Sixteen Years!!!
I have photo albums that contained within them intended happiness and days of calm and domestic bliss.
Funny, it is only now I see the potential of this place. I am not so deluded as to suggest that it is the apartment that lent itself so willingly to the undoing of what I had built here. It's a combination of events, many having much to do with my body political.
The biggest challenge are my plants. One, my ficca, well, it's more like a tree, is as old as my son. I remember buying it when was pregnant. I remember once it had gotten infested by tree lice and how sad I had become as the leaves and plant withered. Finally, in a desperate attempt, I fumigated it. Now, I'm not recommending that anyone fumigates a plant. I have a particular emotional attachment to this plant and was desperate. To my horror, all the leaves fell off. But you know what? New ones started to grow. That's when I understood the power of life.
I'll take some of my plants with me, but most importantly I wish for them good homes. I've enjoyed cultivating my green thumb with them and now it is time that they clean the air for others. Plants are wonderful like that.
I don't have too much stuff but I have too much. In a way my ideal state is to have it all fit in a bag. But I have a weakness for clothes. So far I'm having trouble letting go of books, plants and clothes. Great, this is going great!
But again, I don't have much. I've always lived a relatively simple life, preferring to invest my money on travel and experiences.
I have been sitting in this very apartment envisioning this scene: my packing up and moving out. I know I want a home - but my home must be in a place where I feel comfortable. And as sad as it is to admit, I never felt comfortable in my apartment.
The funny thing is that I'll be moving in with a friend who is also from Brooklyn. I joke and tell her that now I have my very own Jamaican landlord. She's from Flatbush too! I've known Paulette for about 8 years and she has 3 kids and have been her about the same amount (slightly longer actually) of time as I have. Paulette is gets me to laugh from the moment she says my name. She says my name Lesley-Ann - like a real Caribbean woman. It takes me back. It feels like home.
Project writing is going well. Today I had a breakthrough with a narrative. I feel as though I have sunk my teeth into something beefy, like I jumped into that doubledutch rope right on time and all I got to do is keep writing/jumping - my writing process is interesting because it is truly as though I am channeling these stories. Many times I write things and when I go back I don't recognize that it is something that I had written and many times I am quite impressed by it.
One of the things Marie reminded me of when I was in New York was the average age of female writers to debut - mid-40s. She mentioned many of the greats, Toni Morrison for example and reminded me of the adage that good things come with time.
When I set off to write The Mothers of Memory over 20 years ago - there was no way I could have understood the story and what I was striving for back then. It is only through my own experience and relationship to this experience that I can now give the story shape, use the narrative to be efficient in its function and that is a return to the sacred female/male balance, amongst other things.
I left New York City 16 years ago and journeyed to a country I knew very little about. Would I do it again? Yes. Without a doubt.
And now it's time for yet another unfolding...the next chapter of the journey of Blackgirl on Mars. All she has to do now is get rid of all her stuff...
farvel,
the lab
