book love

wench... that's the book i went into the library looking for.  it's my book club selection for the month and as i always do, i read it close to the meeting time because i'm a procrastinator so i can remember the details.

i bought the last book we read (the other wes moore) and while i enjoyed it, buying books is not my thing.  libraries are funded to buy books and they offer free lending privileges.  i support local libraries.  it's funny though... sharing is not one of my strengths. i don't like sharing good food (especially a delicious chunk of chocolate cake), i am a little freer with sharing my money, strongly opposed to sharing a man! but i find joy in being able to share books.

i scan the "new book" shelves.  i don't see wench but i do remember the book that i saw on my last visit and decide to pick it up.  i know the title.  i know the authors.

it's not on the "new book" shelves as it was the last time i was here but i am not thwarted.  i know where they keep the mystery fiction and i head to those shelves but for some reason i can't remember the author's name.  in my mind i'm saying "he's that dude on the cover of essence for this month, that dude from "in treatment", damn! he's married to my old co-worker's sister - something dacosta.  i know the names of the co-authors - tananarive due and her hubby steven barnes - but i know the book will be under his name. damn!"  i say the title out loud from capetown with love and like magic his name slips off of the tip of my tongue...

blair underwood

i almost did a two-step when i found the book on the shelf with the call number MYSTERY FIC U (U for underwood) as i knew it would be and i quickly head to the self check-out.  i read the other 2 books in tennyson hardwick series - casanegra and in the night of the heat and after reading the last mystery fiction by walter mosley known to evil, i am still in the mood...

i skipped and/or levitated to the train heading home.  as soon as i found a comfortable place to stand :-( i opened the book.  i liked it instantly.  after the dedications, after the quotes, there is a suggested mp3 soundtrack list in the book.  what?!?!  good music to go with my reading pleasure!  i smiled.

maxwell, jill scott, the o'jays, sy smith, marvin gaye, alicia keys, india arie and other artists are suggested - i'm hyped and as i turn page one of the prologue, i notice that the pages are stuck... usually that's repulsive - not knowing what was on the previous reader's fingers but in this case the pages are stuck because it appears as if this book is NEW.

it may not seem like much but i treasure the little things... and for me this lightly read/new book sitting on the shelf of the busiest circulating library in the city is a small fortune.

Mr. Hill Harper

One day... a number of years ago... me and DC (my sister-girlfriend) were sitting in D.allas B.BQ, the one on 72nd Street, near The Dakota, a famous New York landmark... also well known as the residence of John Lennon. As we sat eating, the waiter comes over and asks us the name of the actor who was seated behind us. Quickly we twisted our necks and what came out of of mouths was more than his name but a chant, that is now burned in our brains....

Hill Harper, Hill Harper,
Hill Harper

Also known to me and DC as the Hill Harper song...

Then he was an actor on City of Angels and starring in movies such as "In Too Deep" but Hill is currently making his mark as an inspirational speaker and author, not to mention playing the part of Dr. Sheldon Hawkes on CSI: NY.

I admire Hill... Along with being an accomplished actor, he has a JD and an MPA but chooses to act and to bring awareness to the issues of young people, encouraging them through his publications. I am anticipating his new title... The Conversation: How Black Men and Women Can Build Loving, Trusting Relationships to be released on September 8, 2009.

Stop The World

For the past few weeks I have been extremely frustrated with my life. At this age and season of my life, I imagined things would be different for me… husband, 2.5 children, my own home, 2 cars, the picture perfect existence. Instead of me owning my life as it is, I’ve been asking myself “what if” questions, wondering if, somewhere through my twists and turns, did I take a wrong spin and mess everything up?

I imagine myself like the half earthling, half alien Evie in the 80s TV show Out of This World with the ability to stop and restart time… I’d go back to 1998 and begin again… or like Michael Newman in the movie Click, armed with a universal remote… I can stop, start, rewind and fast forward time… But the problem with both of these characters is that… they are both fictional and even if I could press one button and stop time, I’d be missing precious moments, memories, intricate pieces of life.

