The Best Kept Secret

The End is the Beginning...again

2010-10-27T15:19:00.001-07:00

Okay folks.

here i go to test out a whole new blog layout on a new site. Wouldn't it be easier if I just bought another domain? yeah. but who wants to be easy. I like this for what it is and will keep it and drop gems on it from time to time.

for now, check out http://brooklife.tumblr.com

These archives here are priceless to me. They mark my first attempt at an Avatar. But what was i going to say and how i was going to say it or how often...yeah, that was all up in the air. Trials ensued. Failure and success. Love it. hate it. Learn. Move on. I love em all as is and don't want to disturb them anymore than i have too. enjoy and roam through. I meant it. All thoughts are mine. Most pics probably are too.

well.

the travel pics are definitely mine unless otherwise stated.

see you in a new layout soon.

Brook

ps. DISCLAIMER I will definitely be back cause adaptation is the name of the game, digital or otherwise.

The Cream Card 1999 revisited

2010-07-20T16:50:00.000-07:00

Okay.
I am a creator. I start ish up "generating intellectual properties since 1997".
March 11, 1999 I was in Atlanta publishing shorts as pre-Ludacris on air personality Chris Lova Lova and Poon Daddy lit up the radio air waves. No worries. The Cream Card is 95% original from my short fiction column in Rolling Out, the hustle. Talkin' 'bout those quick stories for a quick read and I loved writing 'em. The concept described rings true and after putting Puff in it, I had to bring it back to a time when I really started asking the question 'what makes someone a success?'
Next I started peeping answers.

Two men relax off to the side under a tree as their families relate over wings, macaroni and cheese, and greens. Each has put in his time as a young single man, husband, businessman, and father. Lounging in lawn chairs, the sun shines down in slits through the leaves.
“Look at my boy over there.” the first gentleman nods, “He just started college at Morehouse. From the catches of conversations we have had and what I overhear him say to his friends, he seems to be quite the ladies man.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think he might have too much of his old man in him.”
“Nah, I think you were the one that got 'macked on by the misses' as they put it.”
Chuckling “Yeah well, if I had to lose then I could not have picked a better opponent."
After a moment the first gentleman continued, "But still he might get the card.”
“You really think he could qualify for a cream card?”
“What is a cream card?” Derek asks strolling up before the first gentleman could reply with a friend in tow. “Is that a credit card you are going to pay off for me?”
Looking around his father says low, “Listen, a cream card is not something tangible. A lot of people have it. I do and Bill does. It is like a credit card but it never expires. After a while, you either choose to use it or not. I only use mine for business and when I want to romance your mother.”
“So how do you get one?”
“You have to be born with it,” the father gentleman replies, “Those who hold it usually have the finer things in life. They have nice cars and clothes and look good. Yet these things are not required to have the card but are usually by products of it. The card allows you to function in many different situations. Those that have it are usually creative and definitely innovative. They also have the gift of gab and can talk their way in and out of things.”
“Dad," a little perplexed,"how do you think I might have it?”
“Well, answer these three questions and you will know for yourself. Question one; do you find yourself participating in things that can promote you socially? Question two; do you happen to surround yourself with other influential individuals? Question three; do you constantly find yourself in situations that allow you to think outside the box? If you answer yes to all of these then you have the card. It allows you to talk your way through many situations like interviews. You might even be able to gain political office or be an entrepreneur. The card is only held by charismatic individuals that can influence others. I am and I think you might be too. Go on and eat now, we will talk more about it later. Your mother is coming over.”
“Does mom have the cream card too?”
“Hell yeah, how do you think she keeps me interested in her all these years?”

a Sean Combs filtered thought

2010-07-09T18:40:00.000-07:00

photo by brook stephenson

Every since i remember hearing hip hop it was first about the jam and after a while the remix. Now it's kinda about the guest artist, hook and the beat. All i know is if you can keep the people's attention, you can keep it all. Sean Combs built his empire off that pyre of fire - i mean heat. He could have given up after that concert debacle.
He didn't.

He kept pace by upping the ante.

And upping the ante means taking leaps.

photo by brook stephenson
Did Combs really plan it all from the beginning?
probably not.
How much of it was playing with the changes?
I'd guess a 60/40 split in favor of "i got a few idea that might work..." then trying em. all.

photo by brook stephenson
Did Puff expect to be Diddy or P.?
Maybe.
Did he expect to act in classic plays like A Raisin in the Sun?

press photo from Broadway production
in films?
see 60/40
Ciroc? Sean John? And a cologne?
again 60/40

No way he made that list of successes from the start though.
A two step here, a bop there, and bong, new product to take you (him) higher and higher and higher and... Point made, thought found: plans work:underscore plural.
Experience realized: If you make one plan, make three, and allow for the possibilities they bring to open the door for more. But how does all that happen?
Seize the opportunities when they arise because there's always more than one.

Imagine - key word - the "never" in your wildest dreams would you do X as part of your life - other individuals yeah but you?
Yeah you.
I have.
100% sure Combs did too.
hope you will at some point then again, again, again, again, and ...
Didn't Big say, "It was all a dream"? so if you can imagine, you can do.
Just a Sean Combs filter to see a thought through.
Dealer's choice on that 60/40 split.

The expressive manifesto @ the Puma Social Club

2010-06-23T15:04:00.000-07:00

The Puma Social Club cranked open a pop up social space inside the South Street Seaport. Enter off the cobblestone open air breezeway.Pass a bar and a blank black chalkboard to the main room's expanse above you.
Look up.
It's Rich Medina on the turntables.

Listen up.
That's Fela!.
From here I veered off into moment of tagging because I had been here before and there were at least twelve walls worth of chalkboards on two levels that I decided to drop my moniker. Some were small. One was big (five by five footer).
I mean as the night went on more people grabbed chalk and tagged.

Cote D'Ivore
viva Mexica
Uruguay
Sur America
i mean it was world cup love with world cup tagging (writing graffiti on walls not on or over other graffiti writer's pieces) and world wide representin'.

Open.

I was all over with graffiti and once I went big,

well, I was feeling stage two graffiti coming - quotes. I could see stage three down the way - muruals. I'm still a stage one tagger - initials.
But once you go big you start to think big.
Large.

the whole spot had me open and i was ready to express it.
Me manifesto goes like this:
I believe
you
have some expressive activity that gets you
"open" or"on" or "charged" some may even say "amped"
you
do not have to be Picasso or Taki183
but you
have to choose whatever expression(s) should represent you uniquely.
Even then if
you
increase your frequency and practice - study (gasp) - you are going to get better
so that every time you
do whatever expressive thing you are doing, it is always better than the last.
It may be that you are getting better at being uniquely you
at it.

but hey, this is how i feel about expression and the human need for it. I don't own it but I do like to sprinkle it around like the wind does pollen in springtime. Some will sneeze, affected. Others not so much.

Here's the thing that bothers me that may bother you if you even thought about it:

Children draw, paint, and do other things to express themselves.
Should that stop just because your are an adult?

It should not.

A lot of other people besides myself chalked up boards at the Puma Social Club.
I think it was a great idea and was really, really glad they had it.
I believe everyone who did had a better time there because of it too.
It happened to me a couple weeks ago and i am STILL thinking about it!

to the artist known as dad: wish you were here

2010-06-20T10:19:00.000-07:00

The school year is over.
I celebrated with the rest of the teaching artists and staff at the Executive Director's house. We ate and socialized to cap off a successful year. Later, I was talking to the Director about my experience. And to talk about that, I had to talk about how I was an artist. And in talking about being an artist and an educator, I had to talk about my dad being an artist whom also taught high school art.

I wish he was here

I said, "My dad created maybe two pieces in 20 years teaching. After he retired he created like 30 pieces in two."

I learned that lesson.

Persistence and creativity balancing the scale with life on one end and art on another. He was always an artist. He was a lot of things. If we discussed it now I could ask how he made what decision and what he learned from the results. Some challenges and decisions he watched me make, others not. Wish I had his experience to draw from. To ask about.

Struggle.

But hey, I share, i listen, I learn, i impart.

Was he happy with his choices between art and life? I think so.
Was he happy with his life? For sure.
Was he happy with his art? Adamantly.
Would he have done some things differently? Hell yeah. All of us would.
Would he be proud of what I am doing? Said he was back when I ran the weekly paper. It would just be more of the same now.
Glad he was for as long as he was.
What did some of his choices cost him? I simply wonder.
All are answers those that have passed on do not share with the living after the crossing.

So if you get nothing else, here's a grain of salt: for whatever you do, you have a cost to pay and if you are willing to pay it, you can succeed. You may not want too pay it though. It may haunt you. It may not. You might stay on the fence about things but then again, ya might not. It may take as long as a lifetime. It might only cost you a year, a month, a week, or a day.
Part of our responsibility, that cost, as human beings is imparting gained knowledge and experience for those after. I may not have all of the things my father tried to teach me but I got a lot more than even I suspected. As an artist, I simply did not get enough. Then again, as an artist, he only saw what led up to not including the present. It would not have been a conversation for then.
If we could have had one now it would have been epic.

ARTWORK BY DAD
medium colored pencil

an Absolut Brooklyn thought...

2010-06-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have a flashback moment.

It happens as I roll up to a venue.
you know that moment when the adrenaline starts flowing and your steps quicken.
It happens when you get that first vibration of sound or see the sidewalk pregnant with people.
outside an entrance.
with a velvet rope.
a doorman.
a sexy girl with a clipboard.

my flashback is participatory.

I used to run a paper.
I used to cover events.
I used to look for the celebrity content.
I used to check for the best way to illustrate it via a 2-dimensional plane.
in color.
in black and white.
ah but guess what?
I don't cover events like that anymore.
rather
I don't cover the same events i used too anymore.

Now,
it's kinda different...

rather i'm different

because i see the globe

not just the event.

and i can see how the world spins around us!

FENCES on BROADWAY

2010-05-19T13:09:00.000-07:00

"some people put fences up to keep people in." - some character in the play

And when August Wilson wrote "Fences" he included everyone at the time. If you liked Roots, anything by James Baldwin, Mo Better Blues, anything dealing with Black America, anything dealing with America, any well written captivating drama, anything about people, anything about struggle, anything about transition, and above all else stuff that leaves you STUNNED GO SEE THIS PLAY!!!!!!

even if you never been to a Broadway show you better not miss this one.

you can play yourself if you want too.

here's my review.

the official website and ticket information for the play is here.

Q U O T A B L E
"Vision / It reaches beyond the thing that is, into the conception of what can be. Imagination gives you the picture. Vision gives you the impulse to make the picture your own."
-Robert Collier

since i been gone...

2010-04-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

i...
parlayed with my man Courttia, a dope author, editor, and playwright; from the UK on black youth and main culture US and black youth and main culture UK as the main cultures differences rose, our individual commonalites showed up too. Go head Courttia man! Good building!

since I been gone I...
Did a throw up Uptown at Globetrippin' Cafe as three brothers read pieces from three stories that are as unique and engaging as the brothers experiences as Haitians, Sierra Leonians, and African-Americans can be...more coming soon. Shout to Calypso and Sidik for being on it and sharing dope prose.

Since i been gone I...
opened up Brook's Bistro for my man Miles Marshall Lewis to welcome him back to the NYC from Paris for a visit. Yeah man. I likes how you live man, keep that International Contemporary Black Family movement popping! shout to Lil Kalel.

Since I been gone I...
Saw George Clinton and Parliament/Funkadelic as they took me to the Mothership in a flawless show that let me know what it looks like when you assemble a collage of musical masters on one stage. wow. shout to Kendra. Good looking out!!!!!!!
tour bus after the show style y'all.

NO PHOTOS HAD TOO MUCH FUN DANCING TO THE MUSIC

Since I been gone I...
haven't really gone anywhere. I just been hectic busy trying to live, work, eat, play, and grow.

Since I been gone I...
been thinking i been gone to long but I still stay in somewhat touch with peeps and definite touch with the fam, hit birthdays, drinks out, and float through brooklyn on my bike-shout to the intercontinentalist.

Since I been gone I...
Been thinking staying gone to long is too much and i got to let you know what's been on my mellon cause life is full throttle rolling downhill with no brakes and no traffic in your way.
MOVE!
two photos by evadama7

spring is here. what u gone do besides sneeze?

Toni Morrison speaking on her process

2010-04-02T05:48:00.000-07:00

Seriously, I want to post her entire speech but for now I only can reiterate what she says as truth.

whatever type of writer or reader you are, this should be the measuring stick of success.

enjoy.

Q U O T A B L E
"Hide not your talents. They were made to be used. What's a sundial in the shade?"
-Benjamin Franklin

10th Black Writer's Conference: the panels

2010-03-29T15:19:00.000-07:00

Impact was serious as journalist Toure dropped pulp around the genre globally and locally, author Felicia Pride cosigned props for the hip-hop influenced lit, Professor James Peterson spit the said props then waxed about Uk hip hop. Ultimately independent press publisher Steven Fullwood dropped knowledge in the digital era, "where are the liner notes".

But the internet dropped a more than I bargained for. true questions like how long should blog actually be and some of the legal parameters of illegal spamming were noted but really it was the critical that rang the loudest like many peoples blogs are simply journals. um, yeah...

But the speculative fiction panel was the one: heat, information for new writers and black manga queries as well as the African Vampire history. wow. so exciting. such rich stories... can we imagine that.

And this wasn't even it...

click here for the slide show

Yours Truly

Video editing on my mind...

2010-03-09T13:24:00.001-08:00

So i been experimenting with video. I like it. it's...addictive. So come on and enjoy some of the culturalist life i live.

click here for my black history month video via the Docklands London Sugar & Slavery exhibit.

and here for the Dame Dash Gallery opening in Tribeca New York City.

ah life... so good, so sweet.

Brook

nina simone- the incomparable

2010-02-23T05:26:00.000-08:00

when i think of nina simone the pain, anguish, and success is ever present.

enjoy this link to some notable clips of her.

Detroit Institute of Arts

2010-02-22T15:00:00.000-08:00

when i think of museums it is because of this one. specifically the Diego Rivera mural.
My pops took me there and even pointed out the artist inside the work. ill. Strangely enough, i am still small in comparison. enjoy.

click here for the video.

brook

life is good if you let it be but no one said anything about it being easy.

My two cents: the full letter to editor in Black Enterprise Feb 2010

2010-02-11T14:09:00.001-08:00

This letter was written in response to Black Enterprise's feature story Can Detroit be Saved? in the November 2009 issue. Its a great article with some key points hit. Being a born and bred Detroiter plus a global traveler I had some opinions on the matter that I had been itching to spit. This feature story was right on time. The February 2010 issues Letter to the Editor has an excerpt from the original so not to keep it a secret, It figured i'd let y'all know what i really think.

The wild part that most people don't know is that individuals respond! I have received positive feedback emails from people creating programs and supporting economic development in Detroit! More on this later.

It looks like a good year y'all!

Now on to the letter itself.

Enjoy!

_________

!@!$$%,

So glad BE did this one. It was inevitable. so I have been thinking about this one from a native Detroiter's perspective. It's hard going home to see the squalor of a town bleeding it's population. The economy is weak at best but i see the greatness of it and the potential.

here's what I was thinking.would love to hear your thoughts.

First invest and court the small to medium businesses.
They count in every field from apple picking/tours to Tourism.

Second is investing in a green economy. This plays into the vision for the 21st century American urban environment.
All the factories need to be converted and all the workers need green education to work there producing green products for green companies-see the Kings from your article.

Third is construction. You've seen the numbers of homes owned by the city. they can't afford to bulldoze them all but what if a mid sized company or organization came in and revamped them? Again what does the 21st century American urban environment LOOK like? With schools of architecture at University of Detroit and University of Michigan they could begin to design and then construct it. The city and state should be interested in this venture as well as the schools of architecture. You could even make it a competition then the architects and construction workers could work together to actually build the winning structures. New designs inside city limits. Again using and training the city population and employing these small to middle size companies. More money rotating around citizens and citizen employed and owned businesses.

Fourth is the school system.
find viable workable models with 21st century applications, replicate them and court in state 4 year scholarships with in state work stipulations attached. There should be numerous programs for youth interested in green technology, engineering, computer science, and the arts. Invest in the youth. No city survives without youth.

Fifth your article looked toward Pittsburg but in addition to that one Berlin may be another city to study. I just visited there and the landscape is reminiscent of Detroit with half the city underdeveloped (East Berlin) but in progress. Highly industrial, Berlin seems to be making (made?) the adaptive transition into other economic markets successfully. It's worth checking out.

Other than that yes the health care as the BE articled described and of course film. Detroit's cheap.

Next is tourism. It has historic areas and functions like the Motown Museum, The Henry Ford Museum and the open border to Canada. Gambling counts with the towering MGM Casino as well.
You were there. You saw it.

Then there is the underdeveloped waterfront.

Ah yes. Second to lastly it needs retail social businesses on a tourist level-restaurants, lounges, bars, and other socially interactive businesses.

Finally the City of Detroit needs to court its citizens who have left to come back and mentor if not lecture, teach, or train city youth interested in their various fields of employment. People like myself.

Just my thoughts.

Would be good to hear yours.

Brook

Hello Goodbye Berlin 2009

2010-02-10T04:27:00.000-08:00

amazingly enough i have so much more video to edit for you.

enjoy this video on Berlin.

comments are welcome.

brook

Berlin II-the people, the culture

2010-02-07T06:45:00.000-08:00

I was new to the scene, my man L was almost two years in schooling me to the game of culture-everyone’s playing it. In a nutshell, for Berliners, the golden rule is order.

The order game is quite elementary: don’t cross the street when the sign says don’t walk.

That’s it. Wanting to cross the street when the sign said don’t walk I called “feeling real American”. It was the one rule I really had a hard time keeping but the alternative was being noticed by every pedestrian around you. People here follow the rules. If the sign says “don’t walk” you don’t walk! Ladies first, greetings, etc… follow the rules!

