Best System is a Sound System ~ Bordeaux, FR Rave Protest 4/13/24

It was a day of protest Saturday, April 13th 2024 with 5 or so music trucks walking along the streets in Bordeaux, France.

pics of the street music protest and band playing 4/13/24 at Deus Ex Machina Bordeaux

I had just arrived in Bordeaux by train from Montpellier hours earlier – a 7am train after having to reschedule a train that would have arrived at midnight on Saturda. After dropping off my bags, I went across town to get an espresso and pastry at a place I have liked, Chat Noir Chat Vert Black Cat Green Cat. I was leaving there and started walking towards the river with my bicycle when I detected sounds and a crowd down the street in the distance. I had no clue this was happening, then realized it was a crowd of people marching behind a music truck towards me. What? A protest with music! Yeah!

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As they approached, I joined immediately walking with my bicycle. I realized there was another music wagon behind the first. Eventually there were 4 or 5 separate music trucks with a group walking behind each (preferred dj). My lucky day! I couldn’t figure out any particular theme, bc every sign had its own message; anarchy style. I made a sign too ”Stop Genocide for Real Estate Profit” 

This was the best sign >The Only Good System is a Sound System< The sign in the background says “the government pisses on us and the media says it’s raining” “Le Gouvernement nous Pisse Dessus Les Medias Nous Disent Qui’il Pleut”

Many people were really decked out in punk and whatever sub genre style of fashion. Eye candy everywhere … I could have taken thousands of close-up picks of dress, hair, makeup on girls and boyz. It was non-violent fun, while making the statements towards freedom from oppression and police violence and the right to gather and enjoy life.

That Saturday night in Bordeaux I bicycled over to the riverfront to Hanger 16 to find a crowd of people at the outside tables at Deus Ex Machina to hear another band for free. 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Biarritz, France | Basque Identity Dominates

I was told from several people that Biarritz is worth visiting. The splendid first picture that popped up in google maps for Biarritz caused my jaw to drop. That was all I needed to convince me to make the trip, in the opposite direction of where I needed to be in a week. I strategized to use Jost Bordeaux hotel and hostel as a base and visit Biarritz (with my bicycle) 2 hours away by train. I was allotted 6 hours from Bordeaux; no earlier or later trains on the L51 route. It took 20  minutes or so to reach the spectacular view of the wide ocean cove before me after leaving the train station; disassociated from the town which is tucked in the hills above the coast. Here was a steep drop, with a very attractive network of walkways. Glad to have a bicycle.

It was only after arriving there that I realized I was in the Basque region. After arriving at the Biarritz train station from Bordeaux, I saw a guy with Asian eyes and a bun in his light hair walking from the same train. I asked him if he’s local. He nodded yes. How do i get to, and I had to fumble through my pack to find my little red book, where I’d hastily written down tourists notes about places to see in Biarritz, . befor they’d disappear from the screen because of lack of WiFi. Ou est le ‘Rocher de la Vierge’?

At this point he said, I speak English. I asked him if he surfs, since I was told Biarritz is a known surfing spot. He answered that he does, adding that he’s from Tahiti, enough said. I asked if one of his parent’s is European? He answered, Yes, my mother is Basque. Hmmm. He didn’t say French, though he lives here in Biarritz, France. So, I was thinking to myself, Basque people identify more with their traditional roots than the country in which they reside.

I was told that the Basque history extends thousands of years before Christ. There’s a strong identity of the Basque people (the Spanish perhaps even more so than the French) and that the Basque language really has no roots with any other language. and I began writing this on the train returning from Bordeaux to Montpellier; about my Sunday venture on a local train line to Biarritz from Bordeaux. 

This half Tahitian half Basque guy told me the way to get to this area by the ocean. Up this road straight ahead, and which direction to go at each roundabout. The oceanside was the first place I intended to visit. A priority. I wasn’t interested in the town or in restaurants or shopping, but the ocean view I saw on google maps. I asked him where do people here surf? He answered that personally he goes to the south surfing beach, ‘Cote de Basque’. I remembered writing it down. There’s another beach north called ‘the Grande Plage’. 

I followed his directions…later winding through these streets, I asked two french women walking their dogs who explained that basically – waving their arms – the ocean is that way. I followed the steep streets and the road lead me finally to an opening overlooking the Atlantic ocean far below. I was looking down at a postcard view of the Atlantic ocean far below, extending quite a distance to my left, on my way to the Rock of the Virgin which I still hadn’t a clue where it was.

I wanted to touch the Atlantic ocean. 

I gazed along the coast from this high lookout point, then wound down the very well maintained walkways to the sea level. I noticed two surfers in the water, far out from the shore. Then saw one of them moving towards the coast lined with boulders. The wind was strong, the waves were tumbling in to these large black boulders mounded up in front of the sea wall. I was dubious as I watched the surfer approach the waves crashing into the rocks. It looked like it had to be well choreographed and times in order to not get pounded into the rocks. Soon at the boardwalk just above sea level I spotted first wet suit booties perched on the wall, then came upon several tents and signs indicating that it’s a ‘Surf School’. There was a lot of paraphernalia, boards and wet suits. I approached a man at the tent rolling a cigarette and said to him in french, that i saw surfers getting out of the water and that it looks quite dangerous. He nodded, the tide is coming in. He said the surfing school only operates in mornings. An hour or so later, walking by, the tents were sealed shut with no indication of a surf school.

I walked first away from the touristy place in the direction of where I had spotted from above a sandy beach, beyond a chainlink fence. Sure enough, as I approached them there was no way to get through, signs stated No Entry. I spotted several wide concrete paved walkways, like a boat launch, leading down to the water with stairs carved out in the middle of the path. The waves at their base already looked hectic, thrusting up into the walkway from where they crashed below. The water was rushing in with power. There were occasional high sprays as the waves hit the wall of this walkway.

Yet, I decided that I had to be touched by the Atlantic Ocean. I watched the water, the sprays, the metal hand rail that stopped abruptly several meters from the sea level below. There was no way I’d risk attempting to get in the water as these waves gushed in to the walkway with tremendous force. However, I could walk down it to where the hand railing ended, to be sprayed by the ocean. The metal hand rail ran down the sloped concrete walkway to within several meters of the water level where at the opening, waves as waves thundered into the wall and rushed up the concrete slab. The surfers know when they need to get out of the water. The surfer I saw timed it to the last moments. The waves were already pounding into the stairs surrounded by rocks that he was approaching. It looked really sketchy.

I didn’t have time to contemplate. Time was of the essence; one last train. There was an elderly Asian woman doing leg stretches at the top of the walkway, and an elderly couple whose path I crossed. Á guy was standing, staring down at his phone. I lifted my pack over a low wall land side to stash it. Took off all my clothes, no bathing suit, no wait, maybe i did have it (back at the Jost hostel in Bordeaux). I walked down the slab of concrete, hen to the stairs in the middle. When i reached a stair moistened by water, it was really slippery. I decided to move to the wall immediately and reached for the hand rail. I was close enough that the likelihood of a wave crashing over me was more probable. The couple stood watching from the inner walkway. I waived and smiled. They were grey haired. They waved, curious perhaps to see if I was stupid enough to attempt going all the way down to where the waves were barreling up the concrete walkway. Pretty soon a huge wave of the Atlantic sprayed forcefully over me as I gripped he rail. It drenched me. And frankly it was a bit scary, and enough to get the taste I wanted. I turned around immediately, and almost ran back. The couple were still watching me, smiling. I was nude and really didn’t care because hardly anyone else was there. The Asian woman now reading, had never looked up. The guy staring at his phone earlier was gone. I stood exhilarated, letting the strong breeze quickly dry me off. I was fascinated looking at the tremendous force of the ocean. I dressed, unlocked my bike, and proceeded to bike and walk along a number of different look out touristy points. 

At one place where I came to, I paused and happened to peek over the rail and was surprised to see a restaurant below, built into the rocks. There was a boardwalk deck and tables tucked into a low cliff. Below it was a small cove with a lot of kids swimming and screeching. Most were wearing wet suits, some with snorkels. I could hear their laughter and shouts way before I saw them swimming and playing. I had turned to look in the other direction when I heard a crash and screams. I quickly looked over the railing. A huge wave had come in and spewed right over these outer tables. Five or six people were scrambling away from the table, soaked. I saw a broken glass on the table and a woman reaching under it for her cell phone and pack of cigarettes. The picture below is where they exited from the tables.

By the time I was returning back to the train station I better understood the layout of the town in relation to the ocean front. In retrospect, I recall taking a photograph and noticing a prominent white virgin statue on top of the rock. Okay, so that was the ‘Rock of the Virgin’.

Biarritz, France on the Atlantic Ocean

So, I made it there (he he). It’s a rock island which juts out into the ocean, connected by a very high and narrow boardwalk bridge. Tourists streamed along to visit it. Every once in a while, I’d here screams when a wave sprayed over them on the boardwalk surrounding the rock, drenching them. 

I found plenty of lovely places to sit among nature’s beauty throughout the day.

It was on the train returning to Bordeaux that a young guy sat down catty-cornered from me in the same 4 chair facing seats. I was writing in a mini notepad, he got out a notepad and was transferring info from his phone. Eventually I got out the iPad to write, then he got out a laptop. We hadn’t yet even had eye contact. I asked him if he’s studying and taking notes from text on his phone. He told me that he teaches and organizes dance for kids, and is gathering information about students. He studies in Bordeaux, and was returning there from visiting his family in Bayonne. He announced that he’s Basque. Once again, the individual identified with the Basque heritage, outweighing the French. 

I told him I noticed that the signs have two different languages. Yes, one is Basque. I mentioned that it seems to have a lot of X’s. I asked how you pronounce an X. He responded with ‘shhh’, like the Portuguese. Yes, he said with a smile that Basque has a lot of X’s, Z’s and K’s. I asked him to say a phrase, and then commented, wow, it seems to be much shorter, with far fewer words than typical french or english. He answered, that’s right, Basque is a condensed language. It was quite into the conversation that I learned he is a dancer himself, and that the dance he teaches and performs is traditional Basque dance. 

I asked him in french if he speaks Basque. Yes, he does. I was surprised, thinking that like other traditional languages, it’s more the older people who speak the language. He mentioned that it’s been quite the opposite. That during the time of the dictator Franco, it was illegal to speak Basque. I said, perhaps because he, Franco, couldn’t understand the language whatsoever (no roots close to languages of Latin origin or any others), and feared that people would organize amongst themselves to overthrow him. Or it could be he just wanted to preserve Spanish, as pure, and deride any other culture. 

Mattin mentioned that back in those days, in schools for example, any time a student was caught speaking Basque, they were handed a baton. It was passed to different students throughout the day. Whoever was holding the baton at the end of the school day, was punished. He said that since that time, there has been tremendous progress in preserving the language. Presently, there are schools that teach Basque only, others that are French and Basque.

In a later conversation I chatted with a Turkish architect in Montpellier. I said that the Basque language was not permitted by Franco. He mentioned that although indeed Franco did horrific things, he also did some quite good things. He said that as a conservative, Franco felt that it was important to repair the many monuments and historical ruins that had been crumbling in disrepair. The architect Fuoad mentioned that the Spanish have become experts in the finesse and technique of renovating antiquated structures, particularly in the town of Granada. He had gone there as a VIP architect to learn specifically their restoration techniques. He brought up a phrase describing that nothing is merely black and white, good and evil. He mentioned this due to the fact that though Franco is remembered for the horrific things he did oppressing people, he also was strategic in beginning to preserve historical architectural sites and monuments, which had been abandoned and left to deteriorate in many countries.

This Sunday venture to Biarritz was preceded by the weekend in Bordeaux. I had earlier looked at the event calendar of Deus Ex Machina, a restaurant, store, merchandise located on ‘the Hanger’, the wharf of Bordeaux. I discovered the place months earlier the last time I was in Bordeaux. I was scouting for a new bicycle kryptonite lock all over town and finally found one at a shop way down at the wharf. I happened to be sitting in the restaurant of Deus Ex Machina afterwards to learn that later that evening a band would play, free entry. It is a really fun place, the music was good, WiFi and a band playing later in the evening. Sure enough, they were hosting dj’s and live music again.

After creating and posting two blogs this particular Saturday, I happened to look at one of my tabs on Safari where I had saved info about a music event on FB which once again was happening at Deus Ex Machina. I was suddenly reminded. I bicycled there across town, along the river’s edge on a concrete & boardwalk pedestrian / bike path. As I approached I saw a large crowd. 1 IPA pint is €9, so it’s not exactly free. A dj played music and then a live band.

A drummer, bass and xylophone player ~ playing the melody with two sticks in each hand. The rapper was obviously native tongue English. Ah, but 15 minutes into his set, he started rapping fluently in French. When the first set finished, I followed the band on their break out to the deck to ask him if he’s from San Francisco, cuz I thought I heard him say, “I’m from the Haight”. He said smiling, no, I’m from the eight! His birth date.

It looked like it was a full moon, riding back to Bordeaux on the train from Biarritz. Both Bordeaux and Biarritz are lovely.

My thoughts

A dog’s wagging tale is an extension of their heart and genuine expression of joy and affection.

A french woman’s words.

“The antichrist is ‘money’.”

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Eureka in the Pyrénées with Fréderic & Chopin | Dog’s Tail ~ Extension of Heart

Recently I again spent a chunk of time google-mapping and investigating train travel between numerous locations and their alternatives. After staring at a screen and doing this tedious stuff, when I walked outside with the dog, an intuitive understanding swept up to realign my thinking. With specific deadlines already confirmed for a cat sit on the far eastern border of Switzerland in France, and first going in the opposite direction to the west coast, I wound up booking the final stretch of travel towards my destination, then worked eventually in reverse order, to the present. It worked! Calculating train arrivals from Lyon to Geneva, a week away, I then booked the cool hostel I know in Lyon, and figured out the rest as time and bicycle availability dictated. 

Just weeks earlier I began feeling that I was extending myself too far outside of my comfort zone, of personal investment by not having a more stationary existence.Yet, within hours of arriving at my new Trusted Housesitters sit for the cat and dog (Fréderic and Chopin) of a Dutch couple living in southern France with a view of the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrénées ~ something clicked ~ the eureka moment. 

Fréderic

Chopin

Dog’s wagging tales ~ expressing affection and delight ~ are a direct extension of their heart. 

Upon conversing with the Dutch man host who told me he coaches people. he asks how they feel about situations, listen to one’s gut. He says that many of peoples’ conflicts and problems and fears, are what they perceive that have been passed on from their parents, their mothers, along generations. And he said he has no time for those who are not willing to acknowledge a conflict/behavior nor to take the steps to move towards what they can envision where they want to aspire to. 

I listened. Realized that I’ve become more experienced and efficient booking travel and hostels in between sits, so that I have no excuse not to dole out time and prioritize completing my book. Within a day or two, I lined up two new pet sitting gigs, lengthy enough to allow me to relax, and began working on my book again. And now realize that with less social distraction, I can treat the current pet sitting lifestyle in mostly rural areas as a writers/artist residency. I am thrilled, I’m his exactly where I need to be. 

