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

I took this pic on Big Island, Hawaii. Right before I took it, I drew some circles on the sand and my friends said, jokingly, "The aliens now have a place to land!"

This is one of the results of a project artist Gillian Grantsaan and I conducted with some students from my school and the Karen Blixen Museum. Gillian put this video together based on some recordings and photos taken, while there. I love it. The sad thing is, we seem to be the only people who got the ground-breaking nature of this project. I mean, picture this: a group of kids, all from various backgrounds, but born here in Denmark, convene at the Karen Blixen Museum to contemplate and write about Identity. You'd think that the Danish press would be all over this: a sort of modernization and deconstruction of Danish Identity through the portal of one of Denmark's leading cultural icons: Karen Blixen. But no Danish press was interested. The interesting thing was that while we were there, we were the only people of color! Not to mention that the bulk of visitors to the Karen Blixen house were mostly older and white. Now, I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that...

She is gone now. The sight of flour on skin, age spots form an archipelago across her arms. a clutter of dusty pictures and rosaries under her bed. Life, you’d sometimes think, hadn’t been that good to you . Girdles that squeezed your fibroid infested womb— An old hallowed out home to five Barricaded Against Life… You comb your unruly hair back And look uncomfortable. The look is not you. I love it when you just Let it be— Instead of taming it And looking like a scared Old lady Instead of the courageous Heroine that you are. You still store things Away In overflowing drawers And cupboards Afraid that one day You will need Something & it will not be there: You say, I feel your mother Is doing something To me — Like I can’t put my Fingers on it – Your finger pointed in the air Only to slowly come down And rest, at your side Powerless. We loved each other once. The nights I fell asleep under the symphony o...

So last night I watched Joaquin Phoenix's I'm Still Here (no comment) but seeing him made me think of his brother River. Don't get me wrong, I recognize Joaquin's brilliance, but he definitely goes places in that movie, that, as far as I'm concerned, he didn't need to go. But that's another story. Anyway, again, watching it pointed me in the direction of his late-brother (perhaps it was the last scene in J's movie?) and then I found the above which I feel compelled to share. The messages that these panelists are sharing are so on-point and relevant now, even more than ever. I take my hat off to Lisa Bonet: she's always done things her own way and that earns my respect. Interesting to note that two of the panalists, Phoenix and Julia, have both passed. The entire episode is worth your time. farvel, the lab

I need Peace...Soon.

It's officially over a year now since I have been home. Here are some of my favourite pics that either my girl Karen Good took on our memorable stroll through my old Brooklyn stomping grounds, or some I took myself...the lovely young lady is my grandmother!

"I wish I could say, however, that general understanding of the Middle East, the Arabs, and Islam in the United States has improved somewhat, but alas, it really hasn't. For all kinds of reasons, the situation in Europe seems to considerably better." Edward Said, in his 2003 preface to the 25th Anniversay Edition of his groundbreaking book, Orientalism . "Look Lesley," R's voice says with excitement, "It's Denmark!" "See, this is Jutland, and this over here is Fyn!" H chimes in as he points to two puddles on the pavement. I have just completed a walk around the lake with my 7th graders. We sometimes go out the last thirty minutes or so to get some fresh air and move our bodies. The sun is shining and I can see the blue sky and white clouds reflecting off the puddles. "You're right!" I exclaim in agreement, "It is Denmark!" I am amazed that it is Denmark they both see in these puddles. They proceed to point out ...

I wonder if Columbus dreamed of me from aboard the shaky ship that sailed the seas was I upon his broken heart when he took the world apart? Did he see me reflecting in the Oceans daring to disband the shackles of humans? Or did he ask for forgiveness first devouring Paradises with an unquenchable thirst? I wonder if Columbus thought of me, as he set forth upon unsailed Seas how much a change to the destiny of me... I console myself remind myself that he was a disciple of God, that he could not know the infinity of love but still I wonder if Columbus dreamed of me as he set upon the Seven Seas a little girl on her grandmother's knees an island her home ...for ancestors never to be. Forgotten.

As the child of my father, I had in my possession a very interesting record collection by the time I was ten. By then, my father had tossed me an odd array of albums, he felt for one reason or another, he had to pass on to me. Among these albums were the soundtracks to many Broadway musicals such as My Fair Lady, Jesus Christ Superstar and West Side Story. I spent many years listening to records probably deemed odd for a ten year-old, such as Franky Valli and the Four Seasons, the soundtrack to Breakfast at Tiffany's and Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Many of the titles I just named molded my consciousness into images and storylines which remained untarnished by the cinematic productions themselves. I can only equate the experience with the difference between reading a book and seeing the cinematic version: the former always wins out because in the end, nothing ever beats your own, unhindered imagination. One of the albums that I listened to the most, although I had never seen the m...

I wonder if Columbus dreamed of me from aboard the shaky ship that sailed the seas was I upon his broken heart when he took the world apart? Did he see me reflecting in the Oceans daring to disband the shackles of humans? Or did he ask for forgiveness first devouring Paradises with an unquenchable thirst? I wonder if Columbus thought of me, as he set forth upon unsailed Seas how much a change to the destiny of me... I console myself remind myself that he was a disciple of God, that he could not know the infinity of love but still I wonder if Columbus dreamed of me as he set upon the Seven Seas a little girl on her grandmother's knees an island her home ...for ancestors never to be. Forgotten.

