I had not planned to do anything today or tonight
but handle biz....pay bills, send off bills, grunt about
how much money I gave to bill collectors, watch Oprah
pay mor bills and attend to chores past due...
But a phone call from my boy Ebon changed all that
Well, I paid the bills but I didn't end up watching
Dateline on NBC. Instead I went the opening for
Chris Ofili's exhibit at Studio Museum of Harlem.
At first we were not sure if we could just walk in...
Sometimes, an artist can be hyped enough where
there's off duty cops or underpaid security manning the door.
Yet, luck was on our side. He arrived first, gave me
the call to head up, and so began the adventure
My main crew was a handful of Trini folks who
were working the room in thier handmade flyness.
A girl who makes these hot snake skin bags, a brother
hired to photograph to beautiful people. Another cat
who was just looking good.
Turns out, he has a calendar featuring the life of carnival.
Then there was my boy Ebon who goes to Trinidad every
year. One day, I'm going there. One day.
Much to my happiness my roommate followed
a half hour later. Everybody was there! Faces I
know. Faces I had no idea whom I was cheesing at.
Men I've had crushes on for decades and they still
ain't giving a sista the time of day...
They'll say hi but that's all...
In any case, heads were out. Greg, Apollo Heights,
Mista Man Mikhal, Satch, Beth Coleman, Che Stackhouse
...and an old boy from back back back...way back
in the days...Jamil. Wow. He's still fine for a white boy.
I can't really comment on the art. I did see it, and
it was wonderful but to get a full fledge review,
I'll need to visit when there aren't any fly ass
black people around
Oh, did I mention Joe Legend and Beth Harddison?
Overall, the show was a success.
Afterwards, we snunk into the after party which
wasn't that hard to get in. Open bar! Two beers and
one glass of wine. Happy Happy Joy Joy!
I'm sooooo not a drinker.
We parlayed for a while there talking about
art and needs to change motives and directions in our craft
Me and Jamil had an interesting convo. Made me
want to see his photogrpahy badly
Lately, I've been more interested in critquing
art work. It's a great world in dig into and attempt
to dissect. Of course, it's the artist who always
knows the intention...but it's fun to guess and
discover items the artist may have not realized
Note: I don't want to see his work because
I think he's cute mind you... I havne't seen his
work point blank. I can't really understand
the jibber much without seeing it.
There were some folks I have less interest in
speaking. Sorry, it's the Harlem in me.
Play me like a sucka and you don't have to
bother getting attention from me ever.
Call me a hata but I'm too old for phony ass
smiles. My shit is genuine.
The night ended with a ride home.
Me, Jamil, Ebon, and this Trini gal
who's name I can't remember...sorry mama!
Old mix tapes from the days and hugs
and later's.
My last words to the posse?
"I'll see you in Trinidad next year!"
