Sunday, December 17, 2006


a gathering of Caribbean artists featuring

Ana-Maurine Lara, Carole Metellus,

Courtney Morris, Leo Guevara,

Rebeca Castellanos and Las Krudas

Artwork by Wura-Natasha Ogunji

Last night's Noche Caribena/Caribbean Night at the Rhizome was absolutely wonderful. The energy, love and attention was deeply felt.

We had a lovely spread of food made by the artists, and it was beautiful to eat together. And then the readings, performances and music were powerfully tight and I was especially amazed how folks stood in the space. We had many Caribbean folks in the audience, and it was humbling to have that space happen here in Austin. Humbling, and beautiful and amazing. To be multilingual as a given, to have Caribbean expressions of what it means to cross water, what it means to not be able to. What it means to have family, and what it means to be artists in our own right - here in the lush desert that is beautiful. And what I loved especially is that everyone's work was so, so different in its form, in its content and in its presentation. Rebeca (Suenos de Nebula) had work that's inspired by Greek mythology/physics/self. Carol's work was home and love and family. Las Krudas broke it down (Yo Soy La Gorda, La Gorda Soy Yo) with their theatre and performance critique of societal expectations. And Leo, well, he always starts by saying, "Al fin, yo soy poeta." and he just went into his brilliant work about his wanderings across internal/external landscapes. Courtney - girl - you took us there in her work about memory and exile. And then the lovely MC Wura who made us all feel at ease.

And, oh how incredible to have children running around the space. That is special and yet doesn't need to be. I want to thank the children for being there, and the parents for bringing them cause we wouldn't be complete without them.

After folks left, and Wura and Carole and I were cleaning up, a few folks streamed in, hoping to catch the tail end of the event. We could only say that we hope it happens again, and that they can catch us then.

I send thanks to all who came last night and made that space happen. And, I also want to extend a thank you to the folks who kicked off this beautiful month of December by coming to the Resistencia reading/drumming. For some reason, it feels continuous, this "ola/wave". Thank you for supporting my work, and for allowing community to happen in languid moments of warmth, words and music.

May our paths soon cross again.

peace and love

1 comment:

Isabel Espinal said...

"what it means to cross water, what it means to not be able to"

Those words really resonate with me.