Chopin has been my heavy breathing companion. When he’s not sleeping, he is busily investigating and alert to anything that moves. Even when furiously digging and poking his nose into the hole, he’ll pause to look up at any vehicle that suddenly enters the soundscape, then continues. He has had a summer camp exploratory plunge into every field and ditch and river tributary, only once needed a leash, when had to cross a stream to get to the road to the local Chateau de Castelbon. Besides digging in rodent holes, Chopin bounces through fields and showed me where all the places are to get down the river banks where he’d bound into the rivers. It was as if he knew what I wanted, looking for how deep various spots were to see if we could cross. I’d investigate the hand holds down to the river and on the other side. I discovered through contact with the dog, that stinging nettles abound. 

He would become engaged in something and always look up, look back at me, to make sure I was still there. What an amazing feeling of ‘being needed and wanted’, unconditional love. And hearing his panting return into the radar if he’d drift away. With a tail that says eveything. His tale would start wagging, pounding rhythmically on the ground if he was laying down. It really is like an extended heart. Dogs tales wag when they express delight. Between observing this dog and playing with him in all our outings for hours on end, and having to continuously be observant of where any stinging nettles plants were in my path, I was very much so ‘in the moment’. 

Today I had a spa. I took off the boots and socks and walked barefoot along a stream, a soft bed of leaves, sitting on a rock sinking my feet into sand colored wet clay, letting the cold water surround my feet. Sitting there only hearing cow bells. And Chopin in delight, like a child running from one intrigue and scent to another, and always looking back at me to make sure I’m still there. Intelligent and hyperaware, Chopin always came to me when I called. What a delight. He is well trained.

Google Photos bordering Pyrénées in France

I adored them both and the delight and affection only grey. I was in tearing as I said goodbye. Fréderic always seems to love sprawling out on the dirt, anywhere, yet, always looking fabulously clean and fluffy. He does have a dreadlock or two. He’d roll around as if giving himself a massage with the stones poking out from the soil. Slept most of the day, hunted at night. Occasionally Chopin and I would come across Fréderic on our night strolls, and the three of us would walk together. Super experience of place and of the animals reflecting the open spirit of the hosts.

blogger Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz

Double happiness on a woven mat

Seahorses | Étang de Thau ~ Sète ~ Marseillan ~ Cap d’Agde | southern France by the Mediterranean

I came to the town of Marseillan in the south of France to care for two black male brother felines, Once in a while they bat at each other, but most of the time are cuddling and curled up sleeping with one another, Each purr machines and gentle, one more naughty. He had seemingly disappeared, until i spotted a lump under the covers; playing hide n seek.

I had been familiar with the name Sète, the village on the hill across the lagoon, traveling by it on the train. That’s Sète below glowing pink at sunset.

I’ve bicycled all over the place; google mapping routes, drawing maps and exploring. I found myself riding parallel to train tracks, often.

Between drawing maps and asking people, I found my way. And each time I started talking to a stranger, which I do often, I learned something new about the area. 

The seagulls are very vocal. White swans, pink flamingos and a variety of seabirds are everywhere. Many places are like a ghost town in the winter; massive camping areas for summer vacationers. I cycled to Marseillan Plage, learned that it made a big difference which side of the canal one is on, after traversing the distance and finding a dead end towards a light house and large building, with no bridge. I had to cycle back several km back. Later asked an elderly gentleman pointing to the canal who informed me that this building hosts students learning to sail. I spotted a class in session the other day.

I conversed with two men in french who met sailing years ago, and are now each self confessed  ‘nomads’ – living in different places with their boats. I said, hey that’s my music name nomadbeatz! 

At one point I mentioned the book I’m writing “A Seahorse Tale” and immediately one mentioned that this body of water – Étang de Thae – is a habitat for seahorses. What? Really?  

It’s a lagoon bordered with a sliver of land between Sète and the Mediterranean. I looked up the Étang and seahorses and sure enough, it’s true.

A Marine Dump that has become a privileged habitat for seahorses in the Étang de Thau (France)

Les hauts secrets de l’étang de Thau 

And other article in french (good language practice with google translate displaying the paragraph and its translation side by side) talking about the history of the lagoon, its past problems with pollution from a concentration of phosphates in the last 50 years, which has been resolved, yet with a current new threat of warming water temperatures. Climate. The threat hangs over the Etang de Thau

”In the 1970s, the Hérault basin was in agony. Over the previous two decades, agriculture intensified and the number of inhabitants increased without sewage treatment plants keeping pace….It is a fragile, precious environment, saved several times. But for how much longer? Between land and sea, the Thau pond is closely monitored by scientists. Because, in addition to the ecological singularity of this lagoon separated from the sea by islets of sand, the activity of many shellfish and oyster farmers depends entirely on its ecological balance.” Hippocampe is french for seahorse.

L’hippocampe moucheté ou Hippoccampus guttulatus

After looking up where in Étang de Thau seahorses are located, I made my way winding on road around Sète to the left side and around to the lagoon. This time I braved getting in the water ~ cold water bathing ~ and felt fantastic, shivering as i wind dried. I saw the crescent moon and got almost all the way back to Marseillan with enough sunlight to see the way (dusk).

I also was informed about Cap d’Agde and found my way to explore it, by this time, it was the full moon.

I also learned from conversation about the Canal du Midi, created to allow boats through to the Mediterranean from the Atlantic. This is it below looking in one and the opposite direction.

Canal du Midi

So it has been a nice synchronicity of discovery.

wind carving circles from needles of grass

bicycle path to Agde

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Pianos @ Piano Players 🎹 Train Stations in France ~ pianos dans les gares françaises

Delighted to discover pianos ~ and piano players ~ at most metropolitan train stations in France.

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The Chills and Thrills of Cold Water Night Swimming – Lake Geneva, Switzerland 2024 – Mammalian Dive Reflex

So, I happen to be in France, 100 meters from the border of Switzerland, on the outskirts of Geneva, I knew I’d be here around the holidays. I’ve mapped out several different routes to visit various animal parks and nature conservatories, all requiring negotiating the way in to the city around the airport. 

I googled at the last minute and found this “New Year’s Eve at the water’s edge, bringing the New Year in to the sound of music” Wow, great. I‘m there!

I had recently seen an article in National Geographic about the benefits of cold water swimming. “This is what a polar plunge does to your body” 

I spontaneously decided to do a cold water plunge in lake Geneva on New Year’s Day. The water of the lake is extraordinarily clear, tremendous visibility. I wound up meandering eventually to an area that I found afterwords, is precisely a bathing area: Bains des Paquis. They advertise ‘night swimming’ there although it wasn’t scheduled that particular evening!

It was already after dark, I walked along a pier. Had randomly asked a few people along the way if anyone wanted to take the plunge. Approaching this statue monument at the end of the peninsula, looking down at this boardwalk, I ironically saw a couple getting dressed, having just gotten out of the water.

My cue to take the plunge. I watched and listened to a cluster of birds by this faux light house and eventually built up the nerve. 

I looked at the splash wet marks on the wooden walkway by ladders where people had gotten out. This couple were already long gone. I didn’t last very long, but was fully invigorated. 

Now I realize why I’m doing this. The character in the book is involved in this process on pg. 120 known as the Mammalian Diving Reflex  |  Bar–atm  |  Reduces Need for Breaths “While the initial cold response leads to an increase in heart rate and blood pressure, those changes reverse after several minutes.”

I vowed to do it the following day, same place, this time found a place along the building with hooks on the wall for bathers. Around the corner, I saw another couple, in the water. These people have dressing rooms and heat and probably hot water for when they get out. I didn’t, but had layers to put on. Here were concrete stairs going right into the water. This second day was tremendously windy. I went for it. The wind whipped the moisture from my skin quickly.

I did it a third time, also hearing and seeing other people who had come for a night swim. I didn’t fully immerse my head, but swam around these same white birds, now right where I wanted to go in. The third time I stayed in longer, and didn’t have the convulsing feeling of cold and need of heat afterwards. It’s fully exhilarating and is such a charge emotionally, as much from the physiological effects as to simply know that you’ve done it. 

Reverence for Nature > Let Indigenous people Guide

If this is in fact true, it is fantastic to hear!

There is the concept of God, which is man made, like drilling for oil to fuel man’s cars and desire for immediate gratification….and then there are actual creatures, you know, elk, caribou, whales, frogs…which are living beings on this planet, whose homes are territories which humans continue to encroach upon and destroy. The earth is a sacred, life giving place and these creatures are sacred and spectacular. We humans should switcheroo, dramatically change the way we look at our earth and its creatures, to pray and honor these, instead of Nike shoes and iPhones. If it takes ingesting psychedelics to instigate this change of perspective for humans to actually see and realize the value of protecting the earth and the natural world, then let the psilocybin ceremonies and sacred congregations begin. God is not ‘up there’ or ‘out there’, DOG is GOD, our earth and all of the living systems intertwined, rivers, air, soil, insects, worms…are ALL SACRED. Let’s learn from Indigenous people and allow them to guide us, and stop paying homage to men in business suits who wear ties. https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/06/climate/biden-drilling-alaska-wildlife-refuge.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=edit_th_20230907

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Carol at the Sunday Market in the magical medieval town of Saint Cyprien de Dordogne (the river region) of southwestern France in the wine country ~ between Bourdeaux and Sarlat.

New York Times article Normalizing Gun Violence

Why bother? The United States of Arms is all about weapons, gun sales, weapon industry, wars. Individual freedom to defend oneself, uh, when there’s so much inequality and such an immense rift in opportunities for health, food quality, education, housing and job opportunities between Billionaires and poor.

And the Hollywood Marketing World of the United States of Apathy is all about manufacturing lies by the advertising industry and the marketplace, who care more about selling a product, than honest communication about raising peoples’ awareness and consciousness about what it is to be alive and in love and mystified with this incredible planet earth and all of its majestic creatures, with water, with soil, and free to really use one’s heart and mind to its full potential and to live cooperatively with one another in true community.

Instead, the power and financial gap keeps widening, and the freedom is about freedom to own and buy, as opposed to freedom to truly become the individual person who shines through their own joy living their true essence.

This enormous lie {elephant in the room that hardly anyone is even aware of} because we are so manipulated and convinced that material things are where freedom comes from, that all are

consumed with consuming.

That enormous gap and lie is what drives violence, addiction and poverty of spirit. I’m afraid this virus has spread all over the world. And nothing sickens me more than to see people proudly holding out their phone, or glued to its screen as they walk,

o b l i v i o u s

and

a p a t h e t i c

to what is around them.

Deadly Louisiana Shooting Caps a Holiday Weekend of Violence

I was reading about the shooting in Shreveport, Louisiana after there had already been (within 48 hours or so) a mass shooting in Baltimore, Washington, D.C., and then in Shreveport, “The shooting, which left four dead and seven wounded, was one of several in multiple cities since Friday.” 

Never was it so viscerally clear and revolting to me regarding the term ‘normalizing’ (in his case the presence of guns and gun violence in the United States of Arms), until I read these sentences in this article, 

“None of this was particularly unusual for the holiday that marks the birth and independence of the United States, at least in recent years. The period from June 30 to July 7 has seen about a dozen mass shootings every year since at least 2014, according to the Gun Violence Archive.

Gun violence tends to increase during the summer months. And while the reasons have been the subject of debate among criminologists, some speculate that, in a country bristling with weapons, more people gathering for parties and barbecues may lead to more disputes that result in deadly gunfire.”

Creatures Encountered at chosen Outdoor Workplaces

Yesterday stopping by a fav place in a huge park, before heading off to this main library Staatbibliotech to plug in (electricity and WiFi) is where i fed the fox two days ago.

Same fox, same area. Then today on my way to a different library, there were people gathered by the canal and on a nearby rooftop, all celebrating the plan to filter the water with plants and various methods, to create a swimming area.

I looked downI into the canal as I was bicycling by and saw 5 baby swans with two adult white swans.

I decided to stay there, grabbed a lawn chair and worked on an image with Procreate, as various tiny, adorable beetles with fascinating designs, landed from the tree above onto my pack/table. I never saw before a ladybug with only two spots.

Here’s one i just pulled from my hair, hitchhiked with me to the library from the canal and back, where i transferred it to the cocktail napkin and to a leafy area outside. haha

 

Berlin, Germany Graffiti & Street Art

!Art is a Weapon, Use it

Earth Museum among other inspirational Arts of ‘48 Stunde Neuköln’ Art Studio Open Houses

https://48-stunden-neukoelln.de/de/festival

It was fun to see some super quirky art and performances and inspiring to see some really great talent and conversations with artists.

This Earth Museum, full of dirt; glass jars of various colors and textures, labeled from the location the earth is sourced. FASCINATING to see the variety and truly inspiring. The woman who started this has folders with photos of the people who send her the dirt from their region. She offered an interactive intuitive play, in which one randomly chooses one jar of earth, and answers questions about it.

I chose this black dirt, from Iceland it turned out, where I ‘ve not yet been. She said it’s magnetic ~ ironically i chose this when i’m already fascinated with magnetism. Another woman pointed out and handed me a jar from New Mexico, one of only a few samples from the USA. That’s the desert color on the side of the paper. 

And when I asked this artist, what is the black material you’re using……records, vinyl….his sculptures and ‘paintings’ made from the various colors of crushed vinyl.

The artist seated, a very talkative and absorbed (in the moment) guy.

The theme for all the artists was ‘play’

I went out and bought a small sketch book the following day, i was so inspired with this woman’s drawings of places she’s visited.

I decided to quickly grab some pencils and paper at this kids art center.

The man with the blue striped shirt assisted in supplying kids and adults, with pens, pencils, paper and taped them onto the mushroom pillar, while Turkish kids playing ball behind in a court screamed as they played.

I stayed for a while looking at the art of one curator’s gallery. One of the beautifully done but disturbing paintings in his gallery was a black canvas, looked like black velvet, with a black woman laying sideways, her eyes barely open, with drug paraphernalia all around the floor in front of her and white powder on her face. I said it’s scary. Another woman later said it’s sad. The curator said, hey, people need to see the reality. I said it should be hung at bus and train stations, where addicts often hang out. I mentioned that I ‘only’ smoke weed, as if justifying that this is ok. It was later that the gallery curator started talking about the fact that even marijuana can be an addiction in which a person doesn’t realize what energy they may be stealing from their own body and consciousness. That’s how the topic and awareness of addictions in general came up.