During one of my early heartbreaks, I climbed in my bed, pulled the covers over my head and allowed sleep to overtake me. I remember it being cloudy outside when I went to sleep but when I awoke many hours later it was sunny, my mother had gotten up, gone to work, and had returned back home, I missed a day of school and a new day was on the horizon. In my youth I really thought that by pulling the covers over my head I could stop the world but when I uncovered my head it was clear to me that the world never stops no matter how good or bad I may be feeling.

I remember these moments now… but for the past few weeks I’ve caused arguments, been resentful and sometimes evil. But like a bolt, it hit me… Last night I was out with friends, celebrating a birthday. We went to S.O.B.’s, a popular NY club, and it was salsa night… in all of my years of dancing, I’ve never taken salsa. Surrounded by happy people, dj’ed and live music, delightful drinks and dancing bodies, I gave myself over to the moment and danced. I danced hard and free to Cuban salsa, Jamaican reggae and Brazilian samba. Sure when I got home and turned the key, I greeted my empty abode and there was no one waiting there for me… I choose not to wallow in my circumstances, not to look at my life with regret, not to play “what if” games but to embrace my season right where I am and focus on the richness of my life.

My life is very full… yes I am single and childless but I am employed and I have some financial security. I am open to live, create and recreate as I please. At times loneliness hits me and I long for a companion but being single ain’t bad at all… the agony comes when I’m attempting to not be single.

I choose to let go… to not live in the past with the “what ifs” and no matter how powerful I think I may be, I cannot stop the world. So as the world keeps turning, I am encouraged and strengthened to keep on moving, keep on laughing, keep on achieving, keep on living, keep on loving…

Rereading... Shawne Johnson

I remember when I first bought "Getting Our Breath Back" back in 2004.

I remember reading about Violet, Lilly and Rose, three sisters, and Imani and thinking to myself that I've never read a book with words that flowed like song lyrics, like poetry, with sentences that would have the scribbly lines underneath them if I typed them in MS Word.

I remember 5 years ago when I thought I was happy in a relationship that consisted of us drinking liquor and smoking cigarettes just to have something to talk about.

I remember bringing this book home to read to him and explaining to him how hard it was for me to read it because of the way it flowed, my mind couldn't comprehend it.

I remember how he said, "Yeah that's deep baby", just a response as empty as our involvement.

I remember thinking that if I ever penned a novel, I wanted to write just as eloquently as Shawne Johnson.

It's no coincidence that I picked up this book again after 5 years. It has been my favorite reading of my 20s and one of many favorites now that I'm in my 30s. As I've come to appreciate my sisterfriends, my mothers and just women in general, I so appreciate this work as it speaks of womanhood, of strength, of love, of beauty.

As I'm rereading it now, I am no longer confused by the run of Ms. Johnson's words. I smile each time I read a paragraph such as where Rose is describing to her daughter, Imani, how being pretty doesn't mean much because "...pretty just is. That's all". And then I sit in awe after the Imani chapter because Shawne Johnson has managed to connect a heart with no body to a child with no father.

At least that's my interpretation...

Five years later and I am no longer confused... I can feel where I have matured, how I have learned so much more about myself, how more comfortable I am in my being. I feel how I connect with Violet, Lilly and with Rose. I can feel even more now that I've kicked my bad relationship, smoking and terrible drinking habits.

I'm pretty sure that if I reread this any other time other than this, my eyes would have passed over the words, I would have taken the story in but not like this. Maybe more deeply, maybe surface. I probably would have thought Violet to be weak, judged Lilly harshly and thought Rose too selfish. Or maybe I would identify more with Violet, be empathic of Lilly, and fascinated with Rose. I truly can't say for sure but I know this time I experience that range of feelings.

I always remembered the plot and how the story ends. I remember Lilly and her striking expressions. I remember how each time she speaks, she's poetic and dreamy. I remember the artistic Rose and her gem of a daughter. An even more prominent connection I feel with this story is remembering how Black Power pulses through each passage and each chapter and now in the throws of this inauguration, now as we're facing tough financial times, now when a BART officer murders a young man, we are still need that Power, that power that is sometimes frightened, proud, discouraged, victimized, abused, elevated, celebrated... power that is "like a prayer"... power that is a current, a fuel and a balm for our souls.