"Rhythm, Ritual, Respect" - Mestre Ousado

"Olha para voce discrever a Capoeira Angola, nao e necessario de dizer que e lenta pois na verdade os movimentos da Capoeira Angola sao usados de acordo com a necessidade dentro do jogo e tambem e necessario acompanhar o ritmo da Bateria. Entao em algum momento o jogo pode ser lento e outro nao. De outra de facil de descrever a Capoeira Angola e so dizer que trata-se da Capoeira de tradicao a mais ANTIGA. Jogo ele pode ser o tempo todo em baixo como tambem pode ser em cima. Espero ter respondido suas perguntas e fique a vontade em pergunta o que voce tiver duvida.

Um abraco
Mestre Roxinho"

from google translator:

Look at you discrever Capoeira Angola, not necessary to say that because in fact, slow movements of Capoeira Angola are used according to need in the game and is also necessary to keep pace with the battery. So at some point the game can be slow and not another. Otherwise easy to describe Capoeira Angola and only say that it is the tradition of Capoeira to the oldest. Game he can be the whole time low as may also be on top. I hope I answered your questions and feel free to question what you have doubts.

A hug
Master Roxinho

~~~

Keep Your Head On

Mestre Roxinho hugged me and grabbed my head with gritty hands hahaha

This means so many things for my angola.

The heart beats; the weapon unsheathed.

Sometimes it's heavy... a tool, a weapon. It's unfamiliar. It's not yours. To play it you must claim it, own the instrument, to use it.
Yet sometimes it's so easy to get along with. The rhythm, the beat is natural... this is your song, this is your music.

Focus.

M.-Andorinha shares.

Brainju digests.

A team is only as strong as it's weakest link. Even [the village idiot] will take one for the team, so you won't turn that person away because he'll take it and will keep coming back for more.

On the other hand, do you really need the team if the axe in the roda makes us one group... sharing one game. If the axe is good, you wouldn't care if one is Angola, Regional, Senzala, Contemporanea because we're all playing one game and the axe unites us.

"I am here, I will stay. I may not be the best of them, but I am still here. And that's the important thing."

The day will come when we all have to decide our paths... to be a player, an acrobat, a teacher. That day I think is still far along, but each day we take another step ... it becomes closer.

Berimbau

a readable, shareable.

read and share

Angola

Obviously it was much clearer this morning, if that can be said of dreams... since dreams are so wispy.
Problem is I can't understand my scribbles at the moment.

Let me try to remember ... we were in my room looking out that window again.
It was a factory of eva hats.
The girl with white hair (Christie from DOA) looked up and saw us so we have to run.
We reached the small broomcloset above the stairs and Joyce pulled down the old ceiling hatch with relief. A small plastic hello kitty dangler marked how long ago we've played there. I stuck my arm in... no way we could all fit... it wasn't even deep enough. We can't hide there.
"I used to fit in there" Joyce kythed.
We split up.
The Legion were after us. The Legion of kids or something. Five of them. They were all in the violet Wonder Twins costume (with cape). I was on the other side of the poolside and I could see them through the holes on the wall *location: ica poolside*
They can't cross the pool of course. They can however run to the far side together to where we were.

Cameron was in a grey suit. (Alan Ruck, google, Ferris Bueler)he heaved off a wooden door and slammed it over another. He opened the door. We walked through.
We passed by Daphne. She was very pregnant with very stick-thin legs. Velma was useless. She was helping her into the yellow VW. Fred should have been there waving goodbye.

We were in a narrow dark alleyway with doors one after another at the right side of the building. Cameron unhinged one easily. It had a decorative glass window, very pretty. It must be his power to use doors as portals. He put this one over a boring gate looking door and I'm glad the glass didn't shatter. He ran away without using the door. Perhaps to make our pursuers think that he used that door. I went the other way.

Passed an old car in the dark driveway. I wondered what would happen if he put a door over the car door. Would it work?

There are a few people by the walls. It is dark and so are they. There is a man on the street by the pavement with a boombox.

I heard the berimbau. This was Mestre. He was playing alone. The dark man with a knitted muslim white cap was playing the berimbau by the wall. I asked to play with the Mestre. My legs were stiff from running and my ankle hurt but I did not feel nervous, excited or anything. I just wished to play with him.

I hate my game, I kythed. He merely smiled, he was old, wrinkled, crooked and very brown. He turned me to negativa and to role. Helped my stiff legs turn. Au cabeca role, high then low. He was just grinning like a fool. Ponte. I want to show him my better game.

Thank you for the game we kythed each other, I woke up.

I played with the Mestre. He went along with my thread of thought even if it was me who asked to join in his solo game.

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Inquirer takes a look at Capoeira in the Philippines.
Clickity
IE! Lealdade E Fidelidade!