Caroline Tran est un génie absolu ;un photographe vraiment doué qui arrive à nous envoyer quelques-uns des plus beaux mariages que vous aurez jamais poser les yeux sur .Tops sur cette liste ?Cette affaire à couper le souffle de Los Angeles .un moderne répond partie classique qui tisse toutes sortes de beaux détails ( hello fleurs magnifiques de Green Leaf modèles) dans un événement extraordinaire .Découvrez tout cela dans la galerie complète de génial.\u003cp\u003e

Et une vidéo spéciale fou de studio205films .Aujourd'hui peut faire mieux ? ! ?( Réponse: non . )\u003cp\u003eColorsSeasonsSpringSettingsLoftStylesModernTraditio­nal

De Caroline Tran .Un architecte Alan si Catherine .leur planificateur \u0026concepteur.la pensée du thème «l'architecture de pierres précieuses " pour eux." gel vous " était le mignon disant sur ​​leur table de desserts et Catherine avaient découpes de diamants personnalisés fabriqués à partir de Pitbulls etPosies à accrocher robe courte devant longue derriere partout .Catherine a même construit un support de diamant de carte d'escorte .Le mariage a eu une belle et fraîche palette de couleurs de bleu robes demoiselles d honneur blanc et glace .avec des accents de rose .

Photographie : Caroline Tran | vidéographe: Studio205films | planification de l'événement: Catherine Cindy Leo | gâteau : Simplement Sweets | Restauration : Patina Restauration | Cheveux et Maquillage : Thérèse Huang Maquillage \u0026Hair Design | Dj : Shine Divertissement | Dessert Toile de fond : Pitbulls Et Posies | Planification et conception: CCL Mariages et Evénements | Réception et cérémonie Lieu: AT \u0026 T Center | Location
http://modedomicile.com


: Locations de Luna robes demoiselles d honneur Partystudio205films est un membre de notre Little Black Book .Découvrez comment les membres sont choisis en visitant notre page de FAQ .studio205films voir le

Honestly if I am happy , And I am who I am suppose too be
And if No one Is getting hurt , Does it "" Really Matter ""
What Society , Family & Friend's Etc ... All think ( ? )
I know that deep down I want Society , Family & Friend's Etc ...
Too Accept Me as Me , Not as the person they all want me too be
What is between GOD & Me , Is In fact between GOD & Me
Christians are in fact , All over the Transgender acceptance Issue
Non Christians are more accepting overall , Then Christians are
Transgender Issue's can easily be defined , By "" Gender Dysphoria ""
If a person is so close minded that they , Cannot open there Mind's
And take a minute too look at a Logical / Medical view point ( ? )
If a person is so Judge mental , That they will not try and see Me or
You as who We are & They are okay with not having Us in there lives
Then there Not worth having in Our lives in the first Place ( ? )
I forgive All ( In The Name of ) ( GOD ) - Who have one way or another , Tried too Ruin & or Threaten too Destroy Me . Just because They can't & won't take the time and understand who I truly Am
However Forgiving isn't FORGETTING , And Lying about thing's
That Family Did in fact attempt too do , Then Deny they had any part . Is itself very upsetting . For the record "" CHRISTIAN  CONVERSION THERAPY "" - Is Nothing but Garbage & It doesn't Work & It never did Work - When You / We all get too HEAVEN , I suggest You All Have a Conversation , With all the many Unsuccessful People , That Christian Conversion Therapy didn't HELP - GOD BLESS ALL of YOU , Now Always & Forever :

i. throw away the three boxes of
incense sticks that burn your eyes
when lit. When your father asks
you where they went,
tell him,
they’re a firehazard.

ii. before you board the bus, rush
to the bathroom. dump out the
mi sao your mother made
for you.
repack with lunchables and fruit roll-
ups. hide your wooden chopsticks.

iii. rip the buddha necklace off
your chest. with the imprint of the fat
man digging into your left palm, raise
your right hand and shout, “I’M NOT
A BUDDHIST. my mother was.” to the peers
think all Asians are Buddhists and
all Buddhists are Asian.

iv. When they ask you why ‘Vy’
rhymes with ‘bee’ and not ‘my’,
tell them that Vietnamese and
English are two different
languages. But remember to
apologise for the inconvenience.
Look forward to this question for
the rest of your life.

v. If a substitute asks, “Sorry
if I pronounce this
wrong but is Vy [rhyme with
eye] here?” Do not duck
beneath your desk. Do not
correct them. Tighten your lips
into a smile, look them in the
eye and raise your hand,
"here."

vi. avoid going shopping with
your parents, they will ask you to
bargain with the cashier on
how the lettuce ball s a bit too
small to cost three dollars, and
that they should take off a
dollar. when you refuse, they will
try to communicate in broken
English.
this is your cue to wait out front.

vii. when graduation day comes
and your entire family wants to
attend,
say no. it is not important.
it is important. but your
grandmother will tell everyone that
you are the first, to step foot
into college. avoid
this embarrasssment by telling them
graduation is cancelled.

viii. instead of taking pictures with
your “fresh off the boat” family,
borrow Kelly Tran’s, whose
parents are hip and cool and let
her speak English
at home.

ix. are you Chinese?
no

x. are you Japanese?
no

xi. are you Korean?
no

xii. Are you Asian?
…yes

xiii. what kind of Asian are you?
Vietnamese
… American

xiv. You are not Vietnamese-
American. there is nothing
American about you except your
citizenship.

xv. make sure you choose the
furthest college away from home,
where your mother won’t be able
to send you white rice and
kimchi, among other foods that
your white roommate can’t pronounce.

xvi. no matter where you go,
someone will ask you to “say
something in your language”
they say
"your language"
because one,
they don’t know what language
you speak, two,
they don’t know how to
pronounce it. they just
assume you speak one
besides English.

xvii. when your mother calls
while you have company over
and asks,
"con co nho me khong?", pretend
you don’t understand. take a
glance at the people around you
and firmly reply, “mom i’m
busy. i’ll call you later.” lace it
with enough conviction to fool
wandering ears but with less
compassion so that your mother
knows not to stay up late past three waiting.

xviii. tan your skin, bleach your
hair, forget your native tongue.
remember the boys who leer,
grabbing their crotch, whispering in
your ear, “i’ve got yellow fever,
can you cure me?”

xix. stand in front of the mirror.
open youtube and search, “how
to get rid of an Asian accent”
because no matter how western
you look, your mouth will speak
"duh girl likes pissa" instead of
"the girl likes pizza".

**. schedule a plastic surgery
appointment, fix your nose, jaw,
and monolid eyes. people will
try to stop you, “you are perfect
the way you are! there is no one you-
er than you!” laugh at them.
inform them, “the looks of me is
not what society want people to be.”

xxi. pick up the phone. dial
home. hang up. do this five
times. after the fifth, you will
have convinced yourself that you
don’t miss them. it is just the
alcohol talking.

xxii. before you sign up for this
read the fine print. in addition to
losing your identity, you will lose
yourself. becoming a child of
corrporate America is as easy as it
seems. you just have to let go of
your humanity.

I am from incense
From water and candles
I am from the three prostrations
needed to enter the baai san (prayer room).
(cold, smooth, watchful tapestries)
I am from the pecan shells, the tree whose nuts
and leaves left small hills of muddy layers

I'm from ginger to contacts
From Ly to Tran
I'm from the headstrong
and the never-wrong
From mou jung! (useless)
and hou gaawi! (how obedient)
I'm from Nama Amituofo with Cha Lua
and Taking Refuge in the Gurus,
Buddha,
Dharma,
and Sangha

I’m from Sugar Land and Bellaire,
2% milk and Pork Sung sandwiches.
From Dad forcing my brother to stare at green
to fight our genetic astigmatism
to Mom making us chant mantras
with rosary beads on the way to school

In the neighborhood pool,
I pushed away floating junebugs
I am those moments—
Chalk on the cul-de-sac

Yeah...
Yipee...
Another year older
Another year tran
Another year *******...
Another year depressed

“Television brought the brutality of war into the comfort of the living room.   Vietnam was lost in the living rooms of America—not on the battlefields of Vietnam.”                              Marshall McLuhan

You understand where I'm coming from,
Reader Rabbit, you twisted ****? Maybe not;
While you and your boy/girlfriend, later your wife/husband,
Were ******* backpacks around Europe,
I was of a less fortunate, less frivolous cohort,
Like the poor, who always miss the fun stuff.
So I stayed home and waited, dreading time,
Treading water in Queens,
Doing the graveyard shift at the Wonder Bread Bakery in Jamaica,
(No, not that Jamaica, mun.)
Building bodies 12 ways, and sweating out the inevitable,
Praying to my lesser god not to hear from my local draft board.
And who was I to disturb the universe?
“It ain’t me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son;
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, lawd naw.”
(Send  "Fortunate Son" Ringtone to your Cell)  
I was just another cynical working-class hero,
Unlike you, numb nuts, and the rest of your silver surfer friends.
I knew I’d wind up without my teddy bear,
Convinced I’d end up sans security blanket,
With no ****-vacant musical chair,
To plop my sorry non-exempt, 1A **** cheeks
Down into when the music stopped,
When the music’s over, turn out the light--Jim Morrison,
Lizard King--turn out the light.
My horse, my horse . . . no wait . . . **** the horse . . .
My kingdom, my kingdom for a 2-S college deferment!
What kingdom?  
What was it Jesus said?
Not of this earth, anyway.
Colonial Indochina: rich man's war, poor man's fight;
It was such an efficient way to rid trash from poor neighborhoods.

Needless to say, I’ve been having a little trouble adjusting ever since,
Since I got back from that Kafkaesque Disneyland Jungle Cruise,
My personal Cold War thriller,
My Tecumseh Sherman “War is All Hell” war,
My war: 45 years ago next week.
These things take time:
So says the recorded message on the VA’s PTSD Hotline.
45 years ago I packed up my duffle,
Packed for what I thought was going to be my last time in uniform,
Grabbed my Army discharge papers, and
Limp-dicked out the side door of,
The Veterans Hospital in St. Albans, County of Queens.
I’d like to say I never looked back. But I’d be lying.

(cue PSA: VA Reaches Out to Veterans:
The Department of Veterans Affairs will begin,
Contacting nearly 570,000 recent combat veterans May 1,
To ensure they know about VA's medical services and other benefits.)

Today and every day is 11-11, Veterans Day—
What gets me now is that all my time since The Nam,
Is on average two lifetimes,
For all those sent home, bagged and tagged.
Is it survivor’s guilt? I doubt it.

You may not understand this, but I miss that freaky jungle.
I felt safe there.
How quickly I learned to expect the unexpected,
And that meant to expect the worse,
Finding my comfort zone the more uncomfortable, the worse it got.
I miss the wet weight of the air,
The cloying heat and humidity.
Humidity: a plain and simple meteorological miracle,
When you have plenty of time to really think about it,
Which I did: 365 days and a wake-up.
You know that whole gorgeous hydrologic cycle thing?
I miss the rain, the sound of falling rain.
I miss the other sounds, every buzz and click,
All the arcane and dismal things that go screech in the night.
And that relentless insect hum,
The jungle vibrating and intense,
The colors vibrating too, especially that electric green,
A green so vivid, every leaf and vine,
"The world's richest repository of terrestrial biodiversity,” I read in some nature magazine,
Lying naked in bed while my therapist ****** me off the other day.
All those freaky creatures great and small,
Every miraculous living thing that’s really alive and thriving.
And this is why--I think,
Getting obnoxiously philosophical for the moment,
This explains why it got to be so easy to waste what was alive and thriving over there, including and especially our selves.

Death never seemed that permanent, that final over there.
And besides, you couldn’t **** anything for that long,
The critters all looking their wet and slimy same.  
Two minutes in The **** and you were
Killing every ******* gnat and bug,
Every leech and snake, anything &
Anyone that just looked at you sideways.

And the flora? Did I mention the flora?
Soupy Sales: (Smack! Bam!)  “I told you not to mention that.”
The flora:  the plants grew back and they grew back quick.
You chop a path on recon and the next day it’s not there anymore,
So you chop the whole way back to the L-Z.  
Chop, chop, Hop Sing!
You were one smart ****, Hop Sing,
Safe and sound in Lake Tahoe, Nevada-side,
Cooking up Ponderosa pork bellies for,
The Cartwright Clan: Ben, Adam, Hoss & Little Joe.
Meanwhile, I’m not earning any frequent flyer miles,
Aboard a chartered TWA, coffee-tea-or-me,
Royal **** airplane to Saigon,
A place called ** Chi Minh City today.
I remember looking around at the faces on that airplane,
As we landed at Tan Son Nhut,
Those forlorn godforsaken faces,
Black and Chicano and poor white trash boys.
Scared shitless, of course,
But we really were jolly green giants over there,
American conquistadors, Cortez and the Boys,
Seeking gold and glory and, of course,
*******, (www.urbandictionary.com):
That sweet wet hole we all crave,
Can't go for too long without,
Center of our life's desire,
What gives women the upper hand in almost every situation,
Except when you pay in South Vietnamese piastres,
Your basic exchange rate $3.00 *******.

Yes, we were American conquistadors,
But traveling light this trip,
Our black-robed Jesuit fathers having missed the flight.
That’s right, for us no Ad majorem Dei gloriam this time,
Our mission so simple and so clear:
SEARCH & DESTROY.
But mostly, Destroy.

And pretty soon you worked your way up the evolutionary ladder,
From bugs, to fish, to frogs and snakes,
Small varmints and reptiles, birds and rodents;
And by the time you taxonomy out to the runway,
You’re pretty much whacking anything that moves,
Anything you feel like, pretty much any time,
All the time, sometimes just to pass the time,
Just to break up the ******* monotony of it all.
So making the anti-personnel leap got sort of easy:
They all looked the same, didn’t they?
They all wore the same pajamas,
And it was never conducive to grunt longevity,
To nitpick the civilians from the soldiers,
Never a good idea to waste time distinguishing friend from foe.

Good Morning, Vietnam:
We really were nerve-gassed-Adrian Cronauers over there,
G-2 Army oxymoronic intelligence stiffs,
Having a little difficulty finding the enemy,
Having one hell of a time finding a Vietnamese man named "Charlie."
They're all named Nguyen, or Tran, or Thanh or Trong or Bao or Phuc . . .
Oh, ****, I get it now.
I grok the how and why,
Of all the names we’ve used for centuries to dehumanize the enemy:
***** and Nips, Chinks and Slopes,
Huns and Krauts, Redskins and Ivans,
Redcoats and Rebs, Zulus and Mau Maus, *****, Ragheads and Sand ******* . . .
To dehumanize is to be dehumanized.
Nominal dehumanization; linguistic trickery.
It made it easy . . .
Well, easier . . .
To **** you.

What was it Pope Innocent III’s legate advised?
“**** Them All.  Let God sort ‘em out.”

Is it smell of burning flesh that makes me so digress?

Yes, I miss that freaky jungle, my friend.
I miss knowing what to expect and what was to be expected.
And most of all I miss that absolute confidence,
My self-liberating soporific certainty,
That I did not give a **** whether I lived or died,
And no one else did either.
I miss the peaceful place to go,
Coping with fear by letting go,
By writing off my life,
My future "in-country,"
My 12-month tour of duty,
My 365 T.S. Eliot Ash Wednesdays,
Learning to care and not to care,
Cultivating indifference as to,
Whether or not I ever made it Wee, Wee, Wee,
All the way home again.
The answers were right there,
Always there, all the time,
In nursery rhymes, and counting songs,
In psalms and arias, and every blues and rock lyric,
Right there, so right ******* there,
In Kris Kristofferson/Janice Joplin parlance of the times:
“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

And life for me since then--
ONE BIG, FAT-TITTED INCOMPREHENSIBILITY!

What was that Walter Sobjak in The Big Lebowski said?

“This is not 'Nam.
This is bowling.
There are rules.”

Christophe Lemaire is a no frills, no fuss designer. After working as the artistic director of Lacoste and Hermès, Lemaire decided to give his full attention to his independent fashion brand, Lemaire, with partner Sarah-Linh Tran. The brand, which focuses on elevated pieces for everyday life, completed two very successfulcapsule collections with Uniqlo (both of which were called Uniqlo x Lemaire). When the time came for a third collection, however, Lemaire wanted to take his role at Uniqlo one step further, even if it meant personally devoting less time to his growing independent brand. "[It was] a little bit agitating, because I had just decided to focus on my own brand," Lemaire explains. "I didn't want to go back to more discussion, but I felt it was really something interesting to do, and I always dreamt of working for Uniqlo."

This summer, Lemaire was appointed as artistic director of the new Uniqlo Paris R&D; Centre, where he leads research and development for the LifeWear brand, and has designed a new Uniqlo line, Uniqlo U. The line takes clothing basics to a new level, focusing on quality and luxury to redefine Uniqlo's familiar essentials such as t-shirts and down jackets. The result is what Lemaire has strived to do with his own brand—everyday clothing for everyday life—for a wider audience. "It's a little bit of a humble approach, putting the same level of heart and passion that you can have in high fashion, but into an industrial product," says Lemaire.

NATALIA BARR: You said that you left your role at Hermès to focus on your own brand. Is your own brand still such a big priority for you?

CHRISTOPHE LEMAIRE: That's why I hesitated. I really thought about it a lot. I just wanted to make sure I would be able to set the right team, because I very much believe in the collective work and the team dynamic. With the right team, you can really save so much time and energy. Whereas if you don't have the right environment and the right support from the company, or the right team, it can be extremely tiring and frustrating. Today, I can say I have this great team at Uniqlo and of course at Lemaire. Also, at Lemaire, there is Sarah-Lin [Tran], my partner. We decided to not work together on this new Uniqlo project, so she would focus more on Lemaire, and I spend my time between Uniqlo and Lemaire. With great teams on both sides, it works—it's exciting and inspiring.

BARR: How did your past roles at other brands prepare you for this role you have now?

LEMAIRE: Being a head designer or art director or just even a designer, you need a certain level of experience and maturity. It's true that I've made mistakes, but I know I shouldn't do them again. [There are] so many things I've learned, and I'm still learning, actually. At Lacoste, I learned how to drive in a very conservative environment. I had to learn how to do politics, how to talk, how to explain, and how to communicate a vision, and the necessary link between marketing and creative teams. Also, very important, the shop experience, which was actually very frustrating at Lacoste. At Hermès it's different. I learned, maybe more than anywhere else, how to work around a legacy, and how to integrate a strong brand culture into my work. Also, to work with a completely different projection system and craftsmanship. Every company, of course, teaches you so much humanly and professionally [about] yourself and your creative process.

BARR: What is it about Uniqlo that made you dream of working there?

LEMAIRE: If I really think about what drove me from the beginning to become a designer, it is really the idea of trying to make everyday life a little bit better—to make it more functional, more desirable, to improve quality of life somehow. Through designing clothes, I try to bring solutions to people, and I'm interested in the everyday relationship we have to clothes. I'm not a designer who is very interested in baroque or in fantasy or in the fantastic side of fashion. This exists and this is important, but I'm interested in the very real dimensions. I'm interested in the poetry of reality. I try to bring as much taste, smartness, quality, functionality, and aesthetic qualities to everyday clothes. I'm interested in the intimate relationships we can have with those good clothes that we may have in our closets. I think we all have those particular pieces of clothes that we really like, because it ages well, because it fits you well, because you feel comfortable, and you feel confident in those clothes. All those aspects of good design are what I'm interested in. I'm trying just to do good clothes, clothes that you need as much as you want. For me, Uniqlo is an amazing environment. They have an amazing production system, and they have this capacity of bringing the best quality at the best price. There is something very democratic about it, which I really appreciate.

BARR: What was the inspiration for the Uniqlo U collection?

LEMAIRE: When we met with my team to start the very first collection, I told them, "Let's forget about themes and mood boards. Let's start from a different point of view. You have to leave for two months all of a sudden. What would you put in your suitcase? What are the twenty essential pieces that you will need and how would you design it to be cool, and you'll want to wear it?" That's just a different approach. It's about trying to propose, every season, the perfect wardrobe of elevated basics.

BARR: How is this collection different from your past collaborations with Uniqlo?

LEMAIRE: The past collaboration was very much a collaboration between Lemaire and Uniqlo. It was very much Sarah-Lin and I bringing a Lemaire twist to a Uniqlo environment. This one was different, because we really are extremely faithful to the DNA. I had to convince Uniqlo about that because at first, they wanted us to do a new collaboration. Then we said, "No, we have to focus on our brand." Then they said, "Why don't we put your name on the label, and it's Christophe Lemaire for Uniqlo?" And I said, "No. Fashion people will care, but I don't think Uniqlo consumers will. Let's try to bring more style into basics, and let's touch real people all around the world, people who don't really care who Christophe Lemaire is." It's not a short designer collaboration. The idea is to bring another layer of constant product that is Uniqlo, and complementary to the main line.

BARR: How do you approach designing a collection that is meant to carry basics in a fresh and artistic way?

LEMAIRE: This is what I've always been interested in, trying to make timeless, functional, real clothes. Everywhere I've been working, I always had in mind the final destination of the clothes, which is the consumer. For me, the fashion show, the image, the shooting, is just a step. It's just a moment, but it's not the final destination. There are so many things to do within that concept of basic with a twist. It's very subtle. It's a thin line between becoming too fashionable or becoming boring. You have to find this balance to create something that is obvious, but at the same time exciting. I don't know if we achieved that, but this is what we had in mind. How we get to that, it's difficult to explain. It depends, but it might be the color, the details, or the choice in the material. I'm proud of what we came up with in terms of product. I don't think a fast fashion brand can really say the same about the quality of the product. We come up with products that are of good qualities in terms of lasting and the way it ages. If not, it's a failure for us.

BARR: Do you have a favorite piece or part of the collection?

LEMAIRE: That's a tricky one. The sweaters are amazing. The knitwear is very good quality. My personal favorite is a simple crewneck sweatshirt for men that I wear every day, just because of the quality of it. It's a French terry. It's quite heavy and round. We were actually surprised to be able to do that for Uniqlo, because even in the good sportswear, streetwear brands, you can't find that quality. Simple things like that, that make my life easier.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/mermaid-trumpet-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/blue-formal-dresses

I met two Vietnamese
men this morning,
just outside my hotel.
They invited me to drink tea
and flexed about philosophy.

One of them told me that
Le Quy Don was the greatest scholar
that Vietnam has produced.

The other one disagreed
and wanted to tell me about
Tran Duc Thao

“He’s a Marxist and traitor”
Said Le Quy Don’s man.
I just drank some tea and listened.

Now some say how can this be?
You cannot speak Vietnamese,
and their English is poor.

So I tell them I keep searching the streets
and I wonder about words.
And the next thing is that everything is still there.
A blast of colour is a silent world.

Chapter XXV
Messiah of Judah Part II
Miracle III – Nazareth

Parasychological regression, Vernarth describes by voice of the Apostle Saint John:

“They were all coming from Capernaum, with INRI's inlaid shutters in each one's hands, Alikanto on his hooves and Petrobus on his webbed golden fingers. Everyone walked unevenly, perhaps because from the Higher Consciousness; Our Father had leaned south-central to west, tilting the earth by twelve degrees, causing him to change course to Nazareth. The miraculous thing was seeing how the Petrobus and Alikanto animals felt them and saw sounds coming out of their mouths in octaves multiplied by eight; that is, sixty-four inverted notes.  Averaging the notes that came backwards to be heard in his retro melody, perhaps diverting them to a hillside in Canaan. After such a miraculous phenomenon, the golden eagles landed on the heads of the twelve camels, diverting them to Nazareth, guiding them to an ancient stone where the inscriptions in Hebrew - Aramaic "Scion-Branch" are sighted. They were all sweating on their Gigas camels like Nazarene princes, reigning the consolation of bifurcating like the ground even beyond the two-dimensional concept of Nazareth, like a scion proclaiming the ominous prophetics of the Messiah or proclaiming the Branch in sacred circulation, to have a perspective 360 °, for the ancient worldview, being housed as a perfect clone over the geography of Nazareth in its 14.14 square km, lying in the southern mountains of Lower Galilee, 10 km north of Mount Tabor and 23 km west of the Sea of Galilee.

Miracles must be outlined between the extreme points of each cross ..., the stature of the image between head and foot, the cosmogony of the link between Nazareth and Capernaum and vice versa, the mysteries of the silence of those who only see in the clear and dark of Marian repentance , would now face everyone with the Gene of credulity. The Giga Camels, tirelessly led them with their wise feet from Capernaum. Here is the Miracle; they were at the fourteenth station in Jerusalem, and then St. Ioannis, explaining his childhood memories with his family in Bethsaida. It was then from here that in some corner of its inspiration, in which the valleys would turn towards another geological family to present it on the table with renewed olive oils together with its parents. Where they would leave directly guided by the golden eagles towards the stone of Nazareth.

Vernarth describes in the voice of Saint John:
"Archangel Uriel dictates him; Those who preach alone in the streets or on the corners preach the rejection of those who do not count how many times they approved or challenged them, and at least the times that more than any extreme, they had to be heard beyond the farthest recesses in the that they will not be able to know to be recognized”

Saint John continues: “On this tacit diameter in the narrow part of the pear that is towards the south and opens through a narrow and sinuous gorge towards the Plain of Esdraelon. It would be indicated here as "the top of the mountain" from where they wanted to throw Jesus down. " But the traditional place does not have a true ravine, as a story would seem to demand. Just beyond, towards a spring in the town, is the so-called Fuente de la Virgen, in which María obtained the sacred water for her family there. "In this super diameter, Etréstles wanted to look for his childhood periods of the Messiah and thus be able to see him advance in his growth, but he knew that it could not be verified, perhaps the hidden mystery of the offspring that only grows in the discord of Nazareth, invaded by alien civilizations that did not allow them to stretch their limits beyond the entire concordant Universe. On Patmos I always had the precognition that above ..., above the doors of the unknown, there will be anti-material physiognomies that will move the offspring that in twin earths would be housed in Judah. As we approached the perimeter of the city, we dared to cross, I thought we would be greeted by a spear or a jailer mastiff of an emperor, who would ****** us from staying in the city of the Messiah's family, with their prophecies uprooting to anonymity, that he would wake up in the "Inscription of Nazareth", the text of which contains the decree issued by another Roman emperor, not mentioned, that prohibits under penalty of death the robberies of graves, including those of relatives, or changing a body from a tomb to another. The date of registration is discussed. Some place it at the beginning of the empire period; others in the second century AD. It is highly unlikely that they have any direct bearing on the ignoble accusation made to us disciples that we had stolen the body of our Master. I keep rambling without exactitude from what I say, it has been dozens of years without being here, I only know that the rhythm of the music of the religious cultists of Nazareth attracts me. Just as I heard him when they were at the height of a rosea vine near the house of Mary in Nazareth…, here Uriel describes them about Nicodemus:

Uriel says: (Meditation of Saint John the Apostle)
“Nicodemus talks about the meaning of being born again and mentions the Kingdom of Heaven, very rare in the Johannine texts,  Jesus was surprised, in short, to see that a teacher in Israel did not understand the discourse on rebirth in the spirit. Later, in the council of princes of the priests and Pharisees, Nicodemus defends Jesus by explaining to his companions that they must hear and investigate before making a final judgment. The question they ask may imply that Nicodemus was a Galilean or it could be an irony of his companions. "

I continue to myself from today rambling without exactitude in what I say ..., it is dozens of years without being here, I only know that the rhythm of the music of the religious cults of Nazareth will attract me. These images will make me observe Vernarth warn in my, and in all these advanced episodes, this transmits Saint John the Apostle. Eurydice took note, and dared to dance in the hot senses that throbbed under her feet, signaling her to renew herself in a Scion of the seed that grows hidden in the shyness of every Nazarene born here.

Expressions of freedom and glory appear in the village, everyone dances in the part of the ministerial dances attached to the Holy Spirit. Fluid dance ministered by the Levites and worshipers of the Lord God Almighty God or Yahweh, spontaneously, salvific and with healing weaving the existential and vernacular ribs of the chosen people worshiping the Prophet. Using all the dances united and anointed them enjoyed the ceremony. Vernarth believed his magical ears resounded with Levitical echoes, being under the supra-starry sky of the Christian world that repeated itself, returning when a new one appeared in each interval of the dances, they all did them as they went and returned with the pillars of their Faith rolling, and covered them with the cloak of night flooded in ceremonial vines and ministerial loaves like a great vault in a great prophetic mansion. Here where the Messiah from the sky will climb your senses. The maidens will be reached by their adoration, wielding branches in their eyes of life, restoration, sacred sensuality and death, reflected in the clothes and in each look like a mirror before the Lord pleasing him. Feeling, emotion and art, all dancing like alpha beginners, until the end of the unsupported omega dance. We will meet a company of prophets who descend from on high, preceded by lutes, drums, flutes and harps. Thus the sons and daughters will be celebrating with the cherubs in unequivocal steps praising him. This Hebrew dance or biblio dance will end in adoration on a warm night, which continues to reach the most imperceptible senses, where everyone dances and intertwines with contained Tran’s love, with everyone celebrating in the ceremony. After going to the shops near the Messiah's house to sleep concelebrating in tiny circles. They were all very excited ..., not being able to sleep, believing not to believe that perhaps they would never experience something like this again, in a city to live it forever or not ..., eating and drinking the same Nazarene Bread and Wine ...

To be continued / under edit

WELL, JOANNIE, MY DEAR

Well, Joannie, my dear,
here you are again,
slim and graceful as
you always are, your voice
hanging in the air.
Beauty that goes deeper
than your heart, melodies
that so fall apart, but I love
you so I pick them out
of air and hand them back
to you.

I see you all of your life, your
singing on stage like a recur-
ring dream, black hair falling
over brown skin, thin and
thick at the same time, rhyme
and rhythm mixing into a
stream of love that courses
through me endlessly. I kiss
your guitar that never goes
afar but is always on your
hip;  I’ll not let it slip.

I see you singing to one
fellow in the third row, then
realize he sits almost ever-
where, floating on every chord,
Lord knows how many men
have fallen in love with you.
But I do not misconstrue;  I know
you are the world’s love, and I
share you with eternity and bliss
and share your every kiss with
all who need your wisdom and
warmth. As I’m with you every
day, I say, “Baez, you are fighting
wars, putting just into justice,
loving Dr. King, willing to die
for him, stopping only to re-
ceive another accolade, which
you place into your silky black
hair, so fair.

I am with you even when you’re
far away. I stay in you when you’re
in Bangladesh and Montreal. Your
face stays young, Your voice, too,
is as fresh as Spring, and though
your hair is grayer now, I see you
as you always are, ageless, tran-
scending time.

God bless you for the life you’ve
lived, an easing of the strife of billions,
No minions there, just you on
stage, your guitar that floats
through air, love and bliss
that blesses and kisses every
soul you sing to.

Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks

Make up or no make up, black or white. Skinny, toned, bigger shaped or curvy. Blemishes, freckles, moles or flawless.
Male or female, straight or gay, bi or Tran. Mental illness, body issues, physical disability or not.

Try not to be to harsh on yourself, try to complement strangers, friends and family members. Try to accept yourself and everyone around you regardless of there shape, size, colour and appearances.

You are all beautiful in your own ways.
I know somedays we can all be so cruel to ourselves. I know we don’t always see what others see with in ourselves.

Try not to compare yourself to others, try to be kind to yourself and remember that you are enough no matter what your flaws are, skin colour, race, size or shape that you simply are.

We all have imperfections.
Remember know one is perfect, but to someone you might be there idea of perfection and I hope one day you can see yourselves the way everyone else does.

Acceptance..

©

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