Neat hot green Mississippi fields
Planted and plowed by the spirits of my heart
Backs bent to their labor
No longer are they flesh and form
Yet they are tangible to me
They brought the green sea to life
Remanded here as part of the peculiar institution
In this, the land of the almost free
Year upon year their generations could not wander
They had lost the meaning of that word
Remembrance of their language meant death
Some how those sweat soaked bodies knew they must survive
The green sea sprouts from a thick fluid vascular bed of memories
A field wet with the technology of today as it silently irrigates
The bones of the ancestors as they sink deeper into the depth of the green sea
They lay in a scarred battlefield with no markers or flags of remembrance
Nothing to shout their names no pictures of their faces
Here in this Mississippi field they rest
Chosen to be there as I am chosen to be here
The green sea parts to expose them for an instant
They need to see what profound change their lives inspired
They can walk unafraid and have their say in the front room of the big house
Children….we have realized our dream
We speak and now they listen
Like lions we roar
We read
We write
We laugh loudly and love without fear
They marked us down as one third of a human being
Branded and numbered
Look at us now sweet spirits
Rise up and look at your children
It is our voice chosen to lead the realignment of mankind
Open your eyes once again with pride and fulfillment at your strength
From the lands of our ancestors we have arrived to part the green sea
Look at who we are now
We have changed everything
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Farm Report
It has been a slow week on the farm. Workers have been lazy lima beans all week!
Even though we were not shopping and cooking and having tons of company we have all enjoyed our holidays immensely. We are comfortable with the way things are going and are looking forward to our new President being inaugurated on January 20th, so we hope that you will enjoy our interpretation of why the workers on the foot farm and the rest of world is so excited about the the 44th resident of the White House!
Even though we were not shopping and cooking and having tons of company we have all enjoyed our holidays immensely. We are comfortable with the way things are going and are looking forward to our new President being inaugurated on January 20th, so we hope that you will enjoy our interpretation of why the workers on the foot farm and the rest of world is so excited about the the 44th resident of the White House!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
FARM REPORT
We here on the foot farm have been able to expand operations to new and ever greater levels. One of our first new visitors flew in from LA just to see us. She was quite special and carried a cell phone covered in clear Swavorski Crystals with her initials in pink. So very LA don’t you think? Our discussions this week were very much about cultural differences in families. Intermarriage between distinctly different cultures is becoming more popular. In the past we have been aware of love and marriage in this country between African-Americans and Whites, but let us consider Americans and Colombians, Muslims and Christians, Indians and Pakistanis. The differences are immense and become relevant when considering raising children and dealing with family members. Something as simple as asking “what’s for dinner?”, can become a source of tension.
Holidays and birthdays may be celebrated in different ways. Love becomes complex when it crosses some sort of line. In our opinion love is something we need to have in order to breath. No matter what the difficulties may be in realizing that love. To be held, to be kissed, and to be touched by another person who makes one feel complete; that is necessary. One of our most loyal visitors has always said…. it’s your time on earth…
So not matter where you find love, embrace it. Happy Holidays…..our color is Rudolph’s Red Nose.
Holidays and birthdays may be celebrated in different ways. Love becomes complex when it crosses some sort of line. In our opinion love is something we need to have in order to breath. No matter what the difficulties may be in realizing that love. To be held, to be kissed, and to be touched by another person who makes one feel complete; that is necessary. One of our most loyal visitors has always said…. it’s your time on earth…
So not matter where you find love, embrace it. Happy Holidays…..our color is Rudolph’s Red Nose.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
FARM REPORT
This intriguing tale was told by a visitor from Vibe Magazine; a commentary on the music industry. Remember when every city had at least one legendary record store? In New York City, Colony and Tower Records were places artists stopped and fans hung out. Music was touchable and collectable. Even CD’s didn’t really put a damper on the fact that we collected our favorite music. Now the industry is almost unrecognizable; every thing is downloadable.
Musical genres have a muddy line through them. Distinctions between Jazz, R&B,Pop and Hip hop have faded in the downpour of economics. Can magazines like Vibe survive to cover Hip Hop when the NY times is doing it mainstream? As our visitor from Vibe magazine said…Thank God for Lil Wayne or we would have really gone under…
Artists are utilizing the internet to exist in venues where they have freedom to write, post, and perform the art of their lives. They welcome thier fans downloading thier creations.
Gangster rappers are now called moguls. They have clothing lines, labels of high end brandy, and reality shows on how to be good parents. We farmworkers are certainly not haters, it’s the American dream come true.
We wait patiently for the newness of artists still developing a craft through experience and practice. Those who are “in the shed” as we write this, not standing in line for a national talent contest, but learning to read music, play music, and write actual words; practicing and living thier art.
The color …..I Said Red
Musical genres have a muddy line through them. Distinctions between Jazz, R&B,Pop and Hip hop have faded in the downpour of economics. Can magazines like Vibe survive to cover Hip Hop when the NY times is doing it mainstream? As our visitor from Vibe magazine said…Thank God for Lil Wayne or we would have really gone under…
Artists are utilizing the internet to exist in venues where they have freedom to write, post, and perform the art of their lives. They welcome thier fans downloading thier creations.
Gangster rappers are now called moguls. They have clothing lines, labels of high end brandy, and reality shows on how to be good parents. We farmworkers are certainly not haters, it’s the American dream come true.
We wait patiently for the newness of artists still developing a craft through experience and practice. Those who are “in the shed” as we write this, not standing in line for a national talent contest, but learning to read music, play music, and write actual words; practicing and living thier art.
