this is… The Neighborhood
the Story within the Story
A Star is Born RD V: All Around the World & The Neighborhood Award
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Welcome to Round V: All Around the World of A Star is Born. My name is Kendall F. Person and I will be your host. Each of the remaining nominees was asked to host a nation and deliver a performance either in imitation of or honor of their Arts Culture. Opening up tonight was Anew(Duo) hosting the USA. And next up is Charles Okpere hosting Ghana.
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My version of events from the past in the gold coast; orchestrated by a leader that was never preoccupied, and completely understood what it meant to free a people from a prison without bars. This might be presented with an undertone of plenty sentiments but I bet this should be a complete example for other ‘recuperating’ African countries. Many African rulers, dictators, head-of-state or whatever you choose to describe them; have come and gone. Few; worth remembering, while others, I would act like they never existed . Jerry .J Rawlings of Ghana remain one of the few past African leaders worth a resounding discuss. Having a refined socio-political orientation and advocacy of what leadership should be all about; he helped changed the socio-political and leadership landscape of the gold coast; with a style that brought the whole of Africa to a stand-still. Prior to J. Rawlings rule, Ghana’s post – independence history was practically characterized by long periods of military rule, marked by gross human rights abuses. Jerry J. Rawlings was instrumental in the two most ruthless and notable coups of Ghana; as he felt the post – independent Ghana had become a period of post – independent disillusionment occasioned by social system inefficiency, corruption, rot and the neglect attitude of the officials to the sufferings of the common man. As this period of post – independent disenchantment progressed, J Rawlings, a lieutenant in the airforce and a militant populist along with other young military officers became distressed by the perceived corruption of the officials and drastic declines in the Ghanaian economy. When the running regime legalized political parties early in 1979,the young enigmatic J. Rawlings emerged as a spokesman for a new populism that was sweeping Ghana at the time. He gained a wide following among the people, among the common man. The regime of course found reasons to silence him. He was clamped to jail. But he did not languish for long as his tactical confederates in the military secured his release. After Rawlings release; through a radio station announced he was forming an armed forces revolutionary council to oust the corrupt and ineffective regime. The ever enigmatic and controversial Jerry Rawlings quickly abolished all political parties and established a new one which he headed. For years, he made Ghana a one party state. This was to cut all Unnecessary distractions in his attempt at rebuilding the country. However, not sooner than later, he was accused of dictatorship but I guess his persona, would have being the leverage that made the international community buy the idea of his “dictatorship”. As a humble, sincere and charismatic leader who listens to the voice of people, he set about returning the country to complete decorum, something the ‘Westernized West’ would prefer to call democracy. Rawlings instituted people oriented programmed. Improved human rights record Guaranteed the freedom of expression, as well as the freedom of press. Ultimately bringing peace to Ghana and was an example to the whole Africa. There was and still is the existence of civil liberty groups in Ghana and all these was occasioned by a people friendly president . More remarking of Rawlings leadership credentials, was that, all his successes came at a period when other African countries were grappling with civil war, political killings, military coup and counter coup, ethnic marginalisation, endless protest, Corruption of the highest order, power drunk office holders and their senseless hold to power. Rawlings leadership skills was one big example to all African leaders. He represented a breed of socially conscious patriot A political crusader whose commitment to humanity and offering of sincere leadership is unrivaled. Thus, it can be said, that the history of modern Ghana politics is the history of Jerry J Rawlings legacy and footprints for all erstwhile impoverished African country.
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Tribute to Nigeria by Kelly Lewis
Art by Issac Willie
Oh Nigeria, you’ve taught me to believe in something much bigger than me, you brought the meaning of community and wealth by investing in family. The descendants of the Mother Land continue to rise despite the teardrops and bloodshed spelt on fertile soil during the darkest of times its people prosper and shine. Fasting for human rights and studying many lessons throughout long days and nights for a chance that might unite the world in peace against the political fights. May the “Giant of Africa,” forever be blessed with bountiful resources and beautiful people adorned in colorful attire that compliments bright, welcoming smiles. Everlasting is the ancient works of art that paved the way to creative starts impressing upon us with permanent, influential marks of literature, proverbs, poetry, and music spreading the word. Oh Nigeria, thank you for delivering personal ties and bringing strong values into my life, which allowed me to see the world through another pair of eyes with no lies…as it is.
