Heritage Day

Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

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Circles Of Meaning, Labyrinths of Fear – A Review

‘The twenty two relationships of a spiritual life and culture – and why they need protection’

Yet another from Moon Books’gems!

This wasn’t an easy book to put down, yet it was necessary to do that from time to time in order to get the full message of it!

We all know that there are certain ways of different cultures and religions, including sacred rights, days of celebration, and fewer know that even some day to day routines are also rooted in the sacred.

This concise eye-opener could not have come at a better time, for our generation is possibly among the most fearful the universe will ever experience!

The pages and messages and lessons are honestly comforting for a time when the silence is scarce and the noise is utterly scary.

‘The Good Life’ as Mr. Brendan Myers describes it, becomes less of an abstract, almost unreachable idea and simplifies it in ways that once read cannot be forgotten.

Learning the relationships between yourself and the landscape, the neighborhood, animals, doctors… to name a few; is the lightest, most pleasant melody of an alarm that wakes you to discover that you have just begun experiencing life at its true pace and meaning for the very first time.

A must read for the truth seeking soul.

Circles of Meaning, Labyrinths of Fear – For those of you more curious here’s the link that will help get hold of this one.

Love and Light!

Canis Lupus

Lullaby! (To Dad)

Dear dad!
I miss you.

It’s been a while and I know it’s my fault mainly
I really should write to you more often
You speak to me in a way that no one else knows
Like the chirping of the bird outside my window while my stone heart begins to waken
And it is pain at first
And hopelessness
But then a spark of life happens in my wolfy veins
That is barely noticeable enough at first
Then day after day you whisper breezes of wind in return of the scorching memories and fears…

Years have passed since I truly felt like a weaver of words;
I knew I died then
Perhaps with you – is it beautiful to finally be a part of everything again?
Do you miss her?
Whoever she was…
I think your love for her inspired me so that I could not help but fall in love with that planet; a woman!
The galaxies of female curves I have seen
Left me broken dead and empty.

I am much better now though
I’m learning to forgive
To let go of the things I cannot change
I think I’m learning how to live.

Are you proud of me?
I still feel like your little girl.
I have written so much just tonight only to avoid telling you for the first and only time : I am hurt

Hurt but still breathing
Crippled but healing
With every cell in me that yearns to be
Someone worthy

Tomorrow I will continue my quest and I will fail a little less at disproving the impossible
And fail a little less again the following day
Until impossible is nothing

Because I think not even you believed in what you chased
Not even you could dream that big
Oh but you insisted that I learn
And so I did

I dream a little less these days
I focus on success
Not in material value though I’m sorry; I’m quite alright with just being me
But I succeed a little more each day
I manage to keep me complete.

I have started learning how to be brave
And yes
Yes dad, she’s teaching me.

That nothing is ever really worth it unless it hurts a little at least!

A Story of A Blue Sun

Just a poem written for someone 🙂 very late one evening!

Blue-Sun-web

Yellow
They said was what made the world red
And red being the color of love… meant that everything yellow
was good for a smile and a dance
But his color was blue
So he thought it true
When the world would tell him he couldn’t

One evening he slowly
headed for home after a long day of shining blue light on the world
he though to himself a miserable thought
that all was lost at bright yellow’s high cost
and about love he completely forgot
With his sad face on his chest
and a torn heart at his breast
he continued to walk on home

Until one day while shinning sadly on us
a stranger figure appeared before him
and she seemed to like his blue light
she told him that one day blue would take yellow away

His heart trembled gently
with wild butterflies in his sight
when she looked at his blue with her eyes
and such a surprise for the color of those eyes were so
shining
and loving
and blue

so since that day
when any man says that yellow is the color of a true sun
he smiles broad and brightly
and holds his love tightly
and he says’
“So?
blue is the color of love”

For K.

Glorious Mistakes

My Dad was an awesome man. He was soft and understanding, but when it came to certain things he could be the military style parent. There were many speeches, I remember each of them and they have shaped the person I am today.