The curator mentioned that one doesn’t need anything. That pure, unadulterated awareness is a beautiful and fabulous way to greet the day. It was during this time that I contemplated the extent to which I was altering my reality, even if I felt that it was relatively harmless. I have seen for myself an acquaintance who was a very handsome guy in his youth, who flew around the world for his modeling gigs. I saw him decades later, and would have not recognized the seemingly homeless guy who slowly walked towards me emerging from the shadows, had he not said hello. The shocker was when he open his mouth, saying and displaying ‘I’ve lost my teeth’. Wow, what one can lose in their life to an addiction; health, energy, clarity, spirit. The curator also mentioned the distinction between being alone, in one’s head, cerebrally thinking that everything is fine, saying that the big difference and challenge, is when one interacts with other human beings. The social factor, he said, is what really exposes a person to one’s heart and emotional reality. 

I was telling the Romanian curator that when a person smokes weed, they dream less – probably because they’re in that mode during their waking time. I told him that I’ve had some very powerful dreams in my life, and in fact actually choose being able to dream and recall them, to smoking. Ironically, the following morning I had a dream. I was up in a small plane with my sister and she forced me to ‘take the wheel’ and fly the plane. I was on my own, had never flown a plane and really didn’t know how to operate the controls. It was scary, various things whizzed by me that I just barely negotiated around to avoid hitting. Yeah, but I managed. It is so symbolic! Take the reins of your life and fly. Only one life.

I just had a flat fixed on my bicycle, lubed the chain earlier and wore my tutu for the event, the first day! The bicycle was clearly the best way to discover all the different hidden spots.

Wildlife in Berlin, Germany Spring ‘23 ~ pigeon’s raising young on balcony

Though I’ve seen wild boars as well previously living here, I have no pics.

I’ve also fed chickadees from my hand several times in this small cemetery.

I have a pigeon couple who made a nest on my balcony. I watched the nest building process. Then spotted an egg, then the tiny yellow chick. It was a reason to stay at this current residence, to protect them. That baby yellow pigeon chick May 12th, is this toddler with adult coloring sitting on the flower pot, 3 weeks later, June 1st. I watched as dark strands appeared in the yellow feathers. Still gets fed now, wrapping a wing arm around the adult and crying for food, yet also now is eating the sunflower seeds and drinking the water in a lid. Very alert. Flaps its wings, I watch as the pigeons stretch their arms and legs. Two mornings ago, i awoke to see the pigeons not squatting on a ledge on the balcony, but each adult perched on my ajar bedroom window, their bodies inside. What? I looked and after this hot day, their water lid was empty. I think they meant to indicate that. Hilarious surprise. I keep it fresh. 

That baby yellow pigeon chick May 12th, is this toddler with adult coloring sitting on the flower pot, 3 weeks later, June 1st. I watched as dark strands appeared in the yellow feathers. Still gets fed now, wrapping a wing arm around the adult and crying for food, yet also now is eating the sunflower seeds and drinking the water in a lid. Very alert. Flaps it’s wings, I watch as the pigeons stretch their arms and legs. Two mornings ago, i awoke to see the pigeons not squatting on a ledge on the balcony, but each adult perched on my ajar bedroom window, their bodies inside. What? I looked and after this hot day, their water lid was empty. I think they meant to indicate that. Hilarious surprise. I keep it fresh. 

Here are pics of the wildlife I’ve encountered.

iPad gmail dysfunction challenge

So, i’m off to the Apple store again tomorrow to click 1430 times, deleting 50 emails per click, of 74,000…which built up when upon using exclusively an ipad to check email, and didn’t quite understand what these other folders where mail was being ferried to;ie ‘social’, ‘promotions’, also needed to be cleared out. I didn’t understand the format, and although i always ritually check, file and delete emails from my inbox ALWAYS, i hadn’t realized that these other folders were part of it. Several years and 100,000 built up, even the laptop not functioning to delete in bulk… now 74,000 remaining. After tomorrow, I will have reduced the massive emails that are predominantly using up my google icloud storage. The reason it’s vital, is because i suddenly could not access the google doc which is the interactive bibliography to my book, a vital part of the book. It documents links, alphabetically by subject (eventually). It documents the text and video links, author, images, and subject matter in more depth.  At least I’m dealing with it, since the next jump in monthly payments for icloud storage, goes from $1.99 to $2.99 and then $9.99 a month. Already paying $2.99. this guy’s video clarifies this. But somehow gmail is NOT deleting in bulk (unless it’s under 2,000). pic of my bibliography which is a working part of searching subjects and material. Here’s a guy suggesting how to deal with it.

gmail ipad dysfunctionality, google storage, hidden folders, relentless prompts by gmail to buy more storage 

Here below is one tiny sample of circa 170 pages of the book, some with dozens of links on each page.

Fresh Graffiti Berlin, Germany Mauerpark

There were quite a number of people in the process of spray painting graffiti on the wall Mauerpark, Berlin with their cans, April 10, 2023

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Addendum to yesterday | Synchronicity and meeting the sisters from Amman, Jordan again today.

After leaving one library, ZLB (i guess that’s what it’s called) and then spending the last hour at another, the Staatbibliotech, I stopped at REWE (a grocery store) where i danced to a stupid song in the isle and looked over my shoulder to laugh with these two girls near me. Before i unlocked my bicycle outside, one of them came up to me and said i was the girl from yesterday at the museum. Yesterday I talked to them sitting on the bench, at first in German, they answered that they don’t speak German. I was telling them about this young girl I just saw on the balcony of the museum with a bloated, pale as white face and a line of pale vomit by her body. She looked like she was dead, I said, and I was emotionally freaked…Yet, minutes later I returned and discovered as emergency crew arrived that she was alive, walking only because they were holding her up. These girls were still on the bench and they now saw as well that she was ok, well, not dead. 

So an hour ago, we met again. They commented that it’s so wild that we ran into one another again at a completely different area. I talked with them for a while. They wanted to know where to buy hair die. It was already too late for stores,to be open. “Are you sisters?” I asked. “Yes”. One, Saja studied engineering, lives here, paying almost her entire paycheck for her apartment. Her sister Mana has been visiting.for 3 weeks and will leave sometime soon. She’s the older one and the one who wants the hair die. I said, what, you want to return to Jordan in disguise? No, she wants to die it Green. She mentioned she wouldn’t move to Berlin unless she first found a job.  

This evening I asked where they’re from. Jordan they answered. I asked if it’s near Lebanon. The one showed me spatially the relationship between Jordan, Syria, Israel and Lebanon.

From the largest city, Amman.

Jordan, they say, women have much more equality than a lot of neighboring countries. It’s a safe country. There are no conflicts, yet they’re surrounded by countries with them. And in Jordan women can walk around any time of the day or night, unlike Eqypt, one of them mentioned. Besides the attractions of the pyramids, there’s still the resounding culture. I mentioned what I’d heard of India, and gang rapes. One mentioned that the UAE United Arab Emirates is also safe. for women, relatively speaking.

As a monarchy, the queen of Jordan insists on education and equal rights for women. Therefore, there are a lot of professional women there. Saja, the engineer commented that everywhere there are leaders who are more religious and fanatical as well as leaders and people who are more progressive. She likes the international flavor of Berlin. I mentioned I care about saving the natural world from humans, We talked for a while. Both completely understand English. They were raised Muslim yet don’t actively follow it. Saja said a person’s spirituality is a very personal thing, implying that it can’t be defined by this or that organized set of premises. Tomorrow they anticipate visiting either Düsseldorf or Prague, I said, go to Prague. 

It Had to be a Dream | Western Man Warring Since Ancient Greece | German Industrialism | Noosphere | The Universe Story

Yes, it had to be a dream, because i was feeling euphoric about Berlin, and then i woke up. The point of this, is that what I noticed and attended to when viewing documentations of history in museums, was fed by the associations I made with recent conversations and my web of insights through the experiences that I’ve had. A young vibrant Spanish guy with whom I talked with a bit on Saturday evening, a history teacher in Madrid, Spain, quickly got to the subject of not supporting Ukraine, specifically because it has become a political toggle switch. We discussed war. He mentioned the history of aggression of the United States and how many different conflicts the USA has perpetually engaged in. I told him to look up the movie ‘War Made Easy’. He mentioned that humans have had wars throughout history. There are plenty of patterns of war and aggression. He also brought up that religions are tools to manipulate people, to force them to acquiesce. 

Inside were photographs documenting the history of German technology and economics. First the beginning of the industrial age period of Coal. There were all of these men with completely black faces, certainly black lung disease was brewing in their chests. Some worked naked, with just shoes, since the soot would ruin any clothes. This lead to the Steel production phase, then the Chemical section, talking about how Germany embarked on the pharmaceutical path. Bayer being a good example. Then the Textile section, mass production of yarns, dying. It was mentioned that once the war started, the Nazi regime redirected all of the various productions towards, in this latter case, producing military uniforms. Last was the Automotive section, where I learned that the Volkswagen, was a Nazi production, providing a car for the people. My brother’s first car was a Volkswagen Beetle, so obviously this was a success selling their products overseas. Of course Germany is known for its automobile manufacturers. It was again stressed that at the start of WWII, car production slowed, making way for building military tanks and so forth. The subject of Industrialization was starting to wear thin. The ugliness and the obvious destruction of the environment and praise of mass production, is the pride of this history. I decided to leave.

By the way, the bureaucracy of Germany was felt in the present. The museums are technically free the First Sunday of the month, yet after standing in line to enter the museum, one had to stand in a separate line to get a little sticker to enter the exhibit rooms, and also another line, forced “to check coats (security measure). 

The next museum I decided to go into, was ‘sold out’, though free. Already too many people were crowded inside. I decided to walk around this other massive building, and indeed, it was a museum as well. Another long line flowing down the stairs outside. Somehow, a man approached and handed me two tickets for that museum. I said sure. I turned and gave the man behind me one, walked up the stairs bypassing the line, now another forced coat check. I entered into Ancient Greece. I’m sure I was in this museum before, and sort of absentmindedly wandered through, reading looking. 

Now, looking at the relics, very tediously attending to the details of the painting on vases and reading the information about the time period and dates, the Spanish History teachers words the night before were fresh. Of the continual presence of war throughout history and using religion and traditions to not guide, but coerce the population. I was quickly astounded and revolted, realizing that the stories told through the paintings and themes of Ancient Greece, the beginning of Western civilization, 2,000 years before Christ, 4,000 years ago, was predominantly all about war, weapons, sacrifices (donations/offerings) to the Gods. I looked at steel helmuts, saw the body armor through the relief of statues, the dress that was common for woman and men. So much of the theme was dominated with war and weapons. I happened to stand briefly by a film documenting the exhibit, long enough to read the words, ”notice who are clothed and unclothed”, which cued me to attend to this detail. Some of the women’s fabrics looked shear, they wore long skirts and tops. The ‘musicians’ painted on clay were men, with instruments, often naked. The men with swords and shields tended to wear short pants, with body armor shielding their chests, backs, shins, perhaps arms, and also heavy helmuts. There was already an aristocratic class, who were well adorned, and I am certain, who instructed and encouraged the masses to always bring an offering to the Gods, of which of course, there were many. The Gods and Religion dominated their world and forced and enforced rituals and habits. Young men with cartoonish over the top muscled legs and calves adorned tombs, as did young women with gifts of animal sacrifices in their hands. I did notice that Satyrs tended to be naked, and saw one with an erection. 

War, offerings to the Gods and a huge focus and preoccupation with death and tombs, seemed to be the dominant them. And fortunately music and dance was apparent. I read about Necropolis, the city of the dead. I guess the first concept of a cemetery, where one houses the dead and makes sure that they have a very sumptuous amount of material things on hand for their afterlife.    

I pondered all of these pieces and the root of western man’s warring nature and obsession with appeasing the Gods, which in fact was I’m sure, just the ruling aristocratic class’s tool to maintain control of their power. I lingered until the end, then left the museum, glanced to the right of the spacious balcony and saw far at the end a few people standing there. There was no noise, no commotion, only a few people, nothing to indicate me to go there. But I started walking towards these people, then saw that it was two young punk looking girls, and another one laying on the ground. but as I got closer, I saw that the girl’s face laying down was super abnormally pale, it was puffy and white. Then I saw this trail of pale vomit, near her and in front of her face. I suddenly said to these girls, ‘she’s dead’. And raced back to the door to the security guards to inform them. They went over, the 2 girls dressed in punk attire, had already called an ambulance. It was alarming. I left, in almost a trance like state, in shock. Fortunately, decided to return to the outside, saw the Ambulance, and then to my shock, I saw that the girl was actually alive, and almost slumped walking, had to be held up. Super disturbing, especially since I had been acquainted with a 20 year girl when I lived in San Francisco, who died one East Sunday, because she apparently drank alcohol on top of the drub GHB, and her heart slowed to a stop. Needless to say, the impressions of the day revolted me. And when I look at the state of the natural world, and all of the different creatures that are now endangered of quickly vanishing from this planet in a mass extinction, I feel immense sadness.

So the dream of euphoria, was a dream. I find myself smiling and laughing and pleasure in observing nature, and pretty routinely remind myself of all the things I’m grateful for. Yet, I continually read about and am reminded consistently about how much humanity has been guided down an abysmally destructive path towards our natural environment and planet. Just absolutely overlooking and disregarding, what indigenous peoples continually were observant to, loving and protecting their natural environment and taking only what they need. The ‘primitive’ people have recognized that they are part of a very large continuum of life. And because I personally was raised in a small town surrounded by rural areas and my family had cats and dogs as pets, and the natural beauty of the world and value of protecting and caring for nature, is what has lead me to be passionate about saving the natural world; flora and fauna, waterways, air from human ignorance and greed.

I’m forced by economics to share housing. I’m super attentive to cleanliness and maintaining my space. It a Capricorn trait, which is my sun sign. However, I’m also very flexible and resilient about adapting, which is a Sagittarius trait, where I have three planets. So, I continually work out routines and idiosyncratic ways to work around and ignore what repulses me. And my moon is in Scorpio, along with two other planets, so I can continually dream about and strive towards reaching my ideal, emotionally needing to relentlessly move in that direction. I’m making up what I don’t know. 

The other evening I actually had a conversation with someone. If I am among Germans, unless I reach out to instigate the first comments, which I do on a regular basis, I am completely invisible. That is not just a personal thing, I notice that Germans (as I had realized previously when I lived here, but forgot), don’t tend to even make eye contact. And when together in pairs or in a group, they will be engaged in their conversations and literally not acknowledge anything outside of this sphere. Walking individually, only some may for a half a second, sweep their eyes in the direction of another human being, however it is certainly not to engage. Now wait, Asian people, of which there are a significant number here in Berlin, also tend to be exceedingly private. I remember when I first went to China town when I had first moved to San Francisco. I also felt invisible, because the people coming across one’s path diligently avoid any kind of eye contact. Their stares fixed ahead. Of course, I realize that when I’m not in a particularly good mood and am annoyed about something, I also very deliberately avoid looking at or engaging. That is however rare, I’m by nature super curious, and am continually observing the environment, the trees, peoples actions, architecture.

