BKLYN sweatbox.
what’s up world — chillin’ with a glass of watermelon lemonade, hoping that i’m not gonna clothesline anybody with my freakin’ electric cord at this here cafe. it is a humid sweaty disgusting and glorious mess in brooklyn right now, ai-yuh…been a little bit more grasshopper than ant lately, so gettin’ back to the do it to it this week, but it’s been fun, ha!
taking a ‘lil hiatus during the summer months (will be doing a few shows here and there) to just kick it and get my solo show, screenplay, and poetry manuscript done this summer before my heavy touring season hits again in the fall. so a lot of planting, sowing, tending, growing…so yup, grrowr, WATCH OUT, ha!
to be present in the writing process every time i come to the laptop or the page. like honor, like prayer, like celebration, like love. an intimate meeting with the page, the word, the self, the world, the heart, to just sit with it and not turn away, to not be afraid of what i will or won’t find. (understanding more than anything, i write with my heart, smear it on the page all messy and unrefined and that’s the gift, the blessing of it — intellect and technician be damned, they don’t run this mutha’ altho’ they try to, ha!)…lots of happy creative fertility — and i’m much about it…writing for writing’s sake and i like it 
let’s see since i got back from cali…been doin’ the brooklyn summer in a serious way, slow-walking in flip flops and summer skirts down the hot-ass concrete, more dusk ’til dawn booty-shaking, and enjoying the crush of humanity that is new york in the summertime, when everybody comes out looking fly, spirits loose…everyone and everything brilliant, fresh, possible — those nights you wish would last forever. y’know, living
saw “sex and the city” in manhattan (i did wear my heels; i couldn’t resist, i’m a SATC junkie). i’ve never heard so much rampant feminine squealing in a movie theater (or anywhere for that matter), full of gratuitous fashion porn moments (i.e. couture bridal gowns, diva diamonds, and of course, killer stilettos)…but i think it’s ridiculous that the show is criticized for its portrayal of men — ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! not one of the men on the show is a prostitute or has turned up dead, which would be the case for probably 90% of the portrayals of women in pop culture throughout human history.
other snippets of the last two weeks — note to people of non-asian descent: when trying to relate to an asian person, try normal conversation like “hi, how are you? what’s your name? what do you do?” vs. rhapsodizing poetic about how much you love wushu/qigong/buddhism/studied for 90 years at the shaolin temple with sifu yaddayaddayadda, etc. — this happened to me at least FOUR TIMES in the last week. i understand that others may be excited about meeting an asian person and sharing all their random (and largely irrelevant to my lived daily reality of my culture as an asian person) knowledge about asia with said asian person, but believe me, non-asian-related conversation works just as well, thanks.
whoa, where’d my happy summer vibe go? ha! anyhoo, YAY! for barack finally getting the party nomination. thank goodness…more on that next blog, and also went to see the brown girls burlesque tribute (myspace.com/browngirlsburlesque) in honor of prince’s 50th birthday, which was saucy, scandalous, and downright brilliant.
got to go to the gnarls barkley show at irving plaza last night, which was a MIRACLE. i felt so integrated, like any separation in my body and spirit completely dissolved, any separation in the world at all — it was so hot in there, that cee-lo took his shirt off, but yes, he and danger mouse are nothing short of genius. the music (above any or all persona or marketing or media hype), plain and simple, was the healing, the salvation, the star. missed opening act janelle monae but caught battles who were raw and rocked the hell out of the spot…
okey smokey…back to poetry…
superkells