Not long ago I was asked to sell myself to someone and I didn’t know how… I had no idea of what my selling points were. The past while I went into hibernation, just to catch a breath and refrain from losing my mind completely – it was during this time that I thought about what it was that actually kept me from being able to step back, look at myself objectively and say, “this is what I am good at…”

I have spent a mere 22 years in the vortex of the living dead. Not presuming to know much more than the average 22-year-old female, my experience has taught me that people don’t really care about other people’s problems unless they are either family or really close friends. This is where this page fits into the scheme of things. As humans we will have our ups, our downs and perhaps our moments of stillness… But at the end of it all; we seek to find the happy ending to every sad story so that we may be able to hold on tightly, with hopefully and extra fill of faith.

I would like to share a story with you today. A story that is personal but worth hearing methinks…

To remove conflict of understanding… I have not always been dating women… And although this story takes place years after my coming out… I am still me… perhaps just a little dusted off and polished…anyhow;

The CBD of Pretoria (SA) was home to the greatest alternative club in Southern Africa. ‘Zeplin’s’ was a two-story building with 8 bars and 5 dance floors all within the genres and sub-genres of the alternative and goth scene. Just before my 18th birthday I was lucky enough to start working there. It was a dream come true. The neon paintings, the grandeur and old architecture, the friendly smiles and almost completely victorian sense of fashion along with the music that spoke in a thousand different ways to my soul – they all contributed to the home that Zeplin’s was and still is as I reminisce…

My Dad walked with me to my first day of work at Zeplin’s so that he could meet the people who would be in charge of me and to decide whether or not he really was going to let me work there . Now keep in mind that not many a parent will smile broadly upon walking in to a double story place filled with extravagant Goths and black walls.

All in all however; being as awesome as he was – my dad looked past the stretchers, piercings and tattoos… He ignored the heavy make-up and the black clothes, he walked me out and said that he believes this will be more than a home for me. I was proud then… I was proud of him and I was proud of me for being from him.

A week later I had moved up from bar-tending the quietest bar in the entire place which at that point was the ‘inferno’ bar to one of the 3 main bars… My first shift on the bar was scheduled for – Halloween 2008…

1 800 Goths later…

… To be continued

Nil Sa Saol

24/01/12 20:24

 Dear diary

‘I saw the gap again today, while you were begging me to stay….take care not to make me enter because if I do, we both may disappear’

There is no love in fear

My biggest fear is fear itself. Anger is not only an emotion but an anchor; an ointment to still the throbbing of our wounds. This tourniquet absorbs fear like a supplement and thus it grows and rules leaving no space for reason or compassion, yet it is passionate and loving.

We’ve fought many battles… It is a struggle as the self breathes down my neck hoping that I may slip up and give her gap to surface again. I can never merge with that self if I am to fulfill my curious purpose.

15/07/1994

Dear Diary

‘I will choke until I swallow… choke this infant here before me. What is this but my reflection? Who am I to judge or strike you down?’

There is no love in fear

There is no escaping the monsters although I’m not entirely sure that they are real. Toys are extras in this thriller of incapability. Strawberry is my doll; I hold her face right next to my own then turn to look into my mother’s mirror. Strawberry’s face is vibrant and bright next to my own dull reflection. Through the mirror I see how small I am compared to the vast space filled with scattered furniture… it’s been so long and she still hasn’t called, my own mother doesn’t want me. I smothered her with all my love so she left, to teach me a lesson, so that I may know anger and resentment.

It distorts; the face that used to smile is dark, my eyebrows clamp together and a tear rolls down my cheek. This chest starts throbbing and my throat is tight and lumpy, mimicking my fantasy as I seek the strength to choke this reflection to death. I know anger so where is she?

In my mind I smell her perfume; she reaches out, touches my face and the anger subsides.

She may be gone but I am hers and therefore I must take care of this girl and overcome the longing to hate, judge and hurt her petite infant.

But you’re pushing and shoving me.

You still love me, and you push it on me.’

“Gin!”

No! It can’t be.

This was it?

