Blackgirl on Mars is on Vacation!

Dear Readers,
BGOM is now officially on vacation until August 14th!
Happy Summer,
the lab

Black Women in Denmark Picnic '09: Thanks for the Sisterhood!

Thanks to all the sisters who made the Black Women in Denmark Picnic '09 a success! Although the forecast was rain, there was only Sunshine, warmth and smiles. I'm already looking forward to next years!
farvel,
the lab

We Interupt My Vacation to Present:

Bandit Queen Press is Proud to Announce Its Second Title!

Bandit Queen Press is proud to announce its upcoming second title, "Good Works", an anthology by Expat writers here in Denmark! There will be more information to come, but right now, here are some fanatastic pics of the American Women's Club Writing Group holding up the award from the American Women's Club (AWC) which made this anthology possible!
farvel,
the lab

On Being Me (A Response to Alice Walker's 'On Stripping Bark from Myself'

because
all the women
in my family
keep Silent
about their
Awkward truths
I will
tell mine
in an Art Blakey
kind of way

So that
the young
will know that
there are
warriors
before them:

women who
lead with
dreams
and know
that there
is no
Such
thing as
a Casual Lover...

I will live
my life
lonely
it may
sometimes
seem

because

the person
in Love
is the
person
who can
never
be Free...

Bornholm, June 2009

A Show Not To Be Missed...

(click here for more details)

The Copenhagen Blues...

You got the Copenhagen Blues when you long to be somewhere else. When you long to be home, with your grandmother, as the time bomb ticks away at her consciousness.
Your're so far away from home, so far away from Brooklyn, from Diamond Vale: Sometimes it just don't make sense. But it's not like this all the time.

This is a picture of my Auntie Bernice, My grandmother and cousin Dominic. My son Kai is in the front. This was last Summer, in Tobago.

In Copenhagen...

Just discovered that celebrated poet and novelist Ben Okri will be here in Copenhagen at the Royal Library on Thursday 27 August 2009 at 20:00.
Click here for more information http://www.kb.dk/en/dia/forfatterscene/090827_okri.html

Liot

Image by Radislav Golubtsov

Liot
came from Texas
& had peroxide
blonde hair
pretty,
small feet
with bright
red toenails & a body
that told of diving.

She’s what some
People refer to
As white trash
As if it is ok
To call anyone
Trash.

She looked like
Stevie Nicks
All into
Cher

And had a sign
that
Read:
nudity beyond this
Point
hanging
over the entrance
Of the room she
Shared with a
mechanic
Boyfriend
who cared
More
about his hair
Than he did for her.

She had a crystal ball
And a limp that got worse
When it rained.

She liked to borrow my phone
When her bill went unpaid.
I guess you could say
I loved her…

I loved that trust she still
Seemed to have for
People
Although you know she got beaten down
Over and over again.

I like that although we came from
Two very different places:
Brooklyn & Texas,
We both
ended up on Maui
Neighbors
Keeping each
other company.

Between drugs
and car crashes
Liot earned money
As an exotic dancer.

Talk about euphemisms,

But that just what was
Great about Liot
She had a way about
Making bad things
Feel a lot better,
Like the way she took
Life and made
It seem so wonderful and
Beautiful although
You probably didn’t have a
Pot to piss in
And a court case you
Didn’t wake up to attend,

That was just the thing
About Liot,
She was a euphemism
A euphemism for life
A witch that made
Life seem so much better
Even if you ended up
With some guy
Who cared about his hair
And cars
Way more
than he cared
about you.

My Life in the Sunshine...

Roskilde is known for it's annual music festival. It is the place, ten years ago, that I became fascinated with the father of my child. I had made my way to Copenhagen, on train, from Paris to finish a book. And now, here we were, ten years later at a camp with other parents of hearing-impaired kids.
The weather is fantastic and we spent the day at Sagnlandet Lejre where you can see how Vikings once lived. You can ground grain, spark flint and brave hollowed out boats. You can step into the what homes probably looked like during the Iron Age and every so often a musician walks through the village with his instruments and song. It was pretty fun and every one seemed to have enjoyed it.
Being around Danish people I don't know always challenges me in ways that surprise me. It actually has little to do with the fact that they are Danish, and more to do with the fact that because I am a foreigner, I elicit the same questions over and over again. After being here for ten years, it becomes a bit tired.
It is hard having this conversation time and time again: Why are you here? How long have you been here? Where are you from? (the reaction is always surprise when you say New York. Now look, I love New York, but why do people act like I'm saying I'm the second-coming of Christ 'cause I'm from there? I mean, I know New York is dope, but so are many other places). Don't you miss it? Of course I do! And then of course, there is always the comment about my skin color, "I bet you don't need sunscreen!" Most of the times I can let these comments just slide off me like water on a duck, but sometimes...
Then there's the conversation that inevitably comes up when it is tada! revealed that my son is a vegetarian. Now why is it in this day and age, people react as if my son is a cannibal simply because he prefers not to eat animals?
It's also having to keep up with the language for the entire weekend. My dear friend Joy once said, "There are two types of people when it comes to foreign languages. There are those who jump right in and say, 'yes, come on! I want to learn this language!' Then there are those who simply just space out." I belong to the latter. So the fact that I even learned Danish is no small miracle. Now I'm not saying it's right, I mean, if you're gonna live in another country, I do believe you should learn the language. But again, you're talking to, well, an American. The only two languages I need to learn are Country and Western. Okay, seriously, it wasn't easy for me to learn Danish. It took me a long time. And it is not necessarily because Danish is difficult. It actually has a lot to do with my attitude towards the matter. I admit that.
And yes, I do speak Danish and yes, I could speak it all the time but to be honest a. I don't feel myself when I do and b. it is friggin tiring as hell. It takes so much concentration for my ADHD brain in the first place and to spend a whole day doing it? That's when I realize the true reason my son's father and I will never be together.
Get this: I really like Kai's father. It's been dogging me for years trying to crack the code as to why it is we can't be together. I mean, he is dope. We have many of the same interests. We're both lefties. We both pretty much like the same authors. And not least of all, we have a son together. So for years I have been laying in bed at night, trying to figure out why is it that we can't just figure it out? And then I get the answer.
See, I need to retreat at around 8pm. I'm tired. I have mingled. I have talked. I have shared and listened. I have had a good time. I need to go in my hotel room and recoup. I need to touch base with myself and get back to myself. Being around folks who are not like you is taxing. And I don't mean it in a bad way at all. It's just that it ups the being in another country experience from ten to eleven, right? You feel me? I have had a great day, no complaints here at all. But now I need peace. And so I say that I need to go back to the room and write. He still, after ten years of knowing each other, does not understand this.
In my heart it is no accident that this incident has occurred in Roskilde, that place where, as mentioned before I first became intrigued with him. It is the Universe telling me that it is ok now to let go. Finally, finally I get it and now there is even one more thing in my life I can lay to rest. Thank goodness.
And I'm in my hotel room anyway writing. Sheesh!
farvel,
the lab

