Lemonade
Jackie-O and Strayz (AKA The Soundheads)

This track Lemonade is from years back during The Soundheads period but didn’t make the album. I’m currently working on a  solo album with the help of some talented folks. Not much longer now….



Overdue You
Jackie-O

Pregnancy 12 bar blues
Jackie-O

Jerusalem


German original[4]English translationKomm, süßer Tod, komm selge Ruh!Komm führe mich in Friede,weil ich der Welt bin müde,ach komm! ich wart auf dich,komm bald und führe mich,drück mir die Augen zu.Komm, selge Ruh!Come, sweet death, come blessed rest!Come lead me to peacefor I am weary of the world,oh come! I wait for you,come soon and lead me,close my eyes.Come, blessed rest!Komm, süßer Tod, komm, selge Ruh!Im Himmel ist es besser,da alle Lust viel größer,drum bin ich jederzeitschon zum Valet bereit,ich schließ die Augen zu.Komm, selge Ruh!Come, sweet death, come blessed rest!It is better in heaven,for there is all pleasure greater,therefore I am at all timesprepared to say “Farewell,”I close my eyes.Come, blessed rest!Komm, süßer Tod, komm, selge Ruh!O Welt, du Marterkammer,ach! bleib mit deinem Jammerauf dieser Trauerwelt,der Himmel mir gefällt,der Tod bringt mich darzu.Komm, selge Ruh!Come, sweet death, come blessed rest!Oh world, you torture chamber,oh! stay with your lamentationsin this world of sorrow,it is heaven that I desire,death shall bring me there.Come, blessed rest!Komm, süßer Tod, komm, selge Ruh!O, dass ich doch schon wäredort bei der Engel Heere,aus dieser schwarzen Weltins blaue Sternenzelt,hin nach dem Himmel zu.O: selge Ruh!Come, sweet death, come blessed rest!Oh, that I were but alreadythere among the hosts of angels,out of this black worldinto the blue, starry firmament,up to heaven.Oh, blessed rest!Komm, süßer Tod, komm, selge Ruh!Ich will nun Jesum sehenund bei den Engeln stehen.Es ist nunmehr vollbracht,drum, Welt, zu guter Nacht,mein Augen sind schon zu.Komm, selge Ruh!Come, sweet death, come blessed rest!I will now see Jesusand stand among the angels.It is henceforth completed,so, world, good night,my eyes are already closed.Come, blessed rest.


Young Rider
Jackie


jAcKiE n kImOn 

Ramallah Jam session March 2012


HURT
Kimon and Jackie

Nine inch nails cover 


Week 4 in 4 minutes


Interviewed Tammi Molad-Hayo for a behind the scenes scoop of All For Peace radio

A journalist by profession and a peace and social justice activist, Tammi is the program manager for All for Peace and currently hosts the morning show, a current affairs live show that tackles the real issues that interest the Israeli Public (the economy, human and civil rights, feminist issues, etc), as well as other programs. She is also the co-editor of “On The Left Side”, an online column, and works with other social change organizations such as the Citizens Accord Forum, Festival Beshekel, and the Israeli Center for Social Justice. She also teaches social economics and social activism in various educational frameworks, and currently resides in west Jerusalem with her family.


East side to west side

Volunteering at All For Peace Radio.

staying at this sweet hostel. 

Everyday day something exciting happens here in 

the Holy City of Jerusalem.

