Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Sunday, July 4, 2021

3 feet away from legal

Downtown L.A. at night

Los Angeles, 07.04. 2021

Day 4

I'm sitting at a café thinking how my night is gonna go; feeling guilty. Homeless people are not relaxing somewhere, making plans, before they start their night, they are out there with a sense of urgency I have not seen anywhere else. I wonder if ever crosses their minds that after being homeless for awhile, getting a job, paying bills, working late and dealing with deadlines would be like being on vacation.

I have to think like them since I am sleeping on the street tonight, doing exactly what they do for the next five days; following their footsteps. Trying to answer the question of where they all go after the security officers, paid by the opulent buildings in the area, supported by the LAPD get them to move on. Where do they go? Where do I go? How to make sure I don't take the wrong bus and end up in a dangerous area at 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning. The subway goes off circulation at midnight, so wherever you end up, you are stuck there until they go back online at 4:30 in the morning.

Tonight I'll take the 460 bus to Disneyland; it is a four hours roundtrip and the homeless use it because it allows them a place to sleep safely for a longer period of time. Catching the bus at the wrong time means ending up at Disneyland with no way to come back. Alone. I'm pretty sure Mickey will be asleep. In the middle of the night, as my grandmother would say: " nothing good ever happens after midnight." I grew up in the theater so 11 pm is when I am applying make up and clicking my heels three times. Nevertheless, getting to Mickey's house to find him sleeping is a bit screwy.

I make it to the bus and they are there, about 12 of them. I'm fully vaccinated now but being inside a bus that is packed with people is fortunately a choice that I can make; and I make the choice of not doing it; instead I follow the other group that hop trains all night. Most of the homeless that surf the buses and trains are men; I have not seen any homeless female roaming the streets at night so I guess and hope they have made to shelter which is the next place I will go to after these five days.

I am flooded with the memories of my children; beautiful memories: running, walking to the Santa Monica beach, watching them playing at the sandy playground and laughing while making castles. My son always in t-shirt complaining of being too hot while I'm wearing layer upon layer of long sleeves and wind breakers. Santa Monica is about 10 degrees cooler than downtown L.A. and I look at these men hiding behind smalls walls to avoid the cold air that comes from the ocean and feel sorrow for their routine.

The ghost of my children plague me now and I realize that that time in my life is gone and it will never come back, maybe I get to experience that again with grandchildren. For now, the memories cut me like the cold air, as I see them everywhere; and a profound feeling of sadness wells me up in tears, as if the very purpose of my existence has vanished. They are now entering the college years in one of the most disturbing periods of our human history, so I am sure that they are having thoughts of their own about things passed and gone.

I need to focus. I need to walk to the train. As I walk I notice a commotion ahead of me, an older black man is talking loudly, surrounded by security guards and he is trying to kick them and saying things that I am too far to understand.

I quickly grab my camera and stand across the street taking pictures; it is too dark here so I walk closer and approach the security guards, whom by now stand in the corner a few feet away from the man; who has now gone back inside his make shift tent and is trying to sleep. Young people on the other side of the road are laughing and carrying a conversation on their way to a club, on their way to a good time. I approach the security officers to ask a few questions.

Before getting to them I decide to approach the homeless man first and see if he is willing to talk to me; " How you doing there, my man? My name is Marco. Like Marco Polo. What's your name?" As he talks back to me I hear that none of what he is saying is directed at me or anyone in particular, he is addressing his own demons and it is no wonder he is angry with the the security personnel; when you have to appease demons in your head sleeping becomes essential.

They go back to their argument but it becomes obvious that seeing me taking pictures had an affect in how they proceed, for now, they had made a call to the LAPD. While we wait, I am careful to stay out of their way, but I quickly realized that their job is done and there is nothing else to do than wait for the calvary. Even though we are just standing there I ask them if I can talk to them; situations like these are never over and can become dangerous in a blink of an eye.

I tried again talking to the man lying on the street but he is not home; I engage the security officers and one of them introduces himself as the supervisor and a full minute into our conversation I come to the conclusion he is not home either. Everything I ask is repeated back to me and he claims not to understand me, which is fine, I have an accent so I always take people at their word when they say that; I begin to enunciate every syllable but another minute goes by to see that my accent is not the issue, he doesn't like the questions.