The Third Story of the Universe | Brian Swimme | TEDxBerkeley

The emergence of the Noosphere, the thinking layer of Earth. Humanity needs to develop a planetary mind to guide Earth’s evolution. Humanity is not more valuable or important than other species. The capacity of humans to create art, with reproductive imagination to share insight.

The noosphere is part of a collective mind. Yes, engineers built telescopes, yet they draw on the collective mind. Web is the eye, humanity is the mind.

He extrapolates from the original co-written piece with Thomas Berry, The Universe Story

The Universe Story: From the Primordial Flaring Forth to the Ecozoic Era – A Celebration of the Unfolding of the Cosmos.

Martin Luther King Jr. knew what was going on, and he was murdered because he spoke the truth.

One Nation under G U N S | Land of the Free, Home of the Bewildered | United States of Apathy

What could be the change? Which do you choose? Amassing stuff & money, or interacting with nature, in body and spirit, for free?

I don’t know about you, I have only my experiences from my own family life where i was raised in a small town in Pennsylvania among cats, dogs, trees and lots of exposure to arts, education and appreciation and love of nature. And every subsequent contact and influence through people i met throughout my life as well as what information I’ve been put into touch with. I know that I don’t need diamonds, gold, jewelry, shiny objects, ivory, animal heads that I’ve conquered to mount on my wall, remedies from exotic animals for this or that dysfunction…nor do i need to keep gathering objects and amass things. I don’t need a car. I love bicycling. I also continually appreciate very little things, and find amusement and delight in the natural world. I prefer to be outdoors, and fortunately, am not currently homeless > I do enjoy a stable, calm, peaceful place to prepare my two meals of the day and sleep.  

I don’t need to continually purchase, clothing. I have been wearing the same sneakers for walking, bicycling, in rain or snow. And just got a second hand pair of shoes for free, for dressy occasions, when I can wear one of my 6 dresses that I brought with me in my luggage which are classics, that don’t change with fashion circuits seasonally. I brought my cleats with me as well, which I use wherever I live, when I find the local ultimate frisbee pickup games. blah, blah, blah

I looked outside of my window from the high rise room in Berlin (extremely tight and difficult shared housing situation) last evening, and noticed how many red glowing lights were in the sky. They are all cranes, except for two smoke stacks. I counted about 16 cranes that I could see from the day, from stretching to look right and left, except for the large square office building blocking my view straight ahead. 

WTF is the need for continued building? What the fuck is the need for supporting guns? What is the need for victimizing people who are fleeing dangerous situations (political turmoil or warming climate destroying their ability to survive and eat) when in fact it is predominantly the western developed world who are energy hogs and who have intermittently and with regularity destabilized regions politically, destabilized the climate, and recklessly and relentlessly invested in oil (and coal) when they know for a fact, if they have any kind of a clue and read anything, that our climate and entire ecological environment is endangered. 

I don’t want cranes.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2019-09-24/what-i-learned-counting-cranes-in-san-francisco

I want live cranes in our beautiful world. Nothing is more precious than clean air, water and the beauty and exhilaration of interacting with the nature of our beautiful world.

What is it not to get (understand/realize), that our lifestyles and demands and insistence on endless upgrading and getting immediate satisfaction, and lack of active statements and protests and going up against the powers that be, who want nothing more than for everything to stay the same, and the consuming public to continue to consume – and subsequently their power and control and amount of money in their bank accounts forever increase? 

Endless building, endless construction, endless buying, consuming without end. Putting more and more satellites into the atmosphere to create yet more junk, thanks a lot, not, Elon.

We need a radically different economic system that is not leveraged on the artificially crafted value of money, and our complete dependency on it. 

Instead of being radically separate, we could be joining together in person, in communities; research & development, idea sharing, creating gardens, building things, crafting, talking, laughing, dancing. We really don’t need to collect and amass all this stuff. 

This blog was unplanned, a spontaneous result of reading headlines about another mass shooting in the USA and of hospitals filling up by youth harming themselves.

Did anyone of my FB friends bother to read the transcript i posted of Gabor Mate’s talk about healing through ayahuasca? Because he is clearly talking about the TRAUMA INDUCED BY THE ENVIRONMENT (FAMILY, SOCIAL, POLITICAL, ECONOMIC) and the fact that many people i the western DEVELOPED nations, and particularly the LAND OF THE FREE, are enmeshed in a web of trauma. 

Gabor Mate transcript Gabor Mate speaks the truth, eloquently. 10 years ago!!!

It is essential for the emotionally, psychologically and spiritually sick population of the Wealthy western world (derivative and export of our fine hypocritical social and economic system of Capitalism) because healing and awareness is available. 

Dr. Gabor Mate On The Healing Power Of Ayuhuasca

this is outrageous! Let’s just keep doing the same routines and not thinking about what is wrong with a system that bails out bankers and cuts education and healthcare to the people, who have huge stresses with high housing costs…

“The portion of American hospital beds occupied by children with suicidal or self-harming behavior has soared over the course of a decade, a large study of admissions to acute care hospitals shows.”

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Above statue at the grave of Frederick Chopin at Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris. We need less stuff, less occupation with work, and more play, laughter, togetherness, song, dance and psychedelics. Less is more. 

‘War Made Easy ~ How Presidents and Pundits Keep Spinning Us To Death’ film within | Corporate Media has Colluded, Acting as Stenographers for the Pentagon

Startling, frightening, no Hollywood horror movie could be more chilling than this political documentary. A Brown University study reveals that the USA has engaged in conflicts with 100 countries. The corporate media has colluded in all the conflicts, acting as stenographers for the Pentagon, rather than questioning and investigating.

“20 Years After Iraq Invasion: “War Made Easy ~ How Presidents and Pundits Keep Spinning Us To Death”. Critic Norman Solomon alleges that many government administrations have distorted facts and manipulated the media to sell the necessity of war to the American people.”

“War Made Easy” Full Movie | How Presidents & Pundits Keep Spinning Us to Death from Media Education Foundation on Vimeo.

Following the film, some activists, writers, educators, stated that we merely have to educate ourselves and focus on ‘media, education, and labor’. The message also was that

‘We the People’ should be the one’s dictating democratically foreign policy, not government leaders behind closed doors, opaquely, and the corporate Media echoing the propaganda and like puppet strings, shoving patriotism down our throats. 

Great discovery of very unpleasant information. The messages by the film maker is that the corporate media has been not only complicit, but major persuasive players in holding the line of leaders. The film talks about the blatant propaganda to convince citizens of the need to go to war, often colluding ‘supporting the troops’ with patriotism, conflating being against the war, with not standing by the troops. The film also talks of how the media brandishes the glorification of weapons and always stays clearly away from questioning motives for war or getting close enough to actually see on the ground, the horror and inhumane and immoral nature of war. Those journalists who have expressed a different opinion than blindly towing the line, have quickly been removed.

Well worth it. In most wars the USA has perpetually carried out, many more civilians have been the victims. Only a few members of Congress have stood up against war. Dennis Kucinich talks of American Imperialism. If you want to see a scary movie, in terms of blatant tactics of deceit, this is a documentary horror flick. Leaders state that they’re pulling out, ending the conflict, while actually injecting more money into increasing arms. I recommend informing yourself. The message also was that the people should be the one’s dictating democratically foreign policy, not governments and corporate media pulling the strings and then shoving patriotism down our throats. A Brown University study reveals that the USA has engaged in conflicts with 100 countries

Through Roots Action, I learned of this online Screening and Panel following it on zoom March 20th. Pulled it off, though it started at 6:45 ET which is 11:45pm German time. 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Progression of a Room March ‘23 Berlin, Germany

It’s primitive, bit tattered, yet with warmth (no heat turned on) and funky charm. Here are pics of the room progression on the 11th floor in the center of Berlin.

Berlin Feb. 2023 | 73 Berlinale International Film Festival

Berlin has a history of arts, music, dance and craftsmanship in architecture and stonework. It has naturally attracted artists and musicians throughout the decades. Here are some February photographs of the city of Berlin, Germany and highlights of the 73rd Berlinale Film Festival.

The official 73rd Berlinale International Film Festival

I have made a point of devoting my time and energy during this festival to find film screenings, learned from talking to others about the best methods of getting tickets (a labyrinthian process), have googled directions to bicycle to the various different venues. Was present standing outside among the crowds before the Palace Theatre in Potsdamer Platz – the hub of the festival – for the opening night red carpet, and have had the delight of seeing a number of films in which the directors and some actors were present to discuss their film following their world premier screenings. One can learn so much and get so many insights about life through the art of film – screenplays, directing, acting, cinematography and music. 

Just saw a very powerful film. Tomorrow Is a Long Time” (Míng tian bi zuo tian chang jiu) | Trailer | Berlinale 2023

Of which this trailer only reveals a tiny segment of layered symbolism and stories about human beings and the natural world.

Building the Instrument – Wind the Player

Feb 1st 1am my t8me, I was walking by the sporthalle and heard faintly music, I turned, no one around, kept walking, then heard it again. Masked by the noisy flag poles whipping in the wind, I’d hear nothing, then it would emerge again.

“Gale-force gusts warning” were indeed blowing against the glass surfaces of Max Schmeling Hall ~ the hall was the musical instrument ~ chiming in medium high pitches ~ and the wind the player. It was almost imperceptible, but I have good hearing, not just a good imagination. So, the building where besides sporting events there are concerts, was itself making music.   https://www.max-schmeling-halle.de

Weather report “Es treten Sturmböen mit Geschwindigkeiten zwischen 55 km/h (15 m/s, 30 kn, Bft 7) und 70 km/h (20 m/s, 38 kn, Bft 8) aus westlicher Richtung auf” “There are gusts of wind with speeds between 55 km/h = 34 mph and 70 km/h = 43 mph) from the west.” I was thinking to myself that it was 17 to 25 mph winds. I was a bit off.

I’m in the meantime trying to discern which direction to steer myself, rather than being blown by the wind.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Pet á Portrait ! Announcement

Animals Watering Hole Africa – Dec. 20, 2018 – the process

Portraits to go > Regardless of the kind of animal

Conscious Unconscious Choice delivered

So, when I mentioned a few days ago that ‘I know what I don’t want, but not what I want’, a friend from high school answered, “that’s your problem”.

In the meantime, 5 sunny days in a row I bicycled south of Leipzig to this lake, 25 min ride. Everyone bicycles in Leipzig, all ages and persuasions. At the Cossi See > lake, I found the first day a couple in their 80’s, naked, just having got out of the water. 59 degrees F outside max, with a breeze. I didn’t have the nerve that day, but a day after I got in, then the following a little longer, and again the following day getting my head beneath the surface, freestyle and backstroke (very limited time in the water), but did it. I then explored the Tierpark/Animal park where I’d go to on the way home, looking at and feeding leaves to goats, seeing other wild animals. I felt sorry for the owls, in too small of cages.

During my pondering over where to live, I was considering Freiburg after talking to my girlfriend in Berlin, she mentioned Vienna as well, so did another woman. Freiburg is small. I checked into Vienna, too large (although Berlin is larger, but familiar)…but I couldn’t make either of these moves. In the meantime, the hostel said they can’t continue to extend my stay. I moved to a smaller 4 bed room alone, after finding weird actions from one of the men in the 8 bed room. I feel relieved for that, but realized i had to step on the gas. I saw one apt in that town where the lake was, Markkleeberg, but it would become completely empty. Germans, as Italians, take all of their kitchen (all components) with them when they move; fridge, stove, everything. A tradition in my opinion that causes much more expense and hassle to the renters.

Now had a deadline. Had to skip a day of bicycling to nature….

….I began again in earnest, not to look for housing in Leipzig, but in Berlin. I updated my ads, WG-Gesucht, Ebay Kleine Anzeigen, Craigslist, and mainly put out my own ads. I had previously contacted people in WG’s > WohnenGemeinschaft = shared housing.

Then today eating my oatmeal in the hostel, I looked down and saw my phone had a call, i hadn’t yet turned the ringer on. It was Klaus. He had seen one of these ads, he phoned me saying he has a room. Previously he had rented it to a Polish girl. He has two cats. He spoke exclusively in German. Good that I can understand and speak it. I called him a bit later to make sure I had the name of the town correct, yes, Kaulsdorf, directly east of Berlin. 1 hour bicycle ride, 38 min. S-Bahn (public transport train line) to the station of this town. I later phoned him to get the address, and he told me, then sent it on the phone. 10 min walk from the station, 16 min. bicycle ride from the house to the 3 lakes by the town. That’s right. I’ve been going to swim every day and to watch and listen to the ducks, and there they will also be. And I see there’s a Tierpark Berlin which is a 25 min. bike ride from his address. 

So perhaps I was consciously/unconsciously choosing what I’ve adored, and after putting out all these new ads, this person found me. 

I then walked to the Leipzig HauptBahnHof (train station) and inquired about ‘regional’ train tickets to take my bicycle, and was given several alternative times, then walked down two levels below to purchase the tickets. I haven’t yet booked a hostel, but have informed this man that I bought the tickets and will phone him as I get on the train, he’ll meet me at that train station and then we’ll walk the 10 min. (google maps) to his house. 

I then walked around Leipzig today, without a bicycle, in the rain, taking some photos of the standing architecture of antiquity that wasn’t destroyed in WWII. I walked in a church and saw that Johann Sebastian Bach worked there for several years, creating songs continually, in the 1720’s, and taught singing… 

So, I actually looked and saw no other responses. He seems fine, gentlemanly over the phone. I haven’t asked him a price yet, I said €400 max in my ad. Also, though there are high rise buildings several blocks away, this is in a neighborhood with self standing houses and lots of trees. 

I feel immense relief, because I think that I really didn’t want to venture further away from Berlin, a city I am familiar with and know several people, and could once again play ultimate. I also put out ads looking for musicians. This man says that there’s WiFi there, hopefully it’s not merely via his telephone. I will wait and see. If I have to ‘commute’ 38 min. to Berlin via the train to go to libraries or cafés, to sit and work, I will. And bicycling home would be like going from Annville to Hummelstown. That was my guess, and it is exact. 1 hr 2 minutes, 11.4 miles. And from Berlin train station to Kaulsdorf bicycling is 16.9 km 1 hr 4 min.

So, I somehow believe that it will be a nice reverse, being in nature, then commuting to the city. 

Feeling relief, even though I haven’t met him or seen the place yet. 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Me in Berlin on Halloween

Homage to my mother’s birthday today November 2nd

2 weeks after my Dad is my mother’s birthday. I’m happy to recognize and celebrate her life. She was always outgoing, energetic, friendly and extremely conscientious about doing the right thing. I’m proud of all the things she was involved in and of all the activities towards helping others in the community. I’m proud of her achievements and happy to have learned from her. 

Up in the Air in northern Italy | Piedmont foot of the mountains

The lake was is what drew me to Avigliana through scoping out on google earth a town near a lake, that has a train station. And it has continued to pull me; to swim, to look upon the surrounding hills and lower extension of higher peaks further north. I find myself delighted to have had the experiences of swimming among ducks, watching them and other water birds dive to feed on algae and experiencing water birds and crows. I am saddened at the idea of departing from here. 

