You have tried

You have tried

now and then

adia wrote: not heads, just faces april 13, 2009

In sidewalk cracks and florescent puddles, busted spindles stack grief and silence. Violent at the core a snake rises unraveling in a double helix born of war. A blank stare slips and falls into the wrong hands. Crimson bends black across corners in Brooklyn. The blood has been washed away. A new ancestor waits to pass. One on Dean street, the other on Bergen. I went home. The new skyscrapers in Frisco are the most grand tombstones yet. Monuments to my sorrow, they continue to rise cold and gray. Just like Hyphy culture or gentrification. Lol, gentrification. It’s amazing how such a big word happened in such little time. Overcast like Karnaval, lightning continues to strike in my right eyelid. A friend says that’s “a pre- heart attack symptom”, but when aren’t I having one (a heart attack). Crossing the bridge always makes me think about the past. Things always seem better on the other side. For me, it’s really the most certain and confusing thing … black. In Ghana, no one tried to claim me or speculate about what part of Africa my ancestors could be from. There was never recognition without coersion, just a smile in the recovery and precision in the strike. The rattles are still running wild. I’m trying to catch them while I walk the line.

photo: tajeme sylvester

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then and now

adia wrote: the trick september 26, 2009

Now the trick is to make them talk to each other. Once you’ve identified your traditional and contemporary anchors, the next step is to establish clear and practical applications that will communicate your main idea to an audience. Then it’s all about how you make it bump. This whole idea of fusion this and fusion that is great, but if it don’t bump ….?  And, when I say bump, I don’t mean that it has to be “loud” or “fast” or “spectacular” , I just mean all parts of whatever is created need to be placed into a thoughtful conversation that lift the piece up and out. That’s when the artistry of what we do, the tradition and evolution of who we are to become takes off in flight. It really is a gift.

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