"Isn't that a sidewalk? Why can't he stay there?" "Excuse-me, " he says. And pretend again not to understand me. I pretend he is not a certifiable jerk and ask another question. " If you get him to move on where will he go?" " That is none of my concern." he says.

Good it appears my english has improved. " What's his name? " I ask. That question he understood clearly because his expression spoke to me before he had to mutter the words; "well, I don't know that. My job is to make sure he is not sleeping on private property." "It would probably make your job a bit easier if you took the time to ask his name; it is everyone favorite sound." His clueless look told me that he needed more. " Human beings like the sound of their own name." I say, but he had lost interest in talking to me and told me so.

I ask him if he minds, being the supervisor and all, if I talked to the man again. " it is a free country." he said and I laugh but say nothing. What I think is " How free is it when you can't even sleep on the sidewalk?" I tried to talk to the homeless man and get his name but he was busy talking to someone in his head; I noticed the LAPD approaching and prepared my camera to take a few pictures. What the homeless man did next reminded me of the boy who had the common sense to toss his filthy blanket outside. The police officer was polite, respectful, but firm: " Sir, you cannot sleep there. It is private property." and proceeds to show the man where he could set up his bed. A couple of feet away from where he was. I asked myself if all the drama was worth the bother for a few feet. Eight people altogether engaged this man, including two police officers. Stretch your leg as wide as you can if you are sitting down and you will see the distance he moved too.

The next thought I had was that this system was missing a third phone call. The first call will always be made by the security guards when they call each other to try to get the person to move; the second call they made after they failed to convince him to move was to the police officers. The city of Los Angeles has groups that exist with that sole purpose: to offer an option to a human being that, instead of moving a few feet and sleeping on the sidewalk, that they can be placed somewhere warm for the night. That should be the second call, and only after they go nowhere, they would engage the police. Police officers should not be engaged with that, they are trained to deal with crimes, and complex situations and moving a homeless who has his things leaning agains a building is a waste of their time. And two feet away? That is total insanity.

I took some more pictures and watched the police car drive away; I watched one by one, as the security people drove away too and in the end it was just the two of us there. I stood watching him sleep for a bit, just as someone once did, a long time ago.

Sleeping on private property

Waiting for the police

LAPD officers resolve the conflict

This is where he was...

...this is where he was moved.

Watching him sleep

Next morning I went to check and he was still there.

Friday, July 2, 2021

Girl by the Bridge

Los Angeles, 07.02.2021

Day 2

She emerges from one of the shacks with a plastic water jug and her pocket book; jeans, a white t-shirt and a stride of those who understand time. Even within the few seconds our interaction lasted I could see the sadness in her eyes; her face, pretty, but tired. She displayed a different kind of sadness, one that indicates resentment, like the boy we met at the café. The difference is that the boy was angry and she is sad and a bit unhopeful; while the boy didn't engaged me at all, not saying a single word, this girl told me that she didn't want to talk to me and it sounded as if her words had come from disappointment.

"I live beside the highway because I gave up on everything, family and friends and society norms." it was the subtext of our interaction. So easy it is to point to mental illness to explain the complexity of this issue; so easy to forget that we are living in an age where everyone is apologizing for everything, to everyone, every day in fear that they will be cancelled. This girl has cancelled us. The boy in the café has cancelled us. In a world where everyone is displaying their status on social media, the homeless lies on the sidewalk.

I look at the shacks and think that the city of Los Angeles is determined to do something about the homeless and I ask why. Is it sympathy for the plight or because we are tired of seeing this encampments everywhere we look? it crashes with our nice buildings and our way of life. We need to clean up the city, seems to be the new mantra and amidst that sentiment rises the new politicians: " If you are leaving in tenths we are coming for you."

Say that again, Sheriff Johnny Good Old Boy? It reminded me of the Bob Marley song:

Sheriff John Brown always hated me

For what I don't know

Every time that I plant a seed

He said, "Kill it before it grows"

- Bob Marley -

Sheriff Johnny Good Old Boy took the temperature of the Los Angelinos and is certain that we will look the other way while he threatens TO HUNT these human beings; he is certain we will look the other way as long as he cleans the city. Anyone who goes before a live mike and is comfortable saying things such as, " we are coming for you" to people who don't have a place to live is seriously dangerous. There is an office somewhere this man has measured, bought furniture for, and with the help of his loved ones decided to use the homeless as a stepping stool to get there. He has visualized a better place for him and his and the homeless are his ticket there.