This led to a second observation. If I did walk and there were children around I would have been scolded by older Berliners for not following the rules. Why? Because they want to set a good example for the children! And I totally agree with that.
Seriously.
Don’t you?
Imagine an America where people stopped others from not following the cultural norms so that the children will know how they are supposed to act! America isn’t that sort of country. You can’t even discipline someone else’s child there. Americans do not feel responsible for random other Americans like that but Berliners do. My mom said it used to be like that. I saw that deteriorate as I grew up-sue first, get along later took root in its place.
Not in Berlin though!
It is something to observe, more so a cultural tick to think about.
Thus every intersection with lights I would look both ways, see no traffic, check each corner for, well, elderly and children then fidget.
“L. I’m having a real American moment right now.”
Cause American’s are so immediate with their gratification that I felt like I should be moving forward! Or maybe it’s just a New York thing? Whatever it was I didn’t want to mess up in minor ways in a foreign country let alone major ones.

Brook’s Culture Check #2 Blend in, follow the rules, don’t stand out more than you already are; explore, study, and assess for comparison and contrast in reflection later. Where are you? Who are they? How are you the same? How are you different?

Haiti thoughts and Ethiopian fiction

2010-01-25T20:14:00.000-08:00

With Haiti, the land of the first African enslaved successful uprising that led to the independence of a Western culture appropriated colony, the victim of Nature’s destructive power (see havoc), it’s hard to see where to step. I have a few Haitian friends following up to see how their families were doing. Fortunately they reported no losses or mortal injuries.
My sigh of relief.
While witnessing the news’s coverage of the aftermath I continued on with my routine. Yes. I felt removed but still, we are talking about human beings. It bothers me that this happens to human beings. About a country literally standing on shaky legs now this.

While reacting to that stress of life they are dealing with I was finished up a great first novel from an Ethiopian woman about a family dealing with life in Adis Ababa in 1974 after a military coup of the absolute monarch Hallie Selassie. Hosted the reading at McNally Jackson Books in Soho. Packed the crowd was majority Ethiopian of various ages from grey haired to black. Many elders spoke of how important it was to begin talking about these times. A chilling historical fiction the honestly rendered reality that existed for the three dimensional characters was strong as were their dealings with it. Some retreated into denial. Others were perpetually angry. A few felt nothing but extreme penance. Still man became tools. Pity. Stress. Death. Supplication. A much needed story of man’s ability to suppress and be suppressed by his kin.
In both instances fiction and non-fiction we are talking about human suffering man made or natural. How should you react?
I have been trying to figure out what it is that I look for in the coverage, in the tweets, in the facebook status updates. I am looking to see how –when things are at their worst- people react. Because when things are at their worst is when you see people at their best.
I attended a couple fundraisers. I donated money. Time? Perhaps I can contribute some of that as well. I mean. Katrina. It’s not about governments. It’s about the people –you, me-people helping each other.
Simple.
Some might even call it naïve but the truth remains.
People should be inclined to help in some small way and even do some small thing if not large.

Again how should react? The way that feels natural-hopefully including sympathy or empathy pushing you to act, participate, support in your own way.
Hopefully.

Beneath the Lion's Gaze by Maaza Mengiste is raw but the truth of the times demand such images. Don't turn away, read it. Again, people acting. Enjoy it. I did.

My two cents or whatever it is worth.

Berlin: ex pat artist movements

2010-01-17T07:14:00.000-08:00

C U L T U R E: O B S E R V A T I O N - my man L
I have counsels I keep to myself but sometimes they leak out. Ever the urban infiltrator I perch pensive patiently pondering participants penache around me.

First off my man L had really taken to the Berlin.

I was proud off that. It was impressive. Walking the streets speaking German at the grocer, the Turkish restaurant, and running into friends was hot. I mean Germany is no small place to move too out the blue. It has a distinct flavor and demeanor plus loads of history negative and positive on top of it’s own language. Dude's is a visual artist and most recently took down his facebook page. I feel that as well. Too much interaction there and he has to focus. But really he just up and left New York after growing up in Georgia for Berlin.

Good move. Excellent timing. I can still remember a set in his garden apartment in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn for his birthday a few years back. He had a small set with food, a canvas to tag your birthday shout outs in various mediums, and deejay tables.
It was hot.His new spot is the Berlin version with canvases in various states of progress, records, speakers, weight bench, furniture, and laptop.

Now this cat is spinning and promoting parties, speaking German, and feeding his painting outlet. Creatively the city has him open-me too. He’s received his one year visa which is always a big deal. Now he can begin to really dig in to Berlin because his intent is not just living but thriving there financially. Which is what one does wherever one chooses to live if one has that choice.

And his first hurdle was/is language.

“I’m still trying to learn it man. My friends are still helping me with it too.” Fortunately his friends are good people from all over Europe. They too learned German in addition to their first language as all ex-pats have too. The family was formed and as family does it takes care of it’s own.

I hadn’t studied German and having already gone to countries-Brazil, Peru, Italy-where the main language isn’t English I knew better but I did it anyway. To do it again, go back to Germany, I’d take a class beforehand. I feel just that bad about it.

“Some English speakers come here, work, and never learn the language.” L commented.

“Hmmn,” That's an extremely rude stance, deadly even.

I had a blast hanging out and vibing to Croatians, Austrians, Southern Germans, African-Americans, Brits, and Norwegians. Everyone liked hip-hop. I mean we were chilling in this cat Billy's (he's Croatian) condo tailgating before the De La Soul show. He made some screaming Gulash and his stereo was straight 90's hip-hop all day from Mobb Deep to Bug Pun. Lovin it! He totally gutted the place by hand so we were able to build on the architecture layout cause I had built a cabin back in the day when i was an architecture major in undergrad. Cool dude.
"Soon you are going to lose your passport and stay here." he joked.
nah but....nah.
Everyone at this set spoke English on a sliding scale of proficiency. We all understood each other so I could see getting away with not learning German in Germany. But if I were living there, I’d have to learn it out of respect not to mention safety. If you the only one not understanding what people are saying and everyone knows it somebody’s going see you as a good target.

There was actually a cat that all these guys had met before. For all intents we could have been the same dude.
African-American
Came to visit L
Liked the place
But he never went back to the states. Been there a year and still doesn’t know any German. That’s a bad look! It’s not like German is difficult either. English employs German words. Think kindergarten and it gets a little clearer. Dude’s taking a dangerous gamble when he doesn’t have too. Whenever he is not around his friends-apprehension at not being able to communicate. I would feel it so I know he has too regardless of degree.
Regardless.
I was just visiting but still trying to get a few German words in!
Bitte is please
Sprechen sie is do you speak
Danke is thank you
Plus others…

Bottom line is this: when traveling communication is everything. If you can, you are good. If you can’t you are f____, unless you have someone who does with you. Then you can have a good time, get around, and, if you are lucky, not do everything touristy, you might just be able to go native.

Brook’s Culture Check #1: If you are going to live elsewhere for an extended period of time, learn the language. If it’s a short time get a phrase book and take a class!

sup world. rewind the year, the decade

2010-01-10T13:46:00.000-08:00

F A M I L Y

The decade was bitter.
Dad. I lost my grandmother's generation of elders save one. That one's mind is sharp. i had the conversation with him i meant too, "I want to read your memoirs. write them." what i know of his life as an African-American is notable:he applied to Harvard. Omitted checking the ethnicity box. was accepted. Did he attend, Black man first half of the 20th century, no. juat a story i know. Others like fifty years of family reunions i need jotted down in his own handwriting if i had it my way. i'll settle for a word document. how about a video or vocal recording?

The decade was sweet.
a whole new generation of babies sprouted to youngins, kids, and a few teenagers.

W O R K
i think about my work and the experience therein: from being a green teacher fresh out of college to a starting a paper ground up in atlanta and establish it and myself in New York City. Next came the world traveler. Now the accomplished educator and writer.
the novel is coming, it's almost here.

There is so much in store this decade. good and bad and both are positive:they cause growth.

Now a new decade.
So much to do.
so many plans to complete. execute.
Sleep?
yes.
Rest for the weary.
because in the morning...

JFK to Heathrow: Portobello Market, Westminster, Brixton, & Shoreditch

2009-11-23T14:42:00.000-08:00

DAY

Yep. It began about a week before 9-11-09 Friday when I met Ogadee and Angela and their older sister Margarita and cousin Charlotte in Brooklyn at Brooklyn Moon (shout to Mike the owner) in Fort Greene. They were on their first New York City trip. We hung out a few times over the weekend and then they were back to England the following Tuesday. I was out to London Wednesday. It’s the Saturday of the same week and they were about to take me around in London. I can’t front I had to say it to 'em, “Yo, remember earlier this week when we were in Brooklyn…”

Smiles everyone smiles.

They scooped me up at my friend’s place in Bow and we cruised on out in the mini-cooper with the top down.

CLICK BELOW TO WATCH THIS PLAY OUT

The weather was sunny and warm for London. Angela told me London has more convertibles than other places. I dunno bout that but I was sure glad SHE had one. Ogadee was at the wheel and we were rolling, talking, laughing, and taking pics. The first place they took me was Portobello Road Market for the street fair. Lots of people, vendors, and sights and I was just getting my eyeful. I had to get over sitting on the LEFT passenger front seat and the driving on the left instead of the right side of the road but after a moment it was all good. Walking the fair I ended up scooping a pocket watch. It may sound odd but I had been wanting one for years so here I was in London on some bucket list ish.

After strolling the five or six blocks of Portobello

we bounced and cruised down Oxford Street then thru Westminster passing all sorts of sights

like Trafalgar Square and even the London Eye as we headed for Brixton. I noted that London reminds me of New York or really vice versa but when we got to Brixton

it felt like Flatbush ave. When we passed the tube stop there I had to double take because it looked like Fulton Mall Brooklyn for a second. Women of color of all ages, shapes and sizes with bags, children moving around each other and the men of color hollering at them on both sides of the busy sidewalks. Yeah the dollar stores look like dollar stores here too. But we cruised pass that and ended up at Nando’s, a Portuguese dinner spot/chain. It was cool and we kept up the convo of America versus United Kingdom on the black hand side.

NIGHT
After eating we cruised back over the London bridge, took a few shots and peeped the Thames River Festival on the opposite side.

It was night time and I was a bit beat. Yeah I could have gone out but why push it. Tomorrow’s another day and they said there was festival we should hit.
Bet.
They dropped me back off at my friend’s apartment and said they would be back in the morning.
Yep. The morning can’t come quick enough but I’m about to lay it down! This time difference is a trip.

oh wait...almost forgot. I linked up with Peggy in Shoreditch for a party at this spot Red Dragon and it was off the chain-the whole area was. Of course walking around with open alcohol was throwing me way off but hey, it's London and it's legal so when in Rome...:)
But why did I have to pass like TEN pumping spots with ques slinking out of every door before i got to the one Peg fwded me about? All sorts of crowds with all sorts of ages with all sorts of drunkeness and sobriety. I was loving it. Hadn't been this amped since senior week parties in Buckhead from college for real!
I got in,
hit the bar,
ordered a Guinness,
passed some pounds to the barkeep,
sipped it,
turned around,
and took in the scene.
It's always the same; dancing, talking, smiling, flirting, laughing, hugging, and of course, drinking! Deejay in the corner and a downstairs to boot. All cigarette (fags they call 'em) smoking outside. It's a small spot, intimate, but perfect for a retail boutique birthday party complete with Deejays serving up massive jams! Peg came by shortly thereafter and we chopped it up about London, New York, moving, and making a name for yourself where ever you are.

Yo Peg. Can't wait to hear about that new artist you were telling me about. Sounds like she's fire!
Bouncing i realized another thing i liked about London. The Tube stops at midnight but the bus system is so correct it makes up for it. No need for the cab bruv, i got an oyster card!

and i'm out.

Q U O T A B L E
"If your dream is a big dream, and if you want your life to work on the high level that you say you do, there's no way around doing the work it takes to get you there."
-Joyce Chapman

JFK to Heathrow: Bright lights, Big city 9-11 Friday

2009-10-26T14:39:00.000-07:00

I opened my eyes as daylight shone in and looked around to smile because I was in London NOT New York City.
Not Crown Heights but Bow
Not the burrough of Brooklyn but East London.
Not the flat in a brownstone but an apartment in a building.

i can't front. It's great to wake up and in between the moment you are still sleep and floating to consciousness realize you aren't home and i mean country and continent. James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, Josephine Baker, Stew, Chester Himes, Dizzy and all the rest of the black artists that did it before me-thank you.
You were so right.

SIGH...
Yep time to get up and get it started because my plan of the day was to move through the city via the tube (see SUBWAY). Jet lag withstanding i kept looking at my watch like "yep, different zone AND hemisphere". I had three stops: Daunt Books, an Idea Store and maybe the White Cube Gallery if i had time.

I copped some groceries the evening before from the supermarket. I tried to keep it usual because one thing I hate about travel is the eating out. Don't get me wrong I love the meals/culture i can't get in the U.S. but do I have to eat out every meal? hell no. So renting apartments or crashing at one you always have the convenience of home.

I was taking full advantage of that.

Soon after a shower and dressing i was grazing on a simple breakfast a la brook and checking my email. The wi-fi was working damn well and I got some writing in on the novel too. I was playing a little Drake "So Far Gone" in the background and peeping the tube maps and addresses for the sites i wanted.Next thing i know i snatched my backpack, jacket, Tiger's baseball cap, i-pod and Bose head set( shout to T). Time to bounce.

Daunt Books rests in the very well to do area of West End or Marylebone if you really want to be specific. I took the Central Line north, transferred to the Jubilee line at Liverpool then on to the Bakerloo line at Baker Street just to hop off at the Marylebone stop. It's all about the color and the district here y'all + the Oyster card for the easy tube access.
Yessir! click on the video to really feel this trip.

for real though if you used to NYC London is kinda easy map-wise plus it's smaller and the public transit is on point!

i got street level and started meandering around til i found the street i was looking for Marylebone High Street.

Walking down it the road curved around away from the main avenue. I passed a girls prep school and a gang of middle to high end boutiques. An area of retail reminiscent of Soho-or is Soho reminiscent of this-but all shops were street level and all buildings were only four stories high at the most. The shopping was ill and as I enjoyed the stroll I finally saw the spot two and half blocks down. I posted up across the street for a second then went in.
:)

inside the store had two main sections on the street level. The left side held mostly fiction, cooking and children's books. The right side was non-fiction and art. Downstairs was travel and travel was all that.

Every region/country held guides, fiction, art, and whatever else was relevant to that subject. See Monocole's October issue. They put me on. I scooped up The Brief Wondrous Life Of Oscar Wilde (Brit cover was better than the U.S.)

but should have copped the second Steig Larsson in paperback.

I posted up street side at a cafe with a lattee and apple almond tart then I broke out for the Idea house.

An Idea house is a redesigned re-imagined public library. The first Idea Store was designed by African born UK Architect David Adjaye. Sizzling concept and there was one close to where I was staying, the first one actually. A thought process I find fascinating because in the 21st century all constructs could use a touch up ESPECIALLY the library. I wanted to experience it myself.I wonder, hope, America could take a tip from it's Big Brother on that. Ah well, America probably won't-look at how the U.S. approaches public education. I tubed it out via the District line and exited at Whitechapel to find vendors closing and guess what: the spot was closed too.I looked around at the Muslim men with beards and women in hijabs and I knew the White Cube Gallery was a wrap. I hopped back on the tube to K's spot so I could hook up a lil dinner, check email and chill.
Today was dope but my adrenaline was coming down like the sunset and I was tired.

hopped the tube one stop and I was back at the apartment for the night. Jet Lag's a beast.

N I N E - E L E V E N * S I D E B A R

Remembering that this day was 9-11 was a trip.
When the towers fell i was in Manhattan on 125th street waiting on the M60 Bus to LaGuardia Airport. The Publisher of the paper i was running in NYC was on his way in town for the Levi's Engineered Jeans Tour that night featuring The Roots, Musiq Soulchild, Bilal, Jazzyfatnastees, and Jaguar Wright. That didn't happen then. What did was what I heard on the radio in the news stand.
"...It's confirmed. a plane has crashed into the Pentagon and two planes have hit the World Trade Center."
The rest you already know.
And that was eight years ago.
Now I was in London.
wow.

Q U O T A B L E
"Envisioning success brings you an inspiring image, but bringing that image to life requires action."
-Larina Kase

JFK to Heathrow: once again we begin

2009-10-19T14:32:00.000-07:00

It started with the evening flight on Virgin Atlantic. I knew i would fly at night and sleep would be a good friend. I didn't know about the in flight movie selection. oh well, i'll sleep later cause Notorious, the Hangover, and a partial Star Trek kept me up til we floated down through the clouds to Heathrow International. I had everything ready, my passport, itinerary and info of the person i was staying with. Now I just had to clear customs, turn on the berry and get it started. It's morning and I had plans. this was my first trip to London and it was two-fer overall that would hop me to Berlin, back to London then on to John F. Kennedy International in New York.

I had already connected with a friend for the spot to crash at in both cities. My man in Berlin was like, "it's so popping don't even plan anything." so I didn't but still I always have a plan. I been doing this for years now. I knew i was going to eat good (local culture), stroll good (on foot and public transportation the native way), hit a museum (every major city in any country with a tourist rep has at least one), socialize (drink and possibly club), hit a bookstore and relax with pep.

I even had an ulterior agenda that I sort of ignored but that's going to have to wait until the post trip summary.

Let's jsut keep it Jason Bourne now k?

One back pack, one bag, one baseball cap.
I got into Heathrow and took the Heathrow Connect to Picadilly Square where i transferred to the Tube to exit at Canary Wharf. My connect,K, was there and upon entering the Corporate building we greeted, caught up a lil, and she posted me in the Starbucks. One more crew member, T, coming in and when she got there, we were off to the apartment via in the old school cab (see Harry Potter) to K's pad.
It's london.
It was there T and I's hostess said that at 4pm they were leaving for Spain.

word?

K and T wouldn't be back til Sunday evening.

it's Wednesday tho. 11am. Looks like I'm going hold down an apartment in London dolo (see solo but the urban version) on my first trip. I guess some travelers would be a bit queasy but i was amped. The trial run for real-live life like i was in Brooklyn but i'm in London. hmmn. Wi-fi check. i-pod deck check.
"Where's the grocery store?"
check.
zonk out for the three hour nap til 4pm.
che...zzzzzzzzzzz

4pm I'm up and called K to make sure everything was on schedule. K was already packing up and leaving work as I called.
Bet.
I woke T up on the "you got to get ready tip". T hopped up and repacked a bag for four days in Spain as K blew in,grabbed her own bags, and they both bounced.