“Gin, honey? Mommy’s home!”

I am stumped and my throat tightens some more. In a split second the self takes over with an emotionless expression.

“Aww sweetie! Come here, mommy’s home now and she isn’t going anywhere.”

Most little minds would be thrilled, happy, crying. I want her to get away, to stop touching and smothering me, I have so many questions…

“Say something baby, come on… mommy’s missed you she loves you so much. Hug me now will you?”

She clutches onto my clothes and pulls me, she pushes me.

(At that instant I knew; I knew what fake smiles looked like… I knew how to lie!)

“It’s ok mommy!”

The anger burns through my veins as I slowly get closer to her with a hug.

“That’s ok mommy, I love you too!”

11/04/2009

Dear Diary

‘Rest your trigger on my finger

Bang my head upon the fault line.

Take care not to make me enter,

‘Cause if I do, we both may disappear.’

There is no love in fear

Memories are the music videos of our past, only the instrument that triggers them is not a remote, no one hears your mind slipping way back as the faint smell of humidity fused with medicine kills your perception of time. It thrusts you right back into the arms of that dark, daunting space of yourself as your half grown hands shove at your Dad’s lifeless body for the last time; the smell takes me right back to when I stood there not even wanting to hold her back… I needed her darkness and anger; I needed not to feel pain. It was an easy goodbye, no tears… only that invisible rope around my throat. I don’t remember the last time I told him that I love him, but he knows now…I really hope he does.

‘Slipping back into the gap again, I’m alive when you’re touching me…

Alive when you’re shoving me down.’

My pillar faded with the sunset today, he lay as obedient as I had ever seen him in the ambulance as they drove off. The night brought with it the comfort of the arms I had longed for. I look for anger, I turn my heart inside out to try and bring it out, but her hands soothe and nurture, and for this moment she loves me again. I can’t breathe as she suffocates me with the arms of peace and the breath of mist, she responds to my body and I am willing to gasp just like this for as long as I live.

‘But I’d trade it all for just a little bit of peace of mind’

Hers are the eyes I look into as I force my own to open up. Our love remains nothing but a stolen moment as she sits up and calls me ‘friend’. There will be no peace now in my mind or in my heart so the two of me rise and walk away.

26/02/2011

Dear Diary

‘Put me somewhere I don’t want to be;

Seeing someplace I don’t want to see;

Never want to see that place again…’

There is no love in fear

There are shadows along the wall and they seem almost synchronized. I recognize them and I move along knowing that one of them is mine. I close my eyes and I go back into the forest where the ‘Jedi’ mind pulls me out from the tombs of ‘Krom’*. My body feels pleasure while my spirit cries and I am afraid to stay in the forest, afraid to taint the purity I found. Self registers spirit and recognizes the undeniable bond between fog, magic, love and fear. Reality is hot, wet and dirty, oh but now I know… concrete, ancient truth.

‘If when; I say I may fade like a sigh if I stay, you minimize it anyway then; I must persuade you another way.’

A woman’s silence says much according to her circumstance. Shakespeare is resurrected through the movement of my lips while the self attempts to choke and kill contentment. I see the gap I have left and I know the war is inevitable just as I realize that this battle will be the last regardless of the outcome.

24/01/12 23:59

 Dear Diary

 

‘Staring down the hole again

Hands upon my back again

Survival is my only friend

Terrified of what may come’

There is no love in fear

Education is the artillery with a lifetime guarantee and language is the indestructible force barging bravely through borders, barriers and between cultures, enabling a leniency towards others and their spirituality or the lack thereof. The old self turns her back to me, and the new self synchronizes with the movements of the old. Fear is now a polka dot skirt around the two, walking hand in hand with certainty.

A rainbow is most prominent in the act of letting go, of coming to terms with one’s own heart which loves, hates and sins even in purity…until the colours mix to create our own shade of grey.

‘Just remember I will always love you; even as I tear your throat away, but it will end no other way’

 

Darkness is the product of light when light willingly goes back to sleep in order to heighten the appreciation for both in amongst all living things.

