Pass the torch & pass the flame/the whole game hang [...]
A baby is being born/the same time a man [...]
Last night, after my last excruciating 10 hour workday at the hotel, I changed from my cashmere suit into a pair of black shorts, a black & white polo, and a pair of low top CR's to match. I removed all things corporate, let the character wall I build as a hotel manager crumble to dust. The 6:41pm LIRR train pulls up, and I board with a few exclusive SoSoon tracks in my earbuds, messenger bag in tow. On the train, I unzip, and read a few more pages from the editing copy of Howard Treadwell's Dreams of Loisaida. I curse audibly because as I notice that I left the digital camera at home. No pictures with Ms. jessica Care moore. Now I will have to make a point of catching up with her again before she leaves for Detroit, or head out to Motown.
[repost from July 4, 2008]
Good afternoon b-boys and b-girls.
On this day, every year, two trains of thought depart from my cerebral platform. These twin locomotives parallel the concept of the Double Consciousness of Black Americans introduced to the world by W.E.B. Du Bois, and head in opposite directions. One is of the tradition of Thomas Jefferson, the eloquent, somewhat hypocritical (slave owner), and allegedly racially mixed Third President of the United States.
The Soundbites Poetry Festival is on the Horizon. My crew and I rehearse regularly. I barely made it through the last rehearsal. That night, one day after my cousin's birthday, I remembered something. That memory inspired me to bring myself to the precipice of emotional fracture before stepping on stage or practicing. I go harder. It makes me a better performer. It took some recent pain for me to remember the initial need for me to perform in the first place, and how all of my demons point back to the moment that allowed them to emerge.
Aliyah, thanks for the conversation that allowed me to do this. It is time that people knew the truth about who I am, why I do what I do, and what my company represents.