Meanwhile

i played outro theme music for them on the i-pod,found out where the garbage goes plus how the locks on the door went.

Now alone it was time to turn on the computer and let cats know who's in London town now. I got London connects on the ground and it's time to see friendly faces from the not to distant past. Sitting at the counter the laptop key stroked tapped a familiar rhythmn as i watched the screen and the ipod played behind me as the sunlight showered in through the back wall blinds from the street outside.
London has just begun.
Shout to Darren "Decoy" from 4 Hero. Keep reading for his two episode story: London the Meeting, Berlin the show.
enjoy the video.

Q U O T A B L E
"Take your life in your own hands, and what happens? A terrible thing: no one to blame."
-Erica Jong

4th wall movements:A Boy and his Soul

2009-10-14T18:58:00.000-07:00

The 4th wall is a term used in theatre like
backstage,
center stage,
stage left,
and stage right.

It refers to positions like
backstage is the background wall,
stage right is the right wall,
and stage left is the left wall.

Only one wall missing and that's the wall opposite the background wall, namely you, the audience.

And usually the 4th wall doesn't participate, it watches.

But its hard not to participate when your song comes on like in Colman Domingo's one man show A Boy and His Soul. Already dude has garnered buzz out of control from his stellar characterizations in Passing Strange. He killed it (ahm repeating myself now) in The Wiz as The Wiz and now he's back with another hit.

If you grew up in the 70's in Philly in a black household you probably already have an idea of what sounds fed his soul because growing up in a black household in Detroit it was the same records rocking my parents parties as those rocking his.

You know the names people:
Earth Wind and Fire
Marvin Gaye
Ohio Players
and the rest of those records your folks ain't throwing away but are downloading or converting to cd.

Again, like the 4th wall didn't start singing along in that show.

Like we weren't supposed to.

Like I didn't have a personal relationship with the soul music i grew up with like the rest of the Wall (who were a pretty diverse cultural mix by the way)

More like i didn't know any black folks growing up who didn't.

It was a family affair and playing each member of his immediate family Colson Domingo showed me members of MY family.

yeah yours too.

I mean who wasn't a kid growing up trying to make sense of what he saw and heard?

Who hadn't had moments of sheer wonder and awe when it came to a concert and what could happen in the presence of music?

I mean music it, it does something to you...

for you?

or does it enable you?

Soul music answered questions ya didn't even ask yet, not as a little kid.

It's a saturday night watching your parents party on their way out. That same saturday night as you grow older you watch your older siblings do the same. Everybody has their theme music,

even you.

But what a kid doesn't think about is what the hell is the "sweet sticky thang" the Ohio Players sang about.

that "kid" starts learning and growing and next thing ya know, he knows.

then the music you already loved starts to really get in ya bones.

then something else happens and more things happen and the experiences pile up and the memories start collaging and...

ah well, nuff said... go see the production.

everything he does is everything folks can relate too. Its that "post black civil rights black life" as one audience member put it that you don't see all the time but all post black civil rights black folks did!

do.

its ya life so send ya folks and take a friend

or a date.

A Boy and His Soul

written and performed by Colman Domingo

Vineyard Theatre

www.vineyardtheatre.org

Q U O T A B L E

"We can do anything we want to do if we stick to it long enough"
-Helen Keller

on urban farming

2009-10-12T04:23:00.000-07:00

Recently i went to the NYc Food & Wine Festival. the speicific event was the 100 Mile brunch courtesy of Farmer Bob. It was a seasonal menu mainly from a 100 mile radius of New York City. It was delicious! The oysters were NYC grown. I know a little about oysters especially in NYC. Oysters were so abundant they were the common man's meal. Now only the posh. sup with that? the Oyster farmer himself asked that question.
back to the menu tho. here were my favorites.

100-Mile Lasagna with Home-Made Pasta from Local Grains ( it was so serious)

Deep-Fried Cauliflower with Katchkie Farm Preserved Tomato Jam (didn't do the jam but the deep fried Cauli was screamin)

Katchkie Farm Eggs Benedict with Flying Pigs Bacon (mmn mm good)

and for dessert

Samascott Orchard's Preserved Peach and Honey Panna Cotta :)

Blue Marble Ice Cream and Honey Comb Sundae (who wouldn't like this?)

but as we finished our meals and Farmer Bob got up to nervously tell us about well, the farm, the thought grew in my mind and a comment to the couple near my friend and I from Philly. Urban Farming.

Bob was talking about going out two years ago and irrigating and farming about 12 acres of land which we were eating today. But with all the hunger in the urban cities of America whassup with the urban farming? the economy is in the toilet but everybody has to eat!
sup with GROWING your own food?

I know about farming because my family had a plot we farmed growing up in Detroit. We shared the harvest and it was good.
Now as I thought about that, another blogger Dana Roc posted a Q&A with a woman who is an urban farmer. Click here for that. It's worth it because ol girl pleads a good case. She's farming in Oakland by way of Seattle.

But for all that's negative and harsh what comes up in that Q & A is something I didn't know but did. MY hometown Detroit is like the epicenter of urban farming.
again, new york times has a lil something on it today. click here for that. something about economic salvation. sounds good don't it?

my thoughts?
i'm all for it. I want it. if i could urban farm RIGHT NOW IN BROOKLYN I WOULD. and someone asked how many hands were on Farmer Bob's farm. his answer was:
three.

real talk.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FOR SCRIBBLIN AT THE AUTOMAT CLOSING WEEKEND OCTOBER 9-11TH

2009-10-08T20:14:00.000-07:00

SCRIBBLIN' AT THE AUTOMAT

from idegosuperego media

is going to put you in that space and place where you wondered like Kanye "does anyone make real shi*t anymore"

They do.

Like if James Baldwin-
writer,
negro,
man,
american,
new yorker,
harlemite,
observer,
thinker,
and storyteller-
ran into his friend he worked on his high school paper with Richard Avedon-
fashion photographer,
white,
man,
socialite,
new yorker,
american,
and a capturer of moments-
after Avedon had begun his fashion photojournalism in the Harper's Bazaar's and Baldwin's epic debut Go tell it on the Mountain got it's literary due in the mainstream.

Drama & dramatization from house parties in Paris to hotel rooms after celebrity photo shoots to politics to the purpose of art to the purpose of the moment to the reality of America of their present, past and future to to old school buddies hanging out who started to ride out on dreams come true...

do yourself the favor and enjoy.

click here for my interview with Playwright Arthvr Alleyne

go to www.scribblinattheautomat.com

or

www.kumbletheatre.org

for details

Three shows left.

FRIDAY 7:30

SATURDAY 7:30

SUNDAY 3:00 PM CLOSE

Kumble Theatre Long Island University- Brooklyn

discount code ELXR9

MORE 4TH WALL COMING SOON

Q U O T A B L E
"...just my thoughts..." Jay-Z

My '09 summer reflection

2009-09-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

I had to send something out as an ode to summer 2009.

i loved it.

i closed it out via an euro trip: London + Berlin.

dope ish.

true that the trip is over now.

postcards.

They are an old art but come on i'm a writer.

expect nothing less.

i stayed low for the summer's duration writing and keeping a casual social calendar.

I did very few events with more than 50 people.

my new philosophy.

some heard about it.

It was beautiful.

try it.

Less = more.

Met a bunch of folks i didn't know this summer and that was the plan.
Most of em i keep in touch with but not all but isn't that the nature of meeting people? even now reading this email you probably met a slew of individuals but out of the many only a few you'd consider true friends right?

its like i knew something and didn't have the words to describe it.

then i did.

yep

but hell this post was supposed to be something else but it became this.

the else will come later.

mad scrutiny for why i went out this summer and a whole lot of shit didn't make the cut.

discerning.

it happens to me so i'm cycling into some new ish now. follow along and enjoy.

my summer highlights were chill sets at cribs, rooftops and bbqs. I hit a few uber events but i mostly enjoyed the weather and the company.

holla atcha boy

i did make the soul summit house set in Fort Greene Park Brooklyn close out party tho.
it started raining & no one left + the drummers kept drumming as the dejay stopped+they had been sound clashing all afternoon+the rain kept falling+the people caravaned over to the drummer side of the floor and kept it moving+the rain kept raining+the dejay came back on+the party never stopped=it was hot.

and

after eating dinner with Ant + Vince we could still hear the music pumping in the park through the darkness of sunday night.

This = the definition of a good day.

Since i do a whole lot of things with this blog already i have just added another piece to the puzzle. Seing as how every written piece is a chance to try something new with communication i figured i'd try out the "What if" factor of my own life.

I could have ended up in hollywood making movies.

That story ended with Trois the movie and began with my man Troy Evans from Ohio i went to Morehouse College with.

lemme know if you want to actually hear it.

shout to my boy Molaundo (another morehouse grad) for this one. he put me on with the video idea. so instead of just talking about summer how bout i show u in a little compilation i like to call "brooklife 09 take one"

peep the clip below and holla back atcha boy.

I put this together the night before i hopped the flight at JFK for Heathrow and I think i'm gonna drop one for each post about the trip or at least a few overall.

shout to all involved.

it was a blast and we aint even done yet...

Q U O T A B L E
"No one ever finds life worth living - one has to make it worth living"
-Unknown

Passing Strange-the movie

2009-08-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

First things first PASSING STRANGE IS THE MOVIE YOU NEED TO SEE. I say that first because the play is amazing. I reviewed that and you can peep that here. The play debuted as a Spike Lee Joint film Friday August 21, 2009 and I was honored with the opportunity to moderate a discussion at the Studio Museum of Harlem the night before. Spike couldn't make it but he did an excellent job separating and illustrating the ensemble cast and music. There are moments of multiple characters singing multiple chords that on stage may be overwhelming but with visual editing and sound mixing for filming are sharp and vibrant. People may think this is a stretch for him but no it is actually a very essential Spike Lee story. First, there are characters in transition. Second it is a musical and he does that. Don't think so? Remember School Daze? Third it's theatre. Spike doesn't do that either? See the cinematography and set design of Do the Right Thing. Still surprised Spike did this? I'm not.
At the Studio Museum a private crowd viewed the film and then co-creators Stew and Heidi plus cast members Colman Domingo, Chad Goodridge and Da’Adre Aziza took the stage for the discussion. They talked about how the play evolved, what it was like working on it and added some great behind the scenes nuggets of goodness. The main thing they said, or Stew said, was that this production was only a sketch until it was cast. Stew related this to a Count Basie production or was it Dizzy Gillepse, “He wrote the music for the specific musicians he worked with”. Stew did the same for this ensemble.
That’s why the cast had not changed over three different runs at three different theatres. That’s why their energy was so strong in the discussion. That's partly why this film is so good. Am not sure how much of the press got to explore that angle but it was beautiful to allow it at the Studio Museum.
Shout to Ayeshah for the opportunity.
Shout to Dan for staying up with the flood of press movements.

Please support this film if you fit any of these criteria: consider yourself different from everyone else, are black, are male, have had a relationship, have failed in a relationship, love to experience life elsewhere, had to get comfortable in your own skin, had to figure out what you want to do with your life, made any mistakes, love a good story, love a good play or love music. Sound like you? Then GO! Stop reading and check HERE for IFC showtimes and tickets IN New York City.
my final two cents
Stew and Heidi, who are accomplished musicians in their own rights, wrote a play and based it not on what the powers said a play should be but what the felt a play should be -at least a play they would want to see would be or what they didn't see when they saw plays. I think they are right because I WANTED TO SEE IT TOO then i reviewed it. Spike saw it and he filmed it. I guess Stew and Heidi were right. Then again, its usually the independent ones that are, then everyone else cosigns later.
Don't you agree?

All for now, holla back atcha later.

Q U O T A B L E
"...transitioning from fitting in to standing out" -Drake

memoirs of a live band junkie

2009-08-08T07:16:00.000-07:00

So a few months ago my man Chrisrob told me about a gig he had coming up at a spot at the Lafayette Bar & Grill in Mahanttan, NYC. I know Chris does his thing on the keyboards so I was like “Bet. I’m there.” I also knew he had recently jammed with Stevie Wonder on some Obama inauguration/celebration ish. We ran into each other at Tilman’s at a Be Easy set by our mutual friends that host/deejay there. We were in one of the booths by the bar and he was just stunned. He was bugging off the Stevie set. Blaxx too. I was intrigued and then I remembered back when I met him and he slid me his promo cd. It was dope. Aight, all John Legend opening act on tours aside (yep he did that), dude’s own compositions and arrangements are hot.
Then I went to the set.

Okay I recognize the band. Joe Blaxx was on drums. Maurice Brown played the Horny Man/emcee, Sean Banks on Congo drums, and Solomon Dorsey on the bass guitar. Gyeah, you seen em all before y’all. Well if you saw Laura Izibor’s video for “From My heart to yours” ya did. Click here if ya didn't. They all in the background and been on tour with her since this gig in January. Long story short, they set it off in a spot that keeps it live band but all types of musical genres.

The crowd was colorful from dark skinned blacks with locks to Caucasians with blue eyes and blond hair. Hispanics and Asians rounded it out and then there was me posted up at the bar in the corner scribbling in my notebook nodding my head sipping my drink.

Yeah. You know how I do.

The band was already jamming when I came in so I didn’t really step into their field of vision but posted up off to the side. I watched. The first thing I peeped was the music. They moved from straight up soul to funk to rock n roll with mad changes and melodies. Of course everyone had their solo moments when the bass thrumped, the congos popped, drums kicked and snared, and Chrisrob on keys showed what the 88 black and whites are for. They even did a few covers. I mean they KILLED “da butt” EU. I had a blast but what I really peeped was all over their faces. These dudes were having FUN! As a writer artist I know what it is to work your craft but seeing these guys jamming together on stage I realized something: performance artists/musicians are the ONLY artists that people see “do” their art. I usually write alone without anyone around and then people see the finished product. Painter’s paint alone. Architects design alone. But musicians work together or alone and create with a crowd. Something Stu (Passing Strange) noted about performance theatre. Paraphrasing him he said that he is used to going on stage and doing something different every time rock and roll wise but in theatre he tries to replicate that so hopefully each show is unique even with the same elements and lines being played out otherwise what’s the point.
Yeah Stu, you got it!

I feel that like I feel music but again, I’m just a live band junkie telling y’all some stuff I remembered. I don’t play squat. I’m the kid who was fired by his piano teacher, twice! Can’t read music. All I remember is Every Good Boy Does Fine but I gets down to the sound….

PHOTOS BY LOREN( LIMA, PERU), SKETCHES BY ME (NYC)

Q U O A T B L E
"Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated."
-Confucius

NYC Museum Trilogy +1 it's summer, summer time!

2009-08-04T04:06:00.000-07:00

Okay it’s summertime hits. Last check in was the beginning of July and the Wiz but this time I’m keeping it real creative and visual. Yep, I’m talking bout the museums.
First up is the Guggenheim Museum. They have an exhibit by the architect that design the one in New York City FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT FROM WITHIN OUTWARD. Yes, yes y’all the late great American designer Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s also their 50th anniversary so you’d better go before August 23rd cause after that, the show’s over.
If you have never been or have never seen the film The International then you should peep the design. The interior is a stark white and the center is open. There is a ramp that begins on the ground floor and spirals up. Each level has wings and exhibits and the spiral itself houses pieces as well. Most of the Frank Lloyd Wright work is placed on the spirals wings. You have sketches, video, and some scale models. Some of these works have been built. Most of these works have not. Granted there are many books on Wrights’ designs and his views on American architecture. I can’t front he is respected and studied because he is simply that dude. First he designs exteriors and interior furniture and fixtures so when you see a house of his like Falling Water or any of his Prairie houses you know you are seeing some true innovation. Now the styles may seem commonplace but for his times they weren’t. He used space as a construct to un-inhibit the dwellers of it. Now yes he designed homes, office buildings, a Jewish temple but in this show you really see his range from the domestic to the public. Definitely check his Gordon Strong Automobile Objective and Planetarium.

I don’t want to start naming pieces but just check it if you are into design and space and the concept of its use.I am. I used to be an Architecture major but that's a whole 'nother post with a whole 'nother design.

Second to that is Emory Douglas’ exhibition at the New Museum, Emory Douglas: Black Panther July 22- October 18, 2009. I did a Q & A with Douglas in nat creole for his book Black Panther Party: the Revolutionary Art of Emory Douglas. The book and the exhibit are not the same. The exhibit features actual issues of the Black Panther paper under glass open to various illustrations and articles while other framed illustrations hang around the room. Along the back wall is a charted chronicle of the Panther’s history as well as booklist and a display of original book cover art of Panther member’s books. Check that. Also peep the map at the far end. The entire exhibit is worth it. Seriously. If you don’t know, now you know.

Third and least of my Museum tour is the Museum of the City of New York. They have three exhibitions up currently. Manahatta/Manhattan is the first and it’s dope. It describes the island as it was found by the Dutch topographically. It is surreal to see the island as a natural habitat with all the various species of animals that lived here. The hills, the rivers, the streams and the Native Americans that used to live here were displaced. It used to be great but now it’s just sky scraped ya know. I can’t front. I’m a little disappointed in how modern man messed it up. There is also a dope exhibit on the evolution of New York City and the shipping industry (see trade and commerce). Lots of scale models of ships there. Don’t miss stoops of manhattan either. The paintings are worth it.

Last but not least is gordongartrell.com. For those that don’t know, I am a MAJOR Little Brother fan and Phonte one of the emcees has a show with DJ Brainchild where he waxes on social topics. The show is intermixed from commentary and music selected by Brainchild. The last installment is the Michael Jackson edition and Brainchild put down a wicked mix! Click here for the link to that show. Trust me it’s worth it.

All for now. Life is lived outside and when the sun gets to hot let the museum cool you off. Or go to the beach. Be a lil different. Learn something. Expand yourself. Don't be lazy or regular as if that was something to strive for. Who the hell wants to be that?
OBAMA! And I’m out.
Henry Louis Gates Jr. too.

