Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Nomad On The Roam
Peace!
The AOisConsolidating
Saturday, December 1, 2007
My iPod's Next Genesis
Yesterday as I sat contemplating thoughts that I needed to read "The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius", my mind grasped for some vision of how I might complete this daunting task. I leave for work each morning at 4 am. When I finally close my 6 am to 2:30 pm shift at Beam Global, I make a small pit stop at home to refresh the iPod, check some email, and get a small meal before I am back out of the house to pick Jah'kaya up from school. Upon picking up Jah'kaya, I head over to Auset's house to assist her with homework, oversee the cleaning of her room, and generally engage in quality discussion regarding her day. This entire cycle ends at 8 pm when I return home to fall into a deathly sleep for the dawning of a new day.
My self assigned writing tasks demand that I feed my mind anew with rich language, anecdotes, and broad shades of philosophical discourse in the midst of such a rigorous schedule. Enter here LibriVox, LearnOutLoud, and eJunto which expanded my listening hemisphere of the number of narrated works that are available in the public domain and often with no cost associated. In a single day, I was able to expand my library with not only "The Meditations", but the "Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass", "As a Man Thinketh" by James Allen, and longstanding standards such as Plato's "Republic" and Sun Tzu's "The Art Of War". I don't imagine that I will entertain the latter two with any great frequency since I gain far more from the actul written works, but they are literary necessities in every available form.
Peace(s) Of Me!
The AOMagnanimous
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Coming Back Home To The Free Expression Of Thought
I have met someone that kind of makes the spirited free verse of each passing day feel like the song of eternity. I have realized how deeply I fell for another person. I have realized that the pen I tend to play with so willfully just might hold greater possibility than I have ever assigned to it. I have realized that what you say and do with each day matters. I will likely lay aside trying to go back and dredge up for you all of the feelings that were evoked when performing "The Literate Epoch" for the attendees at the True Love For The Culture album release, but suffice it to say that I gained an expanded artistic respect for my brother Karega Ani who participated on that project. Expect a review and introduction of some of his material in the future. The participation in this project led to further work with Unsilenced Press on the Domestic Violence Awareness month feature "Brothas On The Mic" which was a magnificent show of talent and respect for sisters and sisterhood and the solidarity of brothers behind that ideal. I have realized that I'm weird and quirky for all of the right reasons and rather than begrudging myself these quirks, I had better find people who appreciate them or I will never be happy, content, or satisfied. Expect me to lose none of these lessons going forward. My apologies for the disjointed thoughts, but I now know it to be better to say something even if it lacks the full clarity than to continue to muddle with it in your head until your forget it in favor of another thought.
PeaceIs!
The AOMusicSoulChild
Sunday, September 9, 2007
I Hate You So Much Right Now
Wait Wait Wait...Hold the phone. Did she say that she wrote this after visiting a website where everyone was spewing their venomous insight on why they hate Jill Scott. I wish more artists had as fluid a method of analyzing their emotions as this one. All things have their root in a context of creativity if we are willing to visualize past the present moment. If this is where you go from hate, I have some rough drafts of some very acidic hate mail that I need to send your way. The haters must be stewing in the juice of their own mediocrity right now.
I can't stand you! Always Gettin' In My Way and throwing Honey Molasses on my plans. I Think It's Better that you never Cross My Mind cause you won't be experiencing any Love Rain. I will take A Long Walk to Philly and get down like Whatever and when I leave, I will be Golden. (Come on girl, you know I was just playing, right?)
SpreadLove!
The AOIntelligent
Friday, September 7, 2007
Sweet Like Honeydew?