Music by 13 and God, Myself



Stepping back in time, Today was a big day that made this trip 100% more special and worth every penny plus some. I woke up around 8am, had breakfast with my hostel mates that led into a heated discussion about the conflict with some Aussies. It felt good to finally discuss the issue. That conversation put a fire under my butt so I went back to my room and found numerous organizations to contact for volunteer work. I stumbled upon this website: http://www.justvision.org/organizations which was extremely helpful. I contacted about 10 organizations and confirmed a volunteer position with this radio station http://allforpeace.org/eng/ and it starts on Thursday at 12. It seemed to take forever but I just had to keep up the search. I knew someone would respond eventually.  Following the excitement from that I was on another mission to find yoga in English. I found this one www.flowjerusalem.com and begin on Friday, a few teachers emailed me back but this teacher sent me the most pleasant message so I choose her, not even knowing the cost. This all took too much time, which was maddening. I wanted nothing more than to explore my new found love of this old gorgeous city filled with the brightest fruit I’ve ever laid eyes on and stone cave like passage ways that wrap around for miles it seems.  I set out on another mission for today. To find the Jerusalem YMCA and ask to volunteer at their kindergarten that houses lil Arabs and Jews hand in hand. Lovely sight to see it would be. Lil tiny dark haired tots that are ultimately all the same. It’s very easy to get lost in this city. Tel Aviv was much easier to navigate. Many many side streets that pop out of nowhere and lead me in the opposite direction. I lost focus of my destination and took a right from Jaffa st. in the old city. I noticed a lot of Palestinian markets over yonder, wanting to scope out the scene I continued on.  Ending up in the Christian quarter on St. James. There’s a sign that says “Greek Orthodox Museum.” I couldn’t find the entrance so asked the man standing outside “do you speak english?” “yes” he answers. “Where is the entrance to the museum” he replies “the museum closed 7 years ago.” I proceeded to explain to him why I was in Jerusalem, about my great grandpa. He says “hold on let me find the Patriache to give you information.” I was pretty amazed at his reaction. He looked thrilled that I came all this way to figure out my lineage. He says “come come upstairs.” I started to get nervous, unprepared for this. I didn’t have the proper papers with family facts.  I was walking through this stone cave religious castle. Nuns dressed in black blankly staring like I was a green monster. I can’t describe in words how magnificent this place was. I started shaking, like I was about to meet a fucking king. The door man says “please kiss the patriarchs hand when you meet him.” Never been a fan of religion, yet felt a godly presence. Light, nervous, dreamlike. The doorman comes back and asks “do you like coffee and cognac.” “Why yes I do” of course. Finally he leads me into this holy room of the Patriarch who stands with his 2 bishops sitting in front ready to wait on his every whim. The room consists of five red velvet chairs. Gold framed pictures of Jesus and a gigantic desk where the   Patriarch does business. Me, not knowing a lick of Greek or any of the sacred customs felt like a complete fool. Like I said, today was not the day. I didn’t expect any of this to happen and wanted to run out like a dog with my tail between my legs. I was dressed like a homeless person without a shower. Of course I forget to kiss his damn hand. The kind doorman that looked Palestinian comes in with an antique tray of water and cognac. I drink it reluctantly. Then the bishop serves me chocolates. I eat them, happily nervous. The doorman comes back with a tiny cup of coffee on a tiny saucer with gold trim. I drink it, wondering if I’m holding the plate awkwardly.  The Patriache was aggressive at first, wanting quick answers. He speaks broken english and didn’t want me to waste his time. I explain: “My great grandfather was a Greek Orthodox priest here in Jerusalem and his name is Boustrous Koury.” I continue on with why my story. He looked impressed and began to lighten up. A softer dialogue helped me calm down a bit, my breathing wasn’t as shallow. I told him what I knew about my family and that I didn’t bring the papers with all the information. He phones a priest in Ramallah and tells me I must go there to find birth records of my grandfather. To make a much longer story short he has his bishop write down his number for me to call later with the info. Realizing I forgot to kiss his hand upon entry I stood up from that soft velvet chair and kissed his right hand. Felt odd but in a good way. He hands me three books, all in Greek. He signs the biggest one to Jacky Koury, all my blessings. He also gives me a wrapped gift, and asks “what do your finances look like.” I said “I worked 3 jobs to get here.” He then pulls out a wad of hundreds from his long black robe and hands me $200 American dollars. I look at the money, start to cry. I said “I cant take this” while tears roll down my cheeks. He says “I want to help you find your family.” This is all too surreal for me to handle. I get lost on my way out. More unpleasant stares from Bishops and nuns, while holding all of these gifts. I’m fucking buzzing, more lost than ever but could care less. Lost in a fairytale.  Called him an hour ago and he gives me father Galactions number in Ramallah which is located in the West Bank or some call it Palestine. I have 4 more days at this hostel then off for more investigation. Tomorrow I climb Masada http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masada at 4am then take a quick mud skin covered soak in the dead sea. I’m told not to get the water anywhere near my eyes due to the dangerously high salt levels. Wish me luck on my mission. Now I must learn Greek. 
This is a picture of the Patriarch I met today and will give you a glimpse into the elaborate traditional nature of what I experienced. 