Q U O T A B L E
"To the mediocre, mediocrity appears great"
-Indian Proverb

Easin' on down the road for the 5th of July

2009-07-13T15:40:00.000-07:00

ALL PHOTOS ARE COURTESY OF Kristen Tate

The Wiz.
What more can I say other than I saw a theatrical production of this back in the day in Detroit, Michigan. I don’t know what possessed my parents to take their son and daughter there but they did. Ironically watching the production that ended July 5, 2009 there were a large number of children in the audience experiencing the same thing. Did things just come full circle?
IT DID AND THIS TIME WE WERE LATE, LATE FOR A VERY IMPORTANT DATE-THE LAST PERFORMANCE OF THE OFF BROADWAY PERFORMANCE OF THE WIZ 2009!
From what I remembered most of the songs were still there, “Slide some oil to me” by the Tin Man, “Ease on down the road” by the cast, “I’m a mean ole lion-” by the lion, “Don’t bring me no bad news” by Evilene and all that. No Stephanie Mills as Dorothy, Michael Jackson (PLEASE LET THIS MAN REST IN PEACE, his life was hectic) as the Scarecrow, or Nipsey Russell (RIP) playing the Tin Man this time but a whole new up and coming cast. The Tin Man played by Joshua Henry was cool. Tichina Arnold as Evilene? Hell yeah! Good one! The Scarecrow played by Christian Dante White was nice but MJ just died and nobody did the Scarecrow like Mike. Go Joshua for making it your own. For real though, the Lion played by James Monroe Iglehart stole the show. He was a true presence with that rich baritone bass. But the two standouts to me were Dorothy played by singer Ashanti and the Wiz played by Colman Domingo.

Ashanti was the headliner and yes everybody was like, “can she really sing”? No one even wondered about her acting. Not that she did a poor acting job because she didn’t. The question about her singing was based on the fact that young commercially successful singers who came out in the late 1990’s and early 21st century were known to not be able to sing. Being real about it Ashanti was in that category. Hell I didn’t think she could do it but again, I did not know, never heard her try. Never went to a concert. Never bought an album but sho nuff heard her on mixtapes and remixes. So when it came time to put up or shut up, Ashanti proved she got dem pipes and now I have to look at all her Murder Inc. music like damn, y’all really kind of jacked her up. If it wasn’t for this production a lot of people would have (did actually) wrote her off. But she’s baaaaack! Go head Ashanti. MAKE THAT HAPPEN! Wonder what she will do next. I mean what other young singer was going to tackle some Stephanie Mills (sorry Diana Ross) covered songs? When Ashanti sung “A brand new day” with the ensemble cast, it was official.
Ashanti can really sing.
AND Colman Domingo killed it as the Wiz. I remember him from Passing Strange (see my review o’ dat here). He murdered it in Strange too playing not one or two but three different characters. Yep, watch him, he’s going places. Peep the Spike Lee Joint of Passing Strange too. In both productions all his roles are straight up CHARACTERS! This dude makes it look easy and I can't wait to see what he's playing in next.
All in all, this production of The Wiz was good. IT was short on actual character lines but long on song. They obviously had a limited budget for set design too but they were extremely creative with it. My favorite move was when the Wiz floated away in the hot air balloon. Um, how did they come up with that? I won’t even tell you what they did but trust me it was hot.

Even though we were late (shout to Renizzle), we all made it and then grabbed some ice cream at Columbus Circle hopping the downtown C subway train to the Planet.

Renae said it best, “We never leave Brooklyn.”
Yeah well, we do now. Summer 2009 here we come!

Q U O T A B L E
"We only live once, but once is enough if we do it right." -Gary Ryan Blair

um hip y'all, um hip. -Yours Truly Brook Stephenson

on swimming: not just a summer madness

2009-05-21T04:41:00.000-07:00

I was thinking back the other day about my childhood and teenage years. Granted I have always been an outgoing person. Thankfully my parents fed that hunger. They had me in a slew of programs athletic, academic, and creative. When it came to athletics I tried a few things. Basketball I played all the time in junior high and high school. Mainly sweated out in different cats backyards in the neighborhood. They kept their basketball rims either attached to the garage or as an independent post elsewhere in the driveway. 21 was the usual pick up game and when there was enough players, teams of two on two, three on three, four on four, or five on five. Guys would gather either on foot or 10-speed or BMX bike to wait their turn calling next forming teams to replace whoever lost. A good way to catch up with ya boys from the ‘hood for real because everybody was playing like we all got hip to it at the same time. When girls started coming by that made it even better to gain props for having ball handling skills and making shots. Girls made games real intense and afterwards it was time to talk to ‘em if you weren’t already hollering on the sidelines waiting your turn. Summertime days I’m talking bout and things were hot. It was fun.
I even played softball. They had a league about a block away from our house at the large gravel lot of Hampton Elementary School. It was cool but softball is kind of boring. Too much time standing around not doing squat. I know a lot of cats like it, baseball too, but I never got into it. I just didn’t.
Next was soccer, a game I played with the Police Athletic League (PAL). That was fun but it was really, really hard physically. I was a little out of shape by this time and it was just taking too much to keep up. When I tried track in high school I felt the same way- too much work sweating under the hot sun. Later like now, I wish I stuck with soccer. Track is still not my thing. I only run for my life-not the bus or the subway. I might jog a beach though.
In between all this in the winter I did gymnastics for about a year and studied Karate for three. Yeah they both happened at the same time but neither I stuck with. Gymnastics was cool but I just liked doing flips and dismounts off the double bars. Past that, I was good on it. Karate was dope and I even used a few moves later in junior high school but really though it was about discipline or rather mind over matter which I liked but I ain’t like enough to really rise through the ranks and collect different color belts and stripes.
Junior high school brought a lot of tennis outings. I learned tennis from my man’s dad. It was a lot of fun and I was good at it. My hand eye coordination was on point but thing was after a while standing around in the hot sun playing I would just get too tired to continue.
With all of these activities there was a wall that I hit and usually I wouldn’t go through it. Basketball was enough to go beyond the pain and fatigue but the rest weren’t. Eventually I found a sport that was and below is the reason why.
I mean for all that other sports are, none can be swimmers while all swimmers can do other sports. Skills and practice not withstanding football, basketball, track and field, soccer, and tennis are not easy but a swimmer can do them all successfully if they know the specifics. Conditioning wise, swimming works out every muscle in the human body. Can’t be a better exercise and it’s low impact so the bones and joints don’t experience the wear and tear of the shock of running, jumping, stopping, falling, or being tackled onto pavement or grass. Real talk a track team racing a swimming team will probably lose to the swim team 9 times out of 10. No bull swimming is just that sort of physical activity.
I have a friend who was varsity football and basketball in high school and played football in college. He used to always talk smack about swimming being weak and laughable. He used the term "sport" in reference to swimming loosely ya’ know?
When he actually took a swimming class in college I saw him one day. I had walked onto the swim team and was heading to practice early while there was class in session. He admitted it to me getting out the pool that day,
"You know what I was always saying about swimming? I was wrong. This shit is hard as hell! I don't know how you do it."
Uh-huh, football/basketball varsity player right?
People always say swimming is easy but it takes discipline and endurance. You have to fight through the pain and fatigue to be good. Next you have to consistently practice. You have to breath and the goal is to be faster than you were last time they clocked you. It is also highly meditative when you are in rhythm working all aspects of your physical being in harmony. You can feel the breath you take in and hold. Your heart’s working hard pulling, pushing, and replenishing oxygen rich blood through your body. Your arms and shoulders rotate simultaneously as your feet and legs kick. Keep your hips up at water level. Low hips cause drag that results in slower times. You are conscious of everything concentrating on your technique. Simultaneously pushing for speed. Ever present is Fatigue and that dude is burning every fiber of every muscle you have yet you don't stop working them because your goal is clear. Be faster. Be better. There are other people in the water too but this is really a test against yourself. Will the You of the Now beat the You of the Then? Time will tell. It always does.
And if that doesn’t illustrate the why of swimming the jist is this, cooperative team sports are cool but swimming, like track, is truly a test of your will and determination. No one can win against you but you. Yes you race others but really you are only as good as your preparation. Every day you have to swim. Sundays off is cool. Saturdays off is maybe. It is a year round activity if you are trying to be competitive. You don’t take days off, slack, drink, smoke, or do anything other than focus on being the best you can period.
Every practice you go hard. Every stroke you go hard. Every kick you go hard. Every turn you flip hard. Every start you dive hard. And with every single finish you stretch your arm out to the fullest hoping when your finger tip touches the finish line that the time displayed is better than the last time regardless if you are first, second, third, fourth, fifth, or sixth in your heat.
My last race in high school occurred at the conference finals. I was in the first heat of the 50-yard freestyle event. I was pre-placed last. I knew that because my lane, lane 6, was the one by the right hand wall of the pool. Okay, they see nothing in me well I got something for ‘em. The different teams were sitting around the deck of the pool. The swimmers were all standing behind their blocks waiting. The ref called us all to stand on our blocks and we did. The water below us was still. The lane markers weren’t even moving separating the lanes for each of us to swim in. The ref raised his gun toting hand in the air.
I took a gulp of breath because my heart was beating hard, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Take your marks.”
We all dropped to our dive positions.
Concentrate. Be sharp. Be quick.
When the gun popped off all I remember was the crack of the sound and the sizzle of my muscles. I dived in shallowly keeping my body straight as I could and kicked a hard short current behind me. Not taking a breath I started stroking hard with my arms in a circular motion. My hands were straight as knives and I was cutting into the water a head of me pulling myself through the lane with all that I had. The turn was coming and I flipped hard pushing off again straight as an arrow with the same kick and arm pull taking no breath. I put all I had into my kicks and pulled all I could. I had trained for years and could make the best of any breath I took using it to the last drop before I took another and when I kicked all the way to the wall and touched it with my finger tips I raised up. I probably took only three breaths going and three more coming. I needed to take a large gulp of air but what I really did was look at the time board. Lane six was first place with a time of 24.65 seconds. All other times listed read 25 seconds and change. I won. I beat myself and everyone else and that’s how I ended my high school swimming career on the third ranked team in my conference.
What’s better than that?
College of course.
School held it’s own trials. I walked on to the swim team swimming with cats I swam against growing up from D.C./Maryland and Philadelphia. Yep the team that the movie Pride is about. I remember that coach well. I knew em, swam against em, and now was teammates wit ‘em. Camaraderie. We swam against Howard University, Florida A & M, and other HBCU and white colleges taking road trips, laughing, winning meets and losing them. We all earned athletic scholarships and we all still are in light contact with each other. Swimming y’all. I just had to say that I love it.

Q U O A T A B L E
"What is success in this world? I would say it consists of four simple things -- to live a lot, to love a lot, to laugh a lot, and from it all, to learn a lot."
-Richard J. Needham

The Roots Part Two (four?)

2009-04-27T04:33:00.000-07:00

PHOTO COURTESY OF MOLAUNDO
First off it was a rainy windy chilly night. The show wasn’t until 11:30pm. I got there round 11:45. My man Molaundo was already posted up out front under the awning.
“I think they just started fam,” he said after the introductory pound was passed.
We ascended the stairs, got our tickets ripped, stubs returned, and crossed the double doors to the main floor. Damn, the spot is packed front, back, and side-to-side. I hit the bar for a couple brews and Mo held down a spot maybe five steps diagonally from the door. Returning to where he was I passed him a beer and then looked where everyone else was staring, ahead, to the stage.
Front and center Black Thought was ripping through a jam head bobbing and shoulders swaying with the mic in one hand. The other hand was moving and pumping to the beat. Behind him ?uestlove was drumming up something fierce. Classic Afro nodding while the drumsticks blurred on cymbal and snare. Between Thought and ?uest was a dude seated playing percussion drums. As the changes came and went there was a point when the percussion dude switched from a brother to this Asian cat that pretty much ran it down to the end of the night. To his right was one of the wickedest electric guitar players I have ever heard strumming something real chill in his composure. To his right was some dude that was not Kamal on keyboard. To ?uest’s left was dude on bass guitar I didn't really know and a dude to his left on tuba belting out some low notes. Diagonal left diagonally towards front stage was a deejay set up. In front of that were four microphone stands and two saxophone players.
They rocked hard beats for a few joints while Black Thought displayed what the art of emceeing truly is. I’m serious. Dude needs to teach classes in how to rock a crowd. His delivery and flow are so sick. How many emcees can just pop up on stage and rip from a reservoir of jams off of six albums of materials. Not that the beat he rhymed over went to any one of the songs he spit but the verses were definitely from albums Phrenology and Rising Down. This is the jam not the album, let the rhythm hit ‘em. Remember in The Roots One (three point seven?) when I said their show evolves? Well, Thought’s delivery does the same; rather he uses his voice as an instrument and the lyrics as his contribution so the actual cadences and tempo adjust to the beat at hand. For more on his lyrical skill and development click here for my man Toure’s Black Thought interview.
Back to the beat.
?uestlove drove the band with hardcore breaks KRS One would love, Pete Rock, J Dilla, and Primo fans would love em too. Tempos changed and moved around from bass line to snare to high hat but the general sound was the hypnotic groove. It was less band-ish than the Roots are usually known for. Since this was a uniquely hip-hop Jam it sort of had to be. Yet incorporating other instruments brought crescendos throughout the night.The crowd loved it. I loved it. As different artists performed the musical peaks and valleys accentuated and moved the concert along.
Wait, getting ahead of myself here. Back to looking at the stage.
Three or four Roots songs in, Black Thought started bringing out guests. And to my great surprise and glee, Dice Raw came through to rip shop. Any Roots fan knows that this dude doesn't always show up but he's all over their albums. Rare treat via my man mo's video below. Enjoy it. As for all the other acts, I didn’t catch everyone’s name. There were two emcees up first. They were cool. Next was Joe Buddens who said about three or four times “I smoke too many cigarettes”. It affected his flow or rather his delivery. No doubt he ripped it but he had to rock it at the end acapella just so everyone knew what he was saying. There were a few females on stage singing. The first girls name I didn't catch. The second was Melody Fiona. She killed it plus she’s real easy on the eyes. Looking forward to hearing more from her. Also after Black Thought ripped into another Roots jam two Latin cats came up: one on trombone and the other on a horn and they killed it but that wasn’t it. Thought this was interlude concert hypeness at the end of the Roots song but no, it was really the intro as Black Thought brought up Peter Hadar. Um. Hadar RIPPED IT! Whew there were a few other acts like the sister with the locks on the violin. Thought she was going to be weak but she rocked hard second only to Hadar. Really that means third because Black Thought still was number one. Black Thought said they met most of these acts on tour in Europe. That’s whassup. I got friends over seas and if they got stuff I like it's time to get over seized and bring it stateside too. That’s the ultimate compliment really.
Bottom line I had almost too much fun at this show y’all. First as you read in The Roots Part One (three point seven?) I hadn’t been to a show in a minute. Now I got my live hip-hop show fix on and well, I’m hooked again. More shows coming. “A live show should be more than just entertainment, it should be an experience.” I said that back when I was penning a column in Uptown Magazine on live concerts to check out in New York City in 2006.
Now the show’s over, house lights up, Black Thoughts handing pounds out to the crowd front stage, and I’m leaving. The Roots stuck to their guns. They presented the Jam and if it comes down to it, I’m going again cause I think they are holding this weekly show thru June.

Q U O T A B L E
A live show should be more than just entertainment, it should be an experience." yours truly

The Roots Part One (three point seven?)

2009-04-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

It started on a Friday a few weeks back. I was at my man Milton’s doing it real easy when I got an email from my girl Nyesha.
Nyesha: Anyone available for The Roots on Jimmy Fallon taping Monday? Have to be there at 4pm.
Hmmn. I like The Roots. Got all the albums even the first one Organix. Plus rumor was that they were considering the late night show house band move. U2 did it. I think that was the tipping point for The Roots to be up next. And let me be clear: I likes a Roots crew show.
ME: I can do it
HER: 100%?
ME: Yeah one hun’ed
The next day she called me about logistics: when to get there, where we would meet, what I needed to bring, et cetera. She sent a confirmation email for me to print out and that was that.
Monday it would be on.
A little background on The Roots Crew is that I have seen their show evolve from album to album. When Do You Want More!? dropped I was in Atlanta, Georgia in college. I heard word of a free concert at Emory University. Emory used to have a spring hip hop show every year.Even though I knew one or two co-eds there, it wasn’t like I kept up with the events calendar. It just so happened that if you knew the right people you would have heard what was going down and when. The spring concert info always made the rounds of the Atlanta University Complex (AUC) those-in-the-know or B.MO.C.’s. That grapevine extended itself to me. Emory didn’t have that many black students but this concert always seemed to at least halfway fill the field with many chocolate brown faces. Full to capacity might be a good two thousand people. This specific time was my freshman or sophomore year. The line up was The Fugees, The Roots, Grand Puba, and someone else or another was going to be there. My whole crew was like “Bet! We out!”. We took the MARTA public transportation there.
No cars, least not yet.
The location was a large open yellow-grassed field on Emory’s campus. The stage was set off the center back and raised about ten feet off the ground with the back end resting on a hill. The field was encircled by a tree line I think. The day was sunny and warm probably round eighty degrees. When I got there The Roots were already on stage doing their thing. Again, at this time The Roots only had Organix and Do You Want More!? out. They pretty much performed the latter but they were such a good band that they also did wickedly good covers of other hip hop acts’ songs. This manifested itself as the live mix tape section of their show. So they were holding down what cats listened to at the time like Wu-Tang Enter the 36 Chambers, Diamond D, Gang Starr, and A Tribe Called Quest like they were DJ Clue himself. If you have never seen it, you missed some good covers cause The Roots do it real big. Actually I recall The Fugees being a lil salty because The Roots covered songs during the mix of their album a little to well or let’s just say better than they did themselves. The only thing left was, you guessed it, a freestyle session. When you have Grand Puba in the house you better get one going and at this concert they sho nuff did. I specifically remember one point after The Roots mix tape medley when Black Thought sparked the freestyle fellowship as ?uestlove, Kamal, and Hub held down a tight hard beat, pure hotness of course. This came after the Scratch versus Razel human beatbox battle. I was standing in the crowd thinking ‘damn is that a cipher?’ cause Puba was on stage while other emcees gathered getting into the groove and waiting their turn on the mic. Guess who was standing like two feet from me crowd side thinking the same thing, Lauryn Hill. She was talking to some girl she knew, paused mid sentence hearing the freestyle fanaticism, turned her head, looked at the stage, and broke out with the quickness. Next thing I know she’s on stage all up in the cipher head nodding, bopping up and down like it’s double dutch trying to jump on the mic next!
Like I said, I likes a Roots crew show.
Fast forward to Things Fall Apart (The Roots: Part Two). I missed all the Illadelphi Halflife shows completely. Oh well, hopefully someone else can drop a blog about ‘em cause at that time The Roots stayed on tour. I was still in Atlanta recently graduated and writing for the new weekly paper on the block. The album is undoubtedly sick and they have five different album covers to boot. It took me a second to decide which cover to get but I think I made a good choice with the bombed out church one. So the paper is of course one of the media sponsors and the day of the concert held a media session at the Yin Yang Café. BTW Yin Yang was the independent artist performance space/ lounge/dance/chill/poetry/creative spot off a dead end street that was really just that block. Yeah it was exposed brick walls, bar, tables and chairs, stage, pool table, and white rock graveled enclosed backyard but it was intimate and in the cut which pretty much made it the best spot ever. They street teamed the interior walls with double sided posters of two of the album covers: the baby in the rubble and the close up of the black baby’s face crying with a tear running down the right cheek. The Roots came, answered press questions, took photos, and was out. The concert was going down in a few hours.
I almost didn’t snag a poster for myself, almost.
They did it up classic style entering from the rear of the crowd single file as ?uestlove struck the cow bell in announcement as they rolled around and up to the stage, took up their instruments, and started to jam. Common showed up later rocking a few colloaboration joints amping the crowd even more. Jill Scott was introduced to sing You Got Me just like off The Roots Come Alive that was released a few years later, and Dice Raw was even there and you know how rare that dude is for an appearance. Yeah, it was pure uncut dope.
Next time I saw The Roots was in New York City (The Roots: Part Three) after the last set at Black Lily and it was the beginning of the end, The Levi’s Tour. It was supposed to be 9-11-2001 but we all know what happened that day so it ended up being 10-11-2001 at B. B. Kings.Yo the show was hot of course. My old roommate Hussein was one of the Coca Cola Brand Managers on this project. This is the beginning of the now mind you. I moved from our loft to his house to New York to launch this paper right. I was doing it covering events, doing interviews, taking photos, and all that. While I was busy doing me, he was busy doing him and our worlds intersected at his event. Of course I had to take flicks which you can see all through this blog entry. It ain't ever been an ordinary life y'all. It's just how i live it. I was so amped I couldn't take it.
This was the first time I saw The Roots play house band behind
Musiq Soulchild,

The Jazzyfatnastees,

Jaguar Wright,

Bilal,

and Amel Larrieux.

