Just like Bell Hooks’ book on class, Assata Shakur’s autobiography was an eye opener, to the intricacies of racism, what it means to love ourselves, as individuals and as a collective. We are going to tell these black stories, disrupting the narrative and letting our children know that we were here, we felt, we loved and we died. And all of it is valid. Struggle sometimes blinds us to the moments of joy inbetween. Shakur’s pregnancy was that light in the dim circumstances thrust on her, how she fought to hold on to it, a resilience many of us are all too familiar with. We feel it in the spaces we find ourselves in, where they try to squeeze every bit of blackness out of us. Save for our skin, which holds on and serves as a reminder to us of our pact with the universe. How we are not easily conquered, how these stories will outlive us and echo affirmation to the generations that will come after us and refuse to bend. Her pain, her strength, her refusal to overlook the happy moments is my story. Of what it means to find yourself in a place so violent to your black body, constantly squeezing out metaphors as a way of raging against erasure.
“Only a fool lets somebody else tell him who his enemy is.” Continue reading “Assata Shakur – An Autobiography”
I attended my first Creative Mornings session at the market theatre last Friday. The session, on the theme of Mystery, featured Frances Goodman: a writer/storyteller/visual artist, or let me just say, an artist.
I’ve noticed that creatives are never just one thing, you get illustrators who are also musicians, photographers who are models, writers who are coffee drinkers, that sort of thing.
I was skeptical at first, but one of her pieces had one of my favorite songs of all time, Cyndi Lauper’s “Time after time” and party lights which reminded me of last night’s shenanigans: a situation involving art, wine and good company, but this is not the time for that. Needless to say, my skepticism vanished as soon as she started talking. Continue reading “The twist within the twist”
I’m probably gonna sound like those people that are always stressing how the book was better than the movie but, here goes. I postponed watching the movie “Life of Pi” because I wanted to read the book first, and what a read it was. My heart kept screaming, “I love this book!” with each turning of the page. The story is hilarious in the most endearing way. I laughed because the alternative would be to cry, that’s how full my heart was with the unfolding of the tale.
From the origins of his name to his ordeal in the vast waters of the Pacific, Pi’s story kept me engaged every step of the way. His clever humor, his anecdotes about animals, zoology, and finding God in everything are why this book is right up there as one of my favorites.
I love how vividly he paints his imagery, I was in that lifeboat with him and the tiger every step of the way, needed him to survive. I tensed up with him at the thought of being eaten by Richard Parker, the tiger, whose name is another story on its own, and my heart welled up in love for the very same beast. Did I mention how funny this man is? From joining three religions because he “just wanted to love God”, to cheering the tiger on while it was swimming for its life, only to jump out and attempt to escape the lifeboat after the gravity of his actions had dawned on him. I was equally amused and awed by this man’s storytelling. Continue reading “Watch what you read”
Image courtesy of: http://www.billboard.com/
The beauty and the pain of creating
The beauty and the pain that we create
I postponed writing this for the longest time because I didn’t see myself as someone who could do this article and review writing thing, but this here is my first step to learning how to. It had to start with Sia. I have written so many poems and stories to this album, it was only fitting that I share part of what comprises my “writing ritual”. This is the baptism: Sia – This is acting (Album) Continue reading “To the listening ear, I will sing songs of love”