Posted on April 30, 2018 Leave a Comment
This technicolor dream post is brought to you by the marvels in and around La Ciudad de México and by sunflowers. I’ve grown a love of sunflowers. In recent years, they seem to cross my line of vision everywhere, and when they don’t, I often find myself seeking images. I like how, when seen up close, their […]
Posted on July 19, 2017 2 Comments
Yo vengo de todas partes, Y hacia todas partes voy: Arte soy entre las artes, En los montes, monte soy.* –“Versos Sencillos” (José Martí) I. Landing […]
Posted on April 30, 2017 6 Comments
“I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it…My soul has grown deep like the rivers.” — Langston Hughes This promises to be a long post. I’ve tried hard to condense it, but this experience is resistant to brevity. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t attempt to encapsulate a trip of this length or magnitude in […]
Posted on July 10, 2016 2 Comments
Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart has one of the most powerful endings in literature. In this novel which chronicles the dramatic rise and ultimate downfall of Okonkwo, a black Ibo clansman, the story is literally and figuratively taken over in its final chapter by the District Commissioner, an unnamed, incredibly minor white character, who […]
Posted on July 5, 2016 6 Comments
I’m writing this post perched on a canopied four-poster bed that rises so far off the floor that, at 5’4″ tall, I either need a running start and a leap, or a chair to climb into it; Ive opted for the chair. The yards of thick mosquito netting that normally drape down from the […]
Posted on July 2, 2016 2 Comments
This will likely not be my last post about art and artistry in Haiti. Art, of both the high and low varieties abounds, and surrounds you even along the dusty, ruined streets that must have once had sidewalks. Artists display their originals, or original copies, on everything from clothes lines to fences. The ubiquitous “Loto” […]
Posted on July 1, 2016 Leave a Comment
We spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday, our first two days, reuniting with friends and family who had either never left Haiti, or who had chosen to return out of love, for work, or both. Among the former group, were my aunt, and three of my mother’s cousins, the aforementioned pressers of uniform pleats, […]
