Diana…

Diana Vreeland Bradley Theodore 2013

Diana Vreeland

Acrylic & Oil sticks

©2013  Bradley Theodore.

https://maddoxgallery.co.uk/artist/bradley-theodore/

https://www.instagram.com/bradleytheodore/?hl=en

http://www.bradleytheodore.com/

Love it.  Love him.  Let there ever be art!

______________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

 

Miles Ahead!

Miles Davis 2

___________________________________

Miles Davis

Davis III, Miles Dewey 26/5/26 <0> 28/9/91

_________________________________________________

I am so looking forward to the opening of Don Cheadle’s Miles Ahead this week.  i think of any other Jazz artist, Miles is the only one whose every album, on listening to it, I conclude is a favourite.  This creative genius just oozed authenticity.  Of course, a major part of his outréness and originality had to do with his having been an actual old soul.

I have always been partial to him as he was briefly married to Cicely Tyson who was a maternal first cousin of my late mother’s who in her youth did play the cornet.  Of course, Cicely Tyson, who is still going strong and currently starring on Broadway, is an entity mate of Miles Davis’.

My creatively gifted mother whose songs are published in the hymnal of the now Wesleyan Church was a remarkable woman who was pure intellect and a source of fierce pride.  She whose paternal grandparents were Sephardi from the small Brazilian community which settled in Nevis.   Indeed, she who is now reincarnated in London, England, male and first-born and about whom I have dreamt – East Indian/Caucasian heritage in this lifetime and currently aged 13 years old.

Sadly, none of my dream encounters with Miles Davis were ever audiocassette-recorded as they were never had during the decade when I did so – 1989 to 1998.  Each of those dream encounters did, though, validate his agedness of spirit and he seemed every bit an old soul during astral plane encounters.

In anticipation of this long overdue film – imagine that, the paucity of Jazz biopics when so clearly Jazz is rooted in Klezmer!  More than that, on to the matter of saluting a true original, a true creative genius and a giant of Black high art.

*Sadly, I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to track down the title of the Miles Davis painting herein featured; alas, to no avail have I managed to have discovered its title et al.

________________________________

Birth of the Cool, 1957.

Kind of Blue 1959.

– This is the music (Kind of Blue) I am mostly likely to listen to, after having audiocassette-recorded the dreams, on awaking from a flying dream.  This music is about finding centre whilst simultaneously remaining aloft in the realms of the flying dream.  As West Indians would say, it’s sweet!

Milestones, 1958.

______________________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

Blue Train – John Coltrane (full album)

John Coltrane2

As it is Jazz appreciation month, here’s to one of the most glorious elixirs that each time setting foot in my home – after experiencing racial animus in it myriad manifestations – takes me higher.  Jazz is that one language, indeed, the only idiom capable of absolving the bile of being subjected to the ugliness that is the racial predator’s birthright.

Of course, like all addicts: drunks, crackheads, sexual predators – the racial predator does not self-identify and, like all addicts, is ever in denial and will angrily maintain his right to deny that there is a problem.  So, since the racial predator does not exist; yet, for those of us for whom the racial predator is as real as the drunk, why wait for these marvellous boors to self-identify?  There is power in labelling a problem for what it is and until one has a name for a malaise of spirit, one has no power because the well-armed and socio-economic top-baboon will always laugh his vacuous skull off whilst alleging one is crazy for stating there is a problem when there is not even a name for this non-existent problematic entity and speciously imaginary the racial predator.

Naturally, the one addiction – without fail – of the racial predator is ever his obsession with the culture of the prey he so loves feasting on.  The most powerful word for the racial predator when dealing with Blacks is ‘NO’ in all its manifestations… and then, of course, you expect us to come home and settle for your apeing the culture because well… you can like that authentic-sounding sonic bleed-through from that queer parallel universe where Jazz allegedly has its roots in Klezmer… NO!  Life is about callously being unpromising in one’s truth… and as has been oft declared – if you can’t sing Strange Fruit sorry, not having it.

This music is a testament to the spirit of a people who, despite the racial predator’s obsessive addiction, remains free, beautiful and ever soaring higher…  Goodness, how could you ever fathom the depth and beauty of this music when you remain incapable of accepting and embracing our humanity…. your humanity?

John Coltrane’s Michael Overleaves to follow… breathe.

John Coltrane

_____________________________________________________________________________________

_____________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

#OscarsSoWhite!

By far, one of the funniest Academy Awards Opening monologues.  Leading up to last night’s awards, I was a bit apprehensive about how the whole race row would pan out.  I think that Chris Rock did a fantastic job and steered the entire controversy in the appropriate direction.

