade of costumes. The splendor of this party was that each of the guests heartily participated, the whole arena a dramatic, interactive theatrical explosion of ideas, visions, dreams, incarnations and symbolism from the individual collective. Costumes were requisite, gaiety and laughter abundant. It was a vast arena in which people displayed their wares, their creations, in order to share their particular tilt.

As abundant as this essence of sharing, was the respect and acknowledgment each gave to others’ contributions. One delightful and fresh aspect was the fact that there was such a trust present. There was a tolerance and lack of judgment or ridicule towards other people, the opposite extreme of what we typically learn to express to one another in most communities. The critical eye, assessing other peoples’ dress codes that even the anti-conformist groups are guilty of when it comes to judging whether a persons’ uniform is hip or not, whether it be punk, gothic, grunge… had vanished. There was also a refreshing trust and respect for other peoples’ material possessions. When  I realized that I could ride my mountain bike around everywhere within the 2 mile radius of the entire camp and just lay it down, un-locked, to enter into some tents’ happenings without any concern, it was an unprecedented and astounding feeling of liberation. There were thousands of people transporting themselves by bicycle, as driving motorized vehicles, unless they were concocted into a float of some sort, were not allowed nor practical. Along with all of the re-creation on the pure aesthetic level, there were everywhere different avenues of genuine information sharing. Camps offered yoga, meditation, dance or poetry writing workshops, music and drumming participation, mask making or group discussions spawned by a topic a speaker instigated. One of the theme camps, ‘Disturbia’, offered among other features a theatrical musical performance which was an elaborate session, unmasking a very poignant message. The actors created a gothic theater which was a futuristic glimpse of technology unharnessed, resulting in the devolution of culture, in which the individuals had been reduced to mental, emotional and moral decay. Transfixed in their own wrath of how the one-sided reign of technology had rendered them pathetically crippled, they engendered to battle the machines that destroyed them.

Ironically, prevalent everywhere during the carnival was a union of opposites. The most prominent one being that between the high tech and primitive, which embraced and complimented one another. State-of-the-art technologies, no doubt spawned by the proximity of Silicon Valley to the birthplace of this event, glittered in their splendor next

to primitive rituals, somber and graceful in their symbolism of nature and transformation. It was a living and breathing union of the Yin and Yang. There was a funny incongruousness of seeing fires everywhere in the night skies together with an array of neon, electronic pulsating lights and lasers. As if in our present day, fire worship has transmutated into that of electricity, not so much as a myth that we live by but an addiction that we can’t live without. In tandem with this is how the slow alpha and theta brain waves generated as people look at their television sets are similar to those activated by people gazing into a camp fire. Or, how people dancing, particularly in the contemporary electronic music scenes common at this festival, respond in unison to a beat, regardless of whether it is generated by a drumming circle of live flesh beating on drums or a dj spinning mutations of noise in rhythmic pulses. Tribal drumming was an integral part of the ‘Burning Man’ week, offered in various sites equipped with either skin covered drums or metal fabrics, yet feeding the entire camp was a generator powerful enough to allow the 15 thousand inhabitants their supply of electricity, to feed the machines…the dj’s turntables, p.a. systems to give life to the many electronic musical instruments, elaborately decorated tents brilliantly lit with custom lighting systems, laser and neon craftworks, and even a giant Tesla Coil, a machine which demonstrated man-made branched lightning bolts in a thundering arc. This fusion was apparent throughout.

The collective camp was laid out in a two mile arc, with the Man embraced in the center in a loyal gesture of kinship. This half moon shape, symbolic of a communion, reminded me of a Native American Peyote ceremony I’d taken part in. That ceremony in New Mexico was steeped in ritual movements, in which the fire keeper methodically fed the fire in the center of the teepee with wood as he raked the coals, shaping the burning embers from a thin crescent moon in the beginning of the rite to a full circle by its’ end 12 hours later. I felt that this half moon shape of the Burning Man camp pulled together and focused the energy of all of the people present with a kind of Feng Shui deliberacy. The whole event reached its’ climax on the night of the big burn, pointedly, when the moon was full.

In the center of the camp stood the tree of life, a copper-tubed sculpted tree which trickled with water to give relief to the desert dwellers that congregated there in day light, and which spouted out graceful 6 foot flames from its’ branches in the nighttime. As emblematic as this tree, the magic was in the awareness of these dualities, one needing the other to make way for the new.

It’s as if the whole electronic revolution, and our 20th century evolution of visual media in the form of photographs, television, video imagery, and film have created the way for this organic leap to take place, in which our forays from the rational terrain of the Western Industrial Revolution have reached, in our Information Age, into the teachings of the Eastern hemispheres of our planet and into the Right hemispheres of our brains.

