Reconozco un gran La tragedia sucedió cuando Lo ultimo que comimos Juntos
Compartiendo suavemente el Daño en la cena Mesas escuchando a otros Ríete y habla Silenciosos colores sobre el último Noches eventos como si nada Importante sucedía entre nosotros.
La lágrima significativa y Pensé que podría ser Valiente y fuerte y Permanecer resistente y Afable. Esta cosa Comenzó con un paseo Por agua amurallada.
La caminata tanto larga Y chistoso. Los dos Riendo y hablando Camden atado. Enrollando lentamente hacia Un lago y cervezas.
Siempre con cervezas. Cuatro años de necesitar Que te quedes y Continúa con tu No tan gentil insistente Fuerza empujando mi Mente a nuevos awareni Y luego te fuiste.
Perdido. Tambaleándose como un Pescado sacado del agua, Sin el equilibrio de la Azul profundo para continuar el Sosteniendo, guiando el cuidado Afirmando
Tu ciudad no esta tan lejos Pero ya parece Demasiado gran tramo para. Un amigo sin hogar A menudo dice ‘Hasta que Nos vemos de nuevo y lo sé Eso no puede pasar
Hasta que un velo es Levantado Imperceptible Una madeja, tan delicada como un encaje de telarañas Hilado dorado, Sin embargo, rara vez se usa.
La próxima vez que lo veamos Será para decir con Un bocado de soy penas que el mundo Mi mundo estaba mas caliente Cuando eras Cerca. Ahora un refrigerador El amanecer me espera con Tu versión de tonto se fue.
Esta pérdida corta como el Otros como todas las salidas Finalmente hacer. Solo esto Uno causado por negligencia Fue por mi propia ruina.
De pie como la mitad Cabeza minoica enterrada, Meditando de color morado oscuro Gris. Es trueno Aplausos y lluvia. De nuevo
It’s rare for me to hear something that stops me dead in my tracks and makes me fall as if through space wondering what wonderment is this? Prepare yourselves, this is another musically inspired post. Join me as I revel…
Knocked Out Montara by Bobby Hutcherson was like that, when I first heard the track back in the early 90’s visiting my sister in Stoke Newington listening to Jazz FM. I thought about the magic of music. Bobby transported me to a new dynamic of experiencing the world. His playing of the vibes opened a portal to a different time, place and sensibility about music.
I had a similar experience on hearing FTB by Robert Glasper in 2008, and then Gretchen Parlato’s Weak in 2015. Then came Warren Wolf’s Knocks Me Off My Feet released in 2016, but heard in 2019. I know this song. It has belonged to Stevie Wonder for years. What Warren is able to do is make the song his. Yes he is a talented jazz percussionist. Yes he plays the vibraphone like a pianist with all the musical dexterity and complexity that has left me spell bound but the *laterality of his thinking and then playing of this version of Knocks Me – is mesmerising.
Walking into Tower records in the late 90’s and hearing Bobbi Humphrey’s Satin Doll Album. Being assuaged into another late night musical crawl was the ultimate falling experience. I had never heard a *flautist do what Bobbi did on this album. I bought it without hesitation and have savoured her playing ever since. With the Mizell Brothers doing what they did best, producing fresh nuanced music to new audiences.
Visibility But his rendition of Knocks Me Off My Feet has had me singing out loud (in the comfort of solitude in the car and when no one is at home. I was not gifted with a great singing voice).
Warren’s version – takes you into the joy of falling, and falling, and falling in love. Within that happy play of love. It is a joy to behold. Like being held in the rapture of someone else’s perfection. Spellbinding. His art is to make a song his and yet remain recognisable. It is the magic of Warren’s vision and of the accompanying musicians who allow the play of the vibraphone to musically enthrall and take you to the zenith of falling or being knocked off your feet.
Re-Done Montara by Bobby Hutcherson is universally held as a great, no, a fantastic piece of jazz music. It broke records and has been highly sought after. The Roots did a great rendition of Montara on the New Groove Album with the lyric Do What You Want, Do What You Like, Do What You Feel/Do What you Need. I loved this version for as long as I can remember with those late night conversations in my mid 20’s, late night drives, late night studies it was the only version of the classic I could readily access.
