blackgirl on mars: notes on a life in copenhagen (or how my alienation brings me closer to people).

Where I’m from, garbage sits on the curb for days and the sour mingles with the fresh of the trees to produce that distinctive pissy NYC smell. Graffiti protests whatever order the military boot of city politics attempts to establish, and nations are united by streets with names like Houston, Broadway, and Flatbush. People lose their lives over stupid shit like parking places and cops kill you because you’re black. Blocks terrorized by poverty are patched lovingly together by middle class, mostly Black folk, who are happy that there is some property that can be had. This in turn makes it safe for college students, which is the universal sign to wealthy Europeans that the coast is clear. Forte Greene, Bed Stuy, Williamsburg, Red Hook--the pattern is endless and although the sight of a white person up in Harlem is enough for you to shake your head and say, “There goes the neighborhood,” meaning ostensibly, that “M"#¤!f&cker, go back downtown, cuz you about to raise my r...

There ain’t no place To get your hair done If you a Black girl in Copenhagen . There ain’t no real Place to buy make up too… They ain’t no hues as Amber, chestnut or butterscotch. (White girls don’t need that shit). There ain’t no place To buy collards, Yams, breadfruit Grits. They ain’t no Magazines That celebrate us They ain’t no news To uplift us The only thing we Got is a broken Mirror Whose image We can not Believe in. All you really need tho’ Is a little shampoo Conditioner, burnt brown powder And carnelian colored lipstick. (Oh, and don’t forget the sign That says, No, I am not A prostitute.) If it glitters it gold baby And if you think it hard to get your hair done, Then try finding a brother! But girl, for real tho’ all you really need, In your refrigerator Is a bag of weed, , A bottle of champagne, That cooling eye thing And some nail polish— And you gotta At least have o...

blackgirl on mars... @ DesArts aften. Fredag 27 april 2007. Kl. 20.00 – 02.00 Gallopperiet Christiania (Lige overfor Spiseloppen)

This morning I received an email from KG & she sent me a review about Maryse Conde's latest book. Maryse Conde! I had forgotten about this fabulous writer and in the end, had forgotten about this part of me. So much about being in Denmark is about Memory, my remembering who I am. Realizeing how much I have allowed myself to be dis-membered.

Oh my! Oh Me! My life is not as it's supposed to be... My job is so drab & I'm like, totally unfab see-- the guyz, they don't really look at me (you think it has something to do with the fact that I'm flat chested & not big-breasted?) My life is so low there's really just one place to go SO... I'm gonna get my boobs done baby & when I do I'ma drive all ya'll crazy! I'ma get my boobs done & when I do I'll be so damn beautiful even more beautiful than u.... See when the guyz when the guyz they talk to me they'll finally see breasts attached to me! I'll get the job of my dreams The husband of my dreams the house of my dreams the children of my dreams OOOOOOh! Everything will just be so perfect just like the pages of a magazine! My life'll get rosier I'll be so damn divine All the brothers'll be Damn! She so #"/! fine! After I get my boobs done My life'll improve there'll be everything to gain & no...

And I've remembered myself again...yeah, think about it, cuz all this time I been feeling dismembered--forgot who I was for a moment. It's not about revolution, but evolution. Today Ben, Kai and I burned my dreadlocks. For real. I cut them off over a year ago, felt like I wasn't that person no more. But I didn't want to just throw them out. Didn't feel right. So I kept it all this time, forgot I had them. Then Benjamin found it and so, the rest is her story. I'm not that girl anymore. I would love to lock my hair again though, but this time I want to do it consciously, with knowledge and with no toxins, mental and otherwise. I wrote a few poems this weekend and I'm gonna be finishing that album soon...real soon. Here's to Peace within and without, Lesley-Ann

From a journal in 2005: "I just got it. The writing isn't about me. I'm just a channel to get the stories told. I must allow myself to submit to that, and not get in the way of the flow. I must humble myself to that power."

for G. RIP Tasha sits on the edge of the bed and remembers the pregnancies, the haagan daz ice-cream she craved and the menthol cigarettes she smoked. She had met the boy who was to be Jasmin’s father on the corner of Ocean and Farraget. A few of the girls from the home—Imani, Shanon and Nikki had decided to sneak out. They were 15, and had already given birth to their first babies. None of them could keep them. Like their mothers, the babies were given up to someone else to care for. They all dealt with it differently—some, like Imani was all hard about it and acted like it didn’t matter. But her front didn’t fool anybody. You could see the pain whenever she came upon a little baby. You could always see it in her eyes as she fussed all over it—the desperate longing in her eyes that overwhelmed all in her midst and would prompt her friends to move her awkwardly along. Then there was Nikki. Nikki had thick beautiful lips and walked around with her thumb in her m...

What is our problem anyway? It ain't like we don't have brothers like Gil leading the way-- I mean, what is our problem anyway? Like we don't have sisters Like Angela still having her say. It ain't like we don't have no leaders And thankfully, they don't wear no diamonds, drive hummers act like pimps or dress like prostitutes. So, what is our problem anyway? It ain't like freedom gonna come round another day. Yet still we cower under the news with clips of their suffering hanging like that noose pulling tighter and tighter round our heart-- got us really believin we got a fair start cuz you know if you don't watch out, that just might be you they talking about and so what if they brown like you black like you so what if they look like you? Well, that's just a coincidence now, isn't it?

Just read about a film that I wanna promote! Check out the review http://www.timeout.com/film/83765.html http://www.seeingblack.com/article_159.shtml The good news is...we are at a time where films like this are finally being counted! Peace, Lesley-Ann

to all the wondeful people in my life who actually read my stuff. i feel really lucky about that! just finished the loss of el dorado by v.s. naipaul...interesting stuff. it's funny reading a history where i can not directly place myself. the thing about naipaul is that he does not romanticize anything except the intelligence of the british. hmmm. anyway, moving on. i still like him though. i mean, thank goodness i was born in a time where i could appreciate his work...even when, interestingly enough, people like us (him and me) are not even footnoted in these accounts. but he too sees that, and i can detect in naipaul a wanting to present things within the paradigm he had been educated, while at the same time serving it a bit cold, just for the hell of it. he is, after all, a writer without borders. the universality of the written word. whatever happened to that? is there such a thing? i think so. i really got that when i read lennox's book. it was the first time i read some...

it's easter break and i had all these grand ideas of getting a lot of work done on my novel. well, i have gotten some work done, but of course it does not gel with my expectations which makes me feel i need to chuck the expectation cuz if i'm ever to get anywhere with this project, completely overwhelming myself is not going to help! but, the good news is, the project is moving along & i am thankful for that. this is something i started so many years ago, but just could not figure out & now, it seems as if it is moving, finally. i am trying to work on it every day, otherwise, i feel lousy! no kidding. i feel so guilty (another unhealthy feeling, I know, but i figure i can combat it by doing what i really want to do, which is write!) and i am also allowing myself to enjoy my son!! yesterday when i was in the kitchen preparing dinner i just thought, i am a mother! and i almost buckled at the knees! i mean, i am the person responsible for preparing kai for this thing cal...