CONFESSION ZERO

Had a conversation with a young man, seventeen, violinist. We talked of the One Note, the note of One, Love and Peace as One, unattached but within each to the other's fullness. He was curious, his spirit was vibrating the notes of the violin, the One Note I grabbed ahold of and danced any fear away from its quiver. I said that he should find out where his instrument come from, (Germany), and once you find it's country of origin, trace who made it, who put their love into, their forgiveness set to quiver inside of their truth, the string maker, the tuner, the music, the note, the composer, the thought, the idea, the One Note. He was curious when I told him that I was Peace. I told him it was not a name, it was a duty. Same with Forgiveness, Love and Laughter. Goodbye, One Note, it's time your symphony began in earnest the music born within you. These words will come along with them, this song written as a story by the next one to imagine it is real. It is true, rea...

The boy who cries in the photo is Diego Frazao Torquato, who played the violin in the String Orchestra of the Afro Reggae. Afro Reggae is a non-profit organization that gives kids hope and an escape from their impoverished and crime ridden environments. The occasion was the funeral of his social project coordinator, Evandro João Silva, who was murdered in downtown Rio. Diego contracted meningitis at age four, aggravated by pneumonia, and struggled with memory difficulties. He still managed to learn the violin. Diego, born and raised in the slums of Parada de Lucas, dreamed that the violin would take him to see the world. Sadly, shortly after this photo was taken Diego died of leukemia. At Diego's funeral José Júnior, the coordinator of Afroreggae stated, "I think the legacy of Diego is hope, it is the willingness to change, to transform". Photo Credit: Marcos Tristão Full story: http://tinyurl.com/c3b4yjd ~ The strings vibrate with Love's story. Listen. Wi...

It makes its way to me in prayer, this spirit of my dance. It isn’t the man I became, or the many I’m with in dance, by prayer, by chance, by fate, by sanity, by simple reasoned explanations- maybe it’s all a dream…? I’ll go with Love and place within her my Heart(H)… The birds and breeze, the sky and sun, the sounds of Heaven soaring over man’s noise, the perfect accompaniment for what I have to say. (The violin floats by as the songbird summons her aria and the wind lets its presence be known…) Let me begin to pray to what I know and not what’s made from thought! Prayer is Love’s scribe and God’s unwitting stumble… Take back my mind! Snatch it back, it's been snatched! Take it back, the key to Love’s door's within your grasp... (Quiet your mind, Mark, and joyfully help to create Love’s masterpiece!) Oh! Rejoice and make history! (Better make your fear history, too.) What is this squat word that brings man to trembling on his knees? (God?) I meant fear...