Thursday, September 25, 2008

+ What We Live For

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9/23/08 9:23pm Journal Entry

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Text message exchange #45,603

From: Baraka
To: Mama

Remind me what we live for

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From: Mama
To: Baraka

poetry love roadtrips adventure rhythm song dance love light sweat sun warmth divine moments transcendance

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From: Baraka
To: Mama

you got me

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It's been a whirlwind, but what is new? I'm sitting in a theater in the Mission. Anthem is brilliantly directing a play that opens tomorrow night and we are watching the runs. He stops the actors mid-sentence, prompting them to see and feel, to breathe real life into the work. He is tough but gently delivers the critiques. I'm impressed. And learning. The play is about Philippino-Americans returning to their homeland and what transpires from each individual experience. I am happy to catch the sneak preview, just us in the cavernous space.

Sitting here, it's overwhelming to try and make sense of the familiar juncture I'm lingering at. Magic here, home there. I realize they need not be mutually exclusive but it's enough to make one's logical mind into a funny animal with big bad sharp teeth. Yesterday I boarded the bus to Oakland at 9:30am to drop my bag at B&D's and see where the day shifted me to. A text arrives at 9:45 from V. I remember his promise to show me his paintings, but I am consistently surprised by the non-flakiness of people here and agree to a noon showing. (New Yorkers, you could reallly learn a thing or two from Cali. I'm including myself in this lecture.) I spend the morning hours sharing Sophie-moments in the kitchen with Baraka before boarding BART to Richmond where V, full name Vovito, meaning "little Grandpa" in his native tongue but don't tell him I told you as he usually pretends he doesn't know what it means when asked, is waiting in his red pick up truck. The vehicle has a dent on top where a sign post fell on the roof, where, as he says "Jah blessed" by saving his skull. He reminds me of an amalgamation of characters from my past, and though Mozambique is not close to Ghana on the map, he says the "ohhh yah!" that was signature of David.


















His spirit is large and his home full of instruments, as he shares the space with the bassist of the "best reggae band in the Bay area." (Is there much competition? Who knows!) We crack open a beer in the back yard and share our passions. I read him some poems and get brave, playing a song on the guitar. "Bloodclot," he says, "who ARE you?" Tells me where to visit in Brazil, Jamaica, Portugal, where to find the authentic experience, as if these places were already on the travel map. I am not surprised to hear his favorite painter is Basquiat. His work is original but reminiscent of SAMO, gorgeous abstractions on canvas and I am genuinely impressed. He plays me a bit of djembe, choosing one of six drums, and, of course, laughs. After sometime sharing, we leave to grab a meal to complete the vibe with full bellies, stopping off at Kapur's house in Berkley.

And Kapur's house in Berkley... wooooo the view of San Francisco is unreal and V jokes that Kapur needs to get a woman to share a glass of wine with window side. "Please find me one!" Kapur begs, his Nepal accent pushing the laughter off his tongue. It seems we have arrived at the right time. Kapur offers us a delicious home cooked meal, spicy enough to make the sinuses run wild and I run to the bathroom repeatedly to blow the lingering cold outta my face. Home-remedy #30 noted. V urges me to tell the story of my septum ring. Inspired, Kapur says, "I want to get plugs in my ears." We look at each other, shrug, ok, and presto, we're shoved into the red truck down the Berkley hills to Telegraph, which, it must be said, is where I'd hang all the time should I ever find myself a resident of the area. Twenty minutes later and Kapur is wincing, his red ears a adorning a much fatter hole than before. We crash a small ball game on the park court (it only took me three shots to score, Yeow! For me, that's amazing.) V drops me off at the BART station with blessings and I came home to my loves.

















































I am too tired to write about the rest but let me say this: LOTS of episodes of the hilarious 30Rock (this show is unbelievably funny) and epic "you have to hear this song!" iPOD hogging/swapping/sharing/rapping and cuddles and hugs and love and love.

PS Look at my rockstars!




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1 comment:

Sallomazing! said...

So fabulously fun! Okay... so when I get home I'll get something pierced or left indelibly on the skin... Now I have like a month to figure out what! Yikes, the pressure. I really need to experience the fullness of my home as an adult. I find that folks who are not native to a place always find the magic in it - hence me to BK. But I think that I could post definitely have that alien-like experience in the Bay as an adult. *sigh* Thanks for keeping me abreast! Besos honey dip.