You must go where I cannot,
Pangur Ban, Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
Pangur Ban Pangur Ban,
Nil sa saol seo ach ceo,
Is ni bheimid beo,
ach seal beag gearr.
  – **

Life is mist. Life cannot be without a beating heart, yet mist cannot be without fear, just as a heart cannot beat without love.

 

*Krom – ref: Irish Myhology
 
** Aisling’s Song – http://thesecretofkells.wikia.com/wiki/Aisling’s_Song
 
Ref: Tool – Pushit (Salival 2000) lyrics

Cry The Beloved Children

Cry the beloved children

For cities built on sleep

For mirrored fears and crumbling forts

For rivers running deep

Cry the beloved children

For masters of the war

For clowns and jugglers and pilots

Standing not too still ashore

We cry each tear in reverence

In muted screams our eyes do beg

For gifts received by masculine elders

Our hints of fortune undying with the dead

Cry the beloved children

For leper ghosts of Christmas past

Cry until your souls dry out

Then humbly reconnect at last

Cry the beloved children

Lest we wake and at dawn do forget

That loving fathers slave for you

All until they bid adieu 

CRT Threatens Website

The following was posted on ‘ Kennet and Avon Boating Community Website ‘ on Tuesday September 18 2012 @ 3:46 .

Kindly note that the article is not my own, however I felt the need to share it.

Thank you!

CRT threaten our web site with libel

This web site’s Editor received a letter from CRT recently threatening to take court proceedings for libel against the web site because of statements made in articles revealing and commenting about BW/CRT’s relationship with hire boat holiday brokers Drifters Leisure Limited. CRT has also asked the editor to remove the articles, to make an undisclosed donation to the CRT as recompense, and to publish by way of apology information which is already in the public domain athttp://www.whatdotheyknow.com/request/shares_in_drifters_leisure_limit#incoming-305070 in its own response to a Freedom of Information request.

The Editor refutes the allegation made by CRT for the reason that the articles in question are based on evidence. Analysis and comment about the issues covered in the articles is in the public interest and in particular in the interests of boat dwellers without home moorings.

When big organisations try to silence their critics using threats to sue for libel they do not always get the outcome they want. We would remind CRT that it cost McDonalds around £10,000,000 to pursue a civil libel action against London Greenpeace activists Helen Steel and Dave Morris that was only partially successful. Eventually Steel and Morris were awarded £24,000 compensation in the European Court of Human Rights because they did not get a fair trial on the ground of inequality of arms. That is, they were low waged people with no resources to defend themselves against the action; legal aid is not available for defending a libel action, whereas McDonalds could afford to spend thousands of pounds each day to hire top lawyers.

The threat of court action was received shortly after CRT Chief Executive Robin Evans refused to withdraw derogatory statements about boaters without home moorings following a complaint made to CRT. There appears to be a double standard at work here.

Despite a request by the Editor for clarification of the exact words that are alleged to be defamatory, CRT has not responded. Here is the correspondence between CRT and the Editor:

21 August 2012

DEFAMATORY ARTICLES POSTED ON

http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk

We write regarding the following articles posted on the aforementioned website:
“CRT Head of Boating runs hire boat company” posted on 12 July 2012; “BW had shares in hire
boat company” posted on 19 July 2012 and “Discredited CRT Legal Director and Head of Boating
booted and shrunk” posted on 5 August 2012.

Canal & River Trust considers the unsubstantiated references to impropriety, allegations of
misconduct, bullying, harassment and discreditation in conjunction with the Canal & River Trust’s
directors and senior employees and their positions or office and the malicious unauthorised
mockery of the Trust’s logo published in the aforementioned articles to be calculated to disparage
Canal & River Trust and its directors and are therefore defamatory to Canal & River Trust within
the meaning of Section 2 of the Defamation Act 1952.

