#naphopomo Day 18 Westward leading......

....preferably to a beach with a bar.

Tribal War

There are no pictures, no record of what just happened, outside the front door, right here, in the road. No image of the thin boy with the little goatee beard who retrieved his "sharpen on both sides till it gleam  thinthin" cutlass, from the bush below the pole by next door's house, as cool as you like, after the POlice van pick up one suspect and move on, after the pick up pass and a woman's voice plead "Officer, let us pass we have four who get chop inside here" and the POlice move and let them drive down to the hospital. (A place where they can't cure your cancer but they well know how to handle chopping and unexpected amputations.) No video of them 20 or so ninja who appear from nowhere, after the POlice pass, from behind and out of  Miss UG's gap, giggling and running, strangers, not from inside of here.There is no soundtrack of the Village voices raised in anger, frustration, hurt and disbelief at what they just witnessed when the POlice come. Willis Big Red won the football match 4-1. Beaulieau lose and, pre armed, don't like that and run riot, after dark. The  Crossroads where it start, bottle pelt and thing. .They move on, cutlass, blade shining, they run into shop and chop up old lady playing' all fours' with she friend and them, small school child, who mother send her, on an errand, to the same shop for something, get a chop on she hand that she need for exam. They rage continue chop and run in by Andy the barber, chop the man who make balusters, until they bounce up with the police outside our door, where M16 rule and they run and hide in the dark and the shadow, only dogs that betray them and the POlice, SSU, RRU, CID Central, hold who they find, together with all from up here who now have axe to grind. We run from room to veranda for a better view, lights off, door locked but still, the need to see, adrenaline filled urge to witness and yet not. Is a movie, we in it and it just start.

Stress, Public Enemy and Escapism

1. Stress
If your passport was issued by any of the 'red' countries and you want to travel to certain European countries, you will need one of these. (You do not need to order this kit and pay, the application forms are available free, online, to print out and fill in) I think the red colour is particularly subtle. Is that a gray area I see on the West coast of Africa? Also this astounded me somewhat.

2. Public Enemy
Apparently I am wrong in my belief that the pipe in the back yard is for our use, for which we pay Nawasa every month, and have offended those, who have their own pipes but would prefer to use ours.

3.Escapism
In order to escape from the above I took refuge here where I have just won my first award.....
for being a workaholic.

What would you have done?

It was hot when I was planning on leaving town this afternoon. On reaching the bus terminal I was the first and only passenger. School was out but no-one seemed to be in any hurry to go home and I knew it would be a while before the bus filled up, which would entail sitting in the dark and the dust and the heat and the fumes that are integral to the building's design. (Whoever designed the terminal should be made to sit, interminably, on a bus that is waiting to fill ) I digress. I decided to go back into town and buy a soda from the nearest rum shop with a small veranda, that offers the chance of some breeze, a place to people watch and a nicotine opportunity. Now, I know this is a rum shop and can get a little rumbustious but everyone is friendly and we are accustomed going there and being outside is different from being inside. I buy the soda and take myself outside, sip, inhale, relax. Wonderful. It was only on hearing a raised, male, repetitive voice, from the opposite end of the veranda, that I realised all was not well. He seemed to be remonstrating a beautiful woman for something she had or had not done. When he pelted his half full drink in the drain, by way of demonstrating how vexed he was, I knew this was turning nasty. Quite a few people passing, slowed and turned to watch as he put his hands around her throat and shook her hard, but none stopped. He propelled her down my end of the veranda at the point where I was really hoping someone from inside would hear what was happening and come and restrain him. He was big, I am small and his wife/ girlfriend, whilst taller, was mute and passive, as he pushed hard and prodded hard and cursed harder. I knew where this was going, you could see the extreme anger about to surface, like milk when it is about to boil over. I felt like I had to catch it before it was too late. The veranda is small, I had my back to the wall and they were about six inches in front of me. He had her pinned to the railings. I cannot deny that I did want to up and leave at that point, but it just seemed so wrong. I heard a very small voice say "Excuse me", so I tried a little harder and shouted, in my best 'you are a very naughty child' voice, "EXCUSE ME. " and I hoped it would provide a little diversion for her to escape while he focused, as he did, eventually, on me. The response was what I should have expected and, thankfully, nothing more . "SHUT YOUR @#%&IN @%^*" Ah, yes, well, I did as I was told but not before going back into the shop and alerting them to what was happening and then, quietly, headed back to the bus. I was shaken. I have no idea what happened after I left, perhaps everyone laughed and ended up friends but I don't think so, was it a stupid thing to do, drawing attention to myself in an already volatile situation? Did my actions change anything? I doubt it. I write this post having read this just recently, I hate any form of confrontation and much prefer to live a quiet life but sometimes, I have to speak.
What would you have done?

Conspiracy

Tom.












Tom...











"Who?
Me?"

Yes Tom,
can you go
and sit
somewhere
else please?
I want to
stretch that
paper.


"O.K.
I'll just lie down
here then"


Tom, I need the
paints....






Dick,
what you doing there?
I trying to paint.



Yawn.
"Whatever"




Oh f*#@k
now look
what happen,
the paper
buckle
while my
back turn.





"What this is
Tom?"
"Dunno Dick,
I just
minding me
business,
seems like
she vexed
for some
reason."


"I wouldn't
eat that if
I were you"

DICK,
lay off the
Rose Madder
will you,
is all I have left.

"Told you"

BAD DA BOOM....


..... and
who pelt
the drawing board
in the yard?

Resolution

As 2008 drew to a close, I resolved to make 2009 the year when I would consciously try to live every day in a creative way, and to do this with compassion and empathy for others, whether I be weeding or cleaning, driving or washing, cooking or relaxing . This has been building for many years, sometimes buried by the detritus of mistakes, disapproval and diversions and the stuff of daily life but always there and always resurfacing and demanding attention. There are so many ideas and so much energy. Time has often served as the excuse not to make a piece of art, the usual fear and lack of confidence, coupled with the idea that I should be doing something 'other'. It has taken so long for me to realize that a creative act does not necessarily have to be a painted master piece on a perfectly stretched canvass, using the finest of materials, or that the daily chores need not be a grind or a distraction from my creativity, but a part of it. Finally, the penny dropped, I am my creativity and the life that I am living is my, albeit badly stretched and somewhat warped, canvass. With that in mind my thoughts turned to this blog and what changes could be made in the light of this new approach to life.
Then came Gaza.
There are so many things that I could say, so many feelings watching the news on the BBC. I am guilty, for, where ever there is conflict, I watch and do nothing. I am a voyeur of other people's suffering. Some demonstrate, remonstrate, speak out or deliberate, petition, protest or procrastinate. It is not much but I wanted to do something and in the light of the above resolution, the desire to find a common bond with humanity and in an effort to share our individuality, no matter where we live, what background we come from or what side they may say we are on, I determined to

share the creativity of others.

It is a small thing but one that, if we all searched the web and found like minded people in hidden places, places that we only hear about because of conflict, where, because of the nature of the news reports we are led to believe that everyone is a terrorist or a fanatic, and, instead, discovered people who share our passions, (mine is for art but it could equally be for writing or cooking or embroidery or poetry or music or dance etc.) and brought them to others' attention by means of our little blogs, no matter how small the readership, might just make it possible for the world to see that we are killing our brothers and our sisters.

You may find this idea simplistic and naive, it most probably is but, if you feel as I do, please feel free to share this post.
To those artists who are featured here, I pray that you are safe.