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Farewell Amor

Directed and written by Ekwa Msangi, Farewell Amor is the story of a Angolan family, a father, mother and daughter reunited after 17 years apart. They are now together in the U.S, strangers in the same one-bedroom apartment. Through the love of dance and music, they find their way back to love tuning themselves to the same united rhythm of their beating heart, saying goodbye to who they used to be. They grieve and rejoice. It is a what-if story inspired by the author's uncle and aunt story who found themselves apart due to circumstances.  It is a beautiful story of people who immigrated. the story is depoliticised. The tribulations and struggle that immigrants experience are unseen. Instead, we engaged more deeply about the heartbreak, longing and tension experienced by each family member as they redefine themselves as individuals and strive to find a united choreography as a block, a group, a unit Dancers from the same company - who find within the tune of life their part. A part ...

Light a Match Under Your Dream

'' You have to Light a Match Under Your Dream'' she said. This was the line of the character Madam CJ Walker in Self-Made. It resonated so much with me that I had to stop the episode. What does she mean and what is my dream? There is more than one - sometimes too many to even be able to focus on one thoroughly. I decided to look through the internet to find out how one can possibly define their dream. I keep waking up each morning and find myself having a new dream for my life. Remnants of the past or the day before are still there. Yet new in-roads are created for me to move forward. I came across this article ''22 secrets to discovering your dream and living it'' I really did like  Guy Kawasaki’s idea  of creating a mantra as opposed to a mission statement for oneself. Other elements that appealed to me was to have one purpose and to ask ourselves what we would like to be remembered for when we die. it did sparked a lot of thoughts and then everything ...

The United States of Hoodoo, Documentary by Olivier Hardt

  The documentary explores how African-based spirituality has informed Americas popular culture. The old African gods have taken on new forms since their arrival on North America's shores. Their spirit now manifests in turntable wizardry, improvisational skills and mind-blowing collages, performances and rituals. The film shakes up traditional and stereotypical ways of thinking about race, religion, rationality. Through meetings with musicians, writers and artists, healers, gumbo cooks and Mississippi Blues men, the documentary draws a picture of a culture which has always drawn on a unique mix of different ethnic influences to produce its cultural diversity, allure, and vitality (IMBD, 2012) I remember being in the West Indies getting dressed up for the Carnaval, hearing the music and percussions up and down the streets. Not something you would find in metropolis France. But there on the island where African tradition meets a religious event such as Mardi Gras, all is transformed....

The Miracle Morning by Hal Elrod

 My colleague A. came back from the holidays sharing how a book changed her life for the better. She entered the world of Miracle Morning. She wakes up miraculously every day at 5am happier, healthier, more successful, with more energy. A trick of the mind I am sure. Out of curiosity, I pick up the book to find out what are the 6 best habits that transform the lives of millions before 8am. In A Day, The Book is read and dusted with the main key learnings. Wake Up at 5am and Embrace Life S.A.V.E.R.S. (silence, affirmation, visualisations, exercise, reading, scribbling) My favourite part of the book was reading The Miracle Morning Mission: "Change one million lives, one morning at a time" A percentage of the royalties for each copy of the book is given to charities and non-for-profit organisations. I am inspired.
  While relatively small quantities of water appear to be colourless, pure water has a slight blue colour that becomes a deeper blue as the thickness of the observed sample increases. The blue hue  of water is an intrinsic property and is caused by selective absorption and scattering of white  light. When there is no water to draw, one can see blood.  The world turns upside down. It is exactly what happened when upon getting into the shower, he realises that there is no water. He goes down to the kitchen, no water. He goes up to the sink tap, no water. M: ''I love my water'' W: ''Do you?'' M:''Yes, I like the feel on my skin, I like my big shower, It is like being in Africa right now.'' W: ''We have a bottle of water downstairs, you can brush your teeth with'' M: ''Thanks. Did I take a shower last night? Yes I did!'' W: ''Moving forward, let's buy some water bottles, so we are ok when there is n...

Au Sommet des Marches

Aide-moi Délivre-moi du fardeau que sont les papiers, les outils, les fils conducteurs, les puzzles sans fin Non, dis-tu? Non, repetes-tu? Ton attention n'est plus. Ton amour, toujours, reste Grandis, ma grande Transforme le butin de ta peine en marche pour aller plus haut Je te regarderais d'en bas sur ma bande glissante qui m'emmene ailleurs Je ne peux plus te suivre Je suis sur mon propre chemin, un chemin vers l'au dela Ainsi sois-t-il Je pose le tout ici Je construis une, deux, trois marches Inspiré, une, deux, trois personnes me rejoignent Nous voici au sommet Je te regarde d'en haut et Souris J'ai rejoins le royaume des cieux aussi Merci

The Listeners by Walter De La Mare

  The Listeners BY  WALTER DE LA MARE ‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,       Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses       Of the forest’s ferny floor: And a bird flew up out of the turret,       Above the Traveller’s head: And he smote upon the door again a second time;       ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said. But no one descended to the Traveller;       No head from the leaf-fringed sill Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,       Where he stood perplexed and still. But only a host of phantom listeners       That dwelt in the lone house then Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight       To that voice from the world of men: Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,...