Ladies & Gentlemen, we are proud to present the 2015 The Neighborhood Award – our highest honor.
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Falling Star: An Artists Collaborative Goodbye
Dark Flower by Saida
It is not as if Anew(Duo) is lacking in a loyal fan base, the initial announcement of their nomination, saw an explosion of excitement, for this contemporary gospel group. But something happened this week: lack of campaigning, minimal fan outreach, or none of the above, but here or somewhere else, it should be analyzed, as they are much too talented, to one day find themselves, pondering the what-ifs. While not required, the absence of Crystal is a distraction that is easily rectified.
from Chicago Illinois, Anew(Duo) in a song so beautiful and supportive, it tends to provide the strength needed, even when we feel like giving up.
I’m Sorry the lyrics by Anew(Duo)
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The generation of Summer Rose is different then the ones before hers. To greater or lesser degrees, many are filled with an independence so literal it becomes reckless or wasteful. To this day, she has never asked for or accepted assistance of any kind, like fan outreach and voting blocs. Some may say, and point taken, look how far she has come. But I have said, “You were an alternate, and yet you have outlasted 4 Artists who were voted over you in the first place. And if you don’t believe by now, you can with this whole thing, you probably won’t change your opinion in the next two months either.” So incredibly talented. And so independent, that she never realized that she is still learning her craft, yet she is surrounded by masters of their art. But I am so glad she took part.
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Send in the Clown
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Falling Star Delayed as Panel Scoring is Washed Away, the Inner Council Implodes, While Audience Waits
There are always solutions,
but first we must define the problem.
John Doe – The Neighborhood’s Newest Artist Arrives with Fresh Attitude and Becomes The Underground’s Rising Star
A Star is Born Hits its First Snag: Judges Panel Sees Scoring Wiped Out, The Neighborhood Inner Council Implodes/Rebuilds, Viewers Join the Ranks and the Nominees Demonstrate Why They are the Stars
On December 31, The Neighborhood turns 3 years old, and while the imagination is bigger and the artistry is better and the fans still do come, as a collaborative, the failure to add structure, as any organization would, lands squarely on my shoulders. When The House of The Neighborhood moved toward collapse, the assembly known as the inner council, begin to jump ship faster than said ship, filled with water. But it was the first artist overboard, that also restored order, when first lady IvySoul Robinson was the first to reconfirm her commitment, the circle tightened, and a stronger council emerged, that I shall not forget.
Top and bottom, the combined vote had spun out of my control, facing a calamity of loss integrity. If the ship could not be set right from wrong, the ripple would soon swirl into an inferno, that threatened to bring down The Neighborhood’s most popular show. But that would never happen. I turned to the Nominees, the stars of the current production of A Star is Born, who without question, accepted their newly created roles, demonstrating further their professionalism, commitment to excellence and acceptance, that they were in control of their own destiny.
The Judges Panel has reconvened, I have grown in wisdom and understanding, the Council has been downsized considerably, even saying goodbye to long term composer, Renan Javier. But none of that would matter without a proper address to the viewers and fans, waiting so patiently for answers. And what better way to demonstrate our respect and love for their support, then to include in new process, then build the viewing audience via proxy – into the show.
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Summer Rose and Anew(Duo): Down to the .00s, on all scoring cards combined – in a million to one long shot, in a remarkable photo finish, that ended in a dead heat for last.
