The seminar was held in the university’s echoing, cavernous gymnasium, where puzzle mats were laid out. There were 51 attendees, including 12 Aikikai participants from Macau and a local Aikikai dojo, in addition to the Wadokai students from Guangzhou (who were also our indispensable interpreters). After warmups, Sensei showed Sayunage from a wrist grab. Shihan Chad showed the “Sinawali” punch drill, and then Sensei followed up with Iriminage. Shihan Sonny showed Kubinage (if I remember right). I showed Tenshinage off a punch from Shihan Franklin. It was great to have guys from the local dojo running up to bow in and work with me. They said I explained things well, a welcome piece of positive feedback, given the language barrier.
It’s always a bit of a challenge remembering everything that happens at a seminar, when you’re participating. I get caught up in the waza (that…
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The persnickety weather is up to its old tricks. Some summer weekends are glorious and sunny. Some have this pretense of warmth and light, but unleash a torrent of wind and rain once you’ve ventured away from shelter. Most are gray. Basically, Dunedin weather is Seattle minus the Ozone (I recommend bathing in sunscreen before stepping outside). Anyway, I have some friends who refused to let their weekend be dictated by the weather. It pays to have friends with this attitude. It also pays to have friends who own a car. We decided, “Forget the weather. We’re going to the beach!” This could have been the beginning of a very unfortunate tale, but luckily ours had a happy ending. I was able to drive with a lovely bunch of Kiwis to the breathtaking Tunnel Beach.
I actually preferred going on an overcast day; the mist gave the beach a…
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if i knew being black was a crime,
i would have bleached my skin with ignorance.
decolored every ounce of my ancestors
painted across my face – i’d bury them deep
beneath my white bones like i was saving
them for when winter passes – when winter passes
i’ll know what it feels like to be loved by a world
who smoked me til ashes. i’ll blind my eyes.
disintegrate all i once held dear to my heart
and blow them into the winds. watch them
dance among dead souls with black holes
that once held their trust there. they’ll vanish
into the abyss. but, i’ll worry. frighten myself
into believing in the magic of dreams beyond
nightmares – my skin is the shadowed dream
of a nightmare. like babies in a womb,
i’ll contract my history. push away my fathers
like their breaths smelled of rape. i’ll shutter,
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i have a lot on the go right now. there’s so much i want to do. i’ve a couple of paintings started, a drawing on a huge canvas just waiting for the first swoosh of paint. i’m scared to touch that one. i’ve some sculptures i’ve started, some studying and refreshing of art techniques on my list, an armature holder to build, i’m designing a piece of jewelry and i am meeting with a potential sculpting & painting mentor, writing a journal and writing here. i have a seasonal business that i do the design work for, the copy writing, the web design and updates and am working on it’s revisions presently. i do most of the actual guest suite business when it comes to having the guests and preparing for their vacation stay. i just finished 2 1/2 weeks of pre-pruning vines with Mark as we wanted to become…
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As I was reading the book called Women In Atlanta by Staci Catron-Sullivan and Susan Neill, I came across this featured photograph of a 19th Century black woman wearing an embellished Victorian Dress. Staci and Susan draw the eyes to the young lady’s hand which appears to be covering a necklace charm. They state, “The sitter appears to shield an object and may be concealing a slave hire badge. . . . If hired-out slaves were found without the proper badge, they were arrested, and their masters were forced to pay fines for their return.”
Then I remembered the Labor Behind the Veil tour in Milledgeville, Georgia. Often slaves were arrested and their legal tags were taken from them by the captors. As a result, many slaves and free people of color were then taken to the auction block and resold to new slave owners. Either circumstance, shielding one’s identity was critical to survival…
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