GLOBAL CIPHER

Friday, December 29, 2017

#resolve20now "You are Now Free To Move About Your Planet"

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN IN DECEMBER OF 2017:

REVISITED IN APRIL OF 2020 WHILE ON A Globewide imposed 'LOCKDOWN' IN PARIS France Te Karefa April 23rd 2020 17:50

The following is excerpted from my facebook page and was originally intended as a 'nudge' to my friends and more specifically to the young people in my family's 'now-generation' to push the boundaries of what I see as a socio-geographic comfort zone which has been imposed upon us and which we until very recently have accepted as the norm for us and our own.

The need, propensity and right to travel our planet should be consistent with all other human needs and rights and should be instilled in our children as such. More recently the trend of traveling out side of the prescribed zones has indeed shown a 'swerve' in awareness and more and more of us are moving around in spaces once thought to be exclusive. Money has never been a barrier to moving around on the planet. and I bear witness to the facts that men and women in my immediate family exemplified by moving through the zones ..

"It Ain't where you're from it's where you're At" Rakim Allah (Emcee/Rap Music pioneer)

Can you imagine what it would be like to live in a single Borrough, District County, Province or Zone or Arrondissement for your entire life? Never venturing to physically explore beyond its borders? Well many of us have achieved exactly that for many different reasons.

We shouldn't have to pay to travel on a planet we were born 'free' on . Yet it is undoubtedly so. Why should moving to another hemisphere on our grand Blue star be considered to be 'foreign travel' or going 'abroad' and seemingly exclusive to a small, percentage of those who can afford to venture?

The answer will vary by timezone. Some touchable breaking news is that the price of global get-about (airfare, lodging and dining) has decreased considerably, opening the gates for us to escape borrrRinG homeland insecurity into a way-more interesting PLANETary citizenry.

Wait What?

A large branch of my family reside in the Western hemisphere, I and another branch, occupy a kind of midzone in the Eastern hemisphere with the Atlantic, Ocean, Mediterranean Sea and Sahara Desert dividing us. In the early mid 2000's I would spend what I could muster from my security guard and audio-visual tech hustles, to make 'jumps' from D.C. and N.Y. to the EU and Africa and South America.

I later learned that what was instilled in me as a birthright, appeared to many of my contemporaries as some kind of cosmopolitan, status-borne privilege which could only be possible by some unknown criminal activity, government agency affiliation or a well-hidden stash of extra cash. By the persistently radical token of time, this typical and simple-to-weave notion would become (however gradually) untwisted.

In recent years I have seen seen more and more young visitors in this city during what can be called the 'off seasons' than ever before. They are cycle breakers and the first of a new generation of explorers who will blast through the illusion that Paris and many many wonderful cities beyond are not accessible to have-nots and have-nevers. That the experience where the temporary safety from harm that we call a 'vacation' is actually a glance at the liberated self, moving as it was born to move.

In the very near future, this generation (my daughter, my nieces and nephews) will jump the Atlantic like I crossed the Hudson into New Jersey or The Delaware River into DC Maryland and Virginia. Like I took The A Train from 72nd to 125th and the 1 line from Downtown to 225th street or to Allerton Avenue in The Bronx.

WorrRd? Why Not?

Most of the pre-generation now O.G.'s have traveled and explored a little something of our wide earth and yet, still not enough. We seem to be hitting the beaten paths and the familiar as-seen-on-TV-and-the-internets cities and the many other

insta-coveted retreats that we need not name here.

So : my 2018 exhortation (mainly to my younger family and friends) shall be,

If you have not yet done so?

Get yourself a passport like NOW, and before you get caught up in, distracted and immobilized by life's inevitable and consistently local chapters; virtual travel fantasies within Apple, Android and other... use it and plan to travel wheresoever you will - over your wonderful Earth.

Godspeed

Tejan Karefa Paris, France December 29 2017

PHOTOGRAPHY:

Other TK PHOTO Travel Images:

Tutto a Posto' ITALY Voyage (Photos) (Blog)

TK Photography In Video Slide format

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

ENIGMAS IN PARIS

TK:PHOTO 'ENIGMAS IN PARIS' from TK Photography on Vimeo.

I have been photographing the streets of Paris since 2007
and have encountered many wonderful and timely moments that allowed me a peek- if you will- into what I call the other Paris..

