these words whispered into my dreams... with love.

"Si Tu Me Olvidas"
By Pablo Neruda

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe:
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en esa día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora,
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable,
si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos.


"If You Forget Me"
By Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists:
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Marvin Gaye ... a childhood memory.

the homie e's gift of music conjured up this childhood memory...

I was in first grade, and I usually walked to my sitter's house a few blocks, behind my school. But this day, Mrs. Velasco, my sitter, was waiting in the parking lot, and her mom was in the front seat. She said, I was on my way home and I thought I'd save you a walk. Mrs. Velasco was a sweet lady. Tall, Mexican American, mom of three grown boys, grandma to 2 at the time, knew everyone on the block, and babysat a whole bunch of us kids from the neighboring schools. I enjoyed when she made sun tea and baloney and cheese sandwiches.

It was always lively at her house. We played in the front lawn under a couple birch trees, and when it was hot we swam in the pool. She was my sitter for a couple years until my grandparents moved down and took care of us.

She and her husband Louie had a nickname for me - Trini, derived from my family nickname, and for Trini Lopez (although he's a guy). I thought that was pretty cool. Anyways, so she picked me up and I sat in the back, leaning my head on the breaststrap of the seatbelt. The window was open, and it was a warm, breezy day. Then they announced on the radio that Marvin Gaye had died over the weekend, shot by his father. Mrs. V and her mom gasped in disbelief. "Oh how sad, and it's birthday too?" Mrs. V's mom lamented. Mrs. V was pretty sad... she was a big fan of his music. She asked me if I knew who Marvin Gaye was, and I said no. She told me, he had one of the most beautiful voices she's ever heard.

At 7 years old, I didn't quite know Marvin's music, or rather that it was his. Heard It Through the Grapevine was on a California Raisins commercial. The melody of If This World Was Mine recurs throughout my childhood. As I grew up, as my social consciousness developed, as I fell in love, as I (still) try to figure out life, I've gotten to know his music. I didn't read much about his life until later.... in the end, what a tragedy. But left us with such beauty and soul. Thank you, Marvin.

Violence Against Women Must End! Stop Domestic Violence!

So there are not a lot of things that I speak out on, or rather, against. I must admit, that I've gotten a little soft, a little lazy over the years. I have a lot of friends who are very active and articulate - they talk the talk/walk the walk, and are so dope that they move others - and when agree with them I cede to their words, forward emails, attend events, support organizations, etc. In a sense, I guess you can say that I fall back on the adage that, "actions speak louder than words." And I figure, they say it just right, better than I would say it, so why do I need to?

Well, while that is all well and true, I do realize that I have to get off my ass, or rather, unbutton my lip more often, to join the voices that speak out against injustice. Because injustice and oppression are so immense that they need to be fought with everything we've got.

There are many forms of violence against women. Domestic violence in particular, has been making headline news.

So I was on my way to class this morning (I train in self-defense and martial arts under Guro Eleanor Academia at the Magda Institute). On the radio was Steve Harvey, talking to the Editor-in-Chief of Essence Magazine, discussing the Rihanna & Chris Brown situation. This has been headline news since the incident a month ago. Everytime I hear it or read about it, I just cringe. My heart breaks for her, for young women, for all women who have been beaten by their partner. What pisses me the hell off, are the responses of excuse - "well we don't know all the facts," "she hit him first, he could have crashed his lambo," or the jokes, which I care not to repeat. Because it's not a laughing fucking matter.

These are the thoughts that were also articulated by Steve Harvey and EIC Angela Burt-Murray. He went on to say, that if any man hit a woman he knew and he found out, that he will go out and whoop dude's ass, that dude would have nowhere to hide. Yes. Thank you.

Just before class began, my teacher thanked everyone for the well-wishes as she participated in an all-Filipina cast for the Vagina Monologues. She acknowledged International Women's Day, and the masses of women in Darfur who have been raped and killed, and women globally who suffer from violence. She brought it back to our class - she acknowledged our privilege as women here in the US, that our struggles may not be as extreme as in other countries, but that even as we train to protect ourselves and our loved ones, this is one way we contribute to stopping the violence against women.

While I train with my sisters, my mind is focused, clear. As I am walking back out into the real world, driving home, my teacher's words resonate, as do the voices on the radio. I think about the rest of my day, and how in a few hours I will be joining the women of Gabnet at their annual Political Fashion Show, where together we will continue to raise our voices and our fists to stop violence against women. I thought back to when I was a student employee at UCLA, when my co-worker, another Pinay, whispered to me in hushed tones as we put away books, how her live-in boyfriend had been hitting her. Her quiet plea to please don't tell, and how her mother and sister told her to get over it, that he's a good man and he may have just been mad. Oh and he worked with us too. I couldn't be friendly anymore. But I didn't tell him anything. Oh how I regret it now.