So, this is what’s going on, in my head. Having encountered all the obstacles I could find regarding locals renting to a foreigner; for less than a 2 year contract, who’s not a student…and remaining hinged here because of my love of swimming in the lake. I’ve suddenly done a complete dive into changing my direction. Speaking of diving, I am determined in 70º weather to once again swim in the lake today. Last evening was mesmerized watching these sea-like birds and then huge group of crows.

In the meantime I suddenly have been looking towards Berlin, Germany again, for housing. I found the music studio I remembered ‘Noisy Room’ and alternative (invite only) underground Berlin site and posted ads on each, as a bassist and backup vocalist looking for a band, who also needs a room. Then re-commenced the process of using a local Berlin housing site, combing through the room rental ads for their descriptions of the shared living situation.

Then via conversation was reminded of the route of going for a student VISA and found myself looking into Humboldt University matriculation and courses offered. And another conversation later talking about the homeless problem in the United States and my own, I found myself attracted to this interdisciplinary Anthropology lab at Humboldt with contributors of all academic degrees in the physical and social sciences, and suddenly was writing a proposal for an interdisciplinary launch into creating tiny-house communities with an emphasis on symbiotically incorporating the natural world towards clean sustainable housing, with a central focus on all resources – air, water, soil, ecological healthy – controlled by the people themselves in a commons.

And I’m hovering about whether to rip myself out of wonderland – or find a boyfriend or housemate fast (where I’ve found no housing) – I just met a guy last evening who had the chivalry to offer walking me up the midieval stone walkway to the hostel, and I’m going to tell him (google translate) ‘Non ho avuto successo qui ad Avigliana nel trovare una stanza, una camera, appartamento, un monolocale arredato. ‘

I started searching on a local Berlin housing website and already had several responses, more than I’ve had in all of Italy, a response from a person in a full on urban 11th floor room. Yet Berlin is a very green city, not only with the enormous amounts of trees and parks, but also has a great bicycle infrastructure, attention to their carbon footprint and also a lot of lakes. So I’m torn between staying here (if I can find a place to stay) or suddenly plunging myself into becoming a student with all of the bureaucracy it would entail, and making this 180º turnabout. Continuously in this half state of shock state of mind.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Dreamed last evening to post the current page 65 of the educational ebook I’m editing

I dreamed last night to post the current page I’m editing of my book. For one thing, I made it over the psychological hump of not having opened the book in months. Now I’m back in the swing, and perhaps wish to as much also display the kind of book I am writing. 

I was yesterday just checking links (in case any are broken and need to be updated), reading for content, updating the bibliography. I guess just to reveal that there’s a reason that this book has been taking an extraordinarily long time.

Below are pics referring specifically to page 65 in the educational ebook I’ve been researching, writing and illustrating “A Seahorse Tale – A Spin on the Matter of Motion”. 

The pics encompass the specific section of the Table of Contents in which this ‘chapter’ is located.

Plasma  |  Interconnectedness  |  Permafrost  |  Methane – Greenhouse Gas

Section of this particular page of the interactive TOC – Table of Contents – including pg 65

Each chapter includes several subjects which a student or class could choose to jump to independently to study these specifically, or the book can be read chronologically from beginning to end. Below are pics of just page 65. 

Each page has an image: art, science, graphs

Text links are red, Video links are green

I worded the links so that the subjects can be easily identified and created the bibliography in google docs so that the topics can be alternately arranged alphabetically, to quickly locate specific subjects.

Bibliography

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Bologna, Italy | architecture – food – street art & graffiti

Took my bicycle on the train and found a map, cruised around to locate various tourist attractions of the city and to see for myself what the man on the train was talking about, all the arcades – throughout the city is a labyrinths of arcades, allowing people to continuously walk beneath canopied sidewalks along a myriad of columned and arched underpasses.

This local man informed me of three culinary dishes that were created in Bologna:

1. Lasagna
2. Tortellini
3. Tagliatelle – he said one must order this alla Bolognese (a red meat sauce)

I dined (for a change at a restaurant) eating Tortellini with porcini mushrooms and red wine, while talking the entire time with a Swiss couple sitting next to me, in German, French and English. They reminded me that a portion of Switzerland speaks Italian in addition to the German and French languages.

In the name of rampant consumerism and capitalism

in the name of rampant consumerism and capitalism

As usual, I took a substantial amount of photos (107) which compelled me to take them.

Drawn to street art and graffiti, there were a variety of techniques.

Yes, that’s Queen Elizabeth – masked – a la masquerade

Moving to Ferrara, Italy | bicycle oriented town

Well, the guy blew me off, or maybe it was because I was late (after smoking with some Pakistani guys who were describing how limited the rights of women are in their country > ( can’t go out alone, can’t drive, can’t bicycle around in sport clothes with their hair flowing, once married – must stay home serving their husbands…said a woman my age in Pakistan would be almost incapacitated with health issues )…and I got lost making my way to the meeting point. 

However, what I learned from this Italian guy, after approaching him days earlier standing near me straddling his bicycle at the pier at sunset in Trieste, Italy to say that I am also a bicycle rider and striking up conversation, is that he mentioned a small city near Bologna, called Ferrara, with a remarkable amount of bicycle riders. Ferrara to remember ~ sounds like the car Ferrari, but also like the German word for bicycle Farrhad.

I dreamed about it last night, because I really am over living in a hostel and the continuous ~ back of my mind and forefront ~ stress over what to do and where to go. So this town popped in my mind before laying down to sleep last night and I woke up quite early (for me) in anticipation of what to do as my hostel accommodation stretched thrice will end tomorrow, to arrange things. Trieste is lovely in the pedestrian only ‘downtown’ places. However, when I’ve headed into the non-pedestrian hilly areas of this town, I am revolted by the loud noise and exhaust smells of motorcycles and frankly  frightened by the high speeds of motorbikes and cars. I absolutely need to live in a place that puts a substantial amount of attention and effort towards bicycle transportation infrastructure and caring about pedestrian areas. 

Translation from text above “View the routes directly on the map or filter the selection by type of experience and bike. You can then save the itineraries among your favorite routes.”

So, to check out what he said moments ago, I google translated bicycling = andare in bicicletta, and when I plugged this in with the town name, i got this !!!!! https://www.romagnabike.com/dove/ferrara. I’m immediately looking for trains to there, leaving Sunday. I will miss the water here. Google earth doesn’t show water near Ferrara, however the videos reveal water. In fact, I guess bicycle paths stretching to the water. When I plugged a random point by the Adriatic Sea, Taglio Della Falce, google maps says by bike it’s just under 3 hours. It is also very near to the river Po  as well.

“Renamed the “City of bicycles” due to the massive presence of two-wheeled vehicles circulating in the streets of the historic center, Ferrara is an unmissable destination for cycling and gravel lovers. Here you can cycle around the walls that embrace the historic center, take the Destra Po cycle path that crosses the silent Ferrara countryside, visit the Rocca di Stellata or venture on the dirt roads of the Comacchio Valleys in the heart of the Po Delta Regional Park.”

“Ribattezzata la “Città delle biciclette“ per la massiccia presenza di mezzi a due ruote che circolano nelle vie del centro storico, Ferrara è una meta imperdibile per gli amanti del cicloturismo e del gravel. Qui potrai pedalare attorno alle mura che abbracciano il centro storico, imboccare la ciclabile del Destra Po che attraversa la silenziosa campagna ferrarese, visitare la Rocca di Stellata o avventurarti sugli sterrati delle Valli di Comacchio nel cuore del Parco regionale del Delta del Po.”

By the way, there appear to be a large number of Pakistani men in Trieste. Apparently this city accepts foreigners more than other Italian cities. The really funny thing, is that having no Italian fluid speaking capability, I discovered that the mutual language I shared with two Pakistani guys was German, because one had lived in Hamburg, and the other in Berlin and Munich > Germany a country which has welcomed immigrants. 

https://www.trenitalia.com/en/services/travelling_with_yourbike.html

“On all regional trains – even those not marked with the special symbol – passengers are permitted to travel with a fully closed folding bicycle (even if not in the special bag) free of charge, provided that the size does not exceed 110 x 80 x 45 cm and does not cause danger or inconvenience to other passengers.” 

I’ve booked the train, a hostel for the first two nights and contacted hosts for a room in longer-term housing.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Trieste, Italy – Plan C | City by the sea bordering Slovenia and Croatia

I purchased the 9 € German countrywide regional train ticket (which I found out about in Portugal), using it the last day it was available – August 31st. Traveling with a backpack on my back, another on my chest, pulling a bag on wheels (with another canvas bag balanced on it in which my sleeping bag was obscured) with my left hand and walking my bicycle with the right hand. I wound up having to make about 8 regional train exchanges (then another Euro train, and another Italian train), rushing and successfully getting to the next platform at each station (with the help of a German student (about to study about sharks in Rostock to inform people that they are not dangerous creatures) twice and another time by an Iranian women (living in Norway coming to visit her Iranian boyfriend in Munich) with literally no minutes to spare. I stood most of the day next to my bicycle and luggage, to the border of Austria – Kufstein – then opting to go further to Innsbruck. 

The print out of the German regional trains to Kufstein, then to Innsbruck

My bicycle loaded on top among 5 other bikes on this particular train

standing room only on the train packed with bikes

In Innsbruck, I had to wait till the next morning to book a train to Verona, where I bought a beer to go as the bar was closing, then met and hung out with 3 young Ukrainian guys, smart and fun. One a pro (or amateur) tennis player. Then slept outside in an inner courtyard (where we had hung out and I went back to after we parted) because it was a 2nd hinterhof. 

Austria

From train through Austria

Austria from train

Austria from train

Austria

Brenner Base tunnel is being built for the highway to go underground through Austria

There were a lot of communicative people during more standing room only on this Euro line, where a lawyer and priest informed me that most of these seats were reserved, which is why myself and a handful of others were standing. This was a pleasant ride with lots of conversations. The lawyer/priest informed me that a tunnel is being built for the highway, to transport trucks more efficiently and reduce pollution.

I booked the morning train to Verona, deciding to spend more € for the  European Rail train ~ and it turned out the regional trains were not operating, people were instead transported by bus, in which case I would have been stuck with a train ticket and no capability of bringing my bicycle.

I then arrived in Verona, deciding to stay there rather than zipping by, because of the mentioned architecture and roman amphitheater. Oh my gosh, I was just purchasing my second cappuccino here at this hostel in Trieste, Italy (several days after leaving Verona), when a young guy asks me, did you ever find a place to sleep that night in Verona? It took me a half a minute. Verona? Sleep? How, what? Oh yeah, this was the only person who was a witness, coming up the 4 flights of stairs to the entry way to a hostel that had very little presence and no pleasant ambience, with one man there, a rude guy who was almost ushering me out after showing him that indeed I had paid for the room via booking dot com, but it hadn’t registered on his end. This guy, Sergie (Irish guy with Spanish father) moments ago here in Trieste, is on a similar trajectory from Verona, passing through Trieste on his way to Slovenia. 

The first hostel ‘Safestay Lisbon’ was fantastic, and this hostel in Trieste, equally fantastic with a great location, 24/7 staff, luggage room, bar, events, courtyard, pleasant and helpful staff ‘Hotello Hostel’ in Trieste.

So I had to think a bit, to remember that night, where an elderly native Triestian woman whose path I crossed twice trying to get to this hostel (who helped me to get there asking a young guy and then using her bus pass and telling the driver where to let me off before stepping off the bus). All the other hostels were booked and this was the last option. After sitting outside in their grass to eat the first time in 24 hours, and considering camping in their tiny yard obscured, until my cover was blown by a woman and her dog talking to me and a pock-faced man leaning out the window saying in Italian i can’t sleep there ( my sleeping bag already unrolled), I walked back to the center, energized. 

I decided to walk the other way from fountains in the plaza before the train station. The wheels were weighted down from the luggage bulk. I was half way dragging it. Left the bicycle locked before the station among other bicycles. Decided against the first grassy park, too exposed (human predators). Asked, an old man who pointed and said, hotel that way. Certainly not one I could afford. Walked through a gated off area, then turned around when I saw a path, where surely more people would be coming from that area and see me and my luggage clearly. I was going to cross the street to a raised patch of grasses, and opted to walk through an archway to find a better place to cross the busy street. Turns out this was in fact part of the building of the luxurious hotel. 

I spotted a wild cat jumping up onto a wall and this strip of green beyond it. The cat is the one who showed me the safe and more obscured place to lay down my sleeping bag. I can’t believe that this young man Sergie from Ireland moments ago asked me where I slept that night in Verona. Crazy the path of travelers, sometimes intercepting one another at hostels. 

I don’t even know the name of the luxury hotel that hosted my green strip, but was glad that it did. I woke up to a slight drizzle, that never became rain, must have been a passing cloud. Then in the morning, two women walking by as I was sitting up, one lifting her arm to admire her fancy new handbag, surely an expensive brand…I laughed at the juxtaposition.

my sleeping space on the property of a luxury hotel in Verona

A wild cat jumping into this space showed me the way

Energized with sleep, I felt compelled to walk with the luggage to the old town of Verona to see the highlights of the town, and managed to do it.

Verona Italy – Roman Coliseum, Juliet’s balcony of Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet

I have two video vignettes in which a very fatigued and blood-shot eyed Carol describes the voracious appetites of Italians for fashion. The street leading from the Roman amphitheater/ coliseum

Roman Coliseum

to the famous balcony of Juliet, in Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet,

Juliet’s Balcony

La Casa di Giulietta

is lined with classy, expensive boutiques.

Found a café to plug in my iPad, with fabulous pizza.

heart-shaped pizza

One-man show – chef and waiter

Chef showed me his particular ingredient to make the dough

This was the pizza restaurant’s bathroom – water hose instead of toilet paper

Then as I was arriving on the train to Trieste, an Italian woman sitting adjacent to me looked up on her phone the name and address of a hostel I had recognized from my search in Verona, but hadn’t yet booked. I walked there from the train station and there were VACANCIES. i purchased a cheap tiny padlock from the hostel (which the key didn’t open the 2nd time, and now have waited over the weekend after not being able to open it for a day and a half) to go buy a properly functioning padlock). Yes, more days wearing the same clothes…fine. There’s a more than adequately large  storage locker under my bed. I’ve instead been riding around the waterfront and downtown and attending the Maker’s Faire (science and technology interactive event), I went riding off in the fading dusk on my bicycle Friday evening, musicians everywhere, realizing how incredibly beautiful this city is, bordering Croatia and Slovenia.

Approaching Triest by train

Trieste, Italy bordering Slovenia and Croatia

Finally have accommodations. Bicycled across the waterfront to buy beer at LIDL packed with parked, rocking sail boats, and found a fantastic and humorous swing band about to start, decided to stay outside . This place was soon packed with locals, some great swing dancers on the dance floor where I stayed all night smiling, finding the town unbelievably beautiful. I believe I chose this town not only because it’s by water, but because the 19 years i lived in San Francisco, i ritually went to Café Trieste in the Italian district.