The Calabash Literary Festival

Here is an amazing summary of this year's Calabash Literary Festival http://anniepaulactivevoice.blogspot.com/2009/05/bad-words-at-calabash-09.html
Enjoy!
the lab

Tisvilde

Tisvilde is an incredible part of Denmark and a place I have been fortunate enough to have access to since I first visited this country about ten years ago. There's the beach with its almost Medetaranian-like waters , the forest with paths that wind through gnarled trees, the old house, Amigo which has known me since the days my son nestled himself deep within my womb. Amigo is a simple house, of aged wood and memories, caressed regularly by the gentle roll of the train coming and going.

Yesterday I lost myself in meditation as I mowed the lawn, and thought how universal the smell of freshly cut grass must be. While I did so, a deer rushed past, not before staring me full in the eyes. There is something magical about being stared in the eyes by a wild animal.

I'm quiet again. Like the sea I have retreated to the ocean of my soul. I am preparing for my move: something which, if approached haphazardly, could very well threaten what semblance of sanity I have managed to construct. So I take my time, write to-do lists, pick up books I have longed to read and lose myself there.
Friday I watched "The Reader" and felt overwrought with emotion. I am now reading the book and comfort myself in the world of words. Sometimes I wonder why I risk human contact when books seem to offer portals to a myriad of experiences. But I know the answer, and I continue to live life truthfully and fully, no matter the pain sometimes meted out. For with the pain comes the joys and life is, after all, a series of ups and downs and to be honest I have nothing to complain about.


Earth rotates on its axis as I write and life continues. I threw a party a few weeks ago and when I asked a friend, someone who I definitely don't see enough, how life was treating him, he replied, "Up and down." Isn't that the truth?
I have always been a melancholic person, with manic swings. What I've gotten better at, throughout the years, is recognizing that the downs, like the ups, don't last, and I just have to breathe deep and stay in the moment. Otherwise I panic and well, nothing good ever comes out of that.

The weekend before I held two readings, back to back and I am very happy with the results. On Friday I was accompanied by Deodato Sequir on stage and I can feel, experience even, that the presentation is getting stronger and stronger. On Saturday I shared the stage with an electric bass (thanks to Martin Olliviere from Shine) and it really worked. This work is developing and I am really enjoying the creative process. I love this process: this is what I live for and what keeps me sane.

Work continues to challenge and amaze me. I love being a teacher. I love that I earn my money by having to improve myself.

I'm gearing up to move into my new apartment on the 1st July. I love my present apartment, and will be sad to leave, but time for change, and better yet-- my new apartment will be mine (well, technically the bank's, but you know what I mean).
I presently live in a neighborhood called Østerbro, a neighborhood I used to make fun of years ago but after living here, I have to say I have come to appreciate the quiet and the space. I've had a tremendous time in this apartmen, a calm and and serenity maintained that is much-needed.

Now I'm off to a more colourful and dynamic neighborhood, one where I will continue to raise my son and experience all the intricacies of life. I hope this new apartment serves me as well as the present, but it should 'cause hey, where ever you go, there you are, and when it comes to making homes, I've become quite good at it.
My creative writing is beckoning: old stories, never forgotten but tucked away return to me in my dreams. I am a writer, first and foremost, and it is this that sustains me.
farvel,
the lab

On Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

The Profit, by Kahlil Gibran

Leah Napoloeon Russell...

Where art thou?
Too long babes,
way too long.

On the subject of Dopeness...

How cool is it that the White House hosts poetry readings? Click here for more:
http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/05/12/jammin-in-the-east-room/

Susan Cadogan-It Hurts So Bad (this song is dope!)