Jazzy Jeff played the part of resident Deejay.

I say it was also the beginning of the now because after that ?uestlove started deejaying sets here and there and The Roots became the house band for the neo soul set for years. Really, I just didn’t have the time or energy to keep up with ‘em. I mean they “stay on tour” like Black Thought said. So much so that I haven’t seen them since. This was why when Nyesha hit me about the Jimmy Fallon taping I was amped but not super amped. For real I’d seen it all before, or so I thought.
Now it’s Monday and I am standing inside the NBC building waiting for ol girl and her girl so we can check in for the show. Its first come first served and I am not trying to not make it. Time passes, they show up, we get in, sit down, and the show begins.
The Roots step out single file (classic) with the trombone player belting out notes up front. The crowd was amped (as usual). They rocked out like two of their songs on the fire escape set up stage left. Kamal was set up on the second level up the winding staircase. ?uestlove, Thought and the rest of the band were on the first level. Jimmy Fallon came out and announced the guests and then it got ill.
GTFO!
Public Enemy is going to perform today with The Roots!
Aw hell, this is how you supposed to start ya’ week for real!
Sidebar
I haven’t seen Public Enemy since back in the day in Detroit at the Joe Louis Arena. They killed the show and left the crowd wanting more. It was them Queen Latifah, De la Soul, Slick Rick, and someone else on the tour or was that the Nitro tour? Can’t remember the name of it. Don’t know the year but De La Soul and Latifah only had their first albums out. Every act’s show was good.
End sidebar.
Bring the Noise never sounded so good with a horn section set up stage right, the deejay center stage rear, ?uestlove band stage set up stage left, the S1W’s center stage with Professor Griff, center stage front Chuck D, center stage front left Flava Flav, and center stage front right Black Thought. They ripped it so hard y’all. Took me right back to that kid at the concert back in the day. I was dancing in my seat lovely wit it!
That was that. Show was over. Jimmy gave the crowd hi-fives up and down the aisles. Day was done, we left it was only like 6pm so we hit up Katz deli for some pastrami and corn beef sandwiches. It was a good day y’all, real good.
Whew, I had a lot of fun and didn’t spend a dime. Thanks Nyesha. Part Three coming soon The Roots show at the Highline ballroom. You better hurry if ya trying to go is all I’m saying. Ya better hurry for real cause at the Highline they ain’t the house band. It’s a 100% Roots Crew show! And if you know The Roots, you know their show evolves and I love a good evolution so I’m wondering what’s next and I can’t wait!

Ahem, like i said at the top of this, I likes a Roots crew show and up next is The Roots presents The Jam.

Q U O T A B L E

"The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me."
-Ayn Rand

scrimmages from the front lines of the battle between the sexes: happiness versus regret - a gut's tale

2009-04-06T17:01:00.000-07:00

After leaving Machupiccu we headed back to Lima for one more night. The second half of our trip took us to a fishing village on the northern coast of Peru near Bolivia. We had just landed in Tumbes from Lima and piled in a van. Next stop Mancora where we were renting a bungalow on the beach. It was dusk when we landed and dark rolling down the highway. No one’s really sleep. We all are kind of keeping each other up and we get into that discussion of significant past relationships. There was a round of how many significant others and a round of whys and what happened.
My why comment was about a good relationship, seriously it really was. Ol Girl, lets call her Dana, was great. Still is. We met at a house party in my post college (P.C.) Atlanta years. These were some especially good house parties back then full of beers, liquor, and young upwardly mobile blacks from around the country looking for a good time with friends and a possible hook up from the opposite sex. Yep, pool parties counted. Birthdays, barbeques at the park, and crab boils were on deck too. Some parties were annual but most were just because. This house party came complete with it’s own margarita machine or was it snow cones? I forget. But I didn’t forget the girl I saw when I walked in the door. I didn’t forget her when I first called her to hang out or when I broke the glass in her kitchen on our first date.
My bad.
Anyway Dana and I were kicking it strong for a few days, weeks, months, and things were going good, real good - holiday parties, birthdays, new years and all that type good. I was writing for Rolling Out and teaching at the time. The paper was two years old and growing sponsoring events and stuff. Jill Scott concert? Got that and some flicks in the paper to boot. Radio station jams? Housed that one too. Movie screenings? Gyeah. Yeah it was all good. Ol girl? Aw man, she was perfect. I mean if I could have drawn and ordered a sister with specific height, measurements, skin tone, and a fierce competitiveness I couldn’t have done better. I was like “yo, I can really get out the game on this one,” but there was a problem. One I tried to ignore but couldn’t. I am good at a lot but I am great at projection. I projected the future of this relationship for real. Had to. It had no flaws. So I imagined kids, houses, financial security, et cetera but I saw something else-regret. I was telling the Peru crew the highlights but not the dark side.
“She was everything I wanted at the time but it didn’t work out.”
Stunned and bewildered looks and then, “So what happened?”
Look at who I am now. I like to explore be that continents, countries, social groups, and cultures and write about it. This usually means moving from place to place, region to region, and hemisphere to hemisphere. I am also a voracious reader-see natcreole.com/lit plus my staff picks at mcnallyjackson.com. I could be just as happy reading a book or thinking one up. In 2001 who I was then? I was a teacher who wrote for a paper on the side living in a fly loft downtown Atlanta and my girl was chilling with her own house one county away. I was happy but was I? I wasn’t thinking about taking any trips while before that I was trying to get to Tokyo with the six hour layover in Amsterdam to holler at my boy Phil (see publisher natcreole.com). Didn’t make that cause the flight was sold out. And I could of just shifted back into gear but I didn’t. I had plans that included moving to New York City (NYC). Do I try and maintain this relationship? Would it even be fair? Same answer to both. I don’t ask any woman to change. Be you, I’ll be me. If we work, we do. If we don’t… My gut speaks truth. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to maintain it long distance trying to get this paper on in NYC but if I didn’t move what path would my life be on then? Would I be the writer I could be? My gut says the whole writing gig’s a gamble. Life in Atlanta was good as is financially stable as ever. I knew that if I did not move I would regret it and that regret would slowly poison any happiness I had over time. But that’s more than went into my answer in the van. What I said to the Peru crew was,
“She doesn’t like to fly or to read (for pleasure).”
Which was true and major reasons why I felt the need to break up. It wasn’t her, it was me. I didn’t want her to be unhappy. I didn’t want me to be unhappy either but if we stayed together one of us, me, would have been. Sucks right? So I picked up the phone and in a few words threw in the towel with little explanation or extras and got the hell out of her way. Real talk I did want her to be happy even if it wasn’t with me.
“This ain’t gonna work.”
Sitting there on a trip in another country on another continent in another hemisphere it was pretty clear to the group what happened. I mean it was easy enough to say in the van then but it really was kind of messed up to say at the time. Come on, you meet a woman who is like everything you are thinking of and find out that it wasn’t enough is a lot. It’s messed up. I was still processing that one for a few months while I was working my way into the New York entertainment matrix. It made me really re-assess what I wanted and why. I thought I was done with that but I was just getting started. Damn. Black College life wasn’t enough? Thought I made nuff mistakes there but oh no, I had to go find new ones. Note to self: don’t forget to add “travel” and “reads” to The List. You live and you learn right?
I did.
Ol girl and I are actually cool to this day but I am sure she is wondering what the hell happened. I know I could have told her all the reasons why back then but really I didn’t. Brook version 2001 wasn’t that dude. Brook 2008 wasn’t that dude either but Brook 2009, yeah I’m that dude. Now I got a few tales from my book “Ghosts of Women Past” but this particular story I was never expecting to have or really tell. All said and done I am glad it happened.
Trust.
And if you missed what I was talking about the nutshell is real easy: when you get what you want, it may not be all it’s cracked up to be. Your gut knows and your gut ain’t wrong. Least not mine. Because on top of everything else, I wrote the least I have ever written when I was with her since I started creative writing and I don’t regret that lull but I would have if we stayed together. Real talk that ain’t what I want and I know it!
What about you? What do you want?

Q U O T A B L E
"This life is yours. Take the power to choose what you want to do and do it well. Take the power to love what you want in life and love it honestly. Take the power to walk in the forest and be a part of nature. Take the power to control your own life. No one else can do it for you. Take the power to make your life happy."
-Susan Polis Schutz

Peru Chronicles, the end is the beginning: machupiccu

2009-03-09T15:24:00.000-07:00

After long days and short nights we made it through the rain, the elevation, and our wills and our won'ts to one of the wonders of the world in a place that seemed to reach into the heavens. Was this the image the greeks conjured when they thought of Olympus the home of the gods? Incan design and purpose for an Incan center of learning and sacrifice. Incan selection of location and an Incan Trail to take you there. Machupicchu is an Incan destination for their best and most deserving citizens. it took up until the early 20th century for anyone else to be taken there. keyword: TAKEN. Quecheua's knew but weren't telling.

Okay. Machupiccu is...

Q U O T A B L E
"When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds: Your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great, and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive, and your discover yourself to be a greater person by far than you ever dreamed yourself to be."
-Patanjali

Peru Chronicles: The Inca Trail Hike

2009-03-02T18:00:00.000-08:00

Pictures tell the hike's story. I will say only this: My dad would say this hike is like a game of golf.
Stay on the path. To the left there is certain doom, to the right comfort, or vice versa. Sometimes you are moving up the trail, others down, and stlll others around. Even in the rain, keep going. In the sun, keep going. Rest. Refresh. Look around. Now go. It ain't over yet.
Don't forget this one thing tho.
Take a look around, it is beautiful out here.
HIKE DAY ONE

HIKE DAY TWO- AFTER DEAD WOMAN'S PASS

HIKE DAY THREE: STOPPING TO SMELL THE ROSES

Q U O T A B L E
"You will achieve grand dream, a day at a time, so set goals for each day / not long and difficult projects, but chores that will take you, step by step, toward your rainbow. Write them down, if you must, but limit your list so that you won't have to drag today's undone matters into tomorrow. Remember that you cannot build your pyramid in twenty-four hours. Be patient. Never allow your day to become so cluttered that you neglect your most important goal / to do the best you can, enjoy this day, and rest satisfied with what you have accomplished."
-Og Mandino

Real Hip Hop 1: So Far to Go by J Dilla

2009-02-18T15:25:00.001-08:00

just in case you DIDN'T know the quotable...

Sacred Valley:the calm before the storm

2009-02-18T14:00:00.000-08:00

Now after the past few days of adjusting, exploring, eating and getting to know each other, the actual hiking started. We first began in the Sacred Valley with a short tour of some ruins and hillsides.

We took flicks but this was our test. Before that quick hike was a Quechua village. Wow…

From there we went to the last bit of civilization and did another quick ruin hike. There we heard more about the history and culture of the Incan Civilization. After this, we were done. The only thing left was to start the actual four day Inca trail hike the next day.

I’m not going to tell you about the four day Inca Trail in detail. I am going to let the pictures speak like these here. Let 'em marinate. I will say each day had it’s trials, tribulations, battles of will, laughter, grim faces, and smiles. For now, we each took a pause before the storm. Sheesh y'all, i'm trying not to get emotional bout this...

Q U O T A B L E
"YOU HAVE COME SO FAR, YOU'VE GOT SO FAR TO GO"
-So Far to Go; JDilla Featuring Common & D'angelo

RIP james yancey

Peru Chronicles: The Day of Adjustment: Cusco

2009-02-02T20:49:00.000-08:00

From the top that sleep was light. When my alarm went off I was 100% up. I could hear the traffic outside on the main street, feel the humidity in the air, and knew it was just soon to be dawn when I finally opened my eyes. It was still dim but only just not dark. I hopped up, took a shower, and threw on my gear to hit breakfast which started at 6:30. We were out of there at 7 into the van to the airport.
Pulled my backpack and suitcase downstairs and found Ant and Kyra already there. I dug in and before I could get my plate, Arana and Li showed up. Next it was my roommate Shawn then Danielle and Loren. Marley and Chris were next and then Kendra. Times up, board the van and we were out.
Good bye Lima. Won't see you again til after Christmas.
The ride to the airport seemed long and scenic. We passed through Miraflores and got a good eye at the less pristine areas of Lima. The hood looks like the hood in every country. Hate to say it but the graffiti tells all. That and the bodegas or Mini Marts. Well the stray dogs too. They were the most beautiful mixed breeds. Anyone stateside would be full of pride to have any one of them based on aesthetics.
We rode into morning rush hour seeing folks on their way to work or back home from it. Some looked weary, others expectant and mainly folks looked blank. Withdrawn inside to where ever their mind floats too.
At the airport the Tour Company Representative took our passports and arranged our boarding passes and airport taxes then sent us off to the terminals.
Aight! We about to do this. There was a 15 minute massage set up and three of the girls opted for it. We only had like 25 minutes total. Folks split up. Some went to eat, some went to find the terminal, and Loren and I stood and waited. Then we started gathering folks cause we had to make the plane.
Security checks passed we sat around and waited for them to let us onto the tarmac and up into the plane. I got a window seat.
Next thing you know we took off. I didn't start looking out the window at first. Don't know when it happened but into the flight I looked out and down and all I saw were ranges of brown mountaints as far as the eye could see.
Um, we were going in for real somewhere deep into this range.

Later, we landed on a strip somewhere in a valley inside these mountains. This city is Cusco. Later I would learn it means "navel" but then I only knew it meant a high altitude and I hope I wasn't going to have any altitude sickness issues. I knew the moment the doors opened I would find out for better or worse and I hoped for the first one.
geez i really, really hoped i'd be alright.

The doors opened, we exited onto the tarmac, and I felt fine. Cusco sits about 1150 feet above sea level and is one of the oldest cites in this hemisphere. The sun was warm, the wind cool, and the air crisp. So far so good. We got our bags, found our van, and was whisked away to the hotel. Once inside the skylight lit dining area was set for our group of 13 to sit and have our first briefing.
We sat and filled out forms( insurance, contact information, etc...) and Percy showed up. He explained our hike day by day, the 7 kilograms of bag weight we had to pack, and how we could rent sleeping bags, air mattresses, and walking sticks. Two sticks he suggested. I got one of each but soon opted up for two walking sticks. I REALLY COULD HAVE TAKEN A BAD ONE IF I DIDN'T DO THAT!
He explained a little more, answered a few questions, and that was that. My first impression was that he was definitely native because of his orange skin tone and use of English as a second language. No dis here. Percy is the man. He explained everything clearly and hoped we wouldn't be a problem. I feel him on that. I hoped we wouldn't be a problem either. We retired to our rooms for a nap but not before agreeing to link up later for exploring and lunch. It was still early and would be when we connected later too.
The nap was quick and annoying. The outside street life kept messing with my sense of relaxation. When i saw that time was up to connect I shot up quick then realized just as fast I needed to lay back down.
Sheesh. Light headed. What is that? altitude adjustment? I hope this goes away quick.