Having been wooed by the Champs Elysées, Mr Eiffel's tower, the Louvre, The Moulin Rouge in Pigalle, The Tuilerie gardens and Place Vendôme near Concorde, Le Marais,The Notre Dame Cathedral, the Sacre Coeur basilica of Monmartre, Bastille, Républque and many of the other "you must go here" places, Paris exposes to the true troubadour-explorer another side of her reality that may never be encountered by the common tourist-seeker who is hoping to experience the romantically-prescribed version of the City of Light.

Her streets of celebrated artist-travelers' lore where, far from the familiar haunts of Harlem, Greenwich Village and Broadway, James Baldwin identified les misérables as the Algerian immigrants whom he encountered when he arrived in the late 1940's. He was able to connect to their
plight as undesirables and second class inhabitants in France. As an artist without a consistent means of support, he experienced the streets by rote, stayed in cheap hotels and befriended people and personalities from all walks of life. A strange episode in one of his fabled chapters here landed him in prison during the Christmas season of 1949.

James Baldwin on the "ancient glories" of French Culture" :

James Baldwin 'Equal In Paris' 1955

Paris is the coveted traveler's utopia and the voyager-scribe's irresistible delicacy that Ernest Hemingway named "a movable feast". I have found it to be true that the light, the sound and the mood of her citoyens is very swift and changeable and if you don't bring your own voice and light to project into her reality she will easily tempt you with her haute couture gourmet illusion.

If you are going to romanticize a place, there is no rule that says you can't. It is just that if romance becomes a necessary ingredient for such description, it should have more than one dimension for us to move within. I have read many other accounts of both not-so-well-known and otherwise celebrated artists' scripts on their particular Paris adventures. In the past many of these accounts seem to suggest that the most accurate descriptions of Paris could only come from one demographic;

The traveling avant garde who are (sometimes) talented, mostly rich, famous - and White. Tap swipe science has demolished this myth iIf you come here venture to base your expectations upon such myopic accounts exclusively, then you deserve the shock and the turbulent rearrangement of your psyche that may ensue when you turn a corner or hop off of the metro and arrive in Senegal.

I would have to include with JB's and E-Hem's accounts, those of Josephine Baker, Richard Wright, Miles Davis, Nina Simone and an uncounted many others whose Paris experiences were as dark or as bright as they come. Fast forwarding to today's social media universe where thoughts are published as they come, this is a tweet form Lyricist rap artist Lupe Fiasco candidly proclaiming:

"

He later told his twitter followers that he was "in Paris looking for the ghost of James Baldwin".

There is Jay-Z and Kanye West's Niggas in Paris a braggadocio-laden account of how young and affluent rap stars season their Parisian feasts du jour. And what about the Paris that is the birthplace of a new generation of young French artists from the post-Gainsbourg MTV and HIP HOP generation of the late 70's and the 8o's and through to the 20'nows?.. What Paris do they live in?

Even if I consider my experience here to have been a little more involved than would be than for the average visitor, and that being because of the paths laid and doors opened to me by Black men who were constant gardener-travelers, I hadn't yet heard - until recently, - about a "transient psychological disorder" that plagues unsuspecting, presumptive tourists who come here with privileged expectations of Paris and who very likely lifted their script from the California-based lab that has concocted for us a now inexhaustible supply of travel fantasies.

The photographs in my on-going 'enigma' series are a compilation of my street-going adventures that began here in 2007, after I had done my share of nibbling on the hors d'oeuvres and decided that I needed to create my own buffet. It was during this period of reconnaissance, that I began to stumble upon her not often recognized but always present food for the soul.

The sights and the rhythms that I encountered here reflect around eight years of exploring an unbeaten path in Paris and includes another series in this blog titled The Doors of La Rive Gauche.; a continuation of my photo-narrative with images that illustrate my fascination and intrigue surrounding the many doors that I passed by and entered here, wondering what or who might be waiting for me on the other side with some new untasted travelers' roue.

These various gateways to steps and corridors or to vast courtyards that house artist communities became a metaphor for the types of unlikely characters that I met and the worlds that they concealed - or did not conceal. As with any metropolis, the people, places and faces here are the real doors to the music and beats that kept me curiously coming, waiting and opening.

Absent are the typical scenes of a curly mustache-twirling , beret-crowned Gaspards. Pensive, with brush in hand, painting lilies by the fountain in Le Jardin du Luxembourg as Mireille and Pierre lie in the grass sipping a young Côtes Du Rhône. Or even our fictional comrades David and Giovanni café-hopping in Saint Germain des Prés to a chorus of ' Saluts' 'Allos!' and 'Adieus!'.