Huff and Puff Then along came Warren Wolf. Blowing everything even the original away, with his version of Montara. Why? Bobby made it his! It is his. The Roots made it theirs. It was theirs. Wolf reinvented Mandala and brought it full force into the 21st century. It’s like what Christian Scott did for Isadora, Robert Glasper has done with the piano and with his experiment experiences, Gretchen Parlato reworked SWV’s Weak up to and what Warren has done with this age old classic.
CTA Compare contrast congratulate and then comment below. There are few that have been able to do re evolution better. Warren Wolf is someone to look out for.
The poem at the end of I Stand Alone by Robert Glasper is worthy of repeating often. Primarily because the poet speaks about there being multiple changes with each re-interpretation, re-evolving not just copying mindlessly. Suggesting that each go round takes us – musician and listener – to a different newer higher level.
There are times when I am amazed by the generosity of spirit of the people I meet in prison. They may only be dimly aware. For this man I would like to share this piece of writing with him. An action of reciprocity. Effective Altruism? Maybe…
Bad Day I was having a shitty day. Walking with a walking stick in prison is a cumbersome and slow experience. The walking stick has me feeling vulnerable and very out there on my own. It’s a constant worry that at any moment something is going to go down and I’m going to be jumped beaten and my keys snatched off of my chain.
It has never happened to me.
(Yes, staff walk around with keys attached to a belt.) Uniformed Staff and civilian staff walk with aware that they carry a large responsibility along with those keys – a symbol of power.
Questioning The opposite is often what I encounter. I generally do not feel powerful. My visible vulnerability brings from many I meet, including officers and often young and mature black men, the nod, or the question of “Are you alright?” Or “You cool?” “What’s happened?” “You good?” “Take it easy, yeah?”
Fade Here I am seen and my daily struggle is met by others compassion, seeing myself as the injured and frail one. I find myself at times wanting to be invisible. But these calls are a gentle reminder that humanity lives here. These moments are of genuine sensitivity being shown from men who are doing hard time, some serving 18-30 years. I have accountability and a responsibility to uphold, mine and theirs.
Between On this day I passed from one wing to another. There are a number of wings/house blocks, housing between 100-150 men. Every house block has it’s own distinct vibe and concentration of prisoners: Vulnerable prisoners, lifers, remand and re-categorised prisoners. These men are due for parole or to be sent to other prisons for more open conditions. The prison has a total capacity servicing over 1000 men. Me negotiating the gates, doors and stairs takes longer as I manage the cane, the keys, assessment charts, writing paper to note take and my diary. An unholy slow moving ungainly mess.
Check-in I am to meet with a client who attends the bereavement group. (Thanks for the reminder I will offer a write up about this group soon.) I need to see him as he left the group early on this week and I want to make sure that he is okay.
Take We meet on his house block and I make my way into one of the offices that has a desk and 2 chairs on his wing.
I offer, “I wanted to come and see you as I wanted to find out how you are after Tuesdays meeting?” He says “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling good you know? Sometimes this place takes the piss!”
I nod showing that I understand.
He continues “I asked for something that’s important to me for my religion and it’s not on the canteen sheet and I can’t get it! “It’s frustrating me. “I’m usually okay with it here. “But this thing. “I’ve been patiently waiting for 3 months and I couldn’t wait any longer. “I’ve done it their way for a long time and nothing ain’t happening for me. “I’m not just going for mine and leaving everybody else you know? “This is about me and for others like me.”
Release He shares his disappointments and numerous experiences of being let down and similar disagreements about the prison. Like, losing weight, standing forward and supporting others, confronting officers and attending to his overall fitness, wearing clothes he has had to keep care of for years because he can’t trust that things sent in will safely arrive.
Prism He says something like jail being more like a mental health institution in patois and we both laugh. Initially tentatively. Then gleefully. Recognising ourselves in a prison situation as Black men. One choosing to be there with the other, another doing his best to find peace within his situation in prison.
Re-set The laugh of this black man was like the baring of a soul with a comrade at arms, a fellow road weary traveller, a baller. His laugh invited me to view both his and my plight with compassion. This black mans laugh somehow seemed to restore me and also him. We sat and laughed in a prison, about prison and the folly of the circumstances we both found ourselves in. It was Capoeira meeting Jazz, Gum Boot Dance to Blues, Hip Hop bopping slow with Reggae, Salsa and Calypso rejoicing. It was natural and affirming that even here -prison – humanity could be found.
