Charis Books and More hosted a reading by Alexis Pauline Gumbs from the book The Revolution Starts At Home last night.  Every time I’m around this awesome woman I feel elevated.  She’s got a funny, honest, bold, quirky spirit that just amazes me.  Her essay discusses strategies for creating a support network and taking a stand against domestic abuse.

Of course sisterfriend did not do a “traditional” book reading in which the audience sits passively and listens to the author discussing this or that.  No, we were up and moving, sculpting our bodies into words.  Very Lisa Joe-esque.   The dialogue and group shearing touched on transitioning from silence and alienation to sustainable and empowering relationships.

“When we support each other we have what we need”

“Honor your spirit”

“Stand up for each other in concrete ways”

“The truth telling on things that you have nightmares about can empower you the most”

They’re absolutely stunning.

Her new book is described as “A cogent group of photographs scrutinizing the vociferous need to travel contrasted with the seductive lure of home, WHAT THIS IS ABOUT documents my first year after college and my last summer at home with portraits of friends and family compete with newly found landscapes to create a cohesive narrative.”

Kudos darling.

nommmmm nommmm nommmm

Saturday’s Organic Fest was inspiring. The Habesha garden tour made me want to start my own indoor tomato garden.  Why? The tour guide explained that Kroger grocery store genetically modifies their tomatoes with fish genes.  Seriously? Something about that just seems wrong.  Also, the tour guide stressed the importance of eating to live instead of living to eat.  His lecture gently reminded me of the importance of healthy eating.

Comedy is 1 part timing, 1 part wit/cynicism, and 3 parts truth.  Comedians have a very specific brand of intelligence sensitive to rhythm, human behavior, dialogue, and popular culture.  If she can find the absurdity and commonality in life situations and get you to say, “Oh my god that’s so true, that really does play out like that” then they’ve got the comic touch.  Stanford University graduate Issa Rae, the creative genius behind The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, has that touch because she’s honest.

Lets face it, most of us aren’t naturally gifted with charm, confidence, and swag.  Many companies thrive on people who second-guess themselves.  By raping your subconscious with images that wreck your self-worth, the media creates billion dollar beauty industries that feed into the pathologies and insecurities they help create.

Yet Awkward Black Girl shows viewers a unique brand that’s authentic.  She demonstrates an alternative representation of the black woman.  The series is a declaration that not every black woman relates to NeNe Leakes from The Real House Wives of Atlanta.  The 5^th episode pulled 54,804 viewers proving that J is “relatable”.  When she shaves her head in the first episode you know that it’s an act of resistance!  She defines herself on her own terms and is brutally honest about herself.  That kind of behavior puts her on awkward super swag status…

1. No pictures or video were allowed.  I managed to sneak this one as she walked by.

Obviously not my best work. Comical really.

2. Midnight’s love interest is Japanese.  Initially, I had no issue with this match up.  I grew up on an island that touts its diversity.  I was raised in a culture that believes love transcends race.  After hearing Sister Souljah discuss her new book Midnight and the Meaning of Love, however, I began questioning the match up.  Why didn’t Midnight fall in love with an African American female character?  More importantly, what are the implications of Midnight’s love life for the millions of African American women, young and old, who desire to be in fulfilling relationships and purchase the book trying to find “the meaning of love”?  Annoyance and a drop of despair hit me when she addressed African American women (who probably made up 99% of the audience) saying,  “Ghetto love is militant.  You’re not supposed to be militant with your man” (hummm a bit ironic Sister “SOULJAH”).

Now I’m Afro-Caribbean American and I didn’t grow up in an inner city borough like Brooklyn so I won’t claim to understand the complete dynamics of “ghetto” love.  The closest I’ve come to dating a “gangster” is a black guy from Camden who loved to shop at Whole Foods and watch documentaries.  But there’s gotta be more to it than the one dimensional, ignorant, culture devoid manifestation that her discussion hinted at.  The talk felt yet again like African American women were being singled out and told your love is not good enough, you don’t know how to love a man right so don’t be surprised if he gets his lovin’ elsewhere.

Although she has every right to explore her creativity and develop a range of characters, she dropped the ball on this one.  Here was her chance to offer African American women a model of what healthy black love could look like and she did not.  Here was her chance to demonstrate to African American women, who are probably her biggest fans, that they could cultivate within themselves the kind of spirituality that attracts long lasting relationships but instead she choose to pair Midnight with a Japanese woman.   The Coldest Winter Ever was a “cautionary tale about drugs.”   Her new book is definitely not a celebratory tale about black love.  Are our fellow African American sisters so hopeless that one of the most influential pop writers of black culture couldn’t create an African American female character who “deserved to be loved”?  Hopefully in her upcoming books on Portia Santiaga and Midnight she will.

Sister Souljah, you say men don’t want or respect women who invite them into their most private spaces after 24 hours but you leave it up to Zane to offer an example of Black on Black love.

The streets will not love you back and for African American women, neither will Midnight!

4:17am Ode to Insomnia

Black women writers such as Phillis Wheatley, Gwendolyn Brooks and Audre Lorde have written from the margins of the margins while validating the lives of other black women for decades.  Ms. Wise, a poet born and raised in Camden, is a product of their legacy.  Label her if you must; call her an activist because of her poetry workshops  in Camden high schools, a slam poet because of national competitions she has won or a gifted orator because of  her inexplicable hold over her audience while reciting her work. But remember that her words remain true to her lived experiences.

