A Vida são dois dias

in rene's garden...

Recently, my friend Sara from Portugal shared the above expression with me. It means, she said, that "Life is two days." I like that concept, and in that spirit, I'll break down the last two days of my life:

First of all, I'm on my way to Rhode Island to write at the very first Rhode Island Writer's Colony, spearheaded by Brook Stephens of Clever Agency. Together with the fabulous Jason Reynolds,  this will the kick-off event of this writing colony.

Okay, maybe I'll cover more than 2 days.

kai back in the day.

Mom & Reggie holding it down together in Brooklyn
for 17 years!
Mom has actually been in New York 44 years now! 

Thursday : I fly out of Copenhagen to Dusseldorf, Germany. The connection on paper seems effortless. The delay ends up being tantamount to a workday.  AirBerlin compensates us however, for the 4 hour delay. We get 5 Euros! (I know).  The highlight is my son asking, "Can I take you to the airport?", which in Copenhagen is about a 15 minute metro ride. I have to admit that when it comes to my son, I'm getting a bit nostalgic lately.  All of a sudden this kid sprouted and is now even taller than both his father and me.  His feet seems twice my size. Where did my baby go? I know, I know - but to all of you out there with little ones ENJOY IT. It goes really fast.  My mother is, as always, at the airport to meet me despite this delay.  The last time I flew into New York was in February. It was a snowstorm.  My mother still came and met me at the airport.  In true Trini country-bookie style (I LOVE IT!) my mother brings me a roti. Thank you mommy.

We take the train back to Brooklyn. The movement of the train lulls me into a state of time-travel : it is as though I'd never left.

In the taxi from Jay Street Borough hall, we begin to talk to the taxi driver.  We exchange backgrounds. His family hails from Pakistan, but like me, he was born in Brooklyn.
Lately, I've been thinking about the concept of immigrant vs. expat. My parents were immigrants from Trinidad and Tobago. I am an expat living in Copenhagen from Brooklyn/Trinidad. Human journeys can be complex.

Next stop: The illustrious Marie D. Brown.  As I push open the front door, I am greeted by the calm and creative atmosphere of Marie's home.  There's art adorning the walls, the nameless, crazy cat sleeping atop a chair in the front parlor,  and the smell of frankincense wafts to my soul.  Yes. I am blessed.

ed bradly, marie & cronchite

154th street.

I make my way upstairs to the third floor and enter the apartment I stayed in the  last time.  The room looks exactly like I left it four months ago...except that Clemenza Hawkings has also been there.  This I can tell from the art supplies neatly placed around the room, colorful summer dresses and bags of books. A place for women to work, write. This is what Marie offers.

I have always loved the decor of Marie's house. It is chock-full of reminders in LOVE - whether it be the pictures of friends, colleagues and family that are proudly displayed around the walls and bookcases, hundreds, maybe thousands of books that include classics, first prints, and all the books Marie has had a hand in birthing into this world, the African art, knick-knacks from world travel and adventures.  This house is a universe of culture, love for who we are, who we have been and who we will be as a people, of really exercising what Marie always reminds all of us is the secret to our continuation: Reciprocity.

muki, marie's daughter,
having her own party with the official party's starters
before the event. i love this photo.

 While in Harlem, I run a few errands on 145th Street and enjoy the walk to and fro.  I enjoy the friendly hellos from the folks in the streets, and the unseasonably hot weather. It's been too long since I've summered in NYC and as a child growing up in Brooklyn, summer in NYC has been imprinted on my genetic coding.  Reared in front of buidlings, on concrete, jumping double-dutch, playing RCK (Run, catch and kiss), the smell of sun on concrete opens up a portal of memories that I am unable to visit now.  But it fills me with happiness: I have so much to write.

 Marie and I catch up a bit before I head to Port Authority to take the bus to Kingston, NY.  I'm to meet my friend Rene - business woman extraordinaire-now-turned-bush-woman.  Rene has escaped to the woods - okay, not quite, yet. But she's found herself a home in Upstate New York, with the woods right behind her, creaks going through her backyard and guniea hens hanging out on her property.

We were supposed to take off on our road trip to Rhode Island yesterday, but alas! Car trouble! But, I'm taking it all in stride...I'll get there and history will happen. I am so looking forward to sharing this space for creatives such as myself - and to have a stretch of uninterrupted time to do the touches on my work that must be done.

the river right down the road from rene's

A special thanks to my mother, Beryl Brown Balbirsingh, brother, Gerard Balbirsingh, Rayner Ramirez, Brook Stephenson, Rene Hendricks & Marie D. Brown.

farvel,
the lab