The beauty of the monologue in 1999 is how pure and wonderful it was.  So much has transpired since then and we are all a very different human race post 9/11, post Barack H. Obama’s presidency – racism has become since then so in-your-face and toxic… most of all, the problem of climate change is undeniably upon us.  So very good of Leonardo DiCaprio to have spoken so eloquently as he did.

Finally, regardless the diversity controversy in Hollywood and the facts being what they are, it matters little when this beautiful world is slowly becoming less viable for human civilisation…  Merrily we besottedly chug along like dopey lobsters denying that it is getting tepid under the collar.

Finally, Whoopi and her opening monologue got it right, it was the best #OscarsSoWhite! ever.

__________________________________________________________________________________

__________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020  Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

Beyoncé Slays!

Beyonce

Just as powerful as Michael Jackson releasing “Remember The Time” during Black History Month in 1992 so, too, Beyoncé slays by dropping Formation during Black History Month and on Bob Nesta Marley’s birthday no less.  Love it…  Love her!

Happy Black History Month!

____________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.

On The Sunny Side of The Street, It’s Black History Month!

Happy Black History Month!  Who cares about the Oscars?  The most important point of power in all situations is being able to see through to the structure of anything.  Those who cannot manipulate real time events to show themselves, chosen, entitled, special, ‘genius’ and all that nonsense will ever cheat, lie and steal.  Please do tell in in what other universe would there be a tie between Katherine Hepburn and Barbra Streisand for Best Actress but in this one where the most venal racists run the show and everyone looks like another variation on Jackie ‘blasted god-fugly’ Stallone.

Go on, give each other awards; what does it finally matter when you know nothing of being cool and sophisticated as in those whom you so revile, vilify, loathe, incite others to hate – all the while crying of being victimised.  You know… those marvellous people whose spirit you will  never crush, despite the attempts of Orly Taitz and the returned de Torquemada – now no less fugly got up in reincarnational drag – Jackson, Woods and Cosby and you just know that the swine has only just begun.  They, those marvellous people, who like dreams – wherein only truth and beauty exist – are the ones to have invented Jazz and whose spirit will never be eclipsed by your god-fugly ugliness.  Yes, them… they who don’t need awards to show how special, chosen and what marvellous geniuses one so over-compensatorily is not!

Alas, for the truly marvellous people every day of the year is awards season; despite your alarming ugliness, you have positively no power over any of us when we set feet into our homes.  There, despite your lunacy, we affirm our creaturehood, our beauty or phenomenalness and we turn on some Jazz which can speak to no one else as it speaks to every last one of us – not you!  So while you infest the culture, like some fetid mould – which thankfully are never lasting – just know that the ugliness of your lies can in no way invalidate the beauty of Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Betty Carter, Lena Horne, Anita Baker, Sarah Vaughan, Diana Ross, Natalie Cole… and countless others.

So go on and speciously raise your rear right leg and take to the airwaves claiming, “Jazz has its roots in Klezmer!”  Just remember this: forgiveness is the price a damn fool would gladly pay to forget anything.  Clearly, you do not know Black people and come November, we won’t collectively have taken leave of senses and do as you would wish… not after Orly…  Who cares about the Oscar vote?  Our vote is the one that truly matters…  Remember eight years ago… “I’m Voting For Her!”  We do not forget… where is that displaced haus frau anyway?  You know, the one who was partout on TV demanding that the unchosen sheeple, “Vote For Hillary!” followed by that demented laugh of hers… perhaps, she is too distracted these days trying to recall with which hand she ate last night.

Truly empowered are they who always say what the fuck they mean and never leave any doubt as to their resolve.

Incidentally, all the Jazz artists mentioned in this blog, I have to date done their Michael Overleaves.  Some are listed in the Michael Overleaves Appendix page those which aren’t were only recently channelled; they are… Natalie Cole, Anita Baker and Lena Horne.  Not in the least surprised was I to have found that Natalie Cole is an entity mate.  Every time I hear her voice, I am instantaneously catapulted to a groove that I can only call a soul high…  So then here are her Michael Overleaves with one of my favourite video performances of hers.  Every idiosyncrasy of hers resonates to the very core of my being… God she could represent!

________________________________

*Richard is New York City academician whom Merlin met during the final couple of years of his life.  This man had the most uncanny resemblance energetically to Merlin and I only met him a week after Merlin’s passing as he ventured to Toronto; he had previously planned to, to bid Merlin farewell.  Alas, unlike Joe Morton who flew in from Los Angeles for 24 hours to be with Merlin, Richard  had been too late but came nonetheless; the gesture was truly noble of spirit and was greatly appreciated.

___________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________

©2013-2020 Arvin da Brgha.  All Rights Reserved.