Copper tree with people gathered around getting the water relief

Copper tree with people gathered around getting the water relief

As though our right brain enhanced minds, reconcile us through neurological practice, to discerning patterns, holistic thinking and musical and aesthetic appreciation all associated with its’ territory, a feminine leaning path, surfacing from our traditional masculine, linear and analytical left brained approach. Perhaps it’s a mutation, breeding a union of the hemispheres and an androgyny of spirit, or just the way our evolution is naturally flowing.

Burning Man exemplified how our technology, which is an extension of our imaginations, lends us to embrace ancient teachings and knowledge coming from all different crevices of our planet and minds. Dualities played on the playa, in night-life and day-life, fire and water, femininity and masculinity, in this renaissance festival of the nineties. Lone pieces of sculpture scattered on the vast stretches of sands waited to be pondered as did the opportunity of collective rapture as hundreds of people drummed or danced in unison.  Synchronicity was alive and breathing among the painted bodies in this painted desert.

Carp e diem

Carp e diem

B e r l i n s t r e e t s e r i e s | m u s i c | R o t a t i o n S t r a s s e n M u s i k 2013

Yet another musical festival erupted in Berlin

the Rotation Street Music Fest happened today, September 21st, on the eve of the Autumnal Equinox

Just around the corner from this rather steely industrial drab view of Berlinberlins_industrial_horizon_fernsehenturm

And perhaps because of it berlins_industrial_skyline_warschauerbrueck_bicyclist

do arts come into focus, even in the background

gigantic graffiti realistic images

gigantic graffiti realistic images

this was on my way to discovering the street music festival, called Rotation

Friedrichshain street music festival September 21st

Friedrichshain street music festival September 21st

desmond-rotation_red_umbrella_theme

desmond_gargica_red_umbrellas

desmond_garcia_one_man_band

desmond_garcia_smiling_coffee_mug-graffiti

duo_1

duo_2

balcony_band_discovery

balcony_band_closer

balcony_band_closest

| intention | to illuminate other’s eyes with de light |

This talk is about how reality can be altered, arising from a subtle shift in one’s perception

and how intention can be communicated and received, if it’s transmitted on a frequency that is unfalteringly clear, without the discontinuity of doubt

… as it is about music.

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/ger/benjamin_zander_on_music_and_passion.html

nomadbeatz on reverbnation

http://www.reverbnation.com/nomadbeatz

Happy Earth Day | Critical Beats |Chopra’s “Book of Secrets”

Hi there y’all!

In between the time that I’m trying to figure out how to fit into this world with the talents & interests that I have and what I like to do ‘-)… I also am searching…and came upon this, and I like it. Excerpts from Deepak Chopra’s “The Book of Secrets”.

http://www.spiritsite.com/writing/deecho/part40.shtml

Also, in the last couple days I opened an email and saw that DJ Spooky was hosting a contest to produce a song, incorporating sounds from Native American Indians of the Amazon. They provided recorded songs within their library, to which “we” create a song from a remix – in 24 hours. I did this, and realized I hadn’t really finely tuned my edits, cuz I hadn’t had enough time. And then they just announced this morning that they will extend it! yeah! so I’m about to dive back into the music software and hardware to polish what I had put together already. It’s called Critical Beats for the Climate!

http://www.criticalbeats.org/Critical_Beats_for_the_Climate/Welcome.html

http://criticalbeatsfortheclimate.bandcamp.com/album/earth-day-remix-contest-extended-2

Here is my song entry “Spirit_Of_Life_Beats” – remix of Indian Tribal songs, after a one day extension from the 1st deadline ‘-) Hey, it’s a little dark, but grave are the critical beats for our climate!

The first song on myspace http://www.myspace.com/nomadbeatz

And here are some highlights from “The Book of Secrets”:

“The greatest hunger in life is not for food, money, success, status, security, sex, or even love from the opposite sex.

The deepest hunger in life is a secret that is revealed only when a person is willing to unlock a hidden part of the self.

We live in the Age of the Higher Brain, the cerebral cortex that has grown enormously over the last few millennia, overshadowing the ancient, instinctive lower brain.

Ultimately you have to believe that your life is worth investigating with total passion and commitment. It took thousands of tiny decisions to keep the book of secrets closed, but it takes only a single moment to open it again.

I take it literally when the New Testament says, “Ask and you will receive, knock and the door will be opened.” It’s that simple. You will know every secret about life when you can truly say I must know.

The life you know is a thin layer of events covering a deeper reality. In the deeper reality, you are part of every event that is happening now, has ever happened, or ever will happen. In the deeper reality, you know absolutely who you are and what your purpose is. There is no confusion or conflict with any other person on earth. Your purpose in life is to help creation to expand and grow. When you look at yourself, you see only love.