Trieste Italy- city by the sea bordering Slovenia and Croatia

The first day waking up at the hostel I met an Italian woman Francesca in my same room after waking up. She informed me about this Maker’s Faire (science and technology mainstream event), happening that day and the next. Open to the public and free. I went, feeling super excited and relieved. Very much on the same page, she informed me about many things (she has her own creative coop workspace in Firenze Florence).

She also informed me about Franco Basaglia, a leader in also a labor movement. There was going to be a manifestation/demonstration that day, Saturday September 3, by people in Trieste protesting the approaching abrupt closing of a factory producing engines for ships (I believe). 

I learned yesterday as I talked to more people (which I do regularly, approaching people and conversing with strangers, rather than walking around looking down at a phone), conversing with two Austrian couples where I had stopped to dance to a band the second night (1st person dancing alone before the stage which then became a crowded dance floor) after dancing with an Austrian man. I learned that Trieste had been a part of Austria, the Austrian Hungarian empire. One of the men mentioned the empire in which the sun never sets. I learned of the Hapsburg dynasty from the movie Dr. Zhivago.

The former Austria Hungarian Empire

I’ve been researching several new possibilities about extending a stay here in Trieste, Italy. I attended more hours of the Maker’s Faire, after spending hours writing and researching VISA related stuff, since a human being is not allowed to merely exist on the planet, but has to heed the demands of borders and national regions, something non-existent within the earth itself.   I learned of the School of music in Trieste – Tartini Conservatory of Music – talking to a guy in his booth, as I listened to the explanation of his design, took notes and learned of this school of specifically ELECTRONIC music. I have also spent years developing this craft, rather than having babies, with two different programs;  Propellerhead Reason making beats piggybacked onto Ableton Live. I spoke with one of the scientists in the ICTP (International center for Theoretical Physics) tent, to find out about who to contact for an informational interview. Could be the physicists need someone with creative and writing skills to communicate what they work on to the public. I may be able to finagle a way to extend a VISA by virtue of studying Italian and music, and working here. Always looking at options and alternatives – of which Berlin does not fade into the background – but remains a viable alternative ~ more is happening there. I like Europe, because there are places everywhere to hang out in public and sit, stand, dance, listen to music and basically watch and interact with people or watch sunsets….catering to quality of life and interaction, rather than insulated in their own cars and nose to the grindstone, with the sole emphasis of making more money to buy more things. The USA has exported that poison. However, I guess various cultures (particularly Italy) embrace style and fashion as a high priority and status symbol. I’m super turned off by it. And feel sad to see people of poorer countries try so hard to wear the cool shoes or sport the handbag, thinking that this is ‘making it’ and making them more desirable. I dance and interact with smiles and conversation, rather than material acquisition, as the main emphasis and focus in life.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Leaving Berlin to Italy – Trieste or a small town somewhere?

Rosenthaler Platz gegenüber von Sanct Oberholtz

I just went to the main train station to ask a few more questions and precisely figure out where to park the bicycle over night to find it upon arriving with my luggage on a bus, Turns out the train i had scheduled has a bomb threat and is canceled ( uh hum, glad I went there today) so the woman agent printed out a new starting point and time and new track. As if in a dream, part fatigue, slight edge of anxiousness, I went through the motions to see where i need to go, where the elevators are, preparing as much as possible so that it will flow in the morning. This is perhaps from the influence of my parents, or perhaps i am even more extreme about taking precautions. I scoped out where to leave my bicycle over night, near where I’ll get off the bus.

Postdamerplatz Berlin

I was able to meet with my friend whom I met and hung out with up until I departed from Berlin, 10 years ago. Great to catch up with Argentinian Mariano, doing well with his wife and daughter starting 1st grade. Still see things in a similar way and harmonious support. I am taking advantage of the last day of the 9 € regional train ticket, anywhere in Germany. Going this last day of Aug. 31st that it’s legit, to Austria by the border. Decided that I’d rather go there if I have to hang out with my stuff all night, than to sit in the Munich station. Then buying a regional ticket via Innsbruck to Verona. Still need to investigate a hostel, and where i might land. Gonna have to learn Italian, pretty quickly. 

Berlin is like a circus of activity. Soooooo many people in the streets everywhere, all night, presumably. Many tourists….blah, blah. The bicycle lane actually freaks me out. Super fast, super determined bike riders, along with those carrying toddlers in bike seats before them and in wagons. Love bike culture, but don’t love rushing, high speed,get over or get hit bicycling. Went to the freakin mac store where Hermann, 1 man show, is still operating very successfully. My bluetooth keyboard magically started working, in his store. He also informed me that one can buy an English keyboard in an Apple store. Good to know. Also got my bicycle very elegantly repaired with a Farrhad Doctor, Bike Doctor – Berlin (Fahrrad-Doktor – Berlin) Bicycle Doctor, literally situated blocks away. They found and exchanged the left gear fixture with one they had in stock that exactly matched the other. This also not a chain, but very small bike shop literally crammed with bicycles. You can’t enter beyond a rope. 

I was so happy to stroll through Mauer park on Sunday to see a street musician every 10 yards, the park full of people on a sunny afternoon and then coming upon the hundreds of people listening, singing along and dancing on the stage to the institution that Irish Gareth started bicycling with the speakers and hosting, MCing with comedic flair Bearpit Karaoke

Bearpit Karaoke

Garth from Ireland who has created this karaoke institution in Mauerpark Berlin, Germany

Now with my repaired bicycle (derailleur replaced from a bike at some guy’s house in Portugal) outside of Aveiro, repaired by not a bicycle shop but guy who is a machinist, creating shifting gears for automobiles. 

Sitting outside of ,Sankt Oberholtz, still owned by Ansgar and evolving and trickling into other areas.

Circus Hotel gegenüber from St. Oberholtz

Blue Heron in the middle of Berlin

I do love Berlin. And at the same time I’m sitting here looking up trains through Austria and Italy and finding that it’s easy to find the trains and schedules and all allow bicycles. 

And the trip continues.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Economic Reality Worldwide

I rushed off to Portugal, after determining a year ago that it would be affordable, so that I could complete my book. My oldest sister warned me that Lisbon would not be affordable, and sent me links to more affordable towns in Portugal. I hadn’t realized when I departed that august is the least affordable month in Europe, anywhere, and that the availability of rooms / vacancies in hostels etc. shrinks to nothing. I have been separated from my luggage, most of the time, except the first fabulous days in Lisbon at a wonderful hostel. Then I slept outside for over a week. Then i chose a random town in Portugal near the ocean, and have only once, for several minutes there, had time to jump in the water. I have been too occupied looking for occupancies. I found an expensive hotel there in Aveiro, and slept 12 + hours. Then there were no more occupancies there, or in that town. Same thing when I returned to get my luggage, no rooms. 

I found a remote hostel, an oasis in the dry Portuguese terrain, riding by swaths of formerly burned forests. Wonderful place, meeting enlightened people…and then I left, determined to live in a metropolis, as I mentioned, Plan B Berlin. However, Berlin is extremely expensive, little occupancy, huge competition….and the bunch of IT guys I met the first evening at a meetup, directly informed me of this…talking about how much they pay for a room (who can afford them and those who have pushed up the prices)…and that it can take 6 months to find a place because renters are protected by laws so that they simply rarely leave. I landed at a place after sleeping outside under a soviet military tank monument for shelter, and after sleeping 13 + hours, the stress I’ve had suddenly has made itself apparent in my body. 

This German guy’s coiffure I met at the U-Bahn pretty much says it all

I have an appt to see a place tonight, am absolutely grateful to have shelter yet now have more decisions to make about where to escape to, like a refugee, not of the climate, but of economic challenges. I just reached a wall emotionally, after discovering several possible places have slipped away, or are blatant scams. 

I will now go out into the town to use the resources of this city; replace batteries, get my bicycle fixed (bus driver jammed it into a space and the gears snapped). all along the way, I’ve had little successes, a derailleur that fell off, fixed by Portuguese men, the one key (the most essential one) for the bicycle lock suddenly appearing, after my key chain disappeared. And several people in town whom I can meet to say hello and catch up, (some who still have lived here, others who are returning in this exact week, to collect their things after having moved away a year ago). Several people have moved out of Berlin. 

Ukraine manifestation en Berlin, Allemagne le 24 Aout

August 24th Ukrainian demonstration ending at the Brandenburg Tor in Berlin, Germany

I more than likely must figure out a small town to live in where I can utilize a portable Glocal Me WiFi device with a local network, in an affordable town, either in Germany or northern Italy. Hadn’t realized that August in Europe is the least affordable with the least available spaces. I have hit a wall. I’m sure going out to do some errands and think as I’m riding, will help. 

Problems – one by one – resolved with right Intention

So, my arrival in Berlin, after the Russian man saw that FIXBus in Paris wasn’t acknowledging the Iberiabusline receipt for my Flixbus bicycle ticket which the annoyed Fixbus line Portuguese man had me pay, despite my repeated pleas that it was indeed a Flixbus line.This man approached me and told me the story of his Russian wife not being allowed to enter GB (and that he drove around with her for a wonderful 12 days and then drove across the border to allow her to enter England. He paid for a later bus from Paris to Hamburg, Hamburg to Berlin each with the bicycle sorted. It was not a FIXbus line.This assured me the ride to Berlin and allowed me to stay several more hours in Paris. I made my way to the other side of this woodsy park on a Sunday afternoon, dragging a heavy bag. I found a café restaurant open with a group of several families, from Cypress Greece I discoved. I ordered a cappuccino then rather than a breakfast, a pizza. It was huge, I ate all of it. I liked all the staff, my waiter and the (cat de la maison) of the house, who came to lounge on the chairs after the families left. They had WiFi, and one plug to recharge. The cat which appeared was not after  crumbs, he/she receives ample food. He merely wanted to lounge in the late afternoon on the empty chairs. 

Terrace Berry 102 Rue De Berry 75192 Paris

Terrace Berry Paris – Chat de Maison – Cat of the house

Sufficed with food, I headed to the bus, then had to sample the 2nd song that these local

https://share.icloud.com/photos/0343-Qkfc-UmDJH07_iEYzzQA weight lifter guys outside the underground bus station in the park, were playing French rap, as multiple guys choreographed their exercises, weights, swinging on bars rigorously, showing off 6 pack stomachs. Prior to this, after walking back and forth across the entire underground station, inquiring to numerous people about the missing keys, a lost and found, receiving only negative nods, that doesn’t exist, I spotted the black plastic top of what looked like my kryptonite bike lock key, which suddenly appeared after the 7th time looking at the same parking lot spots. What? No way? I hastily walked towards it, picked it up {broken at the top} and went to my bicycle. It slid into the lock! The most important item of the missing key chain. Unbelievable. Blessed!

I made it to Berlin via Hamburg. Upon arriving, I had to sit a bit, collect myself. Asked a group of police how to ride to Hackeshir Markt. The chief among them pointed to where I’d find Kaiserdamm, the main road past the Siegelseule towards the Fernsehturm and the Brandenburg Gait. I intended to make it to Montbijou park, where I read about a meetup that day, thinking I’d ask the group attending the BYO food, jam session, about housing. As I passed these tanks where years earlier I’d taken a phot of a 9 year old n the crowd before the Love Parade, sitting right in front of this displayed tank’s firing trunk and thought to myself, if it rains, I will sleep under the tank, high above the ground, protected from moisture, insects and hidden from people.

Plenty of people showed up for this event, which I finally located, after listening to a horn and drum Ukrainian orchestra band. Half the guys were in IT, half were of Indian descent. Everyone of the people told me how difficult and challenging housing in Berlin had become. And expensive, because of you guys in the IT business I pointed out with amusement.

Very much later, after 2am, I rode towards this tank, first eating my remaining food, sitting illegally at the outside tables of a hotel roped off, sitting befor the Brandenburg tor, where 4 young girls with long hair giggled taking selfies, then 4 young guys approached the same space.I chose one then the other tank, sort of hid my bicycle. Obviously not hidden enough. I slept slightly under the tank, a Russian monument to its military weaponry. I was woken up from a profoundly deep sleep 4.5 hours after laying down in my sleeping bag under the tank by a Police Officer saying loudly “Guten Morgen”! I slept on the concrete block displaying the historical Russian army tank, my first night in Berlin. There were no inexpensive hostels. I got up, out of my sleeping bag, put on my sneakers and jumped down to stuff it into its case. The police officer had walked away, but was still in view. I deliberately chose to not walk away, but right by him, up these stairs, I said “es ist nass” – it is wet, pointing to the grass – I was 5 feet up on a block of concrete, very dry. He answered, not grumpy, nor angry, perhaps slightly amused, “Es hat geregnet”. It rained.

I was going to go to the other side of the Tiergarten park, then changed my mind, and went back towards Mitte, wanting to find this bakery I remembered with great bread. Didn’t find it, but did find a spot to eat breakfast, then another place with WiFi and a girl standing up to leave the one table adjacent to an electrical receptacle. I had 2% battery left. 

The key had been found. Two days before when I felt a foreboding, bicycling the several miles over the mountain to a train station, where just as I was reaching he peak of the hill, suddenly my bike chain dangled. There were hardly any cars. One elder man sitting in a tripuck, headed in the opposite direction. He said there were houses ahead. I walked, coasted, then spotted 5 or 6 Portuguese men hanging outside a garage with several motorcycles and cars. I pointed to my bicycle. The one guy made it clear that he was   not a bicycle mechanic, but shied me he car gear mechanics he built. Yet, he looked at my bicycle, disappeared into his garage, came back with a screw, then another, which was the right size. In the mean time, two of the guys took off in the car, and he explained to wait until they came back. One of the younger guys pulled out his phone with google translate, and we exchanged some sentences. There would be a number of trains from Estarreja to Aveiro. I had time. My Flixbus was the next morning at 7am. Then the two guys returned in the car and handed the guy a rusty derailleur from one of their old bicycles. The mechanic took it apart, attached this also to my bike, adjusted the front part of it over the middle chain, and ai was now able to pedal – still only a third of the gears available since the first bus from Lisbon to Aveiro had snapped the shifter as he shoved it into the bus (after at first refusing to allow me on at all). When I thankfully went to my purse to pull out a 10€ note, the guy vigorously shook his head, no, no, he would not accept payment. This caused me to tear up, already sleep,deprived.