Re-Mix The wonderful ability to take something that is both internal and external put a spin on it and make it both his and mine. The experience of the infinite in a few short moments of laughter. How deliciously wonderful, amazing and so uniquely surprising. I left the prison a little lighter that day, usually a little guilt escapes with me.
Swimming In At a local swimming pool another one of my random thoughts struck.
On your marks… The thought centred on knowing about something before the experience arrives. Almost prescient to an event and being ready when it happens. Does having information early provide either comfort or terror?
Unsuspecting The event that brought me to my thought was, a boy of about 16/17 who stumbled out of a swimming pool near to my family and me. He walked with difficulty to the poolside near to us and appeared to slump onto his back. The incident happened quietly and quickly at a packed Lido. He began twitching and both of his hands curled into fists with his thumbs pinned inside his hands.
Busy Calm I wondered what could be happening. The boy appeared calm in voice as he explained to his friend to get help. A life guard arrived moments later and radioed for senior management. The pool was packed and the life guard’s attention seemed split into a number of other directions.
Speed Management sped over to the prostrate young man and after a few questions with him, called 999. Over the phone instructions were offered to calm and reassure the young man. Within 15 minutes a paramedic arrived and took over. I wondered again about what the boy was experiencing and was transported back to lying on my back on sports day after running my heart out. This was June 1990. I had just completed a 200m final sprint, came 2nd and was to compete in a triple jump event for my class team.
The RACE Before the 200m I had successfully contested and run against, the school’s favourite and won against him in the 1500m. Back then, something unexplainable was going on and my body was failing me. This was before my 2011 diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. I wanted to get up, run and compete again. 3 events in one day I knew I could do it, but my 16 year old pre-diagnosed body had other ideas.
Primary Attack I lay prone and incapable of moving for at least 30-40 minutes, on a beautiful summers day, on a school field in Cambridgeshire. A number of people mostly fellow pupils showed concern and asked if they could help. At which I said “No, I’m alright”. I didn’t understand what was happening to me, and was too embarrassed at feeling so weak and powerless to accept help.
AHA! This then was my first glaring incident of a relapse. It sucked! I can still hear my fear anger and anguished thoughts ricochet around my head. “But this shouldn’t be happening to me? What about my team? I’m not helping us win! What’s going on? What the hell is this?! What’s wrong with me?”
Forewarned My thoughts wander back to the boy. At this side of the pool lying on his side, pronounced as needing support and not knowing what this mysterious illness is. Perhaps it is or is not MS. Perhaps it is another debilitating auto immune disease that like a thief, a picket pocket, appears disappears and removes slowly, imperceptibly, all that is held dear.
Bliss Maybe it is better not to know and live with no to little knowledge about a challenging future that could be ahead. Managing an illness that disrupts brain to body connections and renders the sentient being housed in said body mute, captive, ignorant and helpless.
Quiet I remained silent and said nothing. Reluctant at handing to this young man an idea of a future that is largely an uncomfortable unknown – a morass of uncertainty and discomfort. Perhaps it is best I look on and hope that his mysterious twitching and collapse is something more explained like blood sugar levels or early onset type 1 diabetes – rather than an auto immune disease.
Autonomy I lived for 20 years with a certainty that I was as healthy and as physically and mentally able as I was supposed to be. I would not want to rob another of a chance to live for better or worse in the knowledge that life as they knew it was irrevocably altered and that new designs were to be placed. A life pattern redrawn. At 16 the news might be impossible to digest.
7 men on stage all talking about their individual experiences of life loss and mental illness. The men included Terrol Lewis @TerrolLewis Brixton Street Gym, Gabriel Sey @Gabriel_Sey Personal Trainer, Don Strapzy @DonStrapzy Musician Dulwich Dons, Paul McGreggor @PMcGreggorCom CALM zone, Xavier The Life Coach @XavierTheLifeCoach, Kharris Kwame @Kharis.Kwame Financial Advisor and Leon ‘Sweets’ Lewis @SweetsLewis
When I found out about the event, thank you Eddie, I was at first intrigued. I knew little of the people who were going to be speaking at The Man Talk. But this did not derail my interest.
Finding a queue outside Brixton Ritzy mostly with men from the Diaspora standing, waiting, talking amongst themselves, greeting each other, shaking hands, fist bumping, head nodding and laughing was a welcome sight to behold. I usually see something similar of this relaxed nature at one of the prisons I support as the men travel to or from their activities to their wings.