Her writing is beautiful, truthful, detailed and well crafted.  She does the writer’s work well.  There are no signs of rushed pen to paper, no perfunctory lyrics. You will not hear prescribed subjects or high slam score begging lines.  Her writing touches on a range of subjects both general and nuanced.  She writes a praise poem for Chucks sneakers in one poem and describes the complexity of mother daughter relationships in another.  Her goal is not impress her audience with words but to impress upon them the need to heal through acknowledging past experiences.  Not one to shy away from the ugly and raw reality of life for many black women, in one poem she explicitly describes being molested. Some may eschew the emotionalism but this is Wise poetry.  This is real.

So are her performances.  Her oratorical prowess demands a nuanced attention to the rise and fall of rhythm, pacing and volume, the word play, and the weighted rests.  When you listen to Ms. Wise you get the sense that she is one breathe away from singing.  Her musically toned delivery conjures up revival preaching mixed with an unabashed, hip hop swagger.

Good poets tell a story.  Great poets like Aleysha Wise tell their own story and break silences.  Her poems written with “truth telling” as the main ingredient are long lasting.  They cut through age, race and time; they touch the listener and prompt healing in ways only acknowledged experiences can.

It’s Saturday night. You’re on South Street and you’ve just polished off a mango daiquiri at Fat Tuesdays. Earlier that night you devoured one, no make that three slices of Lorenzo’s pizza. Where’s your next stop? The Zion Train at Pearl of Africa, where every Saturday night poets, storytellers, hip hop artists and singers perform for a crowd that shows much love.

The hosts of Zion Train, Ray and Los aka “Afloe”, will leave you with a greater appreciation for the art of hosting. The first person you’ll notice after climbing the stairs up to the open mic spot is Los. He has energy for days.  Seriously this guy showers with Red Bull. A West Philly native and trained actor, he’s also a well known MC in Philly’s underground hip hop scene. Los has been putting out mix tapes in the city for almost a decade. You can probably catch him on a skateboard kick/pushin’ down South Street with a dope Bob the Builder back pack on. (Makes me want to whip out my Dora the Explorer bike and race the rent–a-cops). He has two CDs titled “Pictures of Poetry” and “A Shot in the Dark”.  Oh and he’s been hitting up the art scene at the Zion Train for almost as long as it was started.

Ray, the other host, is a calm brother.  He is originally a hip hop head who enjoyed the lack of rules found in poetry but was converted in ’95 after hearing Ursala Rucker’s track on The Roots “Do You Want More” album.  A number of Philly spots welcomed him as a host, including Panoramic Poetry at the October Gallery and Vice or Verse at the Arts Garage, before his latest gig at the Zion Train. Ray explains, “I’m a Battle MC stuck in the genre of poetry so I am intrigued by the Slam but rarely participate because putting a number on someone’s heart seems wrong to me”. Ray published a book called “I’m Tired of Dreaming” and a CD called “16 days”. He’s currently working on a second book, a collection of “Love’ish” poems which he described as “a good challenge for me in growing my art.”

These brothers make hosting look easy.  In the everyday hustle and bustle of a 9 to 5 it would be interesting to see how such polar opposites interact. Between the hours of 9pm to 1am on Saturdays, however, they flow/fit. I’ve seen Los expertly hold a show together with five people in the audience as well as a crowd of over twenty five. Ray’s poems about his father’s love and stories on his mother’s refusal to see him perform in a bar remind you that he’s human; he’s someone you can connect with.

Both hosts have a keen eye and ear for knowing how to generate audience participation, control the crowd’s volume level, keep it light and fun, stir in some consciousness, inspire a shy poet to perform his first piece and keep you engaged enough to return the next Saturday.  It’s hard to keep a steady crowd every week when there are so many distractions.  Yet we keep coming back because they’re just two dudes who love The Word and it shows.  Whatever your definition is of a good host they fit the mold and turn hosting into an art.

The 50 Greatest Ladies and Gentlemen, directed by Sarah Lowry, charms your inner kid while challenging your adult intellect.  The show was presented by the theatre company Missoula Oblongata.  Their mission statement reads, “The Missoula Oblongata is an experimental theatre company dedicated to creating and touring original work. Our lights, sound, and sets are all homemade, transportable, and operated by the performers themselves….We meet unlikely audiences in their neighborhoods, their parks, their favorite music venues, and their homes—and transform these spaces into temporary, anarchistic theaters.” The show was brought to Studio 34, a yoga studio on Baltimore Ave, by Puppet Uprising.  Check out their website for future events in the city.

Charles Leo Gebhardt IV and Travis Schorn opened up the four player show with a folksy duet and acoustic guitar playing awesomness.  Donna Sellinger and Madeline Ffitch  co-authored the play which tells the story of a cowardly soldier returning home only to discover that everyone in his brother’s town has a mysterious dancing sickness. He befriends a spider, who loves breakfast almost as much as he does, while coming to grips with the realization that his brother, dancing to his own noise maker driven beat, no longer recognizes him.  When the soldier visits a “certified” doctor in an attempt to find a cure for the dancing mania they bicker about submarines, things beneath love like wooden chairs and whether or not tarantulas bite.

Each cast member creatively uses puppets, a crank box, cardboard sets, wooden bridges, a wacky gland contraption and shadow puppet choreography as a wonderful extension of the show’s storytelling.  You can’t help feeling child like excitement as it twirls its way into the yoga studio as props are introduced.  One of the crowd favorites was the mammal sized tarantula spider puppet who cooked pancakes for the cowardly soldier.

What really catches your attention is the cast’s economical use of lighting. Creativity at its finest, desk lamps—you know the ones with bendable necks—were arranged and rearranged throughout the show.  The cast would simply click them on and off with their feet or hands. The lighting added a wonderful effect to the overall storytelling quality of the show.

Oh and yes tarantulas do bite!