Feeling a little queasy I eventually I got up in shifts. First i sat up slowly in bed. Then I leaned forward from a sitting position. Next slowly, ever so slowly, I stood up. Cool. Now let me move around a bit. Okay again. time to head downstairs.
In the lobby we all connected and stepped out for the main square. Wow. getting to the square we really get a good look at the mountain range Cusco sits inside. Spectacular. Looking over the basillica's of churches and the two story buildings the town extends up the hills. Funny. The long narrow cobble stone streets here look mad familiar. I wasn't the only one thinking it, Danielle, Ant, and Arana were too.
"It looks like Salvador, Brazil" I said.
They agreed. It DID look like salvador. A little to much like it. Whassup with that?
PHOTO BY DEMBYCRATIC
While this was going on the high altitude continued giving me major issues. I had to sit back. Arana asked me how I was feeling. I don't think I was looking to hot.
"Tired. Breathless. Got a headache. Cold sweats is breaking out. I think i need hydration and food."
She agreed. We started walking around looking for a place. We had recommendations and finally ended up down the road through a doorway into a central court and up two flights of stairs to a wonderfully delicious place that was fusion European Peruvian dishes. The spot reminded me of a brownstone converted into a restaurant like Red Bamboo's upstairs in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. The ceiling was covered or was it cross hatched? with long narrow tree branches or roots and shined hardwood floors. That was the bar. The next room had a rich red painted walls bordered by dark polished wood. The room was decorated with cloth covered tables and wooden seat cushioned chairs. the lone window gave a view of rooftops, mountains beyond and open sky.
We took the table and i sat down quietly to eat and drink. Ant and I shared an appetizer mixed greens salad with candied walnuts, goat cheese, and green grapes topped with a balsamic vinagrette dressing. Mouthwatering yo. My entree was some chicken pasta with peppers and onions in a cream sauce. It was good but I really didn't care as long as it did the trick. No experimenting necessary. Jess gimme the food. The highlight was really the drinks: mint lemonade. Think Lemonade Mojito without the alcohol and you got it. I perked up after a few sips cause the beverages came first.
wait. I got to talk about the warm rolls and dip. What was that? something really good like hummus or some honey mustardy oil or I don't know it was just good!
The music was a trip here too. It was all stuff I had or ant had but obscure like the person was just playing it to see if you knew your stuff or not. granted all of it was good but it was like the one song I heard that was a jazzanova remix.
"yo i was just listening to that a few weeks ago." But the album was Janzanova The Remixes 1997-2000. obscure right?
Leaving there the group feel apart with folks going off on their own. Arana and i hit the church off the square.
Yo, good choice cause the Catedral was unlike any other I have seen.
PHOTO BY DEMBYCRATIC
It was literally like the Great Hall of the Dwarfs in The Lord of the Rings Movie but with art and decor that you would have to go to Rome to see.
The center of the main hall is a walkway from one side of the church to the other. on one side is the large ornate gold altar. on the other side are two rows of pews in a 30 by 40 foot grid. Behind the pews is another crosswalk. Behind that is the choir loft sitting a three step flight up. All wood. All ornately carved in a fashion it would only be cruel to try and describe. Now all of this sits in the center of this rectangular room between large pillars (see lord of the rings again to get a feel for this space). Around the perimeter of this central rectangle against the walls are the usual prayer and saint displays and portraits. Only everything is ornate and detailed. the statues here wear actual silk, velvet, gold and silver adornments. The portraits are easily 40 foot by 40 foot pieces. yo this space is crazy!
Eventually we made it out of there.
I don't ever want to ever go in there again if i aint got a camera. EVER!
The night winds down, we go to a market place, hit a supermarket for snacks, the hotel restaurant for dinner, and everybody tries to pack their 7 kilograms. It wasn't easy AT ALL but we did it. Next stop. the hike.
Good night. Whew I'm tired and i was out like a light...

Q U O A T A B L E
JESS MAKE IT HAPPEN... yours truly

Jess mo peru chronicles brother president, Lima Day 3:crew lov

2009-01-23T16:38:00.001-08:00

It was a long week...
I mean black folks went from being whipped and chained in an unknown land by unknown people taught nothing but unlearned everything to becoming the virtual leader of the free world and president of the united states on tuesday. The "17 minutes of funk" also known as Brother President Obama's acceptance speech had me amped. I was at the packed bookstore with everyone staring at the Projection screen and listening to the proceedings on the main store stereo.
It messes with you if you know the history ya know. I have always said that Black Americans were always the savior of this country. Now we really have to save it from itself and the world as well. We got a big job ahead. We gotta do it. I wonder if everyone feels that charge?
I do.
Even more so after the trip to Peru. Hopefully in this series of blogs I can relate it.
DAY 3
Okay. I have to admit that every morning begins great and each day gets better. Same old Colonial room. Same warm sun greeting me through the white curtains. Same stretch up and morning yawning. But that's just it, nothing else is the same. It is December and it's hot. I'm not in New York or America at all, I'm elsewhere and dagnabit I love being elsewhere. I remember this morning distinctly. It was my last morning in a single room before the hike. I remember it because I was enjoying my singularity. I always do. Some people are not comfortable within their own skin and left to their own devices. I'm not one of them. I like to be by myself, that can be a plus and minus socially, and I love to explore. Today's plan was to get downtown to Central Lima. We also have to switch hotels and check out is around 1pm. Its early. Time to to eat breakfast and fortunately this hotel has a continental one included.
Heading downstairs to the dinning hall I already see Ant and Kyra chilling at a table two plates ahead of me into the buffet. The room was rectangular with the buffet holding down the center on four long white cloth covered tables set up in a square. Side one had three fresh squeezed fruit juices, milk and other beverages. Side two had all the rolls, cakes, and cereal. Side three had the hot plates of fish, eggs, sausage, pancakes? and what not. Side four had cold cults trays of ham, cheese, and assorted fruits. The back wall had coffee and hot water along with an assortment of tea bags. Yep, same ol Latin continental breakfast. I made little ham and cheese sandwiches taking a cue from my Brazilian trip. Kyra was on her "out of town ish" packing for later. It was a good look. I should start doing that too. I did. We three decided to get out in the city after a quick neccessity trip. I needed cash, Ant had to hit the store, and Kyra was meeting Margarita. Somehow we all ended connecting back up outside near the plaza. Shorty out reserching the Graffiti culture rolled up out of nowhere then too. We laughed and looked at each other like on some ol Seinfield six degrees of separation. Ant and I first saw ol girl walking by herself right outside the ATM I used off the busy main street leading up to the plaza. We were chatting there when Kyra and Margarita rolled up.
Hay!
Hay!?
Er, Hay?
Simpsons intro moment of each one looking at another then back to a third.
A short email check later at the hotel and we checked out, got cabs, and jetted to the other spot. Guess where it was?
Right next to that Papa John's! We checked in and bounced out to Central Lima via cabs. Mad nice architecture again but the high rises reaked of the 70's. They got the smallest cars here too. Most of em are cabs but still, the traffic can be kinda murderous. We even had to hit the freeway but it was worth it. The route to downtown is an access road that becomes a city street. It bottlenecks off the exit ramp. It is not really cool either how the fifteen lanes of traffic gets gridlocked. There is a large, well, field that sits in front of the central area entrance. Around that space or flat square are large buildings that scream Spanish Colonial and Roman Republic design. Or is it just all Roman? Who knows? We took flicks once we got into the central square admiring the Nativity scenes, Christmas trees, churches, and building exteriors namely the wooden enclosed balconies. I guess we were wilding in shorts and T-shirts but it was hot.

We even strolled down the shopping strip and ate at a local chicken spot. No bull, the rotisserie quarter chicken with fries and a salad was good.
I was bummed when I seen the salad.
"The guide book says stay away from the leafy vegetables and anything that grows low to the ground."
Peer pressure moments later i ate it and was bubbling that whole afternoon for real ya'll.
We came, we saw, we ate then cabbed it back to the hotel and took afternoon siestas. There was a meeting for the hike at 7pm. Soon we would get the low down and meet the rest of the hike crew. We were seven and the hike was thirteen.
On time, we met in the dining hall. One table was set for fourteen. The tour service rep was there telling us that it was raining in the mountains ( it was the rainy season) and that the last group actually left late because of it. We were a little put off but she assured us things were on schedule for our trip. Murmurs and sips from a round of Pisco sours later we were set: flights left in the morning for Cusco. Have a good night and the rep was out.

The thirteen of us then decided to do our last dinner in a big city together. We ended up at a modern outdoor open roofed mall overlooking the Pacific off the coast. The restaurant sits at the bottom of it and has a couple balcony's over the crashing waves about ten stories below. We sat in one, chatted, and got to know each other a little. The newcomers were two married couples, a single man, and single woman. One couple and the single two were Canadian but not from the same cities. The other couple was Australian and he had been on this hike before. We all got along so it was going to be alright. I think everyone breatheed that sigh of relief.

After dinner The New York Crew plus One bounced to Bancorra to hang out. It was the same area I went to lunch in the day before. I remembered the square and the Biblioteca from then. Ended up getting a dope chess board of Incans versus Spaniards. Li did too. Truthfully, Li did first. Then we tasted desserts cause they had vendors and a food court.

Yo, those desserts were slammin! Danielle had a what was it, butterscotch tiramasu? whatever it was, it was screaming. From there we walked the bar strip. I think that's the thing there, strips or blocks where there are bar/clubs. Finally we bounced back to the hotel. We had to be up in the morning.
All said and done, everybody was excited. It was one thing to be in Lima but to start hiking in the Andes Mountains?
We were feeling some kind of wonderful.I mean really, you can't make this stuff up: Inca Trails, Mountains, Peru for the holidays; yeah we were tripping. Problem is, most folks don't trip enough.
I went to sleep that night but just barely. All I could think of was what i didn't bring and was what I had enough for this hike. I mean four days in the mountains without contact. Anything could happen. Hopefully something spectacular. There was a trickle of fear in this. Honestly. But it was there to keep a healthy resolve and respect for the journey. I had to relearn respect for the water in Brazil almost getting swept out to sea. I wanted to be sure to respect the mountain in Peru and not fall off. I had a reading before I went too. My spirit guide related I needed to be open to this experience. I was but I just didn't know for what.Still sorting that one out because I cam e back so much better than I left. The whole experience shifted or opened something inside me for the better. Right then, I just felt the anticipation of it. Seriously I had the feeling all year that i needed to take a journey to open something that had been closed or hidden. I felt it in Amsterdam in March and Jamaica in July. I was ancy and ready to get this show on the road drifting off to sleep at the same time. And when I slept it was like a child on Christmas eve itching for morning so i could run downstairs to the living room to open up gifts. And the gifts had already started opening.

Q U O T A B L E
"It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll."
-Donald Miller

Lima nights: Pisco sours, friends, & fun

2009-01-11T10:14:00.001-08:00

So it's 3:30 pm and I spent all day out in the hot sun. Fortunately Lima is a coastal city in a valley surrounded by Mountains. This means the cool Pacific air blows through and up into the mountains. In this heat, sheesh, so glad to have it day and night.
But it isn't night yet and I am still nagged by the Loren and Li situation. Once I stroll back into the lobby of my hotel I stop at the front desk.
"Any messages for room 319?"
The young Peruvian woman quickly checked the box for that room number. I saw the note just before she touched it. Hair pulled back in a bun she stood about five foot four with an oval friendly disposition albeit reserved.
She handed me the note and I read it. It came right after I left for the ruins at 10 am. Loren wants to meet up at 4pm and to call her.
Cool.
I hit the business center to check my email real quick. Ah. Margarita is trying to link for lunch. Lemme email her my room number to call me. I think she has a peruvian phone so it will be a local call.
Back at the room I wait. soon, Loren calls. She's getting a mani-petti and will be free around 6pm and we should link after that. The rest of the crew should be in about the same time from the airport.
Just then someone knocked at my door. I was on the phone and yelled out
"Just a minute!"
Got off the phone and the porter said I had a guest in the lobby. I already knew who it was.
Downstairs I could see Margarita sitting on a sofa busy on her phone, handbag in her lap, sunglasses tucked into her hair.
"Margarita, funny seeing you here."
She smiled, got up and gave me a hug.
"Ready?"
"yep"
We were out to get some grub in the bancorra section of Lima. There was a restaurant reviewed in the New York Times there. Great food and atmosphere maybe a local celebrity or two. Ceviche anyone? I'm getting it. Aftrer winding around grafitti scrawled walls and streets we found the spot on a corner. The daylight was deciding to dusk and was in that golden moment.
We entered the spot from the corner and inside the high walls were lined with posters, soccer jersery from various teams, and from the cieling flags of various countries. The spot itself was empty save two pairs of couples. Now it had three.
We sat and chatted up on Margarita's trip. She was there working on a documentary on Afro-Peruvians. One of the main characters is a woman who Margarita had just recently found out had a former occupation that put the whole project in perspective.
"She picked cotton." Margarita said.
GTFOH! Picking cotton in the 21st century? Yeah. Can't wait to see the end results of this photojournalism project for real.
The Ceviche was great. Delicious. Met the owner and took a few photos. He was, um, friendly.
Next thing you know we hop the cab, take a trip to the local market, head back to the plaza near the hotel, go back to the hotel, and then go back to the plaza because now we are about to link up with the rest of the crew:
Ant
Kyra
Danielle
Arana
Loren
and Li.
Cause we hungry and it's finally dark.
This plaza, Parque Central and Parque Kennedy, was a major thoroughfare. It sat between two major streets that ran in oppositie directions and crossed at the top. More of a triangle shaped park made up the middle, Parque Central. The bottom half of the triangle contained the walkway between the two long sides, Parque Kennedy. There is a large church on the bottom right side of that walkway with a street perpindicular to it. Behind the church (photo above) are stores, hostels and restaurants with outdoor covered seating deep into the street. Oppostie the seat a small bazar, benches, trees, lush grass landscaping, and a walkway. We ended up eating in one of those restaurants outside. Yeah December 19th i believe and we are eating outside at night for dinner.
We were kinda hype all at once. We were finally here and bout to do this hike. No one was really sure what was going to happen but on the strentgh of being in a part of the world where December was summertime definitely helped.
Pisco Sours- the signature drink of the country was the first round choice. Ant got something else and it was gone real quick. I sipped my sour. It was tasty and had the color and flavor of a margarita no salt except for the that foam top that never disipated. I thought I was through with my drink when I decided to taste that foam for real.
gasp.
"Yo danielle drink the foam. Its alcoholic."
Danielle was sitting next to me, grabbed her drink, tried the foam, looked over at me and nodded.
The food here was tasty but we had no idea how well we were about to eat at this point. Let's juust say it was down on the list but still good.
The night was going well. We ate, cracked jokes, walked around a bar strip, stopped in bars taking flicks, and jest enjoyed the warm breezy nite along iwth everyone else. Eventually we made our way to a little sexy modern bar lounge. Inside were large pillowed sofas and chairs and a bar in the front room. The middle room was about five steps back and two steps up. the floors were hardwood. the ceiling was about twelve feet high and the walls were painted burgundy and decorated with black framed photos of celebrities from the 60's up in various fields of performance.We stepped through there down two steps to another cozy room and on through there to a private room. This warm intimate dining room held a large rectangular table with enough chairs for our poarty of eleven and not much more room than that. Our group had added four new members. Margarita had met a sister out working on a Fulbright scholarship. She came thru with three friends. Plus she was Kyra's old roommate. Small world right?
We all sat and chatted enjoying our post dinner drinks there as the days activities setttled in. Everyone was tired from traveling, eating, drinking, and just expending nervous energy. We were not the last ones leaving the place but we sure were wore out when we did. Thankfully the hotel Ant, Kyra, Danielle, Arana and I were staying in was around the corner. Loren and Li were posted up in the sister hotel to ours which we would be moving to for tomorrow night. Our last night in Lima before the hike.
Margarita was headed back to the states the next day. Fulbright and friends were off. She had a hook up to a graffiti spot opening and after party for tomorrow night. Sounds like a plan.
Our first day linking up done. Now on to day two.

Q U O T A B L E
"at the beginning is just that, everything else happens after" - from yours truly because this was our beginning. Intl trips with friends is the movement. Trips without friends is too. Take one. You will see.