I'm sorry ya'll. I must have been on the late train. I happened to be channel surfing across VH1 Soul when I landed upon an artist by the name of Geno Young. The warm melody and subtle vocal stylings of Young combined with an almost unbearably sweet video make for a song that grabbed and held my attention inspiring me to follow after the trail of this artist. Ghetto Symphony is the name of his debut album. Little did I know, but came to discover that he was the vision behind those seminal works, "Time's A Wastin" and "Orange Moon", from Badu's Mama's Gun album. You mean the source behind one of Erykah's most understated classics has a solo work all his own? I had to jump on it. Then he enlists Celia from Les Nubians to play a part in bringing vision to the voice. I can't take this one out of rotation in my Miro player. I will be back with a review of the album once I have it on hand. I haven't forgotten to give you an update on that True Love for the Culture event, but I was waiting until I finally uploaded the pictures. Until next time, stay sweet like honeydew.
Friday, August 24, 2007
True Love For The Culture Album Release Party
Listen To The True Love For The Culture Compilation Here
What do you create when you combine one of the loves of my brief Life, Tigi Nii, with her own undying devotion and love for the people particularly the young people? You create a brief, yet potent compilation of artists who have come together out of their mutual love, respect, and admiration for the youth to give voice to messages that were felt might enrich their souls and stimulate their minds.
The plan for the project is that it will be distributed both locally and nationally directly to youth and organizations that work with youth in a mission to spread the message in the music. The website listed above features not only each of the tracks included on the compilation, but also the method of contacting Tigi in order to obtain FREE copies of the compilation CD and its associated chapbook for your organization. The chapbook includes the lyrics to these magnificent compositions as well as bios of the feature artists and a closing message from each artist to the youth.
On Saturday, August 25th, the release party will be held at Mercury Café located at
For those who have never heard me reference myself as such, I am the artist featuring as Tekhen on the track with Karega Ani, a brilliant artist out of
Peace!
Mikey------------------------------Tekhen-----------------------The AOMuse
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Dance: The Cure For What Ails You
Summertime in Chicago is known for many things. Increased traffic as folks who stowed their convertibles for a harsh winter now bring them back to compete for lanes on Lake Shore Drive. The unusual notion that you are simultaneously delighted and disgusted at the daily beach report which outlays the level of bacteria that is present in Lake Michigan and determines the beach going behavior of a careful few. And never to be ignored, forgotten, or disparaged are the profuse number of neighborhood festivals held throughout Chicagoland.
If you have been aware enough to attend any of those festivals that are held in Chicago's downtown area, you may have come across an ingenious little event known to we Chicago natives as the Summer Dance. A festival brought about to celebrate low cost Sangrias, live bands from every musical genre, and the joy of people dancing on a hardwood dance floor with just enough alcohol in the blood to prevent you from talking yourself out of a good time.
I was once quoted as saying that we could cause a movement of peace across the planet if we promoted this concept worldwide. Pretentious attitudes tend to melt away when a crowd of onlookers are worked into a rhyrhmic frenzy during a jam session by the Chicago Afrobeat Project, Funkadesi, or Kokolo. There is also no shortage opportunities to learn to move with other styles to which you are not yet accustomed. If you are a brave soul, come out to Grant Park, throw back one of those $5 Sangrias and find your way to the dance floor. You may find kindred soul in rhythm such as myself. As the old mystic aphorism goes, it is only when you lose yourself (in the rhythm, some forget that part) that you will find yourself again.
I must graciously thank Ms. Ashera and Ms. Elise for attending this year's festivities with me. They were very capable of handling themselves on the floor since I occasionally become quite intense. I must also offer my thanks to that sister with the short cropped cut who rocked a tank top and a full length blue jean skirt whose Ebon complexion evoked all sorts of emotions in me beyond the dance floor. I am quite sorry the excitement caused me to miss your name. I experienced a physical rapport with you in that moment that was unable to be matched for the remainder of the evening. Respect!