Different? What makes us different? Are we really that different, as we say we are? The way I am, the way you are, the way we are! For me different is our personality, our cultures, our identity, our looks. Different can mean a lot. But we are all the same no matter what we say we are. We all live in this world and go through the same things; it’s just about the way we go through it and that’s what makes us different from each other. I was born in Denmark, but my parents are born in Somalia and I’ve always thought about myself being different from the people I live next to. I call myself Somali even if though I’m born in Denmark. So are we really that different as we say we are? I don’t think we are. Written by Zanubia A. O

Gillion Granstaan (Surinam, the Netherlands, Denmark) Lesley-Ann Brown (USA, Trinidad & Tobago, Denmark)

phati’tude, an emphatic attitude towards contemporary literature, is a series of initiatives that foster understanding of and respect for cultural diversity through literature and media literacy. Born from the need to change a static mindset on the written word, our website provides a forum for poets, writers and educators with diverse voices and perspectives. phati’tude programs are the cornerstone of the IAAS. phati’tude Literary Magazine, is a quarterly publication that publishes poetry, fiction and essays written by both emerging and established writers of diverse origins whose works exhibit social, political and cultural awareness. Every issue offers readers riveting reviews, in-depth interviews, penetrating essays, a wonderful selection of artwork and photography; and a wide range of prose, short stories and poetry from the U.S. and around the world. phati’tude Literary Magazine is available on sale at amazon.com . www.phatitude.org This issue features essays by Marie Arana,...

Copenhagen Cool is a series of portraits about all the amazing people whose paths I cross during my sojourn here in Denmark. For the first portrait in this series, meet Barbara Berger: a spiritual sister whose path reflects light and truly inspires. 1. Where are you originally from? I’m from the US. 2. When did you come to Denmark? Why? My father worked in the Pentagon – he was a high military person – and when I was 17, I had a boyfriend who got drafted to go to Vietnam (it was during the Vietnam War). We were against the war and so I ran away from home with my boyfriend. We were underground for several years and ended up getting political asylum in Sweden. So I lived in Sweden for 2 years before I met a Dane and moved to Denmark. I’ve lived in Denmark since 1968. 3. Did you always know you would write books? Yes. I have written since I was a kid. My first published book was about this journey and the youth rebellion in the US against the Vietnam War. The book was called “The Journey...

This was back in 1997 and my girl Margarita Corporan took the shots. I will interview him again.

I am thrilled to report that poet/writer Staceyann Chin is currently in Copenhagen. I look forward to meeting her!

You don't know your name but you know God's name...

It's a cool morning...a gentle drizzle falls, a car drives by, birds chatter amongst themselves. Of all the places in the Universe, I am here...& where are you? This is a recent picture of my brother and grandmother in Brooklyn, New York. I love the pill box (always close to grandmother!); the juice in the jar, the iphone and the Buddha head (I have the same one!) all close by. A great constellation of modernity, don't you think?

I miss being on the road & will do all that I can to return... This Summer, we drove from Nice, France to Bologne, Italy, through Austria and home again... I miss the Autogrill in Italy that served the best coffee. I miss sleeping in the car. I miss seeing the mountains. I miss seeing the road ahead of me, completely open to contemplation...this Bandit Quest will be continued... farvel, the lab

I want a garden. It is as simple as that. This urge seems to come from a very ancient place. It is one which compels me to find that perfect piece of land to work and get to know on an intimate level: find out, what birds come here? Insects? How do the plants best compliment each other? What can I grow here? What wants to grow here? I find contemplations such as these demanding attention in my mind, pushing so many other things I once deemed important, like living in a city, aside. "It's your age," Helle, a 53 year-old who recalls Gertrude Stein . "It's hormones. I've had it happen to me twice in my life, and now I have a garden." I'm sitting at Bøssehuset (The Gay House) in Christiania for Gerry Hall's farewell party. It's a sunny day, and I'm among a collection of folk present to celebrate a life of a star who has returned to the heavens. I first met Gerry about four or five years ago at a party. He was also from the U.S. and h...

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news , world news , and news about the economy Who picks the fruits and vegetables on your table? Check this awesome endeavor by my boy Rayner...continuing the agenda of putting a human face on those rendered invisible by our system.

Ingredients for Miracles: 1 portion of all you got faith in yourself. 1 portion of all you got faith in the universe and the perfection of it all (and the perfection of you). 1 picture of how your want things to unfold. 1 dose of all the love you have a mantra that creates space for non-linear possibilities move in confidence through that space that is imagined between where you are and that which is already yours. move in love and light. know that you are created in perfection and that the universe makes no mistakes. farvel, the lab

I visited Arthur Flower's rootsblog today and found this clip I just had to share. Arthur Flowers is an amazing writer, and lucky for me, I can also claim him as a friend. Back when I worked at Marie Brown Associates, Arthur was one of our most trusted readers--helping us get through the mountains of manuscripts that came through our doors. Most agents would just ignore unsolicited manuscripts, but Marie? She was committed to rewarding writers, no matter what their station in life, for their efforts of actually finishing a book. It is this spirit and devotion which makes Marie a force unto herself, and in this light, I ask all who come upon this post to think about the spirit in which Marie operates, the magic of Arthur Flowers and the wise words of Amiri Baraka.