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How Round IV Will Now Be Decided
5 Groups: 1. Council 2. Judges 3. 5 Public Members 4. Me. and 5. The Nominees
Each group gets one Vote and one Vote only. By Tuesday 6:00 PM PST/9 EST each group delivers their collective decision. The 5 votes will be counted – and Star Turn’s victim, will be the odd man out. (I have already voted, sending my decision to an uninterested 3rd party).
So as we exhale from an exciting night, and a rollercoaster of a day, it all comes down to a game of 3 of 5. Immediately, following the count, Summer Rose or Anew(Duo)… will be thrown from the stage.
A Star is Born – Round Four
You just wait. I’m going to be the biggest Chinese Star in the world. – Bruce Lee
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Good evening. My name is Kendall F. Person, creator of The Neighborhood and host of A Star is Born. It has been a while since the Artists – also known as the 2015 Best Performance of the Year Nominees – have taken to the underground’s biggest stage, so we wanted to give them plenty of room and freedom, to deliver the type of performance, worthy of a Star Turn.
Each Artists was given the same 3 tools: Voice * Images & Words. How they spun their tools, using only their imagination and their craft, was completely up to them. Summer Rose lost her voice, but I think you will find she was crafty in how she made up for the loss. No particular order – VOTING BOOTH LOCATED AT END OF PRESENTATION (VOTE UP TO 3).and now I will get out of their way.
A Star is Born: Round Four – Star Turn
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Being able to express yourself in an art form is such an amazing feeling, especially when people start to enjoy seeing it – Summer as Indestructible
Indestructible
Indestructible
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Ever read a short paragraph from a good article, done with words that seem to melt together to form a hint of perfection; An almost astonishing symphony that leaves you wanting more; One word after another slowly unveiling the pale grandeur of the ever twisted, yet sane human mind. This same words could be turned into moving pictures, but this words seem to be perfect the way they are; words with no intentions to describing a tangible universe. It’s just mere words strung together in perfect harmony. Something I refer to as “cool” creeps in; “I was born to do this”. But at the end of the day I discover that; life would always be demanding, regardless the wishes and big dreams we keep gathering. Whether you are a widely successful writer, an aspiring author or just a man with a dream.
At every junction leading to the post of “happiness”, it’s easy to figure out we are just ordinary inhabitants in a society that requires us to keep building for the “them” more than the “us”; A society that always wants ‘positive’ results even when it clearly runs in the hamster anti clockwise wheel of productivity;a society where one job can never be enough; and the individuals within its confines, pick as many job as possible, so as to they all could flex the muscles of that overrated fiscal power, which ultimately makes our dreams and passion slip down that priority list.
I ask myself; Shouldn’t I accept that process of growth, that time span; where I evolve into complete beauty; that magnificent masterpiece ; celebrated by not just myself but by the world around me. That point where we see all instant gratification as useless ‘cos there is always work to do. I don’t think I can possibly come to appreciate what matters to me, if I don’t spend much time with with it. I am just hoping you share in my “silly sentiments”.
It’s a fact; there would always be the hard and ugly times, the tragedies and unlucky days, the pain and bitter melancholy that defines our different moments. But the wise ones use this period to create ‘alone time’, even in the most crowded of places. Building defined articles and essays with every piece gotten; unknowingly answering questions of a deprived few; this writers do have dreams of their own, they look for a future that would be completely defining; so they face their business squarely.
In those little alone time; we bleed and cry and demolish and rebuild with only what’s available. As a writer, I figured life is an experience, more like a journey; so I take my time to be clear about my dreams, not getting carried away by the fact that his present day existence is an inspiration to people he has not met and might never meet.
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Perspective
What it boils down to is perspective
A personal point of view
In a world of interpretation
Individually, we get to choose
Head down that beaten path
Fail to look left and right,
And you’ll be knocked on your ass
Cause it’s never black or white
Veiled in the obscurity I can see
A world of mystery and intrigue
Gaze beyond your instincts, I plea
Please rid us of the evil insanity
Might we observe from another angle
Catch the light, so that it can shine
Brightly, illuminating all its beauty
That implores in the restrictive confines
Then it would seem almost apparent
The eye of a storm respects her space
Never to drown the pink petals inherent
Serving her with dignity and grace
In the wrong light she’s badly perceived
Within the realms of what we each choose to believe
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“Mrs. Lemke, you need to rest.”
