Kinship of Rivers going to the Po River Bologna with 3000 river flags…then the Everest.

13087691_10154229982979276_2460220280454735612_n

Kinship of Rivers going to the Po River, Bologna, with 3000 river flags…then the Everest. Thank you all for your help. I’ll keep you updated with blogs and pictures.

 

Kinship, curated by Patti Campani debuts Saturday May5 2016 at the DuePuntiLab exhibition space in Bologna.

 

Kinship is a term that has no parallel in Italian: it indicates a complex network of relations which range from common bloodlines, to an extended social belonging, to the sense of one’s own roots, even to a deep and personal affinity with other beings, cultures.


For this reason it does not have a collective character, but rather that of a single project realized by various artists, by a plurality of voices united in a single body.


Kinship is dedicated to the River, to its flow, its incessant becoming, which, throughout the mutations and the complexity of its course, remains nothing other than itself. We all belong to this phenomenon: to a unique and vital source which draws us together, while allowing us to differentiate ourselves in a thousand different rivulets, and to flow while appropriating diverse experiences, even to lose ourselves and re-forge ourselves throughout the single surge towards the headwaters, which guide us towards a vaster totality to which we all ultimately belong.


The artists in Kinship who narrate this epic experience belong to different artistic contexts and territories: poetry, sculpture, architecture, photography, and video, all of which combine throughout the exhibition’s narrative course, to form a single current of intertwining creativity.
Guy Lydster, sculptor, Paolo Quartapelle, photographer, Simone Garagnani Alessandro Menegoli e Lucia Trebbi cofounders of DuePuntiLab, Wang Ping, poet.


For the occasion the sonnets of Wang Ping have been translated for the first time in to Italian. The printing of the booklet was a donation from the Department of Modern Languages, University of Bologna- Prof.ssa.Lilla Maria Crisafulli; the translations of the texts are edited by Vanessa Montesi and Margherita Orsi.


The evening of the opening will also be enhanced by the gracious presence of the poetess herself, Wang Ping. She will honour listeners and spectators with a reading from her Crown Sonnets, and she will willingly engage visitors to participate in her worldwide project “The Kinship Of Rivers” . The public will also be able to send out a prayer/thought in the form of a tiny flag towards the next leg of her voyage: Mount Everest.

 

Opening : Thursday May 5, 7:00 pm
DuePuntiLab – via Solferino 19, Bologna
From 5 to 28 May 2016
Opening hours:
on Saturday from 17.00 to 19.0
on the occasion of “Diverdeinverde” – Friday, May 20, Saturday, May 21 and Sunday, May 23 from 15.00 to 19.00
daily by telephone appointment at the following telephone numbers: 3474511331 – 3398721040 – 3336419333

Wang Ping's photo.
 

Buffalohair: A Native American Poem On Thanksgiving

Little Running Deer on November 27th, 2014

Buffalohair Gazette International

News Video and Resource Portal

 

 

A Native American Poem On Thanksgiving

 

custer-stomp

 

Thanksgiving?

Oh what a day, Thanksgiving, so happy and so free.

A time of joy and merry bliss, to feast through out the day.

Elation fills the Autumn mist, to share the joyous tide.

But in my heart I know the truth, my culture really died.

From time hence forth, from coast to coast and all through out the land.

Whispers from the Nanticoke and other Native bands.

Mark this time, Thanksgiving, the time we lost our land.

                                                                                                                                   ……….. Buffalohair

Idle No More – A Poem – Fostered Hope

Idle No More – A Poem – Fostered Hope

idle no more

 

Fostered Hope

In times of old when we were free, and travelled with a subtle breeze.

This land of birth had no disease, and all we felt was life at ease.

Bison roamed a million fold, and in our way, that was our gold.

He served us well, both young and old, his all of wealth, from stories told.

Our wine of choice was of a spring, we shared our life with everything.

 

Oh Mother Earth and Father Sky, please save us from this white man’s Lie.

His ways of hate and words of quick have left our people sad and sick.

He’s killed the beasts that ruled the plains, and gave us booze that rot our brains.