Miraflores Day Two:the people, the place, the thing

2009-01-04T12:02:00.000-08:00

Day two is always the best. You wake up knowing you are elsewhere. The air smells different. The Sun feels different. The weather, hopefully, is different warmer. Yeah. I woke up in the Miraflores area of Lima, Peru like that.
First move of the day, breakfast.
I should have gone to the hotel buffet but I didn't know there was one. I dressed, hit the lobby, and then the street. Warm humid sunny morning meet my lungs and skin opening up my pores. Took a left up to the main boulevard Larco. Then i went two doors down to the open Cafe. A pleasant breakfast of srambled eggs with ham, wheat toast, fresh squeezed pineapple juice, and cafe de leche met me there. As wearm as it was, I totally forgot it was about to be Christmas in a few days. "Frosty the Snowman" on the radio brought it all back.
Damn. They really do have Christmas as the start of summer here. Wildness. Me, a kid born and raised in Midwest artic winters, was in hot humid Peru. Go figure.
Back to this spot though. Major Italian motif and it reminded me of Rome where our breakfast meal was the same inside this cafe shop on Via Ottavio around the corner from our rented apartment near the Vatican. Good coffee in Rome too.
Hmmn. This trip was already so different. the whole itenerary was crazy. Three cities, one hike, one bungaloo, and two and a half weeks covering christmas and new years. I was alone now. Loren and Li were supposed to get in early that day but I hadn't heard from them. Am sure they are okay but still. I was beginning to have worry line my brow. I emailed em. All I had to do was check for the response.
I soon took it back to the room, grabbed my bag, and headed for my first adventure: Huaca Pucllana an adobe pyramid from the Liman peoples who used to inhabit the area. It was listed in my Moon Peru guide book as being a site in Miraflores to check out. The Moon Peru Guide also had a map of this area and I saw I had about a fifteen to twenty block hike to get there. No need for public transport. I wanna peep morning life here on foot.
Leaving the hotel I passed a bunch of other hotels, bodegas, high rises, and hostels. They were in various shades of 70's style construction. Cool. Wait. That sun is getting mad hot on my dome. I wish I checked the weather. Mental note: slow down. No need for NY speed walking. You are on vacation. See the sights but keep ya wits about ya.
I came to an overpass and crossed it. Now I was in a straight neighborhood. Most of the homes are two story cube designs. More 70's work. Gardners were washing sidewalks and watering grasses. Women were out with their dogs. A few cars, a few taxis-all small. Then I saw it in the distance, the ruin. Its massive. Closer i get, brighter it gets outside. Later in the morning. The ruin takes up at least a circumference of ten city blocks here. Still see excavation in progress, llamas, Peruvian hairless dogs, guinea pigs, and other animals.
First thought was to scout it out for everyone else to peep later. Maybe I should wait? Nah. Im here. let's do this.
I go in, pay seven soles (3 u.s. dollars) and wait inside the display/information room. Another patron is there. An Aussie. I find that out later, well. I found out once she spoke and the accent rolled out her mouth. Nervous. We are the only people in the room. Am sure we were each thinking the same thought of the other: Who is this other stranger in this strange land? I hope your cool.
Peep my universal greeting, "so kiwis are New Zealander's right?"( shout out to Cheryl on this one, Mcjackson staff know what im talkin bout)
"Roight!" (accented, releived, at ease)
See?
Crack an inside joke the other doesn't expect you to know and ya peeps for life, international relations 101 y'all. Semz was in Lima doing the Inca Trail and the Lake Titicaca tour with the same company I was, G.A.P. Adventures. We had different hikes so we probably wouldn't be seing each other on the trail. For now we teamed up like super heroes to check out this historical site. Our man Alex, a native Peruvian who actually used to play soccer on this hill as a kid, was our guide and he dropped mad knowledge. As he walked us around showing us how to differentiate between the original work and reconstructed work, why they built the walls they way they did, etc...we talked about Lima the city, Miraflores the area, and how foreign investment in real estate was hurting both. Looking out past the site from the top of it, the homes are only two levels but contruction was in progress on at least four high rises with at least four others looking newly built.
It reminded me hauntingly of what is happening in Brooklyn, New York.
Semz said the same thing was happening in Newcastle, Australia.
A moment y'all. Three different people. Three different cultures. Three different continents. Three observations. One conclusion.
None of us liked what we saw.
"Its going to make things worse", Alex said finally, "Too many people in Lima as it is. It never rains here. all the water is in the mountains." then in a tour related tangent, "That's why this site still exists." Mudbricks would have eroded is what he meant.
the day continued on after. Learned more about the Limans and their sacrifices too. They would make pottery and break it during the ceremony to symbolize new beginnings.
I broke a flute at Molaundo's going away party for me. I actually felt better about it hearing the Liman's ritual.
A new beginning. That's exactly what it was. Even with high rises going up around it.
Yep, new.
Time to leave so we exchanged info with Alex and Semz and I left. Where to now?
"Im headed to the lighthouse and the mall overlooking the shore."
Sounds like a plan to me and we were out. More walking through Miraflores with maps in guidbooks.More getting lost and found. Damn maps. They never say wich way is North. Shouldn't they say that? Anyway, we passed a Papa Johns on the corner of a main street across the parkway from an Addidas store. Wow. Why the hell do they have Papa John's Pizza here?
Too many questions.
More walking and we get to the lighthouse. There it seems semz and I have more in common. We are both educators so we discuss the happenings of education both in the states and Australia. think its bad here? well its bad there too. Same classroom problems. Same inept administration. At least there it looks like they are doing something better. They are using a school that has a model that actually works and trying to apply it system wide.
"Makes sense to me" Semz said.
Me too. But America never does that...they have a million little schools doing well but never do they try to adapt success district wide. Let's leave state and national out of it. maybe i should start writing about THAT too...hmmmn
Watch water surfers. Watch waves. Watch wind surfers. Think James Bond. Think about education. What would happen if Average Joe Americans did start actively caring or at least got viable information on what's out there? Say goodbye to Semz and head back to the hotel. Its about 3:30pm and I need to check my messages. I really am thinking Loren and Li should have reached out by now.

Q U O T A B L E
no quote this time... jess let it marinate

next up...meeting up with da peeps!

First Impressions Day One: Miraflores area of Lima, Peru

2008-12-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

Okay,
This blog starts last night because I have been running ever since the week started. Eastern Mountain Sports is my new favorite store. They got me all the gear and, thanks to the recession, a nice discount on the whole enchilada.
Now let´s time check this thing on out cause I didn´t sleep til the first leg of the flight.

7pm packing.
um my bag was full and the pants I thought i bought were actually tops. Got to go back because the flight leaves at 5am and Molaundo has a send of set at his bed-stuy pad in Brooklyn at 7pm. I go back to EMS in soho from my Crown Height Brooklyn flat to exchange pants and grab emergen-c for the trip.
8:30pm
get to Moe´s and the party gets started. Big ups to Molaundo,Lizz, Michi, Renae, Rasu, Vince, Dante, Jessica, Keisha and all for the drinks, camraderie, and toasts.
1am
pack,shower,clean and be out.I think i am taking to much stuff.
2:45am
check in at JFK
5:30am
board plane and pass out as Prince Caspian plays as in flight movie.
10am
land in Costa Rica. The mountains surrounding the airport are sick. Rolling lines of massive hills full of foliage and man made structures sparsely placed. Sitting in the airport the strip and plane give perspective to the massive land behind it in the distance. Sitting there looking out those mountains seem so close but they aren´t. The homes are tiny from this angle. The sky hangs so low. Billows of clouds barely graze those mountain hill tops and then beyond them is blue sky.
11am
board plane for Lima. In flight movie: The Great Debaters. Sit and watch the passengers-almost all Peruvian-first neglect then begin to watch and listen to the movie. They love it. I feel them see me, see it and we all think of Obama NOT of the guy who got two shoes thrown at him (shout out and props to the journalist that threw them).
side note¨: I get chummy with the couple next to me in my row as we all watch, eat, and drink.
3pm
touch down in Lima, go thru customs, get that stamped in the passport, and take a shuttle to the hotel in Miraflores.
4:30pm
check in drop off luggage and walk right back out to explore. First things first, this area reminds me a lot of the baha area of Bahia in Brazil. Duh, same continent oppostite coast. The homes are immaculate, gated, and arm guarded. I repeat ARMED guarded. Mostly a mixture of wood, stucco, and concrete the designs seem mainly Frank Llyod Wright influenced with foliage and glass as the defining accents asd the floors are stacked in boxes and rectangles off the street level. There´s a small park not to far from here. Further past that the coastline and zigzagging steps to the shore below. Found a couple of restaurants and delicatesens and a casino. Why are there casinos here?
6pm
Walking around to the main strip guess what, its packed. The hotel is right off that and folks are out. There are shops carying women´s clothing, tobacco, drug stores, Mcdonalds, burger king, Pizza hut and all. There is a bookstore and its got hot mainstream titles with different artwork covers for the Dune series, Stephen King, and of course the native son Peruvian favorite Mario Vargas Llosa. Because the weather is so nice I keep forgeting its actually Christmas next week. People are shopping. I am watching em.
8pm
found another slew of restaurants and cafes with foreigner patrons. Found a few hostels off this main plaza too. Found some really hot churches. I even found a jazz club with old men and young boys playing chess outside of it on grey marble tables and chairs. The chess boards are part of the table tops. I watched some games. One was an extremely evenly matched scrimmage of grey haired men. In the end, one was victorious but it was anyone´s game for the longest.

DA WRAP UP
There isn´t a defined look for the people here. If there was I would say Latin American but the Asian, African influence is strong. Some of the Afro-Peruvians I had to hear NOT speak english before i was sure they weren´t American. Unfortunately my Spanish isn´t that tight but there English is.
It´s like Rome all over but it ain´t. It´s Peru.

forgot my adapter so there won´t be photos till later.

can´t wait til everyone else gets here ´tomorrow....

Q U O T A B L E
"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth."
-Marcus Aurelius

endings and beginnings 11.04.08

2008-11-04T05:21:00.000-08:00

It’s the night before the election and I am nervous. I have friends I can call, text, or email. I am remembering, drifting on memories and imagination living a moment of history today and tomorrow.
I knew most friends from knee high days of late 70’s to 80’s in Detroit from the neighborhood, school, athletic programs, parent’s friends, community organizations, church, social groups, and most of family. We stayed playing outside as soon as it was warm enough till it was too cold too moving from on foot to bicycle to Honda scooter to cars. And then we went to college all over but mainly in Michigan. I went dirty South to Morehouse College and made a slew of life long friends there around my age too. Now that was a ways back. With all these married and non-married friends’ and family come children, little cousins, nieces, and nephew round bout bicycle age on my life cycle. They got to see a black man running for president of the United States –real talk. Who really thought it would happen right now? I figured I would be in my twilight years on that one straight up.
My parents marched. I know they made sure we knew our black history. For Obama my mom volunteered and gave money. She never did that before. She did make sure we knew our black history. Remember when the African-American History museum was in trailers and we did the tour every year? We got our past but now our future looks ripe with possibilities especially the immediate present. But their parents, my grandparents, really went through it. My grandmother died a couple of years ago. She was 98. We are talking born round bout a century ago say 1908. Just a child when lynching and race riots were happening, what would become the FBI started, and the Ford Model T car hit the public. That car and that company had large hand in making Detroit. It’s having a major hand now in crippling it.
Right now The Ford Motor Company is a shaky as everyone else publicly traded. The stock market is down wallowing in a state of no confidence. The banks have stopped lending to other banks internationally. Citizens are losing jobs, can’t afford health care but there’s hope. There’s Obama but really there is you and I deciding we want better, working together along with everyone else to make that happen. We can do it. And those same kids on bicycles now will grow up seeing us do it too. That would make a lot of our ancestors’ proud right?
I miss my grandmother. I miss my father. I miss my friends from high school and the ones from college that have passed too. Miss them all. I’m not the only one who misses those who have passed either. Grieving loss and cherishing life is kind of how we humans do it. Obama’s going to have a bittersweet day tomorrow. Bitter because Obama misses his grandmother too. She passed in the last 24 hours. She almost saw history. Sweet because win or lose he is already history in the making. But it’s okay. Really. She’s got the scoop and she can tell my Aunt Inita who passed a few weeks ago. Aunt Inita is my grandmother’s sister. It was weird to watch her passing. People think dying is something that takes a few days to happen. No. When you die of old age you physically deteriorate over time. It’s a process I witnessed with my grandmother. I saw her sister going through it after her and the whole scene felt like déjà vu. But Aunt Inita had the hot gossip for grandma.
There’s a black man running for president and he could really win!
And I wonder what grandma has to say about that? Its how it goes down when history is the present you are living anything is possible.
Anything.
As my man Keith Murphy said on Our World with Black Enterprise, “Color changes everything.”

Saturday 10.18.08

2008-10-22T04:45:00.000-07:00

Five days you work
One whole day to play
Come on everybody, wear your rollerskates today
It's Saturday, Saturday
Saturday, it's Saturday
Saturday, it's Saturday
Saturday, it's Saturday-ay
-lyrics sung by Vinia Mohica on A Roller Skating Jam named Saturday Remix by De La Soul

Keeping it moving on the twenty-four hours known as Saturday I have to shout out three of my peoples for reaching out and keeping me in the loop. The loop is a good place to be especially when you are working on a staycation but that was really Sunday. This is about the sixth day of the third week of October 2008.
Saturday’s movement started with an easy conversation on some ol’ ‘what you doing today’ type deal. My home girl was talking about heading over to Clinton Hills Brooklyn(BK) for this art festival. Since we both live in BK and like staying in BK on weekends it was an easy movement. Word on the street the exhibition was supposed to be over on October 12th but it got held over for another weekend. A quick online search and it was discovered with the title “Brooklyn as a State of Mind” part of the Clinton Hill Art Festival (u should keyword search engine that).
Friend, “Are you down to go?”
Me, “Hell yeah I am.”
And we went.
There was a time check though because the hours listed it being noon to six pm and it was like one pm when the conversation was had. It was like five pm when we got there and started knocking on the wrong door. We found the right door to be 95 Lexington and then stood outside for a second figuring out which number to press to get in. Fortunately one of the artists was there holding down the space for guests like ourselves. We entered and, well, I hope you do too.
Basically it is a fifty-artist show on two floors and a whole lot of space. I didn’t love or like all the works but I had a definite affinity too most of it. Dude said it was up till the end of the month. I already said the address, the cross streets are Classon and Franklin.
Time check it was six o’clock now and ol’ girl was talking about a pumpkin painting set in Manhattan. My man Mike had hit me earlier that day and I called him back. He started talking about an art exhibition in Manhattan too. So the Brooklyn stroll turned into a subway roll and street level parting at Union Square.
The Art exhibition was on 20th street and I already had a My Condo turns One party to hit so it would all be in stride. I headed for the gallery and whew it was packed! First artist, Doze, had two of three display spaces on lock with about eleven pieces of two different series. I had to wade through the crowd to get a good look at any piece first. I started on the far right then moved on to the middle. Before I could get a good look some cat came around the corner wall to my left crouching low with a black bandana round his nose and mouth, a black cap, wearing a black shirt, jacket, pants, shoes and backpack. I turned quick like “WTF!” The bandana-ed man and I locked eyes, paused in a classic western showdown stance then went our separate ways.
Wait, was dude holding a camera?
Okay, that was real familiar and I couldn’t figure out from where until I rounded the corner and saw the work in the last gallery space…BANSKY! That must have been the English graffiti bombing artist himself creeping through the set with his camera. If you really want to see his work, peep Soho or hit a bookstore for his book Wall & Piece to see his international bombing just go to his site http://www.banksy.co.uk.
Didn’t stay long cause I bounced to a “My Condo turns One” party in Jersey City. That was a lot of fun including an interesting game of “name that tune” but it wasn’t tunes, it was actions and dramatizations like for a dirty sanchez. LOL!
Shout outs to Ivana, Mike, and Talima for making Saturday a blast. Hope everyone else spent some time having fun too.

Q U O T A B L E
"When you have confidence, you can have a lot of fun. And when you have fun, you can do amazing things."
-Unknown

We the People

2008-10-12T07:10:00.000-07:00

HEADLINES!!!!
war overseas,
man mugged on the train,
kid stabbed for his chain,
man its simple and plain,
What we gon’ do?
-Wordsworth, “What we gon’ do?” Mirror Music
This last Presidential debate left me colder than a polar bear’s foot. I wasn’t sure if it was because I expected too much or they gave to little ‘cause all I heard was what I been hearing from both party candidates on their campaigns so far. Granted Obama did a good job of relating what he would do versus what McCain would on health care, taxes, and the war and McCain did not do a good job of saying that Obama’s take on his tax or health agenda was dead wrong so I guess it was really dead on.
Scary.
As for the war let’s just call it what it is, an invasion in two countries that left the USA with an overextended military so that anyone else (Russia, Vietnam and any other enemy of state) can do what they want from nuclear empowerment to bullying former territories (Georgia). Winning the war? Come on, we already lost and are losing every day we stay in it.
Messed up.
Compound that with banks failing cause their CEO’s made money off the little guy and now these same banks are overextended and leery of lending money to each other. Capitalism means Big Bank take Little Bank and soon there will only be like three banks left. Sucks for us, I say go support credit unions and get you a safety deposit box.
Save yours.
Unemployment haunts us too and those who are hustling to make ends meet find there are less hustles and the ends ain’t meeting. Oil prices are still up. Wall street is still down. Food lines are coming! Everyone in the middle is suffering from those with loved ones away at war to those at work at home or those just plain old at home with no work or recently laid off. Damn. Looks messed up here but wait, will it get worse or is rock bottom yet to come?
Grim.
Imma go with yet to come and while we arguing over who’s going to be the next president, can we argue about what we gon’ do regardless of who is president? We still got all the things that were wrong eight years ago when Bush took office on top of everything that’s wrong now.
Problems.
How about we up and start taking care of ourselves en masse. Some sort of pooling or juggling of resources that makes out better for all. Oh wait. That’s part Obama’s tax plan ain’t it – taxing more of those who got more than taxing more of those who have the least? Sheesh, he ain’t perfect, he ain’t got all the answers –neither of them do - but at least he is willing to try and on top of all that, some folks still ain’t gon’ vote for him cause he’s black when they know McCain ain’t the right man for the job. Do I even have to speak on why Palin ain’t the right woman?
It is not up to just one person.
What Wordsworth said at the beginning I reiterate at the end…what we gon’ do? Start helping ourselves is what.
It is up to we cause WE THE PEOPLE!

Q U O T A B L E
"Nothing splendid has ever been achieved except by those who dared believe that something inside of them was superior to circumstances"
-Bruce Barton

Lupe Fiasco feat. Nikki Jean - Hip-Hop Saved My Life

2008-08-25T13:53:00.001-07:00

hip hop done did it again...

2008-08-25T13:49:00.000-07:00

The new issue of nat creole.com is out. Peep the Emory Douglas Q & A by yours truly.
http://www.natcreole.com/lit.htm
Aight that was the business part let’s start the, er, show.

Hip-hop saved a million lives so far and it has a billion to go. How
Hip-hop saves lives is up to us-the patrons. Because for some reason or other, folks think that if you want to make it in this business then you have to get on television or radio.
No.
You don’t even have to be an artist in the emcee sense. Hip-hop is about self-expression. I love hip-hop but don’t listen to a whole lot of rap-anymore.
I love hip-hop but don’t watch a lot of music videos.
I love hip-hop and rarely ever listen to urban radio.
I love hip-hop and still seem to find hip-hop music I like and buy it.
Wait.
How the hell does that happen?
Well, if you are dope, you just are and everyone can recognize it. If you got the goods and get the blog, facebook, or myspace, then someone’s going to post, google, or holla at you. But if you think you can do none of the above then you are simply fantasizing about success.
Don’t fantasize, dream.
Don’t imagine you can’t,
imagine you can.
And that goes for every, and any, field of study or craft. Hip-hop is not just the music! It is going for yours 110%! I am no emcee, producer, dancer (well maybe), graffiti artist (um…), or deejay (er…) but I write. That’s my expression. I mean damn, when did folks stop dreaming? When did life become something without a purpose? I mean for real y’all it ain’t where you are but where you want to be. Hand to hand on the block don’t mean a whole lot. How much money are you really making? How long does it take you to make it? How are you moving towards self-sufficiency? How long do you really plan on living like that? How long do you plan on living and for what reason are you living? If you ask yourself those same questions- regardless of what job you are holding- you will discover that either you hustling forwards or backwards. You find that when you have a purpose that things fall into place or at least you begin to see where the holes are and begin to figure out how to fill them.
Thank God for Lupe Fiasco and a million other emcees, producers, artists, dancers, deejays, comedians, teachers, engineers, promoters, sound men/women, A & R’s, independent labels, managers, architects, stylists, visual artists, interior designers, graphic designers, clothing designers, writers, photographers, venue owners, and journalists that said, “I got something to say and I know I’m dope so imma do me,” and did not stop just because it took time and was hard.
What thing worth doing is ever easy and quick? What about you is keeping you from figuring out what it is you really want to do?
RIP Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes cause them brothers figured out what they wanted to do and DID IT.
Hip-hop may not be your thing but find whatever thing is yours and make it happen.
Now it is video time.