Stepping back in time, Today was a big day that made this trip 100% more special and worth every penny plus some. I woke up around 8am, had breakfast with my hostel mates that led into a heated discussion about the conflict with some Aussies. It felt good to finally discuss the issue. That conversation put a fire under my butt so I went back to my room and found numerous organizations to contact for volunteer work. I stumbled upon this website: http://www.justvision.org/organizations which was extremely helpful. I contacted about 10 organizations and confirmed a volunteer position with this radio station http://allforpeace.org/eng/ and it starts on Thursday at 12. It seemed to take forever but I just had to keep up the search. I knew someone would respond eventually.  Following the excitement from that I was on another mission to find yoga in English. I found this one www.flowjerusalem.com and begin on Friday, a few teachers emailed me back but this teacher sent me the most pleasant message so I choose her, not even knowing the cost. This all took too much time, which was maddening. I wanted nothing more than to explore my new found love of this old gorgeous city filled with the brightest fruit I’ve ever laid eyes on and stone cave like passage ways that wrap around for miles it seems.  
I set out on another mission for today. To find the Jerusalem YMCA and ask to volunteer at their kindergarten that houses lil Arabs and Jews hand in hand. Lovely sight to see it would be. Lil tiny dark haired tots that are ultimately all the same. It’s very easy to get lost in this city. Tel Aviv was much easier to navigate. Many many side streets that pop out of nowhere and lead me in the opposite direction. I lost focus of my destination and took a right from Jaffa st. in the old city. I noticed a lot of Palestinian markets over yonder, wanting to scope out the scene I continued on.  
Ending up in the Christian quarter on St. James. There’s a sign that says “Greek Orthodox Museum.” I couldn’t find the entrance so asked the man standing outside “do you speak english?” “yes” he answers. “Where is the entrance to the museum” he replies “the museum closed 7 years ago.” I proceeded to explain to him why I was in Jerusalem, about my great grandpa. He says “hold on let me find the Patriache to give you information.” I was pretty amazed at his reaction. He looked thrilled that I came all this way to figure out my lineage. He says “come come upstairs.” I started to get nervous, unprepared for this. I didn’t have the proper papers with family facts.  
I was walking through this stone cave religious castle. Nuns dressed in black blankly staring like I was a green monster. I can’t describe in words how magnificent this place was. I started shaking, like I was about to meet a fucking king. The door man says “please kiss the patriarchs hand when you meet him.” Never been a fan of religion, yet felt a godly presence. Light, nervous, dreamlike. The doorman comes back and asks “do you like coffee and cognac.” “Why yes I do” of course. Finally he leads me into this holy room of the Patriarch who stands with his 2 bishops sitting in front ready to wait on his every whim. The room consists of five red velvet chairs. Gold framed pictures of Jesus and a gigantic desk where the   Patriarch does business. Me, not knowing a lick of Greek or any of the sacred customs felt like a complete fool. Like I said, today was not the day. I didn’t expect any of this to happen and wanted to run out like a dog with my tail between my legs. I was dressed like a homeless person without a shower. Of course I forget to kiss his damn hand. The kind doorman that looked Palestinian comes in with an antique tray of water and cognac. I drink it reluctantly. Then the bishop serves me chocolates. I eat them, happily nervous. The doorman comes back with a tiny cup of coffee on a tiny saucer with gold trim. I drink it, wondering if I’m holding the plate awkwardly.  
The Patriache was aggressive at first, wanting quick answers. He speaks broken english and didn’t want me to waste his time. I explain: “My great grandfather was a Greek Orthodox priest here in Jerusalem and his name is Boustrous Koury.” I continue on with why my story. He looked impressed and began to lighten up. A softer dialogue helped me calm down a bit, my breathing wasn’t as shallow. I told him what I knew about my family and that I didn’t bring the papers with all the information. He phones a priest in Ramallah and tells me I must go there to find birth records of my grandfather. To make a much longer story short he has his bishop write down his number for me to call later with the info. Realizing I forgot to kiss his hand upon entry I stood up from that soft velvet chair and kissed his right hand. Felt odd but in a good way. He hands me three books, all in Greek. He signs the biggest one to Jacky Koury, all my blessings. He also gives me a wrapped gift, and asks “what do your finances look like.” I said “I worked 3 jobs to get here.” He then pulls out a wad of hundreds from his long black robe and hands me $200 American dollars. I look at the money, start to cry. I said “I cant take this” while tears roll down my cheeks. He says “I want to help you find your family.” This is all too surreal for me to handle. I get lost on my way out. More unpleasant stares from Bishops and nuns, while holding all of these gifts. I’m fucking buzzing, more lost than ever but could care less. Lost in a fairytale.  
Called him an hour ago and he gives me father Galactions number in Ramallah which is located in the West Bank or some call it Palestine. I have 4 more days at this hostel then off for more investigation. Tomorrow I climb Masada http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masada at 4am then take a quick mud skin covered soak in the dead sea. I’m told not to get the water anywhere near my eyes due to the dangerously high salt levels. Wish me luck on my mission. Now I must learn Greek. 

This is a picture of the Patriarch I met today and will give you a glimpse into the elaborate traditional nature of what I experienced.