Those words of quick have hurt our sight, and pushed us to this time of plight.

Our children walk in endless night, fore they have lost the path of light.

 

Make well of us and land gone strange, and bring back life to the barren range.

Return the water that we may drink, and clear our minds so we may think.

Return the spark of life’s sweet fire, and give new hope for those we sire.

Make good this land that has gone strange, and foster forth this Time of Change.

Buffalohair

Tags:

“Featured”, American Indian, Ann Little Running Deer, Ann’s Home Page, Buffalohair-Jage Press, clean water, Healing, Health, History, Poetry, Survival, Time of Change, World News

Posted by littlerunningdeer on January 12, 2013 at 5:08 pm
Filed under America 100 % Made, American Indian, Buffalohair Universe, Causes, Children, Earth Changes, Health, Heart, Hello World, History, Indigenous, Inside, Love, Poetry, Survival, The Now, The Past, Wisdom  |  Tags:

January 12, 2013
Categories: Children, Drinking Water, Environment, Forests, Health, History, Mother Earth, Nations, Our Life, Poetry, Spirit In The Wind Group, Time of Change, Tribes, Wild Foods, Wild Life, World News . Tags:

Idle No More – A Poem – Simple Choice

Idle No More – A Poem – Simple Choice

idle no more

 

 

Simple Choice

The time of change is oh so grand

Fore it will spread throughout this land

From trees to seas, and all that stand

Even that of common man

Will hark and beat of not what’s wrong

But drum our Earth’s most happy song

 

Oh man of greed and man of gold

Hearken forth, this story told

Since times of past, from men of wise

Our Mother Earth is too of guise

She lay in wait, through times of grate

And witnessed mans unhappy state

 

Our Father Sky in poised askance

In equal pall of mans advance

Will make askew, this path of strife

And beckon forth a happy life

But man must face his chosen do

And right his wrong or stay un-new

 

The rhythmic beat from drummers hand

Will echo forth throughout the land

The happy songs will fill our heart

We’ll dance for joy with life’s new start.

 

Buffalohair

© 2013, Buffalohair Productions. All rights reserved.

Bookmark and Share

 

Filed under American Indian, Buffalohair Universe, Buffalohair-Jage Press, Heart, Hello World, Indigenous, Love, Native American, Poetry, The Future, The Now, Wisdom  |  Tags:

Buffalohair a quote: Silence,

Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 7:22 pm    Post subject:
 
“Silence, they say, is the voice of complicity”

But silence is impossible.
Silence screams.
Silence is a Message,
Just as doing nothing is an act.
Let who you are ring out & Resonate
In every word & every deed.
Yes, become who you Are.
There’s no sidestepping your own being
Or your own Responsibility.
What you do is who you are.
You are your own Comeuppance.
You become your own message.
You are the Message.

“In the Spirit of Crazy Horse”

—Leonard Peltier
_________________
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

COUNTRY JOE AND THE FISH REVISITED ODE TO IRAN

Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 11:21 am    Post subject:
 
COUNTRY JOE AND THE FISH REVISITED
ODE TO IRAN

“Come on all you big strong men

Uncle Sam needs your help again

He’s got himself in a terrible jam

Way down yonder in Ole Iran

So put down your books and pick up a gun

We’re gonna have a whole lot of fun

And it’s one, two, three

What are we fighting for

Don’t tell me an oil can

Next stop is ole Iran

And it’s five, six, seven

Open up the pearly gates

Well there ain’t no time to wonder why

Whoopie wer’re all going to die!”

……………………………………………Buffalohair and the Woodticks
_________________
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

APPALLYPTO


Lies been told a million fold
The words went on for ages
Excuse was made, excuse was said
To mask the true intentions
They lied at will and shot to kill
Then raped an ancient people
Gold was all they ever sought
Their God was in approval

“An Inca here, a Maya there
And Oh, lets whack them Aztec’s
We’ll take their gold, a million fold
Then wipe them from existence”

“We’ll burn their books, the smoke so high”

The truth will be the White Man’s Lie……..

Buffalohair
_________________
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind