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jamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaicajamaica i miss you :(

Australia, Jamaica, England, Italy, and France.

Maurice Smith argues in favor of increasing the length of time students in Jamaica spend in school. It's an issue I've been thinking about for some time now. Given the low quality output from the system and the fact that the school plant is unoccupied for a full two months, while teachers still get paid, why not make use of the chance to help kids learn some more?

I miss this place :/

Paint does dry so nothing sticks.
But memories are driven into its
Colours. To see walls torn down and fixed,
Floors ripped up to restore; but lives
Stay to haunt the place. A soul
May remain forever till Dooms Day
And live on thus formed.
Dust on carpentry danced a waltz
With small currents of wind.
Memories can’t be so removed.
They live in Space Time.

At a time when many a Jamaican is concerned about the death of traditional art forms, the Braata Folk Singers reminded us that we can relax, as that will not be happening anytime soon.  The New York based group presented ‘Wheel an Come Again’, which could not have been a more appropriate name for only their second concert season.  The twelve member group delivered folk song after folk song with such poise and passion that it is obvious why they got their name, as they left the audience wanting more…Jus a lickle braata.

Led by the talented Andrew Clarke, who performed as a chorus member, the group walked us through classics such as “Liza”, “Sammy Dead”, “Banyan Tree” and “Love is a funny likkle ting”.  Songs such as “Betta Woman Dan Yu” and “Why Woman Grumble” had the audience in laughter. 

Andrew Clarke (Director), getting into the spirit.

The stage was cleverly designed to incorporate many typical elements of Jamaican culture, such as the coal stove with the dutch pot on it, the coconut stand, and various simulations of market stalls.  The use of colour was adequate and the costuming very appropriate.

The twelve singers delivered a balanced sound, and neatly executed the choreography with great expression.  Outside of a few missed entries, the blend of voices was exceptional.  Soprano, Dianne Dixon, seemed to have the crowd in the palm of her hand with every antic and expression she shared.  Andrew Clarke featured many times with his clean tenor voice.  This was supported by an ensemble cast of church goers, and shoppers in the market, not to mention the cute Matthews sisters, Courtnae and Joelle.

The singers could not have done so well without the support of the amazing and competent band, comprising of keyboardist, Garnet Mowatt (who contributed to some of the arrangements created by Andrew Clarke), Matthew Silpot (Keyboard), Marcus Williams (Percussion), Palomin Hassad (Percussion) and the legendary, Carrot Jarrett (Percussion).

Overall I give the Braata Folk Singers an ‘A’ for a concert well done.  I definitely got my money’s worth, not to mention the complimentary food provided in the intermission, and the souvenir program provided on entry to the theatre.  I would encourage you to support this talented group as they move forward, ensuring the maintenance of our heritage in the New York/Tri-state area, and I’m certain soon to the rest of the world.  The group also has CDs and t-shirts available at a minimal cost.  Mi definitely waan braata of the Braata Folk Singers.

Find Braata Folk Singers on Facebook (Like their page): http://www.facebook.com/pages/Braata-Folk-Singers/220816651267952

Photos Courtesy of Wide Vision Photography (marcia@widevisionphotography.com); Band photo by Mario Guthrie Photography (http://megphotos.tumblr.com)

one love.

Gyptian - Acoustic Session

A strange connection to the World
Feeling and seeing as you may not.
Among the dreams of the fallen
Do we all fall in to utter death.
Forged my dreams by night and
Dreamed in day. I’ve run out of dreams
Searching any where for something to
Look at in my mind and now
My death is my dreams and
My innocence is taken; I’m scared.
Famine from Light, abundance of
Black and words a-fire molded
My sanity to fluctuate
Between colours of all shades.
Painted masks at arms reach;
A traveler of Souls.

My 1st time at Glorias… the shrimp was WOW 

one love.

Feel the rhythm! Feel the rhyme! Get on up, its bobsled time!...

(Going to our place in Jamaica, there were a few little graves that were inset some trees. It was sad and inspiring at the same time. It was a common sight to see graves placed about.)

Three graves, side by side.
Lost in trees; known only by
Those who placed them there.

Birth date is the same,
As well as death dates; Each
Grave is two feet long.

A lone ship in the sea.
Sky high among ice berg clouds.
Navigating around the icy
Dangers that might harm us.
On the horizon, land blurs
Into the sky reaching as far
As infinity might dare.
But what happens in the land of Blur?

Do the monsters of the
night live there and
May leave only at night when
All the Earth is cast into Haze?
It is uncharted except by the
Souls lostin this sea, sky high.
Always just out of reach.
A destination unsure less you
Lose yourself in Haze and
Let the Monsters hold you.
Monsters can torment in these
Seas, Just the same.

Cabin rocking in
North-Western winds.
Souls of the sky making
Us rise and fall, lulling
A spell of sleep on passengers.
Poseidon allows passage.
Make berth on land for
Away, adventures await!

Under a red sky of curtains
Does the floor shift beneath feet.
Oblivious to danger do
Humans lives come and go.
Blissfully ignorant of worries
That infect the flux of the world.
Unable to part the sky when you
Cannot see light before you.
Voices mask colours of brilliance
With monotonous colours of gray.
Shapeless lives; blurring lines.
Open your eyes of you want to know
The world and care for it.
But get lost too far and
You will never be any help.

“Some things were meant to be so why not let them be

and stop worrying about it. As Long as we know what’s in our hearts, 

We know our inner thoughts,

 no reason for concern, no.

..if you know that love is deep within

Why should you worry what the folks will say?

When they see me with you..”

ocho rios 

Yendi Phillips

Break the egg… pour the yoke  in a plate. 

look what’s inside before 

you prepare it…

Before you trust someone try to find out what’s inside them.

Yendi is soooo pretty!

Feel the rhythm! Feel the rhyme! Get on up, its bobsled time! COOL RUNNINGS!