It is clear that you are either author, editor or publisher of the defamatory statements referred to through http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk reverting to http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk as
envisaged by Section 1 of the Defamation Act 1996 and therefore it was your responsibility to take
reasonable care that articles published by you do not contain defamatory statements and images.
Should you allow the publication of the statements to continue, Canal & River Trust will be left with no option but to consider civil proceedings against you.

Accordingly, we request that you cease publicly displaying the aforementioned articles on your
website or elsewhere without delay. We further request that you publish the attached text by way of
an apology and make an undisclosed charitable donation to the Trust as a way of making amends
in line with Section 2 of the Defamation Act 1996.

28 August 2012

I acknowledge receipt of your letter dated 21 August 2012 that you sent to
info@boatingcommunity.org.uk. I require you to provide detailed clarification of which specific words or statements in the articles you have referred to that you consider to be “references to impropriety, allegations of misconduct, bullying, harassment and discreditation in conjunction with the Canal & River Trust’s directors and senior employees and their positions or office”. Please specify in detail your arguments for asserting that these words or statements could be construed to be calculated to disparage CRT and its directors.

I would be grateful for your response within seven (7) days.

4 September 2012

Further to your email, I would be grateful if you first clarify whether you are an editor or operator of the website http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk. If so, please let me have your correspondence address together with an address of your solicitor (if any) and confirm whether your solicitor is entitled to accept service of legal documents.

If not, please let me have names of the website editor and the website provider together with their contact details. In the meanwhile, I note that the articles referred to in my email of 21 August 2012 continue to be published on the http://www.boatingcommunity.org.uk website. The website operator and/or editor was put on notice that Canal & River Trust considers the contents of those articles defamatory Accordingly, should this matter progress further, I reserve the right to bring this fact to the court’s attention.

4 September 2012

This is an open letter. I acknowledge receipt of your email of 4 September 2012. I have noted your comments. I am the Editor of http://kanda.boatingcommunity.org.uk (the “Web Site”) and the author of the articles and images that you refer to. The Web Site is not run on a commercial or for profit basis. For all other purposes I am the publisher of the Web Site in that I make the decisions regarding what is published and I perform the electronic publication.

I am not represented by a law firm. I am assisted by the National Bargee Travellers Association (the “NBTA”) and by XXXXXX as McKenzie Friends in this matter. I would be obliged if you would copy any further communication to legal@bargee-traveller.org.uk.
XXXXXX of the NBTA will respond to your enquiry to him in relation to the technical details of the web site.

I observe that you have failed to respond to my request for a clear specification of the specific words or statements that your client alleges are defamatory. Because of your continued interrogation of me, should you not proceed in issuing a claim in this matter, I shall make a complaint pursuant to s.2 Protection from Harassment Act 1997.

It is also material to this matter that, insofar as your client is required to disprove statements when making a claim alleging defamation, the NBTA has now provided evidence, verifying the maladministration on the part of your client, to the Waterways Ombudsman. The NBTA shall refer to additional evidence as appropriate.

I reserve my rights in all respects.

4 September 2012

Without Prejudice Save As To Costs

I write further to my first email of 4 September 2012. I note that the statutory functions of CRT (including the management of the waterways) remain a  public function. Therefore in relation to this public function, CRT remains bound by ECHR. I note that CRT has sought to curtail my fundamental freedom to impart information and ideas regarding the management of the waterways. It follows that your client has violated my Convention rights under Article 10 ECHR. I would be grateful if you would convey my request to your client that it ceases and desists in violating my Convention rights under Article 10 ECHR immediately.

I reserve my rights in all respects.

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Roads (Lull A Bye part 3)

It was if her question had taken me back in time to the place at midnight where I’d often wondered about how I’d deal with having to lose her.  Many a time I realized

that I would not deal with it; instead I’d continue on to a path of solitude.

It was the thought of losing her that made me want to snatch whatever bit of love I could before her summer ended with the arrival of her autumn. She had loved me as I had loved her through the years, but she hid as well as I hid therefore only half gratifying the soul and starving the flesh until that  moment when she repeated her question with an honest yearning and seriousness.

“Have you no care to kiss me?”