I thought about the organization Break The Cycle, where my homegirl works (shout out to Belle!). She asked me to help out for one of their fundraising events last month. I had a great time, meeting new people and having fun. However, there were these little moments as I walked through the venue, thinking, how many women I've known, strong, fashionable, beautiful... and very well could have been abused. It was a comfort to know that organizations like this exist. I was thankful to experience the words of poet Mayda del Valle, who wrote a piece about domestice violence. (Another time that I felt, see she said it perfectly!) At first she was concerned it would bring down the energy in the club, but it didn't. It reminded us what we were raising funds for that night. I hope you get to hear it one day, if you haven't already =)

I thought about my family members and friends, who have been assaulted and abused. Their faces, their smiles, their voices, their anger, their sadness, their beautiful hearts ... and their will to keep going. I thought about those that I don't know, in Darfur, in the Philippines, here in the US, and all over the world. I thought about what I learn in class and how I have no qualms hitting punching kicking or stabbing someone who has harmed a woman or a child. And I have no qualms about kicking that man in the groin because if you hit a woman, you have no balls anyways.

Physically speaking, women are generally smaller and our brute force tends to be weaker than men. Women, by nature, are non-violent beings, as we have the ability to carry life inside of us. To protect life, a woman must be protected, not attacked.

Sure, we mouth off sometimes, maybe a lot, and we get angry. A woman may even break your heart. Men, that may piss you off. But it is still no reason to lay your hands on her. On us. How would you feel if a man hit your daughter, your sister, your wife, your cousin, your friend, your mother? If someone inflicted pain on someone that you love?

For men who do this - please stop. It's ok to go to counseling to figure out why you do this. It's not impossible to end this behavior. There are therapists and other resources out there to help. It may be difficult but letting go of the anger or whatever else makes you so this, but when you do, you open yourself to a better life. To peace.

Women, my sisters. From the ones I know, to all worldwide. Please don't stay silent if a man hurts you. Don't STAY AT ALL. Speak out. You are not alone, even if it might feel like it. Fuck the judgments and all the other bullshit. Speak out for yourself. Love does not hurt. We are here for you. There are resources out there.

Love does not hurt.

END VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN. NOW.

***

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE(7233) or TTY 1-800-787-3224
Break the Cycle: http://breakthecycle.org/
http://www.ncadv.org/protectyourself/GettingHelp_128.html

This Thursday! Come Through!!!

Please come through this Thursday to IMIX BOOKS in Eagle Rock. And come early, space is limited! See you at the entrance (I'm the bouncer. hehe)





BAMBU, DJ PHATRICK, and IMIX BOOKS present:

OFF THE BOOKS

First Thursdays Open Mic @ IMIX Books
with monthly feature artists

8pm-10pm, Doors 7pm
$5-$10 donation.

YOUTH FREE!

IMIX BOOKS
5052 Eagle Rock Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90041

OPEN MIC SIGN-UP:
imixopenmic@gmail. com

NEXT OPEN MIC:
Thursday, March 5, 2009!

DUAL RECORD RELEASE PARTY!

SCARUB & VERY (AFRO CLASSICS)



celebrating the release of THE CLASSIC EP


and

ELIGH & JO WILKINSON (Mother & Son)



celebrating the release of ON SACRED GROUND


with

THE BASH BROS.



RSVP ON FACEBOOK!

Weekend Wrap-Ups and Reflections...a film review and my typical randomness

...What a weekend! So lovely I had to just blog about it =)

...Not to mention, it's been on my to-do list forever, to blog more regularly. However with guilty pleasures like Twitter and facebook, it seems like such a task to write more than 140 characters sometimes...haha. But aside from my ultra-private journal entries that go in a journal made of paper, and written with a pen (how archaic, huh?!), I must keep writing! Helps the memory. ...aaaanyways....

Last Friday morning, I was done with the week - had a good, rigorous 4-5 days, and my body was ready to sleep. I looked at my weekend schedule and winced slightly - no sleeping in on Saturday OR Sunday. (sigh).... so I stayed in and slept on Friday (sorry Bam, obviously didn't make it out to Dena)

Saturday at 9am - started with my usual workout with the ladies, which nicely set off my energetic weekend. The traffic-ridden drive on the 101, 110, 105, and 5 let me coordinate my artist's itinerary for the day, catch up with my brother in SF, receive direction from my mom in Alhambra, coordinate with the homegirls for the evening's events, and catch up a little with the homies from Seattle.

