Tribute to the Ancestors

About a week ago, I went to the Tribute to the Ancestors of the Middle Passage in Coney Island, partly for work and partly because I was interested. I've been doing events for Black Brooklyn Renaissance since February, but this was the first time I ever went to something that I could tell was fueled by anger rather than appreciation. The white guilt started creeping up on me as I listened to the words that these people spoke about the multitudes of people that died in the slave trades--but never for a moment did I feel unwelcome. It was a weird juxtaposition between being an outsider and being accepted as a part of the group that gathered on the Boardwalk to pay tribute to all the people that died in the middle passage.

On a slightly more self-satisfying note, BAC published six of my photos on the website (the first six in the slide show) here.

Keats

I just want to be in love with John Keats right now. I know it's wrong to moon over a guy that died almost two hundred years ago, but after watching Bright Star twice this weekend, there's no hope of salvation. I'm in love with the fictitious Keats that they portray in the movie, despite his skinniness. He wrote the most beautiful letters to her, and then died on the Spanish steps in Rome. Despite living with four boys, a love of horrible action movies, and an unabashed ability to burp louder than my roommates, I am a sucker for these period romantic movies. Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, man I could watch those movies forever. For fear of my roommates swallowing cyanide halfway through, I have to watch them when I'm alone in the apartment, which is almost never. Somehow I managed to squeeze Bright Star in twice in the last three days, but that's because I was up at ungodly hours due to the sweltering heat.

A moment to pay homage to John Keats' poetry: I think Wordsworth is boring, Coleridge had a better idea, but for some reason Ode to a Nightingale has always caught me. Romantic poetry isn't my thing (poetry in general, actually), but Keats was always different. Maybe there's the aura of death that invades all of his poetry, but it's always haunted me. He died at the age of 25 believing that he failed as a poet, but today there are girls like me that go melty on the inside when they read his works, especially his letters.

Swooning in progress.

Documenting the West Indian Parade

Most people who live in Brooklyn know about the West Indian American Labor Day Parade because it's one of the biggest parades in the United States. I lived on Staten Island for four years, and the first I heard about this massive parade was when I started doing research on it for my internship.

The costumes for this parade are ridiculous---some of them are almost as tall as the buildings around it. Some photos are here. The reason I have this parade on my mind, despite it being two months away, is because of an event I'm working tonight. We're talking about documenting the parade and blah, but the reason I'm excited is because some of the costume makers will be there. A long time ago I dreamed of being a costume designer, before I realized that I'm far too impatient to spend the rest of my life picking out stitches.

I'll be finishing out my day in Flatbush, an area I have yet to really explore. Speaking of, we're doing this event at the Flatbush branch of the Brooklyn Public Library, which will soon be experiencing HUGE budget cuts. A lot of kids use the library to stay out of trouble, especially during the summer. The librarian we spoke to was so upset she could barely talk about it. Seems like the budget cuts around here are hurting the kids more than anyone.

one

I'm not quite sure what I'm going to be doing here yet--but the main reason I thought to start this thing up is because of my internship, and the 3000 mile distance between where I'm currently living and my hometown. I'm working on making that distance even greater through my application to the PeaceCorps (I'm about 40% through the process). Right now I'm living in Bay Ridge in Brooklyn, with five other people and a cat in a three bedroom apartment. The most interesting part of my life is my internship with the Brooklyn Arts Council, (and no, they don't know I'm writing this blog), and I attend/work some events that I think a lot of people should know about. Something important about me: I was born and raised in Huntington Beach, CA. Besides hosting the US Surfing Open and various Paintball tournaments, owning the featured pier in every Hollister across the country, my greatest discovery of HB's contribution to mankind is the filming location for Surf Nazis Must Die, one of the best worst movies I've ever seen (it even beat out the Horrors of Spider Island, my previous #1). I just graduated with a B.A. in English, so this in part an exercise to keep me writing while I figure out what I want to do with my degree, if only appreciate it as it hangs on the wall.