“No.” I whispered as I stood above my baby.
An unnatural shade of blue light splashed over his tiny body and reached out to the ends of the room. Nothing escaped it’s grasp.
“Rest, please,” the NICU nurse pleaded, “he’s alright.”
My voice was edgy as I snapped, “Then why the fuck are we here?”
Convinced I wouldn’t be sleeping, she left the room quietly.
I moved my chair up to the tiny clear box that held my son.
I sobbed as I sang to him and held his hand.
His body was covered in wires and the doctor had placed blinders on him to protect his eyes from the phototherapy.
Alarms blared, filling the room with tension. I quickly checked, my son’s vitals were stable.
The alarms were coming from the monitor of the little girl next to us.
The nurses flew into the room and began working on her.
They finished administering medication to the other baby and carried on as if nothing had happened.
It was time for my son to eat, they said. The nurses began shutting the lights down, plunging the room into darkness.
He was delivered to me as we sat by the nurse’s computer and they prepared a bottle of pumped milk for him.
As I held him, he opened his eyes to look up at me. They were a darker shade of yellow than they had been when we arrived.
“I thought this was supposed to get rid of the jaundice?” I motioned to the lights as I became hysterical.
The nurse, Patience, came up behind me and held my shoulders as I wept.
“It will.” She said, “It just takes time.”
I sat there for hours, rocking back and forth and staring at my 3 day old baby.
This couldn’t be real, I thought. How could this be real?
The sun rose outside the window, penetrating the room with light.
I stood by the window and watched the rest of the world keep moving, without us.
I don’t remember much of the following days or when we were discharged.
I know I fought for him, and I know he survived.
But part of me didn’t.
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Voting is Now Open – Vote up to 3
Polls Close at 10AM PST/1PM EST Monday NOV 9TH
4 Reasons to Begin Writing/Filming/Recording the Story of Your Life
Intro
In northern California, the various microclimates can be extreme. Extremely hot inside the valleys. Extremely foggy along the coasts. And an extreme amount of snow in the Sierra Nevadas. But this time of year, mid-Fall, the north state’s weather reaches a near consensus. Beautiful sunny days, clear cold nights and the anticipation of rain to mercifully bring the long dry season to an end. But along with the debut of winter clothes and piles of leaves, that are in constant flutter, as they fall from trees, comes the holiday lights and Christmas trees, and travel plans and Thanksgiving dinner and shopping sprees. The Kings and Warriors will be added to our calendars, already occupied by Raider Nation and the 49ers. There will be parties and shows, events will come and go as this tends to be a busy time of year.
And rather we like it or not, when the temperatures drop, we are reminded of our homeless citizens, that seem to blend in or disappear during the warmer time of year. We are reminded because we cannot look away or pretend they are up early, enjoying a walk before the sun blazes the streets holding walkers at bay. Because rather we think they are lazy, or shiftless, addicts or bums, when we see them shivering in the morning air, we are reminded of our humanity and that we are our brothers keeper. So even if we avert our eyes, our hearts cannot look away.
The sandman bypassed my abode another night, and rather than toss and turn, or make an attempt at a useless fight, I decided to go for an early morning stroll. The moon was still out, the darkness had yet to yield control, and the temperatures hovered just above 40F. Halfway along my course, I walked passed a homeless man. He was an older gentlemen, perhaps in his late 60s, but difficult to tell. His clothes were old and worn, but they were not dirty and while he shivered in the cold, he made eye contact during our brief exchange. He did not ask for a thing, just nodded his head and I returned the nod with a good morning. “Getting, cold.” was his response. He let out a quiet cough, then resumed his train of thought. I wished him well. Prayed he was okay and as I walked away, I wondered if somewhere in his bag, were the worn pages of his autobiography.
