Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
"This incredible photo marks the end of Matador
Torero Alvaro Munera’s career. He collapsed in remorse mid-fight when
he realized he was having to prompt this otherwise gentle beast to
fight. He went on to become an avid opponent of bullfights. Even
grievously wounded by picadors, he did not attack this man.
Torrero Munera is quoted as saying of this moment: 'And suddenly, I looked at the bull. He had this innocence that all animals have in their eyes, and he looked at me with this pleading. It was like a cry for justice, deep down inside of me. I describe it as being like a prayer - because if one confesses, it is hoped, that one is forgiven. I felt like the worst shit on earth.' "
Torrero Munera is quoted as saying of this moment: 'And suddenly, I looked at the bull. He had this innocence that all animals have in their eyes, and he looked at me with this pleading. It was like a cry for justice, deep down inside of me. I describe it as being like a prayer - because if one confesses, it is hoped, that one is forgiven. I felt like the worst shit on earth.' "
Friday, August 24, 2012
Maura Fitzgerald: Better Aim - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics
Maura Fitzgerald: Better Aim - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics
a poem by ko shin
Learning another spiritual path by three shots in the
night, and death….
He heard three shots. It was late and given where he lived, not unusual.
The shots were close; at least they felt that way. Jimmy ran to the window
and carefully pushed the curtain back and saw a body lying on the
sidewalk, just down the block from his two-up. He ran to call 911, but
the sirens were already loud, maybe coming just around the corner
from the precinct.
He ran back and took one more look, Oh god he thought, that looks like
Ali, his high school friend and classmate.
He grabbed his coat and ran down the stairs and out into the street. Ali
was gone, dead at a very young age.
Jimmy knew that Ali and his family were often the brunt of cultural &
religious hatred. It seems, people, if they meet someone different,
think their dangerous, or something. Since 9/11 it had gotten worse.
“Why? Why my friend, was a Muslim?” The Hood was so culturally
mixed. “It doesn’t make sense” He thought.
It was a sad night, Jimmy hardly slept as I am sure as his neighbors experienced
the same sense of fear, loneliness and anger. Everyone knew
that someone in the hood was not happy with an Arab family living
nearby. Could that be the reason, or was it theft or a promise broken.
Ali was a friend to everyone.
Everyone showed up for the funeral at a Mosque on the other side of
the city. It was nice, the burial was really an experience, lowering Ali
into the ground and the prayers so for Jimmy, different as funerals go.
What a way to learn and experience another spiritual practice. Three
shots, a young life, what now? Jimmy took the bus home, a strange
sense of quietness over took him. He had learned something about life
today, death has a lesson for all of us. Three shots, silence broken, life
taken, & life continues…Ali
(Read at the Student Reading Week Three, SWP, Naropa, 2011 and edited by
Classmates and Dr. Williams)
a poem by ko shin
Learning another spiritual path by three shots in the
night, and death….
He heard three shots. It was late and given where he lived, not unusual.
The shots were close; at least they felt that way. Jimmy ran to the window
and carefully pushed the curtain back and saw a body lying on the
sidewalk, just down the block from his two-up. He ran to call 911, but
the sirens were already loud, maybe coming just around the corner
from the precinct.
He ran back and took one more look, Oh god he thought, that looks like
Ali, his high school friend and classmate.
He grabbed his coat and ran down the stairs and out into the street. Ali
was gone, dead at a very young age.
Jimmy knew that Ali and his family were often the brunt of cultural &
religious hatred. It seems, people, if they meet someone different,
think their dangerous, or something. Since 9/11 it had gotten worse.
“Why? Why my friend, was a Muslim?” The Hood was so culturally
mixed. “It doesn’t make sense” He thought.
It was a sad night, Jimmy hardly slept as I am sure as his neighbors experienced
the same sense of fear, loneliness and anger. Everyone knew
that someone in the hood was not happy with an Arab family living
nearby. Could that be the reason, or was it theft or a promise broken.
Ali was a friend to everyone.
Everyone showed up for the funeral at a Mosque on the other side of
the city. It was nice, the burial was really an experience, lowering Ali
into the ground and the prayers so for Jimmy, different as funerals go.
What a way to learn and experience another spiritual practice. Three
shots, a young life, what now? Jimmy took the bus home, a strange
sense of quietness over took him. He had learned something about life
today, death has a lesson for all of us. Three shots, silence broken, life
taken, & life continues…Ali
(Read at the Student Reading Week Three, SWP, Naropa, 2011 and edited by
Classmates and Dr. Williams)
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
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