September 21, 2009

A thing of beauty is a joy forever

Posted in Art : Beauty, Environment, Philosophy tagged , at 1:10 am by randallbutisingh

This quote is taken from a poem by John Keats, the English Romantic lyric poet who died at the young age of twenty six.  He was one of the famous Lake poets, the other two were Lord Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley.  Keats also wrote some  Odes which, among others, were his most distinctive achievements.  Ode to Autumn, Ode to the Nightingale and Ode to the Grecian urn are but a few.  Beauty like love never dies.  There are a number of things which I cannot forget as long as I live.  I remember one day walking along the road when I saw the woman who loved me coming towards me.  When she saw me she flashed me one of those beautiful smiles which only she could.  It was like the freshness of a breeze.  I cannot forget that.  Then there was the day as I was walking to school, I spied a lone wild white flower in the green field.  It attracted my attention.  I stopped and gazed at it for some time oblivious of time, then there was the time when I was pulling weeds in my garden when I saw two tiny bluebells among the weeds.  I was entranced by them; I stopped and gazed at them for a while and could not bear pulling them out; so I left them there to blow.   Shortly after I wrote a poem about them – Wild Flowers – which could be found in my weblog.

There are other incidents in my life, but I just mentioned these few to show that  Beauty is Truth, and Truth like Love is enduring, therefore  a thing of beauty is a joy forever.  Hats off to  Young Jonn Keats.

– Randall Butisingh


September 15, 2009

Anything is possible

Posted in Art : Beauty, Guyana, Poetry tagged , , at 2:45 am by randallbutisingh

“Anything is Possible ” is a poem written by 14 year old Ananta Doodnath, eldest of two daughters of Guyanese Dave and Shani Doodnath,  who had to leave their homeland and come to domicile in a foreign country where they will have an opportunity to bloom and grow.  The poem is taken from her book  “Moments of My Life” which can be purchased at Book Stores in the USA.

Ananta spends her time writing short stories and poems and dreams of one day writing a best seller.  Her poems are about different events in her life about family and friends and baseball.  They will fill you with wonder and touch you.  Ananta is known for her kindness among her family and friends.  Here is her poem:

When I race out on that field, dreams come true.

When my feet touch the bases, I know what I am supposed to do

When people said I wouldn’t make it; when people said I couldn’t win’

It made my guts stronger, I knew I could anything.

I’d never forget what I went through to be here.

I’d never forget when I walked through town and the people

would stare.

I’ll never forget those times.

Now I realize

What has happened to me;

I made it and I wanted  everyone to see;

I want the whole world to know

That anything is possible.

I overcame those challenges, I worked my way through,

And now I can live my life saying my dreams come true;

And now when I am running those bases, I know I can fly,

And now I know anything can happen if you really try.

I’m amazing, I’m fun

And now I believe I’m number one. 

I’ll never forget those times,

Years later when I realize

What has happened to me.

I made it and I want everyone to see;

I want the whole world to know

That anything is possible!


Another  daughter of  Guyanese achiever.  I am friend of the family.  Ananta must have inherited her talent from her grandfather who was a pupil of mine at Non Pareil dual controlled School.  He dropped out in the middle division of the primary school.  He is now a successful business man in Florida, an ardent gardener and a prolific writter of poetry.  He has produced a book,  Inspirational Poems and has another large collection, yet unpublished.

– Randall Butisingh 

September 2, 2009

Nature and art

Posted in Art : Beauty, Philosophy tagged , , at 8:22 pm by randallbutisingh

Poem by: – Walter Savage-Landor..

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;

Nature I loved best and next to Nature, Art;

I warm’d both hands before the fire of life,

It sinks, and  I am ready to depart.

– Walter Savage-Landor..


It is a pity that the poet’s brilliant intellect could not have navigated the invisible and infinite ocean of reality which others before and after him have done.  The ability to intuit transcends the intellect where reason fails.  So the material world and its prcesses which can  give only  temporary pleasure, and which change and corrupt,  remain the only possibility.

– Randall Butisingh

September 1, 2009

A garden is a lovesome thing

Posted in Art : Beauty, Environment tagged , , at 9:06 pm by randallbutisingh

A garden is a lovesome thing

God wot!

Fringed pool,

Ferned grot.

The veriest school of Peace; and yet the fool contends

that God is not –

Not God!  – in Gardens! when the eve is cool?

Nay, but I have a sign,

‘Tis very sure God walks in mine.

–Thomas Edward Brown (1830 – 1897).


Agriculture is the noblest profession  and the farmer the most important of all workers because on him depends the sustenance of the human race.  He grows the food the world has to eat.  Air and water the prime necessities are free, but food for the nourishment of the human body has to be grown.  The Farmer is the co-creator with God.  He plants and waters, but God gives the increase.

The poet, though was speaking of a beautiful Flower Garden where one can go for relaxation and refreshment of spirit in the evening and enjoy the beauty of the flowers – an ambiance conducive to peace and quiet; or as I put it in one of my poems -VIGILANCE BEACH –  (where) ” Remote from the toil and strife of busy life, I sit and dream in peace.”