Q U O T A B L E
"The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live right inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof"
-Unknown

Elzhi - That's That One

2008-07-09T05:09:00.001-07:00

If you never risked it all...

2008-07-09T05:02:00.000-07:00

Always it is when conferences are attended like the Black Writer’s Conference at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn or the New Yorker Magazine’s Conference Stories from the Near Future in Manhattan that individuals who are curious and empowered come together. These individuals may not all agree 100% with each other. They may not have the same background or more often embrace the entire diversity of their backgrounds but share many traits that allow them to see and be kindred strangers hearing the same siren’s call.
Next it is the speakers’ time to come together and present their knowledge to these gathered individuals. The speakers have done something with their passion and grown to authority on them. While the Medgar Evers Black Writer’s Conference (BWC) founded by Dr. Brenda Greene brought Susan L. Taylor, Taylor’s presented her post Essence Magazine mission of mentorship charging her peers to give up their jewels of knowledge so those of my generation and younger can find planting soil and grow as did Gavin Newsom the young vibrant Mayor from San Francisco at the New Yorker Stories from the Near Future Conference (SFTNF). Mayor Newsom raved about the “green” environmental advances his city made from their waste disposals to their elimination of plastic bottles to recycling emphasizing the “you can do this too” ness of it all.
Even in this connectedness something was glaringly apparent that many might have missed. It connected both conferences in their respective objectives and the populations served. The questions were “what is going on?” and “where is this going?” The “what” and the where” of “this” may range from robotics to the role of labor unions globally as in the SFTNF conference or the all male panel discussion on Black manhood representations in literature at the BWC. Both crowds’ questions were answered. The BWC panelists like Cornel West and his commentaries on Obama’s first rebuttal speech regarding the Reverend Jeremiah Wright sermon snippets or Malcolm Gladwell’s STFTNF keynote address illustrating his next book on the miss matches that occur between hiring practices and their accuracy to determine who will do well in what position definitely provided food for thought.
At the BWC, West said that Obama is someone running for the presidency of the United States so his speech would be of one appealing to the various ethnic groups of America. Many feared and blacks hoped he would be the next black leader. No. Obama is running for President of the United States and as charismatic as he is, he is running a campaign of an idea and let’s face it people, no individual can beat an idea not Hillary Clinton and hopefully not MCcain. Martin Luther King Jr. was the last black American I knew of who did that.
At the SFTNF conference Gladwell noted great examples of how miss matches occur in the criteria for employment and the ability to excel in that employment like professional sports and the tests that athletes go through regarding skill sets. Those trials mean nothing towards who is the best at say quarterbacking.
Between both conversations there is a connecting link that could not or has not been measured yet, a thing that every speaker in both conferences exhibited to their success. It certainly plays a part in the miss match Gladwell discussed. The missing link is really something simple: the ability to take risks and fail if necessary to succeed. Who that was successful has not taken risks? In my own life I gambled on my passion. I was in Atlanta big fishing in a little pond with writing and I opted up to The Big Sea (see Langston Hughes) with rolling out urbanstyle weekly. Launching a paper in any market ain’t no joke and I did it in NYC having never lived here or having a whole army wit me. True a crew was formed but the only full time employee here was yours truly. Those who were in the crew know who they are. We still kick it. We still talk. We all do different things now and we all are still swimming and have seen other big fish swimming too.
That’s whassup.
Now I just want to see More Fish (see Ghostface Killah) come in cause the water’s fine, choppy, but still fine. And whatever your chosen field you have to get in that water. You can’t see the bottom. The waves are high and rough. Will you make it if you jump in? Can you take the risk? If it’s risk you fear, then you fear success. How about this: fear is an indicator of its importance to you. Does it sound better now? Take the leap. If you fall, the ground ain’t too far below that it will hurt much plus the water is deep and treading is easy. If you fly high then you knew it was in you all along. If you get somewhere in the middle well, hey, the mountains and a high rise ain’t bad neither. There will be obstacles. You just have to be ready to fight for what you want tho.

Now play the elzhi cut above if ya’ like hip-hop and read this again cause life’s a gamble and you better play to win so stop tripping and be what you know you can be- great.

*This message was inspired by the mural kings.

Q U O T E
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
-Mark Twain

last night a deejay saved my life...

2008-06-07T07:51:00.000-07:00

When the deejay selects a record from the crate, rests it on the rotating turntable plate, puts a needle to it, listens, adjusts the pitch and brings it back and forth until plate one and plate two are in synch then brings plate one up in the loud speaker along with plate two that is already rocking with the volume up to twelve well, magic happens. Real talk that magic happens all over the space the sound fills between the people in the room or earshot or low impedance vibration wave. But that magic is never easy for the layman that has never tried to put it together. Most folks just want to parlay and dance but don’t think about how the magic happens. The deejay is the conjurer and the deejay’s magic is the example in this jam because nobody becomes a deejay because they have to, people become deejays because they want to.
I recall a deejay moment in my life freshman year at Morehouse. My man Webster from NY had some tables and records in his dorm room in Thurman Hall. He let it be known that there was going to be an absentee resident assistant and the residents were going to have a party on the fourth floor. He knew I was doing a lil spinning in my boys’ room in my dorm Dubois next door so there was a bit of a hint of a chance to spin this set.
I get to the floor and cats were taking shots from chemistry vials, girls were dancing, the main floor lights were off but some room lights were on throwing strobe light like glows. Body’s swaying, couples negotiating what was to occur for the rest of their nights, laughter, smiles, and yeah, everything you want from a black college after hours set. I was excited and nervous. I didn’t think I would spin but I had the suspicion something was going to happen. About halfway down the hall I stepped in Web’s room, saw the set up, thumbed the records in the crates and then was given a chance to rock.
That became or really just felt like a two hour set of straight cutting and dropping singles mostly hip-hop because that’s what Web had. De La Soul, Eric B & Rakim, Wu-Tang Clan, Public Enemy, Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock and A Tribe Called Quest were in heavy rotation and it was hot, the crowd danced and a good time was had by all. I got off the turntables sweating while Web gave me a pound and nod like “that’s whassup”.
True. Cause it was.
Passion.
That magic produced by the deejay translates across the board. No one just wants to deejay but has a passion or drive for it. Something about deejaying just scratches an itch that was never known or puts everything in perspective. Come on, who else but some one who loves it would invest in turntables, mix boards, speakers, records, and then log all that time to practice and learn the skill. But seriously, anyone successful does that for what ever it is they want to be successful at. The only part I see lacking in most people is something to be passionate about. I am not saying that your job is your passion or should be. No. I am saying that you need a passion in your life so you can grow to be the best person you can be through it. I write. That’s my passion. Sometimes it earns me a check. Sometimes it brings me experiences with individuals I would never meet otherwise. Other times it takes me to another continent. 100% of the time it allows me to grow.
I just want you to grow with me, passion or not. But find a passion and grow yourself in it so we can grow together. I’ll make it easy and say it does not have to be deejaying or writing. It would actually be better if it was something I know nothing about so I can learn from you and you can learn from me.
Does that sound good to you ? Cool let’s fist pound on it like Barack and Michelle Obama because this is only the beginning.
Q U O T E
"Most people have no idea of the giant capacity we can immediately command when we focus all of our resources on mastering a single area of our lives."
-Anthony Robbins

Slang paints to Dilla (Reckless Painting)

2008-04-07T13:34:00.001-07:00

everything is fair

2008-04-07T13:10:00.001-07:00

It is amazing what the human mind and spirit can do when bolstered by persistence and passion.

My man Slang (www.slangism.com) illustrated that. Actually he sparked the thought in me anew through his live painting of the late great hip-hop emcee producer James “J Dilla” Yancey’s portrait at the Dilla Donuts Forever show in Brooklyn, New York early 2008.

Born in Chicago (The Chi) Slang earned a reputation as a dope graffiti artist bombing trains. He bombed so many so well so early in the game well, they don’t call him legend for nothing. His art could have progressed no further but Slang expanded not just his art but his hustle from retail store owner to story boarder to animator. The work and cash flow changed him from amateur to professional but it was not overnight. Some might say he was on the hip-hop “imma take mine” tip.

I would say he knew what fit him best and ran wit it.

Doing that ain’t ever easy or quick. Anyone who has gone for what feels right will tell you that. But while you peep his video remember this man was self taught. True he studied different styles and artists but it was not according to a syllabus. Always remember some artists have the talent, passion and persistence to ascend from novice to master independent of predetermined curricula. True the quality standard is the standard but how long it takes you to get there- if you ever get there- is up to you. If you can produce on the money making pay your bills type and your play time level then you function on at least a bachelor’s level and master’s degree dividends are only two years more of intensive study and critique away. It is definitely hard to find others who can teach you but you get a crew-I mean build a team of advisors who act as your cabinet. It is humbling but you have too. Soon your projects progress to from objective to result how you want them too. You repeat that process mastering a style over hundreds of trials. Presently your initial drafts in that technique show how advanced you are in it. You have eliminated beginner’s mistakes already. Put that on anything people have a passion for because it has always being this way. While in Amsterdam in March I toured a museum dedicated to a single master artist who did not start painting until he was twenty-seven.

Leave a comment if you know which artist I am talking about.

Okay few individuals are good enough to excel in any genre. J Dilla, the subject of Slang’s portrait, was one of them. He embodied all the elements of ascension but he shined too bright and worked too hard. He maybe had too much drive. Unfortunately we lost him prematurely but the wealth of work he produced put him on a level few attained at thrice his age. Dilla was alone in a place beyond his contemporary artists in hip-hop in terms of production work. True there have been flattering imitations but nothing close. Dilla encompassed a mood, a quiet calm in the eye of the storm of a snare, kick drum and bass, and wrapped it tightly around you. Then he did it again and again and…

When I saw the raw footage of Slang creating the Dilla portrait, I felt and witnessed that attention to craft. True there are going to be mistakes but you work over and through them to improve the piece and when you are done there will be no more brush strokes other than your signature. Self taught like Dilla, Slang has the three elements not for beats but for painting. There are others who have it as well. Some of them have it for teaching or social work or cooking or landscaping or horticulture or freedom or oppression or sports or mathematics or graphic design or travel or science or debate or politics or filmmaking or photography or listening or medicine or reading or writing or wanting to be president of the United States.

What do you have it for because none of us are here to be average?

Q U O T A B L E

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."
-A. A. Milne

2008-03-08T04:41:00.001-08:00

Have you ever seen an elephant fly?

Okay. I had a moment the other day going to work. I take the 3 subway train and transfer to the 4 or 5 train at Franklin in Brooklyn. Usually it is pretty full with other rush hour morning commuters. I rarely catch a seat too. Usually the seats are taken up by women of various ages, mostly African-American, Caribbean, Asian, Caucasian, Jewish, or Hispanic. The men are of the same ethnic make up and as each stop brings us closer to Manhattan, the more crowded the subway car becomes until it is standing room only.

That’s the setting. So this tall brother gets on the train wearing a hooded sweatshirt, bubble vest, jeans and shoes furiously typing into his t-dash PDA. I would not have thought much of it if it weren’t for his Obama ’08 button on his vest. Okay. The brother is all for Obama. That’s whassup. Next up a Caucasian guy steps on the train, overcoat, suit, shirt and tie, graying hair glasses-wall street type. He steps in and is next to the Brother in the Hoody. The Wall Street type strikes up a conversation with the Brother in a Hoody.
“You know he’s going to win.” Wall Street starts.
“Oh yeah. Been for him the entire way.” Brother in Hoody replies. “ I really like his positions on …”

And they proceeded to have a conversation agreeing with each other the entire time.
This is unprecedented like Obama winning eleven states in a row. These two gentlemen represent the people of this country: tired, hard working and in need of change. But they live in separate world per se in this country. Where would they find a common ground to speak? Well, before Obama they may never have but through Obama they can begin to build the bridge of unity that can unite this country and fulfill the dream of Martin Luther King Jr. and others including the writers of the Constitution.

That’s right. Constitution. While I have seen the debates and hears the words from Obama himself regarding his platform I decided to pick up his book and read just what he wants to do and where he stands in his own words as well. Most folks think I am reading Dreams of my Father. No. I am talking about Audacity of Hope.

Audacity of Hope is a great book. In it, Obama does a few different things. First he enlightens one to his role in the Senate, the function of the Senate and the way it was designed to work as the founders of this country designed it. In broader terms, he explains the three branches of government’s interaction with each other. If you haven’t thought about it or forgot it from your U.S. Government or history course in high school here’s a good refresher. Second, Obama let’s you know where he stands on various issues and why. That’s what everyone is looking to read about. Third, Obama tells why we the people need to really embrace being “we the people” speaking up and making this country be the dream it is supposed to be.

But still, who ever thought a brother would be the one to do it? I’ve always said that African-Americans were the change this country needed. Our parents and grandparents were the change for civil rights but how this generation would change things well, that was always up in the air.

Until now.

If Obama can unite the various citizens that make up this country, then what does that mean I can do for my community my people right now? Can I be the vessel of hope? Can we be that change we all know is needed?

I think we can. I hope we can. I know I will.

Q U O A T B L E
"I would much rather have regrets about not doing what people said, than regretting not doing what my heart led me to and wondering what life had been like if I'd just been myself."
-Brittany Renée

Shout to DJ Kut and Ash Cash for the daily word.

PS who can tell me where the quote about the elephant flying came from? I am sure you have seen it or heard it somewhere before.

A Tin Roof Introduction

2008-02-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

whassup world?

How is everybody doing?

Glad you made it to the beginning. yeah I did it today because today is my birthday and since I always like to reflect a little I figured I would write a litte for you and yours. Be sure to tune in when I do because I always have somethign to say or did something that you might want to do or at least read about to be filed under "for future reference". Its going to be bust weekend and soon a nice trip to the Netherlands.

Stay tuned for more.

this just in:

Nat Creole Issue 18 is out now!

Be sure to check out all the sections http://www.natcreole.com

but if you just want to see my work well:

my booklist Fresh Sliced Fruit is in every issue http://natcreole.com/lit.htm#title1

and a special recipe of women of color writers, the short list http://www.natcreole.com/lit.shortlist18.htm

but wait, I'm handling all the business first.

Let's get to the first kept secret: A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof's Gyspy run.

It was cold, windy and snowing and Times Square is difficult enought to manuever when it is warm. The jagged movements of city dwellas and tourists makes for crooked lines for those trying to get where they are a going around those who were wandering in their destination. The plan was to get there early being that this run was the last dress rehearsal for the cast as well as the first performance with a hopefully full house. The show started at seven pm that Sunday evening and we were shooting for a six pm arrival. Early arrivals get the best seats because it was first come first served. There was already a few heads there already.

We stepped into the lobby out of the windy snowy cold. wow. There was only a few of us, maybe twenty. My boy Molaundo was supposed to have beat me there. Damn, nowhere in sight. I looked out the doors and there was a crowd growing outside the interior ticket area. Notably this colored crowd was anxious, calm but definitely positively excited.

I knew I was.

Most of us there were seasoned theatre goers. I had seen a few in my New York time- Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, A Raisin in the Sun, Top Dog, Under Dog, Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf, and Man of La Mancha (shout to my boy Rick Polk: ya gotta come back up to the NY man!) and others but these theatre goers might have seen Ma Rainey's original cast for real so I knew this showing was chock full of who's who that probably don't make most of the photo ops on most of the social sites and pubs targeting my peers.

Still.

Mo' made it. My man Philip Harvey (nat creole.com) was already inside. Spelman Alum and nat creole business developer Alia Jones was busy moving as theatre producers move, this was her production. An all colored cast of A Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Terrence Howard's in his Broadway debut as Brick with his wife Maggie played by Anika Noni Rose, James Earl Jones as Big Daddy, Phylicia Rashad as Big Mama, Giancarlo Esposito as Gooper and Gooper's wife played by Lisa Arrindell-Anderson. The story is simple: one man, Brick, and a multilayered struggle of his, his wife's, his father, his mother, and his brother. All their issues come to a head in one day: Big Daddy's birthday.

Yeah.

Two hours, forty-five minutes and two fifteen minute intermissions later everybody was on their feet clapping for the cast because for real, they did it. Anika Noni Rose was amazing. I think she had the crowd capitvated. I know she had me. she is my new celebrity crush for real. Of course Phylicia Rashad held Big Mama down as only she could. Not Mrs. Huxatble playing Big Mama but Phylicia Rashad playing Big Mama. James Earl Jones was, well damn it's James Earl Jones! He was sick and playing the father opposite Terrence Howard as the son...come on. I just want to see that on film because they each held their own and made each scene and every conversation between them as heated and emotional as it should have been. They were dynamic.

For real for real, it was hot and I really worked hard not to tell you everything. I really, really did.
Just go see this play and leave me a comment aight?

also, can a brotha get a birthday shout?

now it's quotable time

Q U O T A B L E

"All personal breakthroughs begin with a change in beliefs. So how do we change? The most effective way is to get your brain to associate massive pain to the old belief. You must feel deep in your gut that not only has this belief cost you pain in the past, but it's costing you in the present and, ultimately, can only bring you pain in the future. Then you must associate tremendous pleasure to the idea of adopting a new, empowering belief."
-Anthony Robbins

Personally, I read this and immediately recognized how I had not applied it to myself. Granted I always try to be sure to self assess and grow and change and adapt but in a singular respect, I had not associated massive pain to an old beleif even though in this particular instant it was causing me pain in the past, present and future.It was a grudge. Mimi knows exaclty what I am talking about. She brought it up and said, "damn you are still sore over that." well, that may not be her exact quote but it kinda covers it. Yeah. I was still sore but not any more. That soreness was not allowing me to accept, learn, and grow in a particular aspect . I felt I was right. I felt I was justified in my grudge but ya know what? I was missing the larger picture due to all that heat I was generating. And that I have to forgive myself for. That I have to make amends for so my future can be as bright as I envision it to be. I really hate holding myself back and that particular grudge was really doing it.

I only said all of that because in making peace with myself over a particular incidence, I opened myself up for greater gifts as a better person.

but grudges don't help anyone especially the the grudger holding 'em.

Brook