They are the errand-running blue tooth speaker blasting, freestyle-rhyming,cell tap swiping, scooteur dancing, velo-speeding young stars. The out-side-of-the-Jolie-zone -cicians who, will tell you that Les Banlieus where they and their families live is also Paris. There is the gallant basement pianist, the world class jazz musicians and chanteurs célèbres who play the grand festivals in summer and jam in the obscure caves or basement lounges in St Michel-when it's cold.

The colorful sons and daughters of the continents tremble the city from Barbes to Belleville to Aubivilliers. They who enliven the air with a bazaar of colors from The Orient, Dakar, Mali, Benin and everywhere on The African Riviera. They stay bending the common street sounds with ancient words that stir common French into bold and fantastic musical convo. Corner-chilling Al-Hajiis in their jalabiyas watching every single move. My comrade-homey and empanada food-truck vendor who introduced me to his D.R. by way of a three on three game of hoops, blasting salsa and bachata from loudspeakers and serving samples of his authentic Dominican treats to wary crepe lovers.

I accosted a group of romping demoiselles, poised on the steps of the Bastille opera house in their emo-regalia , defying all things Mireille- and Chanel. I took personal shots of my visiting family members, my niece and nephew lamping near the Louvre on a summer evening.

Many photographers inherently establish their visual presumptions as reality-

I have been more than once bitten by this urge. I have assigned the signature title of this series of images to a still and haunting 'wayfarer' with her head bowed, holding a placard on which were written words that I never read. With her paper cup in front of her is full of the rare empathy and empty by the common lack of consideration that together spell her lot. Like a gatekeeper of the Champs Elysées sub walk where I saw her, she never said a word. She didn't thank the givers or frown on the ungenerous as the waves of a million human stories swept by her.

She is like this city; any city really. Only those with a certain kind of sight can see her and acknowledge her for who 'she' really is. She is like the redundantly italicized French words in this post majestically forward leaning as an accepted mark of style. but still, they are just words written in another tongue and distinguishable only to the degree that you decided to learn their meaning. .

She is not a beggar, a vagabond nor is she a cunning usurper of the rare compassionate givers. She doesn't respond to kindness or suck her teeth at disdain. She is just there. Maybe she has a secret to reveal and if you took time to stop and ask her the right question, in the correct tone of voice - or thought, You might even be shown the gateway and given keys to her yesterday, her now and her tomorrow all at a glance.

The sequence of images ends with her night scenes. Sign boards of dance venues on well-known Paris thoroughfares and the bright glow of a lamp post that beams on an empty side street at dark.

All of the scenes reflect moments captured while traveling through the streets of my Paris, my own realm of many rhythms and colors that include but extend beyond things considered to be typically Franćais. The unseen, (or unnoticed) and the ever-present .. is what I move to expose through my photography, in the hope that others may seek and see the same.

If by chance, you happen to pay this fair city a visit - for a spell? or are fleeing here seeking new danger well..

Come with with some other queries- pack your own spice and some original light,

of your own. If you choose to share your gleanings with fellow zone travelers through the the lens or by the pen every now and then pause and "Look Again"

FIN

Tejan Karefa..

Tuesday, March 1, 2016 Paris 14eme

TK NOTE:

while discussing this article with a young Parisian who works as a social media liaison to a large group of followers in japan I was fascinated by his revelation on the existence of a phenomenon known as PARIS SYNDROME.. wow.. googling this 'condition' will reveal to the reader how much our travel experience can by governed .. in this case ruined by our thinking.

MUSIC:

The accompanying song is Ritournelle de Paris by the well known French Singer André Claveau
who released a series classics that were popular in France from the 40's through the 60's .

RELATED SCREEN GRABS:

Wikepedia Definition of ';Paris Syndrome'

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An excerpt from a theatlantic.com article : 'Paris Syndrome: A First-Class Problem for a First-Class Vacation' published on October 14, 2011 ...

PARIS EXHIBITS SUMMER 2016:

I plan to present these and other voyage photography by exhibit in Summer 2016.
See my VIMEO PAGE: for other photographic and video material..

Saturday, November 14, 2015

The Color of Chaos: The Role of The Artist Revisited

FIRST blogged during November 2015 Paris Bataclan bombings. Attacks that are reported to have had the highest death toll since World War II.

This 2015 Post is being revisited, edited and re- posted during a period of the global CO VID 19 crises, global weather shifts of biblical dimension and the FOX, CNNigan and other wars and rumors thereof.

Last Edited on Sunday June 26 ,2022

The artist cannot and must not take anything for granted, but must drive to the heart of every answer and expose the question the answer hides.