There is also a song in the the HYMNAL  which puts a visit to the Garden very nicely.  It goes:

I come to the garden alone   While the dew is still on the roses;   And the voice I hear falling on my ear,  The Son of God discloses;   And He walks with me and He talks with me  and He tells me I am His own,    And the joy we share as we tarry there,  None other has never known.

There are two more stanzas to this Hymn which can be found in  THE HYMNAL  of the West Lauderdale Baptist Church.

– Randall Butisingh

August 23, 2009

Perception, Taste and Priorities

Posted in Art : Beauty, Philosophy, Psychology tagged , , , , at 4:04 am by randallbutisingh

How true…  Interesting experiment.  Kindly read to the end.

    Washington , DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007 The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. 
 After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.
4 minutes later:   The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.
6 minutes:   A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. 
10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.
45 minutes: The musician played continuously.  Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money, but continued to walk at their normal pace.  The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:  He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. 

 No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the Metro Station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and people’s priorities. The questions raised: “In a common place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?”

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…. How many other things are we missing.


August 17, 2009

“THE DANCE” – video

Posted in Art : Beauty, Philosophy tagged , , , at 9:40 pm by randallbutisingh

 Every once and a while you see something that touches your heart and this would be one of those beautiful true stories. Please enjoy and celebrate the strength of the human spirit. This is the video but read the story before watching it.
VIDEO: One leg man and one arm woman dance

In a Chinese modern dance competition on TV one very unique couple won one of the top prizes. The lady, in her 30 ‘ s, was a dancer who had trained since she was a little girl. Later in life, she lost her entire left arm in an accident and fell into a state of depression for a few years.

Someone then asked her to coach a Children ‘ s dancing group. From that point on, she realized that she could not forget dancing. She still loved to dance and wanted to dance again. So, she started to do some of her old routines, but, having lost her arm, she had also lost her balance.

It took a while before she could even make simple turns and spins without falling. Then she heard of a man in his 20s when had lost a leg in an accident. He had also fallen into the usual denial, depression and anger type of emotional roller coaster. But, she was determined to find him and persuade him to dance with her…He had never danced, and to dance with one leg….are you joking with me?? “No way!”

But, she didn ‘ t give up, and he reluctantly agreed thinking, “I have nothing else to do anyway.” She started to teach him dancing. The two broke up a few times because he had no concept of using muscle, how to control his body, and knew none of the basic things about dancing.. When she became frustrated and lost patience with him, he would walk out. Eventually, they came back together and started training seriously.

They hired a choreographer to design routines for them. She would fly high (held by him) with both arms (a sleeve for an arm) flying in the air. He could bend horizontally supported by one leg with her leaning on him, etc

In the competition, as you will see, they dance beautifully and they legitimately won the competition.

Momentto ~ Vivere ~ Remember to LIVE!

August 10, 2009

Deaf-Mutes Perform:Thousand-Hand Guan Yin

Posted in Art : Beauty, Education, Philosophy, Poetry tagged , , , , , , at 2:09 am by randallbutisingh

This video has been submitted by Cyril Bryan – Guest Contributor, for inclusion in the Randall Butisingh Weblog.

This is an awesome dance called the Thousand-Hand Guan Yin, which is very popular on the Internet, with over six million views to date. All the 21 dancers in this troupe are deaf-mutes. Considering the tight coordination required, their accomplishment is nothing short of amazing, even if they were not all deaf. They rely only on signals from trainers at the four corners of the stage, these extraordinary dancers deliver a visual spectacle that is at once intricate and stirring. Its first major international debut was in  Athens at the closing ceremonies for the 2004 Paralympics. But it had long been in the repertoire of the Chinese Disabled People’s Performing Art Troupe which has traveled to more than 40 countries.
Its lead dancer is 29 year old Tai Lihua, who has a BA from the Hubei Fine Arts Institute.The video was recorded in  Beijing during the Spring Festival in 2006.

I have included this video as it exemplifies the philosophy of this Weblog of personal development irrespective of the setbacks or seeming shortcomings that one may have.

— Cyril Bryan


Please click on the following link to view the video:

Deaf-Mutes Perform \”Thousand-Hand Guan Yin\”


As long as you are kind and there is love in your heart
A thousand hands will naturally come to your aid
As long as you are kind and there is love in your heart
You will reach out with a thousand hands to help others.

Guan Yin is the bodhisattva of compassion, revered by Buddhists as the Goddess of Mercy. Her name is short for Guan Shi Yin. Guan means to observe, watch, or monitor; Shi means the world; Yin means sounds, specifically sounds of those who suffer. Thus, Guan Yin is a compassionate being who watches for, and responds to, the people in the world who cry out for help.

August 8, 2009

art and when time stands still

Posted in Art : Beauty, Poetry tagged , , , , , at 6:27 pm by randallbutisingh

The pursuit of Art, which I am doing, now, is an exercise in creativity. It is when one begins to observe more of the wonders of hature:  the blueness  of the sky, the fleecy clouds, the loveliness of flowers, even the tiniest wild one along the path, the singing  birds and insects, the babbling brook, the murmuring waves of the sea.  One becomes more inquisitive and wants to learn more of the ways of nature

It is sad to know,  how many possesed fully of  all their senses pass by without heeding the beauties around them, their only concern is how much they can wrest from nature to satisfy their greed, even to the extent of destroying her.