Here though there were no prison officers. Patrolling, expectant, ready, making small talk with themselves or with some of the men housed at this prison. The scene was light and celebratory not couched for things to go off or tense.
I looked on and waited. Hoping to get a seat soon. My 6’2” frame groaning for respite leaning on my adjustable cane, we stood and waited for close to an hour. Eventually the doors were loosed and patiently the assembled group of men ambled with reverie into the cinema.
I found a seat near to the end of a row. Most had come with friends or people they knew. If Ade was still here I would have gone with him. The evening began with a welcome and a brief greeting with people sat beside me, in front and behind that added to the sense of camaraderie amongst the audience. The Man Talk began with Leon Sweets Lewis introducing what we the audience were in store for. His informal beginning allowed the assembled panelists to introduce themselves and their reasons for why they felt The Man Talk was important.
Terrol Lewis @TerrolLewis Brixton Street Gym, Spoke about the soon arrival of his first child, being sent to prison for a period and wanting to get to a train platform… Terrol became more impassioned the more he spoke about his mission that almost never was. The train platform experience was a moment that he came close to bringing his life to a premature end.
Gabriel Sey @Gabriel_Sey Personal Trainer, Talked about not finding his purpose and being lost and close to being broken. Finding his path with personal training and getting fit and supporting others to do the same.
Don Strapzy @DonStrapzy Musician, Dulwich Dons talked about his known and unknown personal stories, encountering loss, finding himself between a number of different worlds that include Music Football and his community. Wanting both to succeed and support family and friends.
Paul McGreggor @PMcGreggorCom CALM zone held nothing back. Paul introduced himself with the story of losing his father to suicide. A pin drop moment for me. It brought the audience and me to the edge of our seats. From Paul’s conversation the TALK became REAL and the objective of why we all were sat, listening and witnessing was made evident. The Campaign Against Living Miserably
Xavier The Life Coach @XavierTheLifeCoach, the elder statesman of the room shared aspects of his story. He is a voice coach, singing mentor and has supported numerous X-FACTOR contestants to perform well. Xavier discussed becoming a life coach after sharing his insights with friends and putting his skills coaching singers and performers to shine. XTLC was launched as a new concept for him from that point going forward. Xavier also shared about the death of his mother which completely caused him to shut down and function. When he returned home he cried for his sense of loss. Xavier mentioned that his loss was profound because of his connection with her.
Kwame @Kharis.Kwame Financial Advisor story was different. He began by sharing
with the crowd that he was a Ghanian and his dream of becoming an American
citizen was upended by 2 things. 1st his financial organisation
changing their hiring policy of foreign nationals and America’s new immigration
policy. The dream he had built up in his mind was over and he had to rethink
his goals and dream fast.
I felt inspired by what I witnessed at The Man Talk and want to start a Men of the Diaspora therapy group. The feeling is that something positive that tackles toxic masculinity has started. Potentially men talking about shame pain being hurt and loving is essential for how men process and see themselves. With a fresh perspective and with new imaginings. Not with the tropes of old that states that men are 2 dimensional, simple, unemotional monoliths inflexible immature and bullish.
All panelists were humorous, honest and humble.
All of the men on stage presented a good argument, a representation for men to talk, listen and to be seen in similar ways with others. The Man Talk was a window into vulnerability and honesty. What would that be like for family and friends to experience? To See?
talk is scheduled for June 19th and I am not able to attend. What I
am confident about are a number of outcomes.
will be other ‘The Man Talks’ and the ripples will affect how men relate to themselves,
and the communities they move amongst.
will begin holding other men focused talking experiences.
A few years ago I met a friend in a Cafe/Bakery I had long held as a pinnacle of urban regeneration and baking prowess.
I had just left the University of East London (UEL) re-introducing two old friends that both had extensive experience working in the field of criminal justice. We had spent time discussing workshops for Forensic Psychology students that we would be delivering over the years course.
Ascent Rise by Solange Knowles is a great intro track for a complex album and it played as my friend and I entered. You may have come across Don’t Touch My Hair that features on the album. The E5 bakery is a teaching cafe and sells amongst other things sourdough bread possibly the best in London. The coffee is very good too!
Connex Meeting my friend at the bakery was a culmination of a long held friendship and a cause for Celebration. I had that rare moment of synchronicity meeting serendipity. A choice had been made by my friend that felt important and life affirming. The moment when one realises one’s power. Where flight seems possible. The internal porch light gets flicked to on. The re-awakening of Neo in the Matrix’s final scenes. The culmination of intention meeting luck.
Possibility A walk and talk client and I had discussed the merits of both Lemonade and A Seat At The Table. As both albums were so dynamically different and yet stretching the listeners appreciation of musical activism in similar ways. We both felt that Cranes in the Sky was worth the whole album of Lemonade. It appeared that Solange had poured her entirety into that one song. Whereas Lemonade felt like the many iterations of a number of heartfelt concepts.
Chance My friend had recently decided to change her role and leave the company she was with to join a charity working with service users in Probation. The decision she made was all hers however I felt responsible and to be a person of influence, perhaps I stepped from the role of friend to coach-mentor-consultant. The question is when to offer insights about choice and when not to. The point here is to note that knowledge can be influential. Think algorithms and shopping/buying on the internet. Google and Facebook only know of what you have looked at and as a result know some of your interests not who you are. Do not fall foul of their attempts to have you buy just because you once saw it.
Games within games By answering a number of my friends questions I was providing personal insight to a number of their considerations. I attempted to be objective. I am not sure I achieved true objectivity, some subjectivity seeped in. Passion runs through me on subjects I have experience with. For people that I know and love – get an uncensored cut.
Work/Play Ask any that I have worked with as a supervisor, basketball player, mentor, friend, service user, client, probation officer or FMHP. The soap box still calls me…
Carefree Junie is a sweet throwback song that immediately brings to mind upbeat sunny hot summers, hanging out and younger fresher days. It speaks of freedom and roller skates and ice cream and hot sun, and full trees, riding bikes, barbecues, car stereo’s blasting and block/house parties.
Embrace Listening to Junie in the E5 Bakery talking to my friend about the choice she was making felt like a welcome return to a warm home after a cold night’s long walk.
This poem/’call to arms’, is written for a former work colleague.
I promised to hold a conversation with.
The aim of the conversation – to ignite their fire.
The intention also is to inspire another,
Above the Clouds
Staying at the office all hours just to make sure that all tasks for everyone else are done.
Seemingly making your tomorrow’s better.
Has that ever worked?
That life that you said you wanted is waiting.
Withering yet waiting.
The dream of supporting others with therapy, dance, massage, hypnotherapy, aqua yoga, pilates, debating, aromatherapy, law, osteopathy, teaching, climbing, acting, martial arts, physical and mental health training – are drumming fingers on tables and waiting.
There is the you
Doing the justifying thing.
That “this job?”
“This thing is enough.”
But is it.…
What would it mean to stop?
To re-plan, re-think, replay your path to the role you always wanted?
Those long hours of training.
The exams, the tests, the reviews, the study hours, the midnight vigils, the all-nighters and support given and taken were for you to grow.
Pushing papers, filing, scheduling may be the new fulfillment.
But if it’s not,
When you spoke to your friends you shared the vision of what you would be doing to help and to support change in other people’s worlds.
The light came on in your eyes.
The internal smile that you offered as a signal was undeniably present as you chatted.
Their eyes shone…
Kusama’s Infinity Mirror
Bringing, offering, sharing healing you recognise is reciprocal like a circle.
It is not your cause or reason but a guide, an internal call.
Once, you answered whilst training and learning and now – the line – dormant and dusty is rarely picked.
Those moments whilst fleeting
When a friend, a colleague or family member excites
Your learning and you recall points on charts that support growth – return screaming,
Almost shouting “How could you have forgotten us?”
“Not used your knowledge more and helped others along their way with growth?!”
Glowing partly through gleefully earned pride you shudder at the response and begin re-asserting the mantle you have been carrying of…
‘Not quite ready enough,’
‘Not quite good enough,’
‘The time is not right, ‘
‘The world is not ready.’
If another were to say that rubbish about themselves
Your will to see them right themselves and their situation
Would not allow you to hold back or permit them lie to themselves any longer.
Take what steps are necessary!
Read what books are helpful.
Watch what films excite and invite action
Listen to the music and songs that pull
Speak to those that encourage and inspire.
Seek out mentors and those that you can support.
Here – to inspiration – the path lies.
Pinpoint the re-entry rediscovery moment and with no holds barred LAUNCH
Break the yoke
Break the cycle
Nothing, can get in your way apart from excuses and you.
What are you waiting for?
The thing that you seek lies on the other side of fear.