sometimes i feel if i could slow down enough to hear silence feel the air i'd know what i would say if i could slow down enough listen for something sometimes i feel a tremor times i feel slight and deep like these i feel a twinge and think a lapse of fear and resignation the affliction is still slightly present and dozing between layers of conscious and unconscious skin sometimes i feel nothing fits right bias is implicit it doesn't matter we can't escape capture corporeal if in truth the sleep of the just sleeps in us we never sleep you feel me?
it's the work, y'all. it's the work.
one way or another, you gots to do the work.
i saw a doc called the work, about groups forming within prison, with guys coming in from outside and joining with inmates. powerful. it struck me that the problems these guys had were of the same nature on the inside and free. the ones who wanted to do the work coming from the free world needed the prisoners to do the work with them. i once went to a men's group and it was similar, but these guys felt more raw, more real. they were captive, and they had been through hell, but they allowed the free ones to realize they had their own prisons and were locked inside them too.
i left that group after a little shame, unable to get real, i was in a hard place then, yet the role playing didn't work with me. i could see it working in the film. i thought then that we all have to do the work we have to do, to get to the deepest place in us. usually it starts when you are a kid. mister has helped me get to that place.
i forgot how happy i was, kid. thanks.
there's no frame around the experience.
lulu's getting more accustomed to my eccentric ways (and i to hers). i think this is most likely the first time she's sat in a tree, and after i helped her settle so as not to fall off she stayed for several pictures and then jumped down. this is a tree mister also sat in when he was a younger. it's a warm embracing tree. i can imagine a coyote sitting there too. all trees are spirits, but this is a special spirit tree that for us to sit in and contemplate, in the meadow by the lagoon among the pines.
By AARON GETTINGER
staff writer, the hyde park herald
The Reva and David Logan Foundation has approved a $100,000 general
operations grant to Protect Our Parks (POP), the group suing the City of
Chicago and the Chicago Park District to block construction of the
Obama Presidential Center in Jackson Park.
“We believe that this ‘land grab’ is both legally and morally wrong,
and that the City of Chicago, the Obama Foundation and their partners
need to reconsider their choice of location for this project,” said
board chairman Richard Logan in a statement. “There are so many sites in
the city that could benefit from the kudos, the opportunities for
employment and the neighborhood regeneration without taking public land
and destroying historic city parklands.”
The Logan Foundation grant comes with few strings: it “may be used to
pay the ever-mounting legal fees or for whatever purpose Protect Our
Parks feels will further its just cause.”
Protect Our Parks president Herb Caplan was ecstatic over “this
generous grant to support a successful conclusion of our pending
lawsuit.”
“We appreciate the Logan Foundation’s understanding of the importance
of our efforts as well as the demonstration of a common interest in
protecting historic Jackson Park from illegal exploitation from a
misconceived non-public park use,” he said in a statement.
In an email sent to the Herald, Caplan said that his attorney Mark
Roth “casually let it drop to the defendants that a major foundation
(one that UChicago knows well) has agreed to support POP all the way to
the Supreme Court if necessary and to aid us in further fundraising with
other foundations and the public.”
Reva and David Logan, now deceased, donated $35 million for the
performing arts center at the University of Chicago that bears their
name. Their Chicago-based Foundation is known for its support of social
justice initiatives, scholarships and investigative journalism.
Protect Our Parks v. Chicago Park District is still in the discovery
process after U.S. District Court Judge John Robert Blakey rejected the
defendants’ bid to have it dismissed earlier this year.
~ yay! oh, i love you reva and david logan!
lulu's back. we walked south by the old running track. people were using it since obomba's new one was ordered halted. the geese scuttled off indignant. we walked around the stalled track and over to the island. we saw the blue beamer and a hunched diminutive crone guarding the bridge, the poisoner levy. they were burning the island and forbade us entry, so we had to go by way of the bobolink(less) meadow yet un-scorched where we saw loosie mockury riding a golf cart, her crazed face squinched magoo-myopically, perhaps smiling. we saw a coyote running away from the fire and smoke of the burning island. the coyote had a wild and frightened look and melted through the chain-link fence into the fortunately closed driving range. she might have been killed by sport projectiles. i said to john, there are more trees marked for death with pink spray paint. i think the war on invasive species is a forever war, like the wars on dark skinned people, invaders on land that claimed by alrighty then might when they elitely expansively desire the space. they thought they lived there, the denizens. they'll have to think again, someplace else. citizens, gentrizens, moving in. there are invaders everywhere, including me, who spits on the beam of the poison levy. i think they will change the name, once all the invasive species are killed, cut down, burned out or run terror stricken out of space, including me, from jackson to obomba park, no, it will be obombaland, at least in his head, it sounds more exotic, like his own country, though the private fundation will claim it to be of the people by the people for the people, publicly. it will be a land of great lawn with a massive white erection presiding, a grand dominion, gift of the people, the wildlife, monument to the man cum lately.