So yesterday V and I finally hung out. It's been a while since we've seen each other: She's been in New York for the past two months (lucky devil...). Kai and I biked over to her new apartment in Nyhavn, a funky old school Copenhagen apartment which never fails to inspire me to write... With it's loft bed and central location, courtyard view and proximity to the water, it's the writer's dream apartment. It's a chill day, lounging on the couch, our two boys Teo and Kai geeking out on their respective computers. V fills me in on her recent trip to Berlin, I gush about my upcoming trip to Nice (I can't wait...) We check out shoes, clothes, books... Later that day we end up in Nørrebro. It's the part of Copenhagen that reminds me most of New York. It's hectic there...young kids breaking the virginity of their adulthood (their first Summer out on the streets, a valid part of the nightlife). There are families with kids whose parents sip cool on the...

In 1999 I made a life-changing decision. I packed up an odd assortment of clothes, books, old letters, journals and headed for Copenhagen, Denmark to give birth to my child. There are many things I left behind: friends, belongings, family. In the landscape of family, there was my father, living in a home on Dekalb Avenue. My father's kidneys had failed him and due to his insistence at not showing up for his dialysis and the fact that he was officially a ward of the state, he had very little options. His health was bad. He had already suffered numerous strokes which let him unable to use the right arm and hand. I had visited him in the hospital a few times, and the last time was due to the fact that his neighbor had found him passed out in his room. He was not happy to be in the home. He complained endlessly about it and in fact, one day, with his face full of rare hope asked me, "Lesley, why don't we live together?" To which I immediately and flatly replied, "No...

if you look closely...you will see that this grape is smiling!

I guess I am not the only rare bird spotted in Denmark...

Southern Sweden, May 2010

Photo by Arezu, 8th grade student The photo project with my 8th Graders is going really well. They really got the hang of it, and seem to enjoy the whole process of looking at things differently and experimenting with angles and images. So much so, that during class, many of them had their cameras out. Here's one of me, taken by Arezu, while I was running my mouth in front of the class!

A writer. A beautiful soul. A car, the road & shared Dreams/Love/Visions. Welcome to Bandit Quest.... More to come...

Cut & Mix Cut & Mix My whole Life Has been About cut & mix My great grandfather Cut & mix From India Cut & mix Marry my great grandmother Cut & mix Cut & mix My grand mother Cut & mix Father Cut & mix The product Cut & mix Of Corsica Cut & mix & Africa cut & mix my whole life has been about cut & mix my great grandmother cut & mix only liked men cut & mix from Africa Cut & mix She had Cut & mix 7 husbands cut & mix although cut & mix not all cut & mix at the same cut & mix time… my grandfather cut & mix Portuguese Cut & mix Africa Cut & mix India Cut & mix My whole life Cut & mix Has been Cut & mix Rum & coke Cut & mix Trinidad Cut & mix Double-dutch Cut & mix Brooklyn Cut & mix My whole life Cut & mix Has been Cut & mix & now cut & mix a son cut & mix from Trinidad ctu & mix Africa Cut & mix India Cut & mix Corsica Cut ...

It's been a week now since I have returned from my trip to Amsterdam with 21 of my 7th graders. There was a moment where we didn't think the trip was going to happen: Mother Nature decided to do some talking up in Iceland, and for once, the whole world just kind of shut up and listened. Or tried to. Although many of my kids were nervous about whether the flight was cancelled or not, I took a "let's take this one step at a time" approach. Luckily, all worked out and in the end, on the evening of Friday 23rd we met at the airport and took off for Amsterdam, volcanic ash and all. I love Amsterdam and not for the stereotypical reasons. First of all, it IS a beautiful city. The architecture and structure yells innovation and is inspiring. The cosmopolitan atmosphere speaks to my soul and every time I go there (now 5 times) my heart can't help but whisper, I moved to the wrong city for to me, a city that lacks diversity is an anemic city. It also doesn't hurt t...

Today I gave my grade 8's the assignment to go out and photograph the world around them as though it was the first time they were seeing it. After looking into the life of Gandhi and talking about protest and being heard, they decided that the way they wanted to make a statement is through photography. So as I was on my way to meet them, on this beautiful Spring day, I decided to join in on the fun: Istedgade is but a sliver of a street and is Copenhagen's "Red Light District" (the meatpacking district is right around the corner...) Here on Istedgade sex shops, heroin abusers and illegal gangsters share sidewalks with mothers pushing strollers and the hippest of the hippest eating sushi and drinking lattes. Istedgade runs right into the backside of the Main Station, ensuring that those who want alternate fixes can find the quickest and easiest way to them. Next weekend I'm off to Amsterdam with my 7th graders...easy how time creeps up on you. farvel, the lab