“I have no care to kiss you… For that kiss will make you mine for a moment after which I am to lose you for eternity.”

“I will not inflict that kind of pain on either of us. This burning will die in time; yours maybe sooner than mine – unless yearning stays with one even in the world beyond our own; in which case dear ghost I welcome your haunting me as I would a wedding day.”

The worlds seemed different as we paced back to where we came from and I could no longer focus on the beautiful sights provided by the genius loci. I saw only the emptiness of the days to follow. Upon entering the graveyard the sun had already set and the moon was shinning brighter than I’d ever seen her shine to my despair… as if mocking my silent grief with a smirk.

“I wish you’d teach the world to love!”

She used to say that the three worlds exist within each other, but that this world is the sweetest because it hurts to be alive. She used to say that pain is the core of love and without it we would not know how to feel, how to smile or be merry. She said that pain is what makes you want to dance in a world of hurtful circumstance. So I sang her a song of sleeping sensations and hopes for a heavy delight, in which our hands lead us back to each other and slowly we moved through the night. Her last breath was quick as for the rest I cannot quite recall… whether days or months had passed before I could think at all.

The moment, upon which my brain had returned I stepped bravely out into the night, I headed straight for the graveyard and danced until my heart was darkened by the coming of the light. My soul had chosen those many days ago when my heart was still beating in her chest and I understood for the first time the meaning of a dying girl’s request.

With the morning my journey began and I had left boldly without a crumb, without a scent of familiarity or comfort… I headed towards the big town.

Some expectations are met, others are not. We fall in and out of love so many times and it made me wonder; how am I teaching the world to love if I have not an ounce of love for myself? I don’t know much more than I knew back then, but I know one thing; loving someone half heartedly is worse than not loving at all.

The road I have chosen is filled with a love which is mine… but it will be a lonely walk. However I will always remember the little girls playing in the stillness of the night without a care in the world. I will remember the gates of that distant graveyard and I will know.

Soul mates never die.

When Things Go Pear Shaped

According to ‘Wikipedia’ the consumption of pears as a source of food and their growth in cool, constant climates extend as far back as prehistoric times. Although they predate, nourish, boost and inspire (some of us), one will seldom find an enthusiastic five year old blabbering on about how tasty pears are or that pears just so happen to be the favorite of all fruits. Strawberries, cherries, plums, nectarines, raspberries and oranges seem to dominate as leaders of the ‘favorite fruit’ and to top it all off we (the dominant species on the planet) have decided to curb the demand for pears even more by describing our unexpectedly awkward moments as having gone ‘pear shaped’.

In 1864 Mr. Wesley Vernier painted none other than ‘The Great Californian Pear’… story goes that this pear was loved, fussed over and cared for by a Mr. C. Hova of Los Angeles as it weighed a little over 4lbs; I often find myself staring into the computer screen at the sight of this painting for comfort but what moves me most is not the size or shape of this pear but rather her color:copper.

Now copper is closely related to two rather popular metals; silver and gold… While people prefer gold and silver due to their ornamental and decorative values and uses, this third metal in the eleventh group of the periodic table is also (like the pear) most ancient and useful… It is used in architecture, art and in some museums you may find archaeological artifacts made of copper. All this ties up with a one simple truth about our modern lives; what isn’t fashionable is readily discarded.

Pears are yummi and copper is pretty, but what is even prettier is seeing people who manage to detach from the fashionable and focus on what is genuinely good and the best place to see this happening is on a very new facebook group founded by two incredible individuals who took it upon themselves to begin a sort of ‘silent revolution’… here people get to share the goodness of their day to day experiences to inspire others to seek out the good rather than just focusing on how pear shaped their flawless plans for the future have turned out to be.

If you have just about had it with the queerness of your present circumstances then maybe it’s time to focus on the copper side of life, where ‘the good stuff’ flow freely, I on the other hand take it upon myself to help the copper lovers keep the good spirits even when pears seems awfully unappealing at times.

For those interested in the Copper Age please utilize this link:

http://www.facebook.com/groups/332513703488532/