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

I wish I could take credit for this--but alas! Someone else beat me to it! Dear Friends, As we move closer to the end of another year I wanted > > to thank you for all the e-mails you have forwarded to me over the past > > year. I must send a big thank you to whoever sent me the one about rat > > shit in the glue on envelopes, because I now have to use a wet sponge > > with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, I now have to wipe the > > top of every can I open for the same reason. I no longer have any > > savings because I gave it all to a sick girl who is about to die in the > > hospital for the 1,387,258th time. But that will change once I receive > > the $15,000 that Bill Gates and Microsoft are sending me for > > participating in their special email programs. Or from the senior bank > > clerk in Nigeria who wants me to split seven million dollars with me > > for pretending to be a long lost relative of a custom...

"To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget." - Arundhati Roy

Last night I hung out with my buddy SH. I met SH years ago, at the job I will returning to on Monday, after 5 years of absence. We took a walk to Christiania, the "free state". Years ago, it was an orderly alternative to the world of Danish designer lamps and luxurious kitchen renovations. The main street in Christiania was lined with booths where marijuana and hash was sold openly under banners that said, Say No to Hard Drugs! It attracted tourists and natives hungry for vegetarian meals and a respite from the hustle and bustle of city life. Patches of grass offered itself along ponds where houses were constructed on land repossessed from the government for the people. Because marijuana and hash was not criminalized, there was a peaceful mood about it and Christiania burned hearthlike amidst the norm. The eclectic mix of passersby attested to its appeal which went beyond your average potheads. Unfortunately, there's been a lot going down. Many, seeing prime real-estate, ...

"But I still believe that the unexamined life is not worth living: and I know that self-delusion, in the service of no matter what small or lofty cause, is a price no writer can afford. His subject is himself and the world and it requires every ounce of stamina he can summon to attempt to look on himself and the world as they are." "One can only face in others what one can face in oneself. On this confrontation depends the measure of our wisdom and compassion." "One day it begins to be borne in on the writer, and with great force, that he is living in Europe as an American. If he were living there as a European, he would be living on a different and far less attractive continent...if he has been preparing himself for anything in Europe, he has been preparing himself for America. In short, the freedom that the American writer finds in Europe brings him, full circle, back to himself, with the responsibility for his development where it always was: in his own hand...

This is the amazing Pam Sneed breaking it down. Have a GREAT Christmas to EVERYONE if I don't get to you before... farvel , the lab p.s. I woke up this morning and realize that I have a bit to say about this piece. A couple of years ago I got invited to a dinner by a friend of mine who spends a lot of time in Ghana. She wanted to get a group of women together whom she felt would really inspire each other. There was a former colleague of mine, and another woman whom she had worked with previously. Aesthetically, the table at this restaurant worked: We were all relatively educated women, self-assured, a bit older and visually, culturally inclusive. We decided to eat at a Ghanaian restaurant and as we waited for our food the most curious conversation came up. I don't remember how it happened, and I admit that my memory is not the best but this is how I experienced it. Basically, I had my friend who spends a lot of time in Ghana say how many of her friends from Ghana don't unde...

Today was my last day at my job. It's strange to feel so sad about leaving behind a place I have spent the last 5 years and at the same time so excited about my new venture in life. Saying goodbye has always been difficult for me, especially since there have been so many times in my life where I never was able to say that proper goodbye, able to feel that closure. Well, I hope I did that today. I emptied out my office, hugged my colleagues and lugged all my stuff home with a help of my friend. Now I'm sitting in my apartment, amidst all my junk, in silence, thinking about my life. I had a good 5 years there and have had some excellent colleagues. That is a lot to be thankful for. So now, I sit in my apartment, in silence, and enjoy the moment. I'll organize my house, listen to New York City radio and nurse myself, slowly, back to health. farvel, the lab

Blackgirl on Mars officially supports the New School Occupation. As a New School Graduate, I was ashamed to learn of Kerry's appointment. He goes against everything the New School stood for and should continue to stand for. The reason I went to the New School was because of its historical roots in left-wing political thought. That's right. It messes up sometimes, I've seen it, but the heart of the New School is one of the few bastions for real left-wing thought in the U.S. I don't know if it's still like that, but I know the Professors I came into contact with and the literature that was passed on to me really spoke to me and reminded me that I was not the only person who knew that something was up in this world and that there were alternatives that many would prefer to be silenced. Get Kerry out now. Reclaim the New School. NOW! Thanks Max, at Open Anthropology for covering this!

So, I've finally seen the Kara Walker exhibition at Gammel Strand , Copenhagen. It's a great little gallery, the same place I saw Isaac Julian (In fact, that is probably the last time I visited this space, and this was years ago!). I had only two hours to view the entire show, which simply is not enough time, so what I'm offering are very peripheral impressions, along with some of the comments of my companions. I preface all of this with the fact that I support any artists' endeavor towards what his or her personal truth(s) is(are). I recognize that this journey, whether private or public, can be very messy. Alice Walker comes to mind when I write this, because she is a writer whose work never fails to strike me by its honesty: And when a writer speaks so brazenly from his or her own heart I can not, in any shape way or form write anything to hurt them. Instead, I would rather take the time to commend them, as I believe all internal dialogs, when offered on display, ar...

This morning I awoke with the distinct sensation that my bed was wobbling. I could hear shuffling about and shaking in my neighbor's apartments as well. A picture frame fell from my shelf. Would you believe that we were hit by an Earthquake this morning? 4.7 on the Richter scale! The last earthquake was in 1985--but apparently it was not as strong as this one. Well, that's something to write home about. farvel, lab

I'm sick! My body feels like crap and my throat, like sandpaper. One of the things that really sucks about getting older is that you have to act like an adult all the time. This includes still preparing food for the offspring even when you are sick. This means having to figure out things like interest (oh boy do I wish I bothered to learn that in high school) and having the courage to live the life you dare to live. But it's all good. Sunday is the day to rest, and so it's just me, my remote and television (with a copy of Morrison's A Mercy just in case I get ambitious...)

Zilla's blog Hat's Off at http://hairgreaseshoeshine.blogspot.com/ Check it out... Saw a pretty nice apartment today. Someone else is interested in buying it, but I take it all as a good sign. I know I will find something perfect for Kai and myself. farvel, the lab

Remember there is no such thing as belonging. The material is, in the end, immaterial. The only thing we belong to, in the end, is each other. And even that fades.

There's been so much going on lately. I'll try to account for it all. The most important one is that I've been offered a teaching position at another school and I have accepted. It means I will have to move house--something I have been postponing for as long as possible. It also means that I must somehow, find a way for my son and I to live on less money. Don't even ask. All I can say is that I am moving on, in the right direction, following my heart and all that other hippie crap which usually always leads to inner contentment, right? And the kids! I have been in love with them ever since the first time I started to work there like five years ago. One of favorite episodes is when I got confronted by two students there. I was packing up my bag, getting ready to exit the class and two young girls approach me. One was from Somalia, the other Turkey. The children there are all very mixed (International in the true sense of the word) and I could tell the minute I landed in ...

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... by Jack Black

The BBC's African Perspective programme is investigating what life is like for some of an estimated 20 million Africans who live in the diaspora. Ellen Otzen visits Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, to see how the 45,000 Africans there have adapted to their chilly Nordic home. Read the rest of the article here: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7687491.stm