When I finally figured out where to catch the FLIXBUS, I went there to park my bicycle, prior to approaching the hotel where ai had left my luggage in a separate town weeks earlier, and then vanished. When I finally walked into the hotel, I was super surprised and relieved to be greeted by the smiling face of the young hotel desk guy who initially allowed me to clandestinely leave my baggage there, giving me three tags. He had me point out which was mine, because they were going to be bombarded with luggage. He told me that if I’d waited several more days, they might have called the police to declare left luggage and a missing person. He was very friendly, and told me the story of his life, his period of homelessness, then he ushered me outside, where he could openly tell me the story of how he got there. That he used to sell drugs. I said, what marijuana? He said no, all kinds. Then one day he returned to his apt which had been torn apart, in shambles, with the threat to pay 10,000€ or he and his mother would be killed. They gave him two days. His mother left to stay with another relative. He left within two hours with just the clothes he had on and 50€? He showed me a video of the music group he was in, of himself with short dreads, he had been the lead singer. He showed me the picture of another guy in the video who was in the band, who was the person who turned on him. He told me of his travels, escape, living on the streets, dropping his identity, that many of his friends still don’t know of his whereabouts. That eventually he turned his life around. That he was blessed when he arrived to this town, found the job, and an apt right away. Blessed by God for having the right intention. He left me with this uplifting story. My luggage had been safe. He accepted the 10€ note for having taken care of my luggage. Showed me the music video. Talked of being in a really good place in his life. Talked of his curiosity, of people he has met through this job.

So the bicycle was fixed in Portugal enough for me to ride it presently. The bus ride to Berlin resurrected by the Russian observer of the Fixbus corruption and the bicycle lock key found. And a German girl ( she and her boyfriend also had bicycles) informed the driver as he was about to leave without me , that there was still someone inside after the 10 minute break, where I brushed my teeth and almost missed the bus as he started pulling away. I call it FIXBUS, because only a few USB ports and electrical receptacles worked. The WiFimdidnt work at all. The drivers were far from customer service oriented. Another French/Portuguese woman teacher and her mother were horrified with their experience on an earlier FLIXBUS, when they had been left behind though returning to the bus in the allotted time and had to take a taxi and train, to catch up with their bus.

Now in Berlin, I’m in this café using the internet to explore northern Italy, which the Thai French speaking wine dealer woman at the remote hostel who consistently travels throughout Europe, told me that northern Italy, north of Verona, is the best place to live in Europe. Best quality of life, best educated people, most efficient transportation due to the influence of bordering Austria, and where many people ride bicycles. Then I saw today a message from one of he sons of my pastor in a palmyra, Pennsylvania home town who lives in Berlin, saying that he sent me a message when he saw that I was in Berlin,which I’m about to look at. 

Mass Delusion amidst Mass Disinformation and Fear-Based Distraction

Today, three of us had a very provocative conversation here at this hostel in the middle of nowhere ‘Now Here’ in Portugal; a Portuguese guy, an Argentinian IT worker I’ve come to know in the last week and myself. We talked about how the media uses fear to manipulate people, how Pharma companies have lied about and manipulated the entire world towards feeling fear and guilt about vaccines (along with truths about Covid-19) and how one very inexpensive and effective cure Ivermectin has been quickly denounced and silenced. We talked about cell phone addictions and ultra materialism….and that many of the political satirists, from George Carlin years ago foreseeing how the government and media are puppets to multinationals who are actually the elite in control. 

The Portuguese guy says that it’s almost the same as an authoritarian dictatorship, except that a tyrannical ruler has a face you can point to and blame, whereas this convoluted machine of money and power driving people to busily occupy themselves with just trying to survive with high costs and who are complacently consuming social media (addictively and incessantly) wind up not really questioning or even being consciously aware of the degree to which they are being controlled.

The NY Times has had one after another super frightening article in the last days, yesterday about Philadelphia being rife with guns and shootings, more than NYC or LA. And today an article about a MASSIVE PERFECT STORM that will at any time hit California. Not earthquakes, droughts or fires, but a brewing mega storm with water building from Hawaii, to the extent of the Mississippi river in the sky…and that when it hits the mountains of CA, it will bring biblical rains. This was in today’s paper. So though it may very well be true, the media does its job to keep people at a high pitch of fear and dread, because this is an excellent vehicle to control people.

The one guy was saying that George Carlin was so right on…and yet few people are aware enough to even question or seek to know. He and I have seen families, sitting with each parent looking down at their phone while their toddlers are acting out, simply seeking to get attention from a parent who sits there entranced, absent and unavailable to properly give the child attention.

I just made a list of (some) of the political satirists from whom I’ve been enlightened about issues, plus another Brit I hadn’t yet heard of till today, Ricky Gervais. If you haven’t listened to Russel Brand, Bill Maher, Trevor Noah, John Oliver, Jon Stewart, George Carlin, Bill Hicks, Hasan Minhaj… I suggest that you do.

They discuss truths in depth, which mainstream media averts talking about. And the three wealthiest men in the world – Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk and Richard Branson – who each coordinated their rocket launches with their massive carbon footprint, have the complete audacity to ignore the global warming occurring that is causing the massive droughts, floods, mass extinction, as if they are above it all and act with impunity with absolutely no regard for what is occurring on the earth – rather than using their money and power to instigate massive action to begin to heal the world, they are guilty for soaring mass delusion. 

What can we do about it? It seems not much. Except that the more that people become aware that our financial system is perpetuating our demise – 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0G6obeUKWmw&t=k166s – the more that the massive population  – and the industries profiting from misinformation and disinformation – and government officials who are millionaire pawns pocketing their gifts and continuing as if we aren’t in the middle of a disaster of magnanimous proportions – can hold them accountable. But as long as people are sleep walking and bent over looking down at their phones rather than looking up and speaking personally with one another, nothing will change. 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Humanity, on a piece of rock spiraling through space | Lisbon, Portugal

Humanity, on a piece of rock spiraling through space, wow! On day 9, when I arrived to a green space on the property of a university, I decided to sleep there, my sleeping bag tucked into a canvas bag to be more discrete about being ‘homeless’. The grounds had all these cats, really funny. Upon waking and standing up, decided to head up the hill, turned a corner to see that I was in front of the Prime Minister’s home, glanced across the street to see several cameras perched on the sidewalk. The Prime Minister was inside discussing the environment with another diplomat, and the journalists were waiting for him to appear.

Actually, it was about “decentralization process“, said Prime Minister António Costa at the signing ceremony of the agreement between the Government and the National Association of Portuguese Municipalities for the decentralization of competences in the areas of Education and Health, at the headquarters of the ANMP, in Coimbra.”

I left, then saw two blond-haired students towing their luggage, they told me of a hostel…then after investigating the gay man who owned the hostel on the ground floor of this building pointed me to a place to eat upon my inquiry, which he recommended.

It was a lovely environment, lovely food and ambience. Very well dressed, genteel clientele. Here in the café I interacted with a toddler and her parents, and later starting chatting with the mother. Turns out she and I have a very similar perspective and I really appreciated her opening up. She reminds me very much in attitude and spirit of the French woman I met in Montpellier, seriously.

 

kids across the street going on a field trip

When I left the café, in the heat i reached the park finally where I had intended to sleep the night before (which I never found) – fortunately – because it would have been closed > gates close at 7pm. Fascinating place, I walk in to see and hear chickens, then learn from reading the signs that it had last been a convent, and from an elderly local woman, that once it had lots of dogs in the dog kennels. Seems that the convent wished to make it a sanctuary for animals. I was amused to see the chickens walking around and clucking. They calmly tolerated the cats walking around. I had heard the peacocks with their strange almost human sounding screams, and in the dusty walks among parched vegetation, I then happened upon this mini oasis of water, with ducks and species of birds I didn’t recognize. I bothered to keep pulling out my ipad to take photos, decided to walk up these stairs, and there they were, the peacocks. https://www.lisbonportugaltourism.com/guide/tapada-das-necessidades.html “pink palace standing on a hilltop facing the river was completed just five years before the Great Earthquake of 1755, and was the only royal residence that remained standing in the disaster. Over the years, it was also used as a convent and as a hospice, which explains the cross that tops the portico. Today, it’s home to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and is not open to the public.”

Parque de necessidades

https://www.lisbonportugaltourism.com/guide/tapada-das-necessidades.html

what a treat!

I left as it was closing and decided to leave there and dutifully head back to Starbucks for internet to search for housing. I walked by and into a little terrace with music. I didn’t want to take pictures as a voyeur  although I really wanted to. A speaker sat in the dust. Three girls no older than 7 danced in front of a fountain, sort of doing a dance routine that was much more mature and provocative. I turned to see two women. They were in silk type long dresses, had dark skin, both had home-bleached blond hair, and appeared to have gotten married (the 2 women). They posed showing their tattoos on their ankles from the slits in their dresses. An obese woman in a flashy colored top sat facing the little girls, adjusting her false eyelashes that were falling off. I think these were Roma, gypsies.

Dj’d hang out by Santos Metro station Lisbon

Then bicycled along a path by the water, and then suddenly discovered an impromptu bar, dj’d with beats, very Berlin style with the mannequin. It was at a metro stop, right on the track platform. They sell beer and pizza. There was a massage table, some people sitting around smoking joints. Met an Italian guy who actually identified and recognized my X patch, asking if that was “extinction rebellion”? I was pleasantly surprised that he knew. 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Have been using this bicycle a great deal, even though Lisbon is very hilly

Urban Street Art, Graffiti & Design Lisbon, Portugal July 2022

The images speak for themselves July 2022 Lisboa

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Zero carbon output Bicycling | Only 1 Earth | World Environment Day

Today is World Environment Day.

So, now once in a while, while riding or stopped at an intersection with a lot of cars, I throw up my arm with full display of the zero sign.

Either like this.

Or like this.

Why?

Because

Because as I ride a bicycle and routinely look at road kill and feel the heat of engines and have to time my inhales to not breath fumes.

I say Zero!

I really am such a brat, as in expressing exactly what I feel.

The lyrics are not yet completed yet, but here it is so far; guess the idea evolved when I glanced at gas prices at a gas station.

Zero money

Zero gasoline

Zero carbon output

Zero fossil fuel use

Zero smell of exhaust 

Zero sound ….. just quiet

Zero pressure of time (can only go so fast) 

Zero body fat 

What’s more than Zero are the places I go in nature with only wildlife around and the muscle made in the process of locomotion and the joy i feel in riding.

What’s less than Zero is the heat and foul air I have to breathe when I go by an idling car or a vehicle flying by, and the chance of being hit by a car if I’m not fully anticipating people not paying attention (a third looking down at their cell phones while driving).

We have only one planet Earth

Only 1 Earth

Only 1 Earth

Only One

Young Adult Educational eBook | A Seahorse Tale – A Spin on the Matter of Motion

A Seahorse Tale  – A Spin on the Matter of Motion

Here’s the trailer uhoh, carbonmade appears to have ended their journey in hosting: http://spinonmatter.carbonmade.com/projects/4800092#1 !

Trailer – created in the very early stages of the writing and editing!

Table of Contents as of May 18, 2022 > Frankly, even these titles pictured below have evolved in the last several weeks of editing as of 5/30/22 in this final phase of editing.

you get the idea

here’s just one picture of the accompanying bibliography, where subjects can be searched by page or alphabetically by subject

one small slice of the bibliography of A Seahorse Tale – A Spin on the Matter of Motion

And a page of the book.

page 34 of A Seahorse Tale – A Spin on the Matter of Motion

https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/pbkzP5vYw6LGrPZD6

Happy New Moon – April 29, 2022 – Creation and Destruction – flowers, art & fire

the drawing i did with chalk on the table of a place i find delightful with its ambience every time I’ve gone by, conversing with different people. A boy with his father was drawing animé characters of the cartoons he does, and i drew (french beret style in the French café ‘Le Bon Lieu’ my cell phone series. 

30 second caricature of the cell phone series

cell phone series french style

new plant i purchased and bicycled home with from a local nursery (rather than the big BOX chains) 

Long’s Nursery 1347 E. Main St., Palmyra 17078 (717) 838-2931

Shade combination plus organic cactus and succulent potting soil

plant is beautiful consists of:

Hypoestes (Pink Polka Dot Plant)

Creeping Jenny (Lime green vine)

Trandescantia (Purple/Silverr Vine

Spider Plant

Begonia (flower) 

blossom i found bicycling by that fell off the tree, bloomed laying in water

yep, park my transportation in my room

Palmyra, PA residence burning 2am April 29, 2022

forgot, i saw a fire, that i smelled, and followed the billowing cloud and arrived before the 5 or 6 firetrucks

Happy Earth Day April 22 ’22 | GREEN a film by Patrick Rouxel | wedonthavetime

Trailer – Nature in the Race to Zero – We Don’t Have Time

birds at dusk tulip garden Pennsylvania April 21 ’22

Happy Earth Day in several languages

GREEN – film by Patrick Rouxel – Filmmaker for environmental conservation. His films are about giving a voice to the rainforest and the victims of deforestation.

“Her name is Green, she is alone in a world that doesn’t belong to her. She is a female orangutan, victim of deforestation and resource exploitation. This film is an emotional journey with Green’s final days. It is a visual ride presenting the treasures of rainforest biodiversity in Indonesia and the devastating impacts of logging and land clearing for the palm oil plantations and the pulp and paper industry.“

Patrick Rouxel writes on his website.

My films are about giving a voice to the rainforest and the victims of deforestation. They are both a tribute to the beauty of the rainforest and its wildlife, and a means of raising awareness of the suffering and loss inflicted by human development, corporate greed and consumerism.

I am driven by empathy and consider my films an act of citizenship, like a drop of water to help extinguish the blazing fires of destruction around the world. I make my films independently, free of all political, religious or commercial interest. I try to trigger change in our consumer choices and the way we behave toward animals and nature.

My films are either commissioned by environmental NGOs or self-produced, they are made possible thanks to the help of friends. They are copyright free for home viewing and non-commercial public screenings. They are available for free streaming on my website.”

Arabic

hehe Go Figure

et la français

thought i’d throw this in

Exponential Climate Action Summit V ~ Earth Day April 22, 2022 14:00 CEST / 8:00am EDT online | Green – a film on the devastation of the rain forest by humans

Exponential Climate Action Summit V ~  Earth Day April 22, 2022  14:00 CEST / 8:00am EDT online
Register free for online event on Earth Day

We Need to Restore Nature

We Need to Protect Nature

Nature in The Race to Zero

Nature-based Solutions

Dino Talks #1 (Nearly) Everyone says it’s Crazy — Why Do We Still Subsidize Fossil Fuels?

Inger Anderson Executive Director UN Environment Programme

“Let’s commit to a planet where people, animals and nature flourish together.”

the treasures of rainforest biodiversity in Indonesia and the devastating impacts of logging and land clearing for the palm oil plantations and the pulp and paper industry.

Filmmaker says ”Hoping to promote change in our consumer choices and the way we behave toward animals and nature.”

 

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Love – Loss | Life’s Treasures Hidden Fees

While in the last months war rages – despite worldwide pleas to stop Putin (le putain) and divest from Russia – it is part of the ongoing global geopolitical economic arms race. And in the last several weeks, mass shootings continue sprouting in different parts of the USA.

