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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/490178-Mouride-sweet-potato-and-redred-dip-B-sharp-major
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Rated: 13+ · Book · Personal · #982524
Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation.
#490178 added February 23, 2007 at 9:56pm
Restrictions: None
Mouride, sweet potato and redred dip, B-sharp major
L'aura del campo

WINTER: 17 Mulk (23 February) 59º on a pleasant afternoon.


'é a lua, é a lua, na quintana dos mortos'
♣ Federico García Lorca ♣


Mouride

I attended a keynote address by Allen F. Roberts (UCLA)for the opening of the traveling exhibition "A Saint in the City; Sufi Arts of Urban Senegal".

The exhibit at the Spencer Art Museum is very well done, recreating a typical room, using a recurring theme of archways, incorporating music, patchwork clothing, street scenes, murals, calligraphy and the written Word of God as healing.

The Mouride are followers of the Sufi saint, Sheik Amadou Bamba. His influence is felt throughout the region in dress, music, arts and an attitude towards work:

"Work as if you'll never die; pray as if you'll die tomorrow."


~ Sheik Amadou Bamba

A link about mouride:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mouride

A link about the exhibit:
http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0438/is_4_35/ai_104520725

I know students taking Wolof here at K.U. who will be spending a semester in Senegal; I assume in Dakar. So, I find this interesting.

On Saturday there is a Sufi Poetry Reading featuring the works of Ibn Arabi, Abu Madyan, Amadou Bamba (Arabic), Ahmed Nabhany (Swahili) and Nama Asma'u (Hausa).

Me, my friends and my family

Went to ECM veggie lunch. Saw Richard, Allyson, Laura and Ryan (still want to call him Andrew ...). I missed the seminar on the Swedish Health System held yesterday. I need to get out more. *Frown*

I got up before 8 Thursday, which is good, but was tired by 10 and then again at 1:30. I don't get much accomplished when I have no energy. (And 4:30 and 8:30)

No trace of the orange notebook yet, so I'm writing in the next one. It's lavender and I don't do that color any better than pank. *Laugh*

Made an accordian book and one in a matchbook at class Wednesday night. My poem 'Bookmakers' needs to be revised to give to them next week. The teacher called stickpins 'student awls'.

Thursday at the reception: sweet potato fritters, yassa chicken satay, kelewele plantains (tostones), redred dip (black-eyed peas).

Friday and I'm dragging. Met John at Aimees who is studying thermo-chronology, a field within geology. By measuring the amount of helium and the decay of uranium/thorium he can determine the temperature of the mineral, Apatite, over time. This would vary by how close to the surface it has been (cooler) or whether it has been in touch with a hot spot (like beneath Hawai'i or Yellowstone). John has collected rocks from 4 locations in the Grand Canyon; having had to repel to get some of them. One location is a 3,500 foot cliff. His eyes twinkled when I mentioned the Great Rift on Mars. He'd go tomorrow.

And then I met Patricia who is my age and we talked about April 4, 1968 when Martin Luther King was assassinated. Elle est une femme d'un certain age, I told her. We have a different perspective on the times we lived through as opposed to young people who read about it (if they bother, that is). Her diary as a teenager has been used for a thesis (by someone else) and will be presented soon. She also showed me her slide show for a friend who recently died (the 15th) of AIDS; she used the music "My funny Valentine". What a joy to have met her. She teaches at UMKC.

IMAGES and RAMBLINGS

A curtain of haze hangs before the silent moon, cold crescent of light, waxing in the Western sky. An eastern breeze waves the flags at the top of the hill; in the valley it is calm.

I am transferring early blog entries to files on my hard-drive. Then deleting them here. One of the joys in rereading 'stuff' from June of '05 are the images I recorded. So, I'm glad I can save them elsewhere.

WATT'S GNU!

Where there is a way, there is hope. Some Muslim women are managing to be modest while swimming by wearing new designer swimsuits. Personally, I don't understand the scarf ... wouldn't a swimming cap suffice?

A link on modest swimsuits:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070218/ap_on_re_us/muslim_women_swimsuits

I saw 'Asma today who is an American Muslim from Kansas City who is now working in D.C. She is a wonderful people-person and worked with Human Rights and improving relationships between people when she was a student at K.U. She is quite traditional. I didn't get to ask her about swimsuits.

The weather has been Spring-like. There is something special about the lengthening days and the return of warmth. Today the weather is changing and we may get thunderstorms and violent winds. Then the weather will become mild again (after a few flakes). No crocuses yet.

*Reading* READING *Reading*

Finished Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun. Haunting in a way. Not very sentimental at all. Good writing.

I'll need to read more David Kirby; his poetry is very different than my style. I loved "Broken Promises". It is very insightful about our relationship to the promises we've made and have not kept, even the small ones to ourselves.

BLOGVILLE

AL Author Icon got me with two recent entries: "Invalid EntryOpen in new Window. shows two photos of her and "Invalid EntryOpen in new Window. is a charming story of children and milk, flour and raspberries.

galinago has an awesome picture of green jays and other avian fauna in South Texas: "Invalid EntryOpen in new Window..

In B-sharp major

Long fingers tease out the tangles,
pluck at the strings, every strand,
as he strums the guitar. In the band
his voice joins in a descant
hovering over the audience,
held in his hands. His fingers,
long, strong and delicate,
tease at their thoughts, smooth
out the stress with each hallelujah,
they beckon,
filled with joy to their tips.

[163.583]

And yes, I know B-sharp is C. *Bigsmile*

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 Kåre *Flower5* Enga

~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop, The Fish

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