Monday, July 30, 2007
shala esquire's Seven Spoon
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Sea Legs
Remember the first time you touched the water with those wildly flailing arms and stiff, unsteady legs? Can you recall the touch of excitement meddled with apprehension of the chlorinated mixture that kept finding its way into your throat coupled with the resultant tummy ache from having swallowed a gallon of salt or pool water? Don't you dare turn your nose up! As disgusting as it might sound in your adult phase, it happened to you too
Think back to the time when you had thoroughly embraced your merman/mermaid heritage and you succeeded in ripping from one end of the pool to another. For myself, this was a summer at Camp Mathieu somewhere in southern Illinois. I was reeling from the recent disclosure that at age 8 or 9, I was a recovering bedwetter. It had to come out at some time. Hopefully this revelation will not come back around to bite me in any future political campaign since others can clearly relate to it. *Listens for crickets chirping amongst the audience*
In any case, I was in dire straits to find a success during that summer. Already, I had been bested on the cross terrain bicycle race due to my unfortunate discovery of a ditch on the far right side of the racing lane. I was also never able to keep up with the other children in arts and crafts who had mastered the magnificent art of making those braided rubber key chains. My fingers are still not nimble enough to this day to string one together especially when my patience is the width of that string, at least as far as craftwork is concerned.
In the midst of this tumultuous season, I found myself gleefully splasing about in the pool with 50 or so other campers that had been allotted pool time on this scorching summer day. As the whistle was blown announcing the end of our time, I found myself wading toward the wall intending to make my exit. I was halted by a counselor beckoning me to make my way down to the shallow end of the pool. I was immediately filled with a sense of danger since I had been in the habit of attracting the attention of summer employees who obviously earned their physical education degrees under the careful instruction of the Marquis De Sade. Fortunately, this would not a new spin on table squats or bucket holding. This counselor just wanted to see if I would accept his challenge to swim from 3 feet to 9 feet.
I beckoned on all the courage my adolescent frame could muster. I was not in the habit of putting on shows since I can't bear the thought of people staring at me. As I stretched out that first straight arm and cupped hand, I threw my face into the water in a frenzied manner. 4 feet. I twisted my head from one side to the other to prevent drowning myself in the drink. I reached out my arm as if I was attempting to grasp the safety bar at the wall on the 9 foot side. 6 feet. I found my wispy arms becoming weary against of the pressure of the waters they were churning through. 7 feet. The body could stand no more and the legs began to give out. 8 feet. The safety bar on the left wall was my salvation that faithful day. I swam maybe 20 feet that day which was more sustained cardiovascular work than I had been accustomed to performing aside from the intensity of my bike rides. I will never forget the first time I earned my sea legs.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Rashida
Everyone give your best greeting to Rashida. She is an interesting character that can be encountered here in Chicago if you look very carefully on the second Sunday after the full moon where the third star in Orion's belt can be seen on the far East rock near Promontory Point. Sorry. My subtle attempt at humor to offer some semblance of how often I get to see her, but still I find her quite the treat when she is in town.
Determined, explorative, adventurous, and willing to put up with a non sequitur such as myself. Isn't that printed tee great? The two little ones pictured above are Gizmo (above) and Chewie (below). They have faces that bear an uncanny resemblance to their respective namesakes. She has just returned to Boston to complete a contract so I will have to fast and meditate for another 6 or 7 weeks at best until her return. Until that time, I always have my blog, these photos, and the waning days of my seasonably warm Chicago summer.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Birthday Afterthoughts
In the end, I want you to know that I was proud of how you handled that day. I know other children that would have thrown a tantrum over such a spartan celebration. My objective here was to teach you the value of honoring the people and relationships that exist around you instead of honoring things. The love you draw from these relationships will sustain you far longer than the temporal satisfaction that you derive from the things that people use to prop themselves up in the world.
I have my reservations about diving in so early to these values as I still have the traditional parental ideals to grapple with in wanting to give your children everything, but I hope to bypass these feeling to show you "everything else" that is traditionally forgotten while children learn the art of accumulation. Every gift you receive from me will follow the continued pattern of the piano and the guitar. They will all be chosen to guide you toward a new experience where you might ultimately find your way in Life. I look forward to holding your hand as we flesh out the rest of this parent child experiment.