A security guard told me the other day that thousands of people are coming here because we are fools and giving them things for free; it made me think that the homeless are the new Mexicans; what I always thought was racism is turning out to be hatred. There are people in this world who hate other people and the very moment they think they can get away hurting someone, they will do it. They will do it for us. For our city. For the hard working people of Los Angeles. And all we have to do is look the other way while they enjoy themselves harassing the homeless. It's a win-win.

In any other city I would say that it was a given; people would in fact look the other way and allow it to happen as long as they could keep their hands clean. In the city of Los Angeles I thought that it would be harder since people here do have a sympathy for the less fortunate; having said that, the cowardice they are displaying with the canceling crowd, apologizing for everything is extremely disappointing. Not very inspiring at all.

Sheriff Johnny Good Old Boy has placed a bet and had the courage to stand in front of a live mike to cast himself as the savior, the villain, the hero who will clean up the streets of Los Angeles; by doing so, he called all the Hollywood elite and the powerful rich liberals a bunch of wussies. His bet is that when things get rough they will run to their mansions until the dust settles. Perhaps they will tweet from inside the safety of their castles their indignation. Time will tell if this "good old boy" is right.

For now, I watch this girl walk away and wonder how her day will be. Who is she? Who has once loved her, bathed her, set her blanket over her shoulder and kissed her good night?

I know you are out there. Look carefully at the picture; I didn't want to intrude in her life so I took the shot it from afar. Zoom in and see if she is yours. Come and claim her as the daughter you gave birth to. She is living in a tenth by the I-10 highway. Come for her.

Come to claim your daughter before Sheriff Gung-ho does.

Every human being I encounter at night and talk to: police officers, homeless, security guards, passerby, leaves me with more and more questions.

I look at the tenths, at the faces sleeping inside buses and subway cars and I hear over and over again, the anthem of the inhuman kind: " we are coming for you."

No empathy. No compassion. No humanity. Just disdain. Hatred. Opportunity.

This is heartbreaking!

a couple of personal anecdotes:

in 2010 when I moved to Los Angeles, I was sitting inside my car at around 10pm at night when a boy, around 10 years old, knocked on my window. I opened and he asked me for money. 10 years old. I gave him money and asked him if he was alone and he pointed to his mother. I opened the door to talk to them and startled them; they ran away. I called the police and reported it and after waiting for them to show up for more than an hour one of the police officers, after explaining the situation with beggars in Los Angeles looked at me and told me: " If you are so worried about these people take them to live in your home" I lost my cool with him and told him that he should do another job because being of service was not his calling. In the end, the kid got $20. I lost my time. And the police officer was a lost soul in a police uniform.

My youngest daughter Isabella, 8 years old, would give $5, $10, $20 for every homeless person she saw on our way to the Santa Monica beach. So much so that one day a homeless person recognized her and crossed the street to say hi, and hand her a $5 bill.

They recognized immediately a soul that understood the plight of being a human being and they loved her.

My 8 year old daughter would have made a great Sheriff.

Thursday, July 1, 2021

Snapshots

Los Angeles, 07.06.2021

Day 6

A man sleeps on the sidewalk in downtown L.A. Around 5AM.

A security guard taps on the metal to wake up a sleeping homeless while the other gentleman awaits to wash the sidewalk. It's morning in downtown L.A.

As I cross the street, this young kid sits in the middle of the sidewalk...

...before falling down to sleep.

Another man sleeps on the sidewalk.

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

A Covid-19 update

"Imagine all the people, sharing all the world." John Lennon and Yoko Ono

(A Tribute to All Medical Personnel)

PART FOUR

The Silent Worldwide Pandemic - We the People.