The color …..I Said Red
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Rudi
This was written for a dear and close friend...
You were my half in life
Kept my most secret secrets
Not ever questioning or judging
If decisions were wrong you never told me
You went along happily with each one
Moving from city to town
Smiling at each new curve in the road
Others spoke harshly about our nomadic existence
You just asked for more chicken
People drifted in and out of my life
As my friend you were always there
Miles I could drive and never a complaint
You just enjoyed the peace of my company
From the time that you were young and spry
From the time you could run like the wind
You would look back at me with eyes that sparkled
Listening for me to call your name
My half in life was you my friend
Sleeping with me through every nightmare
Comforting me when it was done
Transitory is the order of this existence
Our own unique time here
Bridges to cross and miles to tread
To have shared it with you was my luck
To have known you was my honor
My half in life, my friend, there will never be another
You were my half in life
Kept my most secret secrets
Not ever questioning or judging
If decisions were wrong you never told me
You went along happily with each one
Moving from city to town
Smiling at each new curve in the road
Others spoke harshly about our nomadic existence
You just asked for more chicken
People drifted in and out of my life
As my friend you were always there
Miles I could drive and never a complaint
You just enjoyed the peace of my company
From the time that you were young and spry
From the time you could run like the wind
You would look back at me with eyes that sparkled
Listening for me to call your name
My half in life was you my friend
Sleeping with me through every nightmare
Comforting me when it was done
Transitory is the order of this existence
Our own unique time here
Bridges to cross and miles to tread
To have shared it with you was my luck
To have known you was my honor
My half in life, my friend, there will never be another
FARM REPORT
Workers were amazed at the range of tales collected this week. Many were told, but few were chosen to make the report.
The "beautiful rebellious banker". Talked down from the ledge by friends after she threatened to tell her bosses exactly what she thought of them. Not the best idea given the wretched economy; she decided on a afternoon at the foot farm instead. A great choice. We scrubbed, rubbed and wrapped with warm towels. Wearing Caviar Dreams or A Big F U to your boss on her fingers and toes she told them sweetly what she actually thought of them and still kept her job.
The "south carolina peaches". These delicate beauties were agonizing over the need to move operations to New York. Shocked at the fact that nine thousand dollars a month would only get them a pied a terre the size of their current closet and no room for the three furry children. Sadly they realized they will have to buy an all black wardrobe and put their lovely pink sundresses in storage. We painted them National Velvet.
World renowned artist J.Leone came by to soothe a toe injured when she made the choice to sacrifice it to save a piece of art. Were we impressed...? you betcha! She regaled us with stories of trips to the rain forest and detailed descriptions of her latest art project. We were fascinated by the photography process, invented by the eclectic artist,to capture the beauty of Piazza San Marco in Venice and we all want to touch that paper that she swears is better than sex! Yikes! Oh yes...the color..Linkin Park after Dark.
Our favorite visitor this week was without a doubt the quietly intelligent graphic artist who was playing parlor games for the evening. She will be riding her bike to the inauguration and flashing Russian Sable on her toes.
The "beautiful rebellious banker". Talked down from the ledge by friends after she threatened to tell her bosses exactly what she thought of them. Not the best idea given the wretched economy; she decided on a afternoon at the foot farm instead. A great choice. We scrubbed, rubbed and wrapped with warm towels. Wearing Caviar Dreams or A Big F U to your boss on her fingers and toes she told them sweetly what she actually thought of them and still kept her job.
The "south carolina peaches". These delicate beauties were agonizing over the need to move operations to New York. Shocked at the fact that nine thousand dollars a month would only get them a pied a terre the size of their current closet and no room for the three furry children. Sadly they realized they will have to buy an all black wardrobe and put their lovely pink sundresses in storage. We painted them National Velvet.
World renowned artist J.Leone came by to soothe a toe injured when she made the choice to sacrifice it to save a piece of art. Were we impressed...? you betcha! She regaled us with stories of trips to the rain forest and detailed descriptions of her latest art project. We were fascinated by the photography process, invented by the eclectic artist,to capture the beauty of Piazza San Marco in Venice and we all want to touch that paper that she swears is better than sex! Yikes! Oh yes...the color..Linkin Park after Dark.
Our favorite visitor this week was without a doubt the quietly intelligent graphic artist who was playing parlor games for the evening. She will be riding her bike to the inauguration and flashing Russian Sable on her toes.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
FARM REPORT
It has been a trying week down on the farm. Workers have been sick, and there was a dry spell of new visitors. It seems that the wretched economy has infected our fields as well. Toes are curling up before our very eyes. Maybe our new first lady will go on national TV and tell everyone that she cannot do without her biweekly visit to the foot farm. This would definitely give us an infusion of new feet to service. We would be happy to name a new color in her honor.
Our workers usually have lunch sent in on the weekend and this turned the discussion to food choices. Pizza has been a favorite of the workers for some time, we have discovered that topping a slice of cheese pizza with salad and wrapping it up is the next best thing to heaven. Speaking of food choices what is up with lunch carts on the street serving heaping helpings of mystery meat for consumption? As you can see we were bored out of our minds this week.
Our workers usually have lunch sent in on the weekend and this turned the discussion to food choices. Pizza has been a favorite of the workers for some time, we have discovered that topping a slice of cheese pizza with salad and wrapping it up is the next best thing to heaven. Speaking of food choices what is up with lunch carts on the street serving heaping helpings of mystery meat for consumption? As you can see we were bored out of our minds this week.
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