mama hips

June 7, 2011

DJ Nickodemus

Filed under: Dance music, running, synchronicity — Tags: , , , , , , , , — Kim Pacini @ 3:27 am

I discovered funky Afro world circus time travelin DJ Nickodemus  at PEX Heartburn V.  My favorite recollection was from the vantage point of being behind the DJ booth – talking and groovin in red and when I  looked up and not one person was doing anything but dancing with full engagement in the beat, the groove, the fun of it all. It was a room compelled of thousands of feet and bodies having a blast in the music. When I looked to the DJ booth, it was Nickodemus behind the decks.

So I’ve been running to his mixes because I can immerse into the activity while my imagination has a platform to occupy: we’ve got hip hop with trumpets, poppy beats on cowbells, umpas, lyrics, claps all in one. Very bouncy, sorta sophisticated but more like all around fun.

Today I was running when his Africa Edition 2010 came on. This is what I came up with along Kelly Drive today:

Mark 3.22:  1) I see a black couple doing some Adam and Eve groovin. booty shakin; fig leaves and all. 2) for the guitar I see a bluesy rock and roll guy jamming out in the corner on the floor somewhere. Or a 13-ish year old kid being super badass on the guitar.

Mark 3.32: I see a a crowd of all races sizes, people, personalities dancing with a spotlight shining on each one as their part rises. woman and man are spiritual forces brought together to live..

Mark 6.00: heard the track in Nickodemus world before. never gets old.

Mark 6.24: clap, clap – side stepping 80’s breakdancing guys

Mark 7.09: super animated  country cowgirl ringing a triangle

I also see in there a big black lady rolling her hips fluidly with big ol smile, I see native Americans in full headress, I see horns, I all these people moving in synchronicity to all come together somewhere @ the 9.37 mark. Dancing, doing acting up a storm making a perfectly choreographed super beautiful diverse crowd.

How could I not get moving to this?

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May 3, 2011

Miguel Migs Colorful You

Filed under: Music, transformation, writing — Tags: , , , — Kim Pacini @ 3:09 am

Right now, I’m listening to Miguel Migs’ Colorful You album. I was introduced to this album when I met my husband, when I was living with my best friend Elmo.  I was twenty seven years old and new things about my ability to thrive on my own were being revealed as I fell magnificently in love with Joe. Mindiscs, camel cigarettes and the Enders Game series are what warm my chakras from this time.

A year or so later, the album reappeared as a frequent listen as I power walked the South Philly neighborhood I lived in when I moved in with Joe. Cut off shorts and a Tshirt, I’d haul my ass past pizza joints, churches, old men on the stoop and hardware stores. Surrender is the jam from then.   Release your love. Come on, how can you not love that when yer striding  and keepin it fit?

The track Soulvibe reminds me of  that first Winter when I had Danae. I would strut throughout my house to this album, my little one strapped to me in the Bijorn as I lifted my legs and spun and twirled my arms around keeping her madly entertained as I danced my way through the winter with a newborn baby. Our bodies become one. I’ve got to touch your soulvibe. Those are some great lyrics to a groovy little beat. Those times were snow and intense, new love.

So it seems that this album’s number is called in the jukebox that houses my life soundtrack during times of rather significant transformation. I like it so much  that when there is nothing left to do but enjoy the moment I return to it to help me do that. As a matter of fact, that is the reason I  chose to listen to it tonight. The sentence, “write about what you love” has been floating across my open eyes these days so tonight, this album was put on without thinking about it and what resulted was a really fantastic thread of connecting to times of the most brilliant transformation.

Gotta love music. Gotta love deep house sexy loungy groovy funky music.

June 15, 2010

Dirty and and tired and loving every second of it.

Just when I think I’ve got this, I don’t. Just when I step out a little on either side to fill in the space I I know I can reach I reach it alright but there is a whole new feeling of discomfort there. Same cycle; I just went from the tense phase to the bugging our stage and now am in the what the fuck stage. Dirty and and tired and loving every second of it.

It’s 8 o’clock at night, I just put Danaë to bed. I am writing this post in the kitchen having just finished packaging tomorrow’s breakfast and lunch for all of us, iPhone in hand to give existence to the flow of words in my head.

Five minutes prior to this, I was living the scene in my movie where I standing in my kitchen at the end of the day, romanced by Ann Peebles in my hips when the music swells compelling me to stop take a deep breath, put my hands over head and let all the exasperation out. The sound of the lady blues: I’m doing what mother after mother after mother has done; work at taking care of their babies. For all of us, its work on some level and for most of us we have had the moment when all we can do is sigh and know its all alright and that bed isn’t too far off.

Fucking hell today took a lot of effort. At one point, I literally didn’t think I could handle another second of exerting energy. Physically drawn to walking out and going to sleep, unable to put a cranky, over awake child to sleep and feeling like I have lost my mom superpowers. But I didn’t, and she went to sleep happy and I got a shower and here I am, clean and tired and leaning on the kitchen counter stealing a moment to write and can’t wait to get to sleep with my love.

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