Alone, human beings are not islands, we are viruses. We don’t belong, we don’t have common goals, even when it appears we do. Humans can be alone in groups, distancing themselves from others considered less than: wrong color, wrong clothes, wrong sex, wrong social class, wrong God. A virus kills its host, yet, it doesn’t plan to do so, it serves a genetic code and it is quite beautiful, if you take the time to study it. It won’t stop until it reaches the top of the hill, and when the rock rolls down to the bottom of the hill, a virus will pick up where it left off, unrelenting, e.g. republicans using the worldwide pandemic to ban abortions, therefore circumventing the Supreme Court decision guaranteeing women those rights; democrats absurd position on late term abortions. Both groups pushing their rocks uphill no matter what; reasoning be damned.

Our constitution crafted by prejudices, paranoia, greed and the fear of death; fallacies, the cornerstone of our civil discord.

Once the medical community has the Coronavirus under control, we will engage in a new fight, against the pandemic of false prophets and politicians; and our new orders will be GO OUT & SOCIALIZE...

..............................

SOMEWHERE OVER THE PANDEMIC,

the skies are blue; or perpetually gray if you live in London, yellow-reddish in Morocco, and in Sao Paulo and Beijing, you can’t see the sky at all. Yes, we still have things we need to fix; but we are on our way. Considering that we have not only survived the Pandemic of 1918, but thrived after that, it was a matter of time, patience and diligence to adapt to the whims of nature during the 2020 pandemic.

We have learned a few things these past few years; humans want to conquer, but nature teaches us that our only choice is to assimilate and adapt. These days, we are a bit more humble, appreciative of others. Some of our habits have permanently changed, and we do not bat an eye seeing anyone wearing a mask in public. The masks are manufactured in different colors to announce to everyone whether you have a cold, flu or the coronavirus, and at what stage of the cycle you are. It is uncommon to see anyone traveling by subways, or by plane not wearing a mask.

For all of us, 2020 will mark the time where everything changed; family members, friends, acquaintances we met while traveling in Europe and Asia, in the years before the pandemic, now forever gone. It won’t be the year we had to stay inside the houses, it will be remembered as a shift in our collective consciousness.

After the pandemic, it became very clear to us that we could no longer rely on religion leaders and politicians. A movement began to take shape around the beginning of 2021 and we went from quarantining together for survival to planning a future where little by little, the government began losing its grip in our lives. The same way that the medical community rallied together worldwide to save people’s lives, we came together and seriously addressed the two main reasons for our distrust in one another: politicians and false prophets, a.k.a religious leaders. Put it bluntly, we no longer need leaders, we need each other.

Back in 2020, politicians were simple to figure out, although no less a terrifying bunch; meeting one meant that you had just met a person trying to determine how you could help him achieve his goals. Their proposition was simple: we are part of a group, and we need something; there is a group over there that has it and doesn't want to share with us; there is another group that doesn’t have it and are after what we have. Elect me, and I assure you that you will have what you want and together we will protect what is ours.

Read that again to see how stupid that idea is, and yet millions of people gobbled that up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I never liked politicians; every time I heard one speaking, the same thought crossed my mind: I need a bigger spoon for the bullshit you’re selling.

The pandemic of 2020 was a necessary evil, for we finally saw politicians' genetic code in a different light. When the medical community asked you geographic questions, they were trying to determine what kind of diseases you might have been exposed to, in order to save your life. They take their hippocratic oath seriously. When politicians asked you your race, they were trying to determine your costumes, so that they can determine your intolerances, so that they can find a group you might have an issue with, in order for them to cast themselves as the solution, to a problem you didn’t have in the first place; therefore advancing their agenda.

The year 2020 was the year we finally understood that politicians invaded our communities like viruses invaded our cells and changed it from within. So now we have shortened their terms in office, we hold them accountable and vote them out of office at lightning speed when they are self-serving. The reforms we passed within five years of the 2020 pandemic put an end to their manipulations; now they are servants, their salaries are fixed, and consequently, there are fewer of them. We vote them out swiftly the moment they don’t serve the community interest.

Our relationship with religion is a bit more complicated because they have parts of it right; it is only when we see ourselves as whole, a worldwide community, that we have the chance to grow a healthy society and guarantee the survival of our species. It is when religious leaders sell life beyond this one that things begin to get fuzzy. Pulling on the strings of our fear of dying; like viruses, they invaded our subconscious mind and divided us in groups, and demanded that we act according to their beliefs and dogmas. In that environment, our customs will clash, the clothes we wear will clash and the Gods we pray too will always have something to say about the other Gods. I’ve yet to find a single inclusive God in the history of mankind.

Foregoing religion and embracing a loving God for all, as well as respecting and accepting each other's faiths was the best decision we made as a species. We kept all of our traditional rituals for their beauty and now it is not uncommon for people to join each other’s religious ceremonies in celebration of God and the life given to us. I go to churches, synagogues, temples in communion with others and when I close my eyes, I see my grandmother, grandfather, my mother and I visit a girl I love when I was 9 years old.

By the year 2025, the world opened up to us like a cell. Without politics and religion dividing us, we took to traveling everywhere, meeting new people, eating their food and listening to their music, participating in religious ceremonies of others and praying to their Gods; as well as ours. It is estimated that 4.5 billion people were outside of their native country every single day in a single calendar year. Our new mantra became GO OUT & SOCIALIZE.

The first country I visited was Yemen, a land that has fascinated me from the time I saw the first picture of their mountains. Shaharah, with its geometric shapes carved right off the mountains, and its spectacular 17th century footbridge that join villages and span across mountains defying gravity, held together only by the grace of mathematics. The Bridge of Sighs, how is known, stood before me like a reminder: that I’m alive, that life is short, that I ought to be listening to a song. Stairway to Heaven immediately came to mind but before I knew Smokey Robinson was singing My Girl. I stood there thinking: “I've got all the riches baby one man can claim/oh yes I do.”

I visited Shibam; its anil colored skies met by green at the horizon, and land carried to the forefront of our mind by its beige pastel tones. Buildings made of mud and earthy tone turned orange by a sleepy sun. You can see its colors on the painting “Three Reds” by Brennie Brackett, another place I travel to in meditation.

Unbeknownst to the painter, I lifted the vase and replaced the white cloth with one of my grandmother's embroidered work. I can still see her sitting there, mid afternoon, quietly embroidering. My grandmother was peace itself.

Shibam, under the light of a retrieving sun, is an unforgettable site. The Yemeni women heading to pray and giving thanks to a new life, dressed by their own choice in my favorite color,

black

like arrows that

fell from the sky;

their voices like songs

in flight

forever kept in my heart

And mind.

Henry, my goodfellow, forever standing by my side. Come, let us visit the Sufi monasteries and sit down for some coffee, while we make our way to Mecca, Cairo, Istanbul, Egypt..The coffee trail.

After religion and politics were put aside, we had to figure out a way to come to terms with our differences, and we did; we simply agreed that we believed in different things. Yes, I disregarded the complexity of the human condition, it was prejudicial to a solution. Imagine a world where we can be free of the voices in our head, the tantalizing voices telling us that all the problems are derived from other people. If other people behave the way we want all will be fine, “I have the right way. I am certain it would be best for everyone,” thinks each single person.

A virus has a single program once infects someone: invades the cell, changes it, multiplies itself. Unless it is killed or it kills the host, will continue with its course of action without deviations.

I know that we are not viruses, but I am sure that sometimes we behave as one without knowing, think of a kid | Part 3 | falling in love with someone and walking away from that person not knowing why for almost 35 years. So we might as well commit to one single action everyone would follow. Each religion and every religion is right, if God wants someone killed he knows how to do it himself. Our agreement is that, for the 100 years we each spend on this earth we will not hurt each other. If God decides to punish all of us when we die, so be it. God will judge us all in the end.

Out of all the people in the world, if the religious people are right, there will be no forgiveness for the people with no faith, the atheists. I am willing to take this chance if everyone just put their god damn guns on the ground; break some bread, some coffee. I will even drink tea if that's what it takes.

It took me long to post this. I read it over and over again, and the only note the key on my piano played loudly and repeatedly was:

the human condition, the human condition, the human condition

I thought about asking God except that I don’t believe He exists; so I went to see a girl I love when I was 9 years old. I sat there for the longest time. She caught me staring: “ Eyes on the blackboard, mister.” she gestured to me and I did what she told me to do. I always listened to every word she said. Tia Zelia was enumerating the responses available to us; she wrote the number 2 on the blackboard, corresponding to the second answer. Karla Maria got my attention again. The light coming from the window, bouncing off her hair was mesmerizing. The number 2. Light. Particles. Traveling. A 9 year old child. Love.

God, how does all of this fit together?

the human condition, the human condition, the human condition

It is ludicrous to think of a simple agreement that would allow us to share this world in peace and cooperation,

the human condition, the human condition, the human condition

It is naive to think of a simple agreement that would allow us to share this world in peace and cooperation,

the human condition, the human condition, the human condition

I looked at Karla again, smiling at something, and everything slowed down to flow. I thought about Newton and the time he forgot to listen to his inner child and mistook love with an ether; until a little boy came along following a beam of light, in possession only of a child's imagination and a few numbers and letters. E=mc ²

The pundits looked at his clothes, his social status, his jewish heritage, looking for a way to dismiss the imaginative simplicity of his idea. Mathematics is not dissuaded by politics, religion or the human condition; it sustains its truths and holds our material universe in place, unimpressed by the egoic monuments we create to ourselves.

I thought of Esperanto, the most beautiful and simple idea of an universal language and yet, no one has accepted. I know precisely why. We like ourselves the way we are: we like our heritage, our culture and the way our name sounds when it's called by someone who loves and accepts us. We like our music, bread and butter, coffee, tea. We like what we like, and the only way all of this works is by accepting and sharing.

Our name is the first note we hear from our mothers and fathers and that becomes our music. The soundtrack that codes our life programming.

The experiences we have make us unique, and it represents the particular place we come from. You wouldn't think of building a house in California with the same materials they use in Niterói. You wouldn’t think of never hearing the italian idiom again, or french or never again seeing the majestic Arabic script on white paper; how could we ever replace any of that with Esperanto.

We are different. We like different things. We believe in different Gods. Or no Gods at all. Let us agree to that and share our beliefs in communion.

While you read this, millions of doctors around the world are out there risking their lives to save our loved ones. They don’t see color, creed, or death itself. They are risking the only lives they have because their piano key plays one simple note over and over and over…

the hippocratic oath the hippocratic oath the hippocratic oath

Three words. One simple idea. One agreement. Enough to make doctors, nurses and staff risk their only existence for us. Worldwide. As my beloved Renee did.

IN MEMORIAM: NYSNA Nurse RENEE FRENCH - click on photo to donate.

An unforgettable human being; one of the nicest person I've ever met.

Sunday, May 23, 2021

The Muse | a collection of poems |

"There is always a song to be sung,

and I surround the one on the stage:

crowding him, reminding him

to sing, to dance, to pretend...

I like the fearful,

the devotees...

I smile to them my Mona Lisa smile..."

| Death speaking - from the poem The Muse |

available on Amazon

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Namaste

“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of
energy, frequency and vibration" Nikola Tesla

Monday, May 3, 2021

Sometimes you need THE LOUDNESS OF OTHERS

Bamboo Water Fountain Healing

For everyone out there struggling with depression or "cabin fever" due to the pandemic: to sit in meditation, quietude, listening to music, is extremely important; but sometimes the voices in our heads are too loud and unrelenting and as soothing as this is, it won't help you. At those times only the loudness of the ones who have been back from hell will set you on a straight path.

I am not being paid by these people; I recommend because their content is phenomenal. Hundreds of interviews with people like you | Music Kpop | this Bamboo Water Fountain will not heal you until you understand IN YOUR BONES that you are not unique; you are not alone, tons of people have had the same thoughts as you and they made it to the other side. All their stories are here.

Granted, a few of them annoyed the hell out of me: snake oil salesman.. but we are talking about 4 people amid almost A THOUSAND interviews.

IMPACT THEORY

WOMEN OF IMPACT

INSIDE QUEST
| i wish to the stars that they add the tab for this on the site itself. Amen! |

HEALTH THEORY

The Bilyeu's

There you have it MUSIC KPOP.... the help you asked for. Everyone else, please share!

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

Eça de Queiroz - Think Differently

"Don't be afraid to think differently than other people; be afraid to share their beliefs, only to find out that you've all been wrong." Eça de Queirós