PS...I have given up trying to figure out who you really are. I understand that sometimes we are not allowed to reveal these things early on. I am sure that someday you will reveal yourself to me. Until then, I hope you don't mind that I continue addressing you as Jah'kaya Sirius Tekhen.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Self Portrait
Nothing is more noble than the picture painted of you within the eyes of a child. If I judged from the above picture, maybe a better choice of adjective would be ignoble. I recall that at the height of my relationship with South Central Community Services I had reached a point of ecstatic joy at the fact that I felt I was in a place where I was accomplishing my purpose.
The dark side fell upon me when I came to the realization that not only was I not being paid what I was worth, but that I would never be paid any sum above the amount that they had allotted to the position on my date of hire. I was crushed. Every day in my time that I had opportunity to offer insight to a burgeoning young mind was a new level of insight as to why I had accepted the ministry placed upon our shoulders by Minister Ezekiel Khepera.
I had a voice that was soft in tone, but explosive when provoked to a position of thoughtful expression. A voice that I had truly never known or rarely used until I understood why I had to speak. The above portrait will remain a favorite of mine for years to come. It is a simple portrayal of a character with his thoughts flying in too many directions at once although the student fancied himself drawing my stringy locks.
I will experience many openings in the next few seasons as Michael, but there was one season in time where I was Mr. Strode and I will not fail to return to that time when I can affect change upon the greatest measure of the growing hive mind that is inner city youth.
Just A Matter Of Time
It was only a matter of time I suppose. No physical body can exist in that sphere of activity and sustain itself forever. Surely it would give out before its time.
Do you realize what you are seeing? It only took an initial purchase and an afterthought for me to realize. You see before you a pair of size 9 deep brown leather loafers with a rubber sole. Classy enough for work and durable enough for play.
I purchased them on Saturday for my attendance that evening at two consecutive "white" parties. Don't ask. Of course I was kind about the title they invoked in the naming of their parties. In any case, I have never owned very many shoes in my life that might be considered a loafer save the pair of black ones I received in my early teens which managed to crawl their way to the back of my closet to die a slow death. They were resurrected some 18 months later in one of my mother's annual closet sweeps which reaped massive benefits for the local Goodwill.
A pair of basic browns spelled out a new era in life. I am growing old. July 10 saw me turn the clock forward 27 years and some change. The things which once held so much sway over my life approach now cease to hold even my most base interest.
The thrill of chasing about behind random women; the allure of the newest and latest sound in music; and the desire to create a tastemaker of myself in the realm of fashion have all lost their flavor.
Now I just want to lounge in the comfort of a khaki suit in my deep brown loafers and wonder why Frankie Beverly can improve the mood of any jam session while leading up the playlist with an order of MF Doom, Prince, Madlib, and Miles in the comfort three or four other random souls.
Don't get me wrong. I still love an impromptu street race with the cretin at the light who is attempting to cut me off in traffic as much as the next man, but I am no longer attached to that outcome enough to consider it any further than the next stop sign. I can also still play a mean game of ultimate frisbee and at least stave off defeat for a short while in a grappling match.
At the end of the day, I now understand that my youthful vigor and vibrance will not be maintained because I allow myself to be tethered to what I did 5 years ago, but in the spirit of enjoyment, laughter, and playfulness that I bring to others who are a part of my life. All it took to realize this lesson was a pair of deep brown, rubber soled leather loafers size 9.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Where It Gets Real?
Okay. Here I am. The innocent and naive baba going about my day washing off the newly delivered Juiceman juicer when what should I hear from the next room, but the most perfect voice in the planet announcing to her own world that Tasha was going to hang out with a boy. Aaaaaahhhh! Who is Tasha, you ask? Tasha Imani Tekhen was our latest delivery from a certain Bear Building Workshop. The boy in question is last year's arrival, The Clover Kid, who was my attempt at building the ultimate good luck charm in the midst of the White Sox frenzy. What ever happened to two bears being able to sit over a cup of tea without having such defined gender roles? Alas, another time I suppose.
P.S. This is my first of what I suppose will be many mobile blogs from my Palm Treo 650. Since I sit in front of a monitor all day updating tickets and troubleshooting issues, I really hate doing so at home which is why I am such a late arrival to the blogosphere. I could get used to this sort of thing. God bless the moboblog.