By the late afternoon, I'm at the Aratani Japan American Theatre in Little Tokyo, for the premiere of my my friend Tad's film, "A Song for Ourselves." Bam's performing with Kiwi, opening up the show, so I'm doing the manager thing. Our team member Jana Lynne, who usually handles our merch, is handling her own big event at UCI, so I'm out there selling some shirts and CDs. Walking through the backstage brought back fond memories of when we, the Women of the Balagtasan Collective opened for Chicago spoken word group I Was Born With Two Tongues back on 2003.

Out in the front of the house, it was exciting to see everyone who came out - of course, all the homies, some of whom I haven't seen in months; not to mention quite a few Asian American heavyweights - activists, academics, artists (or all three embodied in one!)...Jollene and I watched folks pass, saying, "wow, I read your textbook in college..." so needless to say, I was pretty geeked. There isn't much in the press, or in prominent collective memory of mainstream America, about progressive people of color, much less Asian Americans. So to see these people, our communities together, is an inspiring and constant reminder that the struggle against injustice continues, and we still need to continue to fight, and to build.

So Tad's film. Oh gosh what can I say. Well, I met Tad when he entered UCLA in 1999 or 2000. I was finishing up my coursework, and we were all part of the same crew, bound together by being students of color with progressive beliefs and values, most easily recognized as a coalition called "Students First!" or, "Praxis." What I remember about Tad, was that even in challenging times within the coalition, he always reminded us that we need to work together, that we cannot let "other" forces keep us from forwarding the movement of which we are a part. Now for some of us who were, at the time, a little older, a little jaded, a little tired... it was either music to our ears, or naivete, depending on our mood :)

So I knew Tad as my college buddy, and only later did I find out his cool lineage :), when I watched his first film, Yellow Brotherhood. And then of course I saw Pilgrimage, and I remember thinking as I watched, Tad's message is always the same - we are all connected through our struggles, and we must continue to forward the movement from those that came before us.

A Song for Ourselves. Wow. Again, he weaves the personal with the political, as he did in YB. In doing community work - or hell, just working period - sometimes a person can get so involved with their work, that one can become disconnected with our own humanity. In introducing the story of Chris Iijima to us, it was a beautiful reminder, that as people who identify as "activist," or "political," or "progressive," who constantly struggle with our beliefs versus the reality and practical application of those beliefs, that there is no ... exact discourse; no exact roadmap, to accomplishing that "greater goal" of justice and self-determination. "...you can be 'political' and a human being. You can make your life a 'normal' life, and take your politics with you... it's possible."

All of our principled actions contribute to that greater goal, of which the motivator, the moving force, is love. Love was prevalent in this film - love within the movement, the community, friendship, family and even romantic love. (geez, maybe that's why I cried through most of it! haha) On commenting about their partnership, Chris told hiw wife Jane that in his 20s he would not have dated a white woman (something that will always be taboo in ethnic communities). What they have - it was just, love. That's all. No boundaries, just love. It didn't detract from his life, or his work. Jane noted that it was the community's power that carried their family though Chris's sickness. And of course it tugged at my LA heartstrings when he said, he found community in Los Angeles =).

The performances, of course, were amazing. The Native Guns performed - a special request from Tad. It was nice to hear folks still remember the call-and-response. It conjured up memories of when I worked with the group, and that time of my life. It was an honor to get to hear Nobuko and Charlie Chin (very witty guy!). They had a stool there too, I take it, that was for Chris. I didn't get to watch the Blue Scholars, but the sound of the bass and Geo's signature baritone reverberated past the walls well enough :)

The homegirl Krish and I finally got to experience Kogi BBQ tacos together. How nice was Bam to watch the merch table while she and I elbowed our way to the top of the line.

So that was Saturday. Haha.

Sunday was lovely and peaceful. It was a beautiful, sunshine day. Waking hours were spent nursing my sweetie and his 101 degree fever. :( Stocked up the fridge with his favorite water, gatorade, and chicken soup. Wrapped him up in blankets, and as he slept, I was off to the West Valley with my roommate to do some girly wedding prep stuff, as well as some light shopping. I took note of some lovely stilettos, that I will return to after the March bills are paid.

Next up was my goddaughter Kaya's birthday party. It's always happy love to see Malcolm and Kaya... to hear Malcolm scream "Auntie Kat!" upon seeing me through the net of the moonbounce - music to my ears.

After stuffing myself with Vallarta marinated chicken and carne asada topped with sweet onions, cilantro and a dollop of salsa.... I gave my kumadre Vanessa aka SuperMom a hug and a kiss, and was back on the 101 south. Just wound down the day and the weekend as the sun set... thankful for fevers that broke, for friends, for music, for children, for sunshine.

...Have a great week!