Ever since you and I were born, we’ve had a constant stream of clues hinting at another world inside ourselves.

The body’s wisdom is a good entry point into the hidden dimensions of life, because although completely invisible, the body’s wisdom is undeniably real — a fact that medical researchers began to accept in the mid-1980s.

Signs of intelligence began to be discovered in the immune system, and then in the digestive system…Ten years ago, it would have seemed absurd to speak of intestines being intelligent… Now it turns out that the intestines are not so lowly after all. Their scattered nerve cells form a finely tuned system for reacting to outside events — an upsetting remark at work, the threat of danger, a death in the family. The stomach’s reactions are just as reliable as the brain’s thoughts, and just as intricate. Your colon, your liver, and your stomach cells also think, only not in the brain’s verbal language. What people had been calling a “gut reaction” turned out to be a mere hint of the complex intelligence at work in a hundred thousand billion cells.”

http://www.spiritsite.com/writing/deecho/index.shtml

with love,

Carol

| Mauer Mob & Berlin Wall of Sound |

I was on my way to go to participate in this event – forming a Wall of People along the path of the former Wall that had been erected by the USSR
calling thembselves the Mauer Mob, Mauer is the German word for Wall.

organized by one of the members of the Berlin couchsurfing group
couchsurfing.org

However, as I had hosted this past weekend (as a couchsurfer member) two guys visiting Berlin from the Netherlands, they happened to mention this other event which was coordinated to make a statement about the day the Wall fell, 20 years ago on November 9th.

I bicycled over to Mauer Park to join in the 15 minutes of creating a Human Wall, and approached a group in the drizzle thinking that they were there for this event, but observed that all of these people had instruments slung around their shoulders.  I asked a couple of them if they were there for the Mauer Mob, of which they hadn’t a clue, and didn’t speak German.  Soon I put it together that these were the Dutch participants of the Berlin Wall of Sound.

This was Holland’s statement about the falling of the Wall…creating “A Wall of Sound”.  I was informed that a rock group “Noir” out of Groningen, Holland (NL) decided to contribute to the world their constructive statement about boundaries, by building bridges through sound rather than separating people through barriers of Nationalism or Religion….that’s my idea of their intent anyway.

206 was the rough number of participants that the organizers were looking for, to represent the number of people who died attempting to flee the East during the time period that the wall had been erected in and around Berlin.

An article about this event is here.  an aritcle in timeslive is here.

and here is a german article about it.

Here’s the myspace blog created by some members of the band “Noir” regarding this event which took place yesterday.  I’m sure that the recording of the event will be uploaded soon, if it hasn’t been already!

here’s their blog on myspace.

Salut from Berlin!

Carol

Oct. 24th | Global Day of Climate Action | 350.org

Flashback!

image.of.image

Silent Climate Parade

Oct. 24th | Global Day of Climate Action | 350.org

October 24th is the ‘Global Day of Climate Action’ organized by Bill McKibben, who’s behind 350.org.  350 ppm are the top level of particulates – carbon dioxide particles in parts per million – that can be tolerated in our atmosphere in order to reach a sustainable level, to make a dent along the global warming axis towards disaster.  We need to cap at this amount, to reverse the process, or attempt to slow it down.

Here’s an excellent 6 min. video of 350 dot org’s Berlin, Germany Silent Climate Parade 2013 (different year, but captures the essence)

excellent 6 min. video of 350 dot org, Silent Climate zparade,Berlin, Germany 2013, captures the essencr

excellent 6 min. video of 350 dot org silent climate parade Berlin, Germany 2013 (different year, but captures the essence)

The impetus of the voices around the world calling attention to this is to put forth to the attendees of the Copenhagen Climate Conference glaring ahead, the need to acknowledge the importance of making a coordinated worldwide effort to reduce the number of particles contaminating the environment to a sustainable level of 350ppm.

This will be the most widespread day of political global action in world history.  4,500 events have been planned in 177 countries.  McKibben mentioned in an interview with Amy Goodman of “Democracy Now”that the people of the United States “are the most addicted, and therefore most in denial” about the issue.

I’ll be attending among others the Berlin, Germany, Silent Climate Parade. Here are pics from 350 dot org Climate movements worldwide. https://www.flickr.com/photos/350org/4046302796
350.org Ravers on the Boulevard Unter den Linden in Berlin, credit: Lars Borges

And by the way, this is an interesting graphic chart to wrap your thoughts around and digest:

information is beautiful.net/visualizations/the-billion-dollar-gram.

By the way, here in Berlin is the last evening of the Festival of Lights, so catch it while you can.

city-stiftung-berlin.

aloha  |  Be present and share the breath | essence of life.

Aloha in the Hawaiian language means affection, love, peace, compassion and mercy.     http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aloha

Carol

http://www.myspace.com/nomadbeatz