All of this shadowed by the recent devastating loss ten days ago of the super talented musician and drummer Taylor Hawkins, in the Foo Fighters, whose bandmates describe as having infectious laughter.

I am so sorry for the immense heartbreak that his family (wife 3 children) feel, and what his bandmates the Foo Fighters are going through, particularly Dave Grohl, for whom Taylor was like a soulmate and best friend, who experienced the suicide of his band mate Kurt Cobain, which silenced the band Nirvana at its height.

Dr. Drew who knew Taylor Hawkins well, talks about opiate addiction.

In the meantime, my life moves on. I was first going to write about a recent loss of a small object of value to me, a small dreamcatcher on my keychain since receiving it in Santa Fe, New Mexico. This was during this full moon weekend and a long excursion bicycling on a mt. bike almost 20 miles each way, to be among artists and musicians at the monthly event, the 3rd in the Burg. The highlight, was when the band I saw Friday night, Trevor Hall, did a Foo Fighter cover of Everlong, which I recognized in the first 3 strums of the guitar and bounced and sang with bliss and grief for the entire song. Dr. Drew who knew Taylor

When I returned on the trek to the metropolis to trace my tracks and find the dreamcatcher, I instead was informed that there’s a point where the dreamcatcher has to be incinerated (which I never heard of … he might have made this up in reference to letting it go). And that evening, as I walked on a brick sidewalk content in my heart, a tiny flower pedal as it was blowing in the breeze, caught and attached itself to a string dangling from my hat. It dangled in the breeze, at my chin, twirling 6 inches from my face. It would spin, then come to a stop, then start spinning again, revealing to me the play of the spiraling vectors of the breeze that are toroidal in nature, just as is the structure of space and energy in the zero point field. The theme of my book is the spiraling nature of the universe, on many scale dimensions. So this was an ephemeral gift, lasting a few minutes, that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone back to the city looking for the dreamcatcher. In fact, maybe the dreamcatcher sent this.

My treasured little dreamcatcher probably unraveled and broke free of the key chain, in my passionate dancing. Perhaps it knew that someone else needed it more than me. I believe that it chose to come to me (in Santa Fe, New Mexico) and chose to leave, here in Pennsylvania…setting me on a new path to discover.

And as my friend from the San Francisco days who does Vedic astrology, said that this full moon is about recognizing your own value and bringing out your gifts and pouring your energy into creating your own shining vessel of reality and wherever that takes you, while offering this gift to others and to the divine intelligence, that birthed your life.  What things of joy, beauty, function and value can you create that will be a gift to yourself, to others and to the divine intelligence in gratitude. How can we design our lives so that it reflects our most precious gifts, not only in the outer world, but within ourselves and our offering to others and connection to the divine. What is the service and devotion, and most valuable essence of our being, that we can create and develop?

I cam up with the title after the words. I guess, I’ll let it be poetry for each to interpret.

Avaaz campaign – Please Add Your Name – His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Nobel Peace Prize Laureates and Citizens of the World Against War and Nuclear Weapons

Please Add Your Name – in the name of Creation over Destruction!

Add your Name

https://secure.avaaz.org/campaign/en/no_nuclear_war_loc/?bFiJGab&signup=1&cl=19269047539&v=139472&_checksum=d7045cf3838a670f881d6ffacdc7b2423dcc3973997dc4c084f8aa9c140b46c9

Avaaz Campaign No Nuclear War No War at all

“His Holiness the Dalai Lama, IPPNW, and other Nobel Peace Prize Laureates are asking Avaaz and all citizens around the world to join this historic call to reject war and nuclear weapons — when it’s huge, it will be delivered to the Russian Federation and NATO:

The invasion of Ukraine has created a humanitarian disaster for is people. The entire world is facing the greatest threat in history: a large-scale nuclear war, capable of destroying our civilization and causing vast ecological damage across the earth.”

Who says that humans have the right to destroy whatever they please, in the name of what ever their short-sighted inclination happens to be?  I say, EPIC.

Earth Peace International Ceremony (EPIC) 

Happy Spring Equinox

Twas a spectacular sunset here in Pennsylvania. Spring Equinox sunset pics – March 20, 2022

Timing, Telepathy and Non-Local Communication

non-local communication and telepathy…

got ride from Palmyra in the morning with bike (with flat) in pickup to Hershey bike shop. Guy never arrived or  answered his phone, walked to main st. hershey found french cafe tucked away. Ordered coffee, used HotSpot to locate open bike shop Hummelstown… spoke to owner in french – from Maroque – and woman and daughter taking french, i told them about Putin le Putain. made sign Hummelstown one side, Derry St. the other, woman in SUV Jody, gave ride from downtown Hershey, mother just died, had severe alzheimers for 4 yrs, mother visited her Fri night, hospital called Sat saying her vital signs were regressing, she died, her mother visited her, saw her face, spoke (telepathically). flat fixed in 5 minutes, rode to Harrisburg on Derry st., got to office, filled out form, pd $20 and walked away with my birth certificate. Bicycled around by the river, then uptown a bit, rode home, stopped outside Hummelstown at this dilapidated property I’ve been drawn to numerous times near Old Derry rd. Made it back to see sunset and now perch at cafe to work (outside) with ipad, keyboard, light, electricity and wifi. stoked! So telepathy, communication non-locally….

Here are the pictures I took bicycling today March 14th, on the way to and from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

In Gear Cycling Hummelstown hitch with bicycle

In Gear Cycling fixed flat in 5

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Earth Peace International Ceremony (EPIC)

Instead of the G20, < EPIC > the ‘Earth Peace International Ceremony’ (EPIC) > a psychedelic healing ceremony guided by Shamans. Mandatory for all Global Leaders >

Not Davos < location > The Andean Jungle

I personally would rather than seeing troops and weapons sent to Ukraine, that Putin goes to a world criminal court and is convicted of deceit and war crimes.

And rather than building armies, have the leaders duel (but that’s too scary, depending on who would win). 

A much better idea > enforced participation in an ayahuasca ceremony with shamans in the Andes (with no devices or contact with the outside world) so that the ego would dissolve and the pride and posturing would just peter out.

(peter out = english slang = dwindle, dissolve)

Mandatory attendance by all world leaders: Hungary, Brazil, China etc.

Instead of the G20, the ‘Earth Peace International Ceremony’ (EPIC) > a psychedelic voyage into shedding the ego and communing with the spiritual beings within the substances, guided by a shaman …. and eclipsing the war mentality with an extension towards peace, and agreements to completely disarm all military.

Repurpose all military equipment and assign all soldiers of every army worldwide and populations into planting trees, gardens and R&D towards building renewable and sustainable transportation, energy and housing and working to ensure that Half of the Earth is sustained for habitat and health of other species. 

Followed up with mandatory bi monthly (every two months) participation in psychedelic MDMA, Mushroom, ayahuasca, mescaline, cannabis sativa, etc. therapy sessions.

Why? Because at 2022, after centuries (millennia) of humans battling with each other and degrading the planet and forgetting about all of the other inhabitants with whom we share the Earth, it’s enough. Basta! Have the world billionaires, contribute to a humanitarian spiritual enlightenment, instead of building rockets for joy rides. Earth First! Eco Warriors! 

I just joined this group today, which I just learned about. https://worldbeyondwar.org

One of numerous events sponsored /\ hosted by world beyond war.

Carol Keiter aka nomadbeatz welcomes donations for her writing, photography, illustrations, eBook and music composition. The PayPal donation button functions in Safari and Firefox, however is broken in Chrome.

Brian O’Leary on Free Energy – Stop the Drunken Binge on Fossil Fuels

Brian O’Leary on Free Energy and New Paradigms in Science

Spineless Biden | Subsidize the Planet Earth

when I listened to the powerful speech opening the COP26 by António Guterres, the United Nations secretary general today, and then read about Biden’s continued support of Big Oil…I could do nothing else than spew out these words. Still to be edited.

Spineless Biden

now you got me sighin’

now i know who you’re rooting for

that’s why we gotta go in through the backdoor

to the COP26 Backdoor that is cuz Time is Running Out

there’s no Planet B so listen up and hear us shout

role playing, carefully choosing words that are not the truth

not defending the rights of the people nor all the life on planet earth

you can ignore this and pretend that there is no cure

you must not have a conscience, that is for sure

because we know we got this, a very simple fact

that when people come together, under strong leaders, they can act

now we know where you really stand

allied to Big Ag that lays fallow all the land

allied to the Oil and Pharma industry too

it’s no surprise that you’re one of the few

more Billionaires made during the Covid year

and their incomes surging out the door

while the rest of the population and earthlings suffer

how can we possibly believe that you’d do any other 

with your words, you tread carefully 

to guard your finances and prosperity

disregarding the knowledge and truths of scientists

you’d rather pretend that you simply can’t hear this

Hearing the words of the UN Leader 

whose words of truth couldn’t be much clearer

we’re ruining the planet, our only home

and the habitat of animals and insects that once had a place to roam

the planet can feed us

life will treat us

but not when we’re enslaved to an economy 

that doesn’t appear to give a fuck about reality

we all know that we’re ruining the earth and leaving it to spoil

you bury your head in the sand and ignite your pipe with the flames of your buddies in Big oil 

you know as the UN leader has said

that we’re fucking up the planet until everything is dead

you can bend over to pocket more money

from the industries that drill and dig and take for themselves. all the honey

if you’re only listening to the GDP as the measure of wealth

you’re leaving out a big part of the picture – the planet’s health

you can shout the ‘more jobs’ banter and pretend that it’s more important

than caring for your elderly neighbor or the welfare of an infant

if doesn’t matter whether it’s human, insect or bird

they have a right to life and are sacred, or haven’t you heard

the human weakness is to only to think of himself

and not give a fuck about anything else

we can all change this

I know we have it in us

we need to stop being isolationists

and put our efforts to the test

now the air, water and oceans are polluted

and all the nutrition of the soil has been diluted

chemicals made to kill the soil

fossil fuel industry ignore their harm and only care about more oil

buddies in the industries that annihilate life on the planet

guess your bending over so that you can reap some of the profits

that’s why we got to sound out the alarm

and visit the COP26 Backdoor to learn about the harm

a life is a life, whether amphibian or insect

a tree is as significant and as the time ticks

we may be losing it all because of not caring

yet we know that we can turn this around with information we’re sharing

no time to put up walls or borders

just because they are allegedly government orders

the climate has no borders and mass extinction has no clue

about what a leader dictates, if it is not true

FDR knew this, he wasn’t spineless

he created the WPA – Works Progress – and that was timeless

he got people together to act in unison 

to build back a better place, than the one that they were left in

we know that this earth could be a paradise

we know what to do, time to stop rollin’ the dice

acting together, sharing expertise and inspiration 

joining together all over the globe to share the perspiration

leaders bending over to industries that slice, dig and plummet 

the land, the waters and all the life, that’s why we have this summit

but if nothing changes in 26 years

most of us who are not idiots, have a number of fears

that things going the same way, protecting the status-quo

is something that needs to be addressed, these leaders have got to go

demand accountability for the industries that leave their garbage in the seas

we already know that our carelessness and negligence is killing the birds and the bees

we know we can do this, sharing information and compliance

being guardians and stewards of life on this planet is not rocket science

humans need to think beyond their own borders

the reality of global warming isn’t listening to your orders

you will be remembered in history now

as just another party man who threw away the plow

if droughts, fires and floods aren’t enough of a warning

guess you think climate chaos has nothing to do with global warming

yes climate change is human induced and that’s only part of the story

we slice and dice, dissect and fracture the land that is animals’ territory

isn’t it about time to think beyond your own self and foes

and have the ethics and morality to bring this industrialization to a close

we already know what we have to do

we have the ingenuity and the tools too

there’s only one thing stopping the human population

from doing what’s right across all the nations

we know the earth is rich and that it can feed us all

it’s up to us to hold those accountable and stand together tall

shame on you Biden for not even tryin’

if i didn’t believe in the minds and hearts of many, you might have me cryin’

i’m wondering how you can honestly feel

to say what you’re saying and believe that it’s real

now’s the time to create a new brand

banding together to protect our land

to do what’s right and nurture the habitats of life across the eartth

and live in harmony, subsidizing the health of our planet first

let’s do this! together!

Tribute to my mother – Lois Vivian Johns – on her birthday November 2nd

It was in Philadelphia that my mother met my father

Yes, it’s that time of the year again. Today, November 2nd, is the day my mother Lois Vivian Johns was born in Pennsylvania. 

I thank you for providing me with all that you taught me and influenced me to speak my mind. 

She was a fiery spirit. Always had a lot of energy and drive. She would also tear up easily, she had a lot of compassion and allowed herself to express her emotions freely, that were close to her heart. 

James and Lois Keiter loved one another and were devoted to each other

She and my father met when they were both attending school for medicine at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, PA. Their birthdays were just two weeks apart. They were born the same year. She was valedictorian in high school; student, typically having the highest academic achievements of the class.

They shared their joy of music and dancing, of nature and doing physical sports (she was a golfer, tennis player and skier). She prepared healthy meals for her family of four children. She and my father enjoyed art (creating and admiring) and culture, with th

Lois Joan and Carol

I am proud of you Mother. A women who always asked others how they were doing, and never, ever complained about her own self. She simply continued to always move forward and have a lot on her plate, to contribute to the community. 

We always had animals. A love of nature was always present. She maintained a beautiful home, with decorations, flowers, the work to maintain the lovely outdoors part of our property. She always put effort into maintaining things, and loved to read and keep her mind occupied with challenges. 

My parents together planted 50 trees on their new property (which was a treeless hill with only wild flowers. They created a mini forest wonderland that brought me into the world caring immensely about other creatures, and  biodiversity.

Halloween in her 90’s

I appreciate and respect you very much and certainly am proud to have you as my mother. 

Dancing with her grandson in law Wes Hornig at his wedding to Megan Keiter

outside trimming flowers on her property

Lois and her daughter Carol at a luncheon at the Lebanon Country Club

I mist you!

Hallowed Autumn Beauty | Scary ambience of War Games | Halloween day

Scary war games on an otherwise peaceful hallowed Halloween day º October 31st in Pennsylvania, USA. Blustery clouds and gusting winds sculpting the sky and light. Long shadows, low beams of light. Catching small patches of fields left to be wild, interspersed with tamed mowed lawns; nature torn apart from itself. 

It would have been an otherwise perfect day except for the methodical bomb blasts going off perpetually for several hours coming from Indian Town Gap 11 miles away. These low rumbles were replaced with consistent loud metal sprays of gunfire at a closer range, the State Police Academy in Hershey. I guess a Sunday Halloween afternoon is as good a time as any to practice for battles. 

The colors, patterns, light contrasts and nature that I saw, kept making me stop.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/WBiMqcVBY94rfHJB6

The deer I saw was followed by two more a couple minutes later. I was going to visit the horses and donkeys, who know immediately when the deer are nearby.