The Artist, however, be he painter or sculptor, does not destroy but creates.  In the process,  time stands still;  and  in the height of his creativity, he is out of his body also.  Then he becomes unaware of pain,  hunger and thirst and the world around.  He is focussed until he is brought back to find that time has travelled far, and he begins again to feel   pain,  hunger and thirst

I would like to make a note  here, that this is not only an experience of the Artist where it is more sustained, but with any one who is focussed on doing something he loves, even in the peeling of a wand; or a sick person receiving a visit from a loving friend, or two lovers  in silent communication.  Or it may be in absorption in a game of chess or checkers.  Those who have read the novel “R ip Van Winkle” will know what I am talking about.  Deeply absorbed in a game of draughts, his beard grew to full length; he himself grew very old. When he came back to time he tried to find the home in which he lived and his family but everything had changed and he was lost.

— Randall Butisingh

July 21, 2009

So True!

Posted in Art : Beauty, Education, Poetry, Psychology, Youth tagged , , , at 11:45 am by randallbutisingh


by: Kimberly Seals Allers

Tuesday I cried watching the Michael Jackson memorial.
I cried for a little black boy who felt the world didn’t understand him.
I cried for a little black boy who spent his adulthood chasing his childhood.
And I thought about all the young black boys out there who may too feel
that the world doesn’t understand them.
The ones who feel that the world does not understand their baggy jeans,
their swagger, their music, their anger, their struggles, their fears or the chip on their shoulder.
I worry that my son, may too, one day will feel lonely in a wide, wide world.
I cried for the young children of all colors who may live their life feeling like a misfit,
feeling like no one understands their perspective, or their soul.
What a burden to carry.

As a mother, I cried for Katherine Jackson because no mother should ever bury a child. Period.
And I think about all the pain, tears and sleepless nights
that she must have endured seeing her baby boy in inner pain,
seeing him struggle with his self-esteem,
and his insecurities and to know he often felt unloved even
while the world loved him deeply.
How does it feel to think that the unconditional love we give as mothers
just isn’t enough to make our children feel whole?
I wonder if she still suffers thinking, “what more could I have done?”
Even moms of music legends aren’t immune to mommy guilt, I suppose.

When Rev. Al Sharpton (who always delivers one hell of a funeral speech)
said to Michael’s children, “Your daddy was not strange…
It was strange what your Daddy had to deal with,” I thought of all the “strange”
things of the world that my children will have to deal with. Better yet,
the things I hope they won’t ever have to deal with anymore.
And as a mother raising a young black boy,

I feel recommitted and yet a little confused as to how to make sure my son is sure enough
within himself to take on the world.
Especially a “strange” one. To love himself enough to know
that even when the world doesn’t understand you,
tries to force you into its mold or treats you unkindly,
you are still beautiful, strong and Black. How do I do that?
Today, I am taking back “childhood” as an inalienable right for every brown little one.

In a world, that makes children into booty-shaking, mini-adults long before their time,
I’m reclaiming the playful, innocent, run-around-outside,
childhood as the key ingredient in raising confident adults.
Second, I will not rest until my little black boy,
MY Michael, knows that his broad nose is beautiful,
his chocolately brown skin is beautiful, and his thick hair is beautiful.And nothing or no one can ever take that away from him.


“Now aint we bad? And ain’t we black? And ain’t we fine?”

— Maya Angelou

February 14, 2009

thoughts for valentine’s day

Posted in Art : Beauty, Friendship, Philosophy, Poetry tagged , , , , at 6:09 pm by randallbutisingh


Limited love asks for possession of the beloved, but the unlimited love asks only for itself.

Will you accept the heart that accepts but never yields?  And burns but never melts?  Will you be at ease with a soul that quivers before the Tempest but never surrenders to it?  Will you accept one as a companion who makes not slaves nor will become one?  Will you own me but not possess me?

Then here is my hand – grasp it with your beautiful hand and here is my Body –embrace it with your loving Arms; and here are my lips – bestow upon them a deep and dizzying kiss.

Love is the only freedom in the world because it so elevates the spirit that the laws of humanity and the phenomena of nature do not alter its course


– Khalil Gibran.


True love, which is unconditional, does not seek to possess, but to give perfect freedom; for this kind of love is not for the body, the comeliness of which fades, but for the soul.   It endures;  even death cannot end it,  It is eternal. In this kind of love, as St. Paul puts it:  Love is patient and kind, it is not jealous or conceited or proud; it is not ill-mannered or selfish or irritable; it does not keep records of wrongs; love is not happy with evil but with the truth.  Love never gives up and its faith, hope and patience never fail.  (Good news translation).

Life cannot be blue if you’ve something to love; For no one truly lives who does not truly love.

– Randall Butisingh.

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