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My Life
by Mary J Blige
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4 Reasons to Begin
Writing/Filming/Recording the Story of Your Life
by Kendall F. Person
Four – Snowflakes
Snowflake macro: machinery of winter by Alexey Kljatov
It is thought that no two snowflakes are exactly the same. Difficult to fathom, but not impossible to believe. And the same holds true of human beings. There are no two people with the exact same dna, less identical twins, but even they grow and develop in their own unique way. While there are bound to be similarities in our autobiography, in some chapters, I imagine, word for word, it is the subtle differences, like our perception of or reaction to popular events, is what makes us an individual, yet our story a part of society. Most importantly, the story of you is what will make it special for generations along your bloodline, allowing the family historian to create a forest built out of the family tree.
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Three – the Butterfly Effect
Only in our dreams and in motion pictures of make believe, can we go back in time to right a wrong. But even then, changing history is risky, for the ripple effects could have far worse consequences than the original deed. But what if someone you knew, a child, a best friend, was heading down the path of self-destruction, a road you are familiar with, and have recorded it chapter and verse. What if the mistake they are about to make, can be prevented by the power of the written word and those words make up your autobiography?
On March 13, 2005 the largest manhunt in the state of Georgia’s history was peacefully brought to an end, when the hostage of the accused murderer began to read him passages from The Purpose Driven Life. The words and their message behind them brought a calmness to a life that had seem to embrace only violence, leading to his surrender, with no further bloodshed. I wonder if the written words or recorded story of a father to his son, could have the same life-changing effect, even if the father was absent during his upbringing? There is great wisdom in discoveries or obtaining a PhD, but there is also wisdom in knowing how to use our own experiences to prevent the same pitfalls of the ones we love, or to somehow make a positive change.
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Two – Bucket List
Ye Olde Bucket by Kurt Bauschardt
If there is one phrase most everyone will utter at least once in their lifetime, I would wager, “I should write a book about my life” will reign right at the top of the list. But writing a bestseller or a template to a blockbuster movie does not have to be the set goal. Modern technology has gifted us a myriad of devices to record our voices that can be used to privately formulate our autobiography, without pressure to publish or even the need to be read. We can move at our own pace, write a paragraph one day, and utilize a video recording for the next few entries we make. A journal, diary, audio or visual recording or blog are resources, that not only allow us to actually scratch an item off our list, they also serve as tools to seamlessly tell our own story, in our own words, at our own pace; creating both a biography of the life we led, as well as, insight into the hopes, dreams and aspirations of a life that never escaped the imagination.
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One – The Remembrance
When I returned from my walk, and stepped inside a warm home, my mind immediately returned to the elder homeless man. My hopes are that he is not alone. That somewhere, there is a family or a friend who loves him and that when the day comes and the cold takes him, there will be someone to mourn his memory or cherish him in thought. But there is a chance, he is all he has left. Rather he burnt every bridge or lost his entire family in a flood, makes no difference in the end, for only God can judge him then. But what does matter, is if there is no one on hand to say a good word about this man? What if all he will ever be is a homeless man sitting on some street and if not for the Fall temperatures, invisible to society? But what if the city worker who is tasked with going through his belongings comes across the worn pages of his book and learns of the good deeds or the failed plans or the broken heart, that was more descriptive of him? Even a life that may appear empty and insignificant is deserving of a performance, a chance to close out the show, with kind words of truth in remembrance of him.
Many of us will make big contributions. We will invent or be the first or break records or do what no man or woman has ever done before. A few will make history in the evils that men do, and historians will give them all their proper due. But every one of us will contribute. And the size of the audience should not dictate our voice. Rather you are telling your story for your family or for the millions that follow your show, record your autobiography with passion, with honesty, and with the wisdom in knowing that someone, somewhere, somehow may learn from you, be inspired by you, or bypass a certain unfortunate path, all because of you.
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