James Arthur Baldwin (from 'The Creative Process', Ridge Press 1962)

I have lived in Paris as an artist-creative for the last seven years. I have been afforded a bounty of creative experience which, perhaps the fast moving and whimsical nature of the American art world would not afford me. This is not a malignant comparison, just a keen observation and perspective that a fulfilling level of living for the adventurous artist does exist outside of the confines of an American Dream. I can only smile when asked "Do you really love Paris that much?"

Yes- I do love 'my Paris', meaning, Té's Paris, The history of adventure that my experience in the city holds and what it was to the real life renaissance men who introduced me to her.

Men such as my Father Frank Karefa-Smart who launched his young life from the hinterland of Sierra Leone into a now legendary life of youthful, majestic and often chaotic intrigue on the mother continent, in Europe and in America.

His encounter in the early 1960's in a newly independent - West Africa with his future wife (my mother Gloria) and her older brother, a Harlemite renegade-artist who landed here on a unlikely quest that would murder the odds of becoming a walking Tesla-tower within the highest circles of modern literary discourse.

The rest is truly historic.

This connection would continue to intrigue me from those chapters pf the 1970's up to the 'Present'. The saga now includes my wife, daughter and many wonderful people whom I would meet here and the fascinating adventures of my more recent seven year sojourn here.

Certainly all has not been a transatlantic fairy tale. Often enough, I have witnessed the dark side of the City of Lights. Besides the lake-of-fire bureaucracy that one has to endure to get a 'Titre de Sejour' which is basically the French equivalent of a Green card, It may be that am too African and too HIP HOP for most expatriate Americans in Paris and too African and American to be accommodated by Parisians as an acceptably adjusted Francilien.

There are no words for the tragic and horrendous loss of human life that took place in this wonderful city where I, my wife and many friends live and work. The news came while in DC with my wife and it was surreal to see a familiar zone sensationalized as a terror crime scene on CNN.

After returning , I had to do some reflecting on what mood to assume in what would be a new chapter for me as a legal resident in Paris. My recourse has always been not to surrender to the popularized drum beat of woe, terror and the constant fear of facing the unknowable each day. Induced Fear is the cause of the ill-effects of more hatred, persecution and the ignorant the reactionary violence that we are trained to categorize as ' ' (whatever words come to mind).

What color do we give to war, pandemic suffering and death. A question mark is not needed.

Despite the damning evidence of human history- "All lives are sacred". Whatever we do or do not believe in, until we check our mirror the collective conscience will have to be shaken . As we tap click and swipe it is already written - that the worst is yet to come.

We, whom the world calls 'artists' are the elected soul-survivors of our time , are here to storm with the greatest force that there is.. L.O.V.E.

It is the only bloodless cure .. it is not just a convenient word.. a shamelessly abused code-term for religious, hence ephemeral 'tolerance' but it is a true human cause that has endured the ages and the worst kind of suffering. We are in alliance with the times, the natural enemy of these warmongering minds that hide behind frenetic notions of peace.

The public response will, of course always vary in intensity of opinion, maturity of motive and intent. Redefining what our world should look like sound like and feel like is the proving ground the now generation of artists

.
Take it or leave it .. time will give to our children to harvest whatever we planted..

As so-named creatives and as everyday people - We remain ed redirected, focused and reinforced to our purpose for living (whatever we felt it might be) and kept vigilant in the cause of justice for ourselves, our families and for all of humanity- while we live.

Godspeed

T. Karefa Washington DC November 14th 2015

Monday, January 30, 2012

GLOBAL CIPHER 2012 and Beyond

Traversing the valley (Southern Morocco 2007)

Welcome to my photo journal. I hope that it is fairly simple to navigate.

You can view the posted journal pages by scrolling over and clicking on the CAPITALIZED link titles above:

The most recently added entry is 'Tutto a Posto'
It is a short account of my continuing trips to
italy which began in 2012.

The other photos are: 'Doors of La Rive Gauche.'
(a series of images taken of Parisian doors mostly on
the left Bank of The Seine river taken in 2012) and

'My City' images of a summer walk through my Hometown,
New York City in 2007..

You may view some of my portrait, fashion,travel
and 'object' images at this link:

<<<ORACLE IMAGES TEJAN KAREFA>>>

"The sage is shy and humble. To the world he seems
confusing. Men look to him and listen. He behaves
Like a little child"

Lao Tsu: Tao Te Ching

SCENES FROM 'THE ADVENTURES OF TEJAN KAREFA':