Friday, August 29, 2008

Phoenix and The Valley of the Sun




I'm in Phoenix.
Feeling a little tired. Been traveling or on my way to traveling or being in transit most of the day.
Here we are!
In Phoenix, or rather now Tucson, some miles south of Tucson.


And this is my first time in the Southwest and I love it. Maybe this state of being a little tired will not shelter the excitement and sheer pleasure and wonder at arriving at this place. Somehow I knew I would like it. It is amazing and quite different from the terrain and landscape of Memphis and the Mid-South, the Delta. Wide. Open. Sky. Clouds like one would not believe. And just this openness and this feeling.






That will likely return again tomorrow as we head out to Patagonia (AZ, not the famed of one in Chile)
San Francisco area was somewhat like this, though different. The pace of life feels different. We were stretching down I-10 just as easy, and my mother remarked something to the effect of this doesn't feel like the interstate, the pace of it you know.


Looking at a place with new eyes. Plopping down somewhere you have never been and opening your eyes, opening yourself, your senses to what lies around you. "There's something there."


And there is so much around you here.

Simply because there's so little, there's so much space. You are enfolded in that space, not like a pillowcase or smothering, but by the sheer awesomeness of the sky and the space reaching around, the sky, and reach-ing around you.


Setting yourself down in a place you have never been. And too with traveling, sometimes there are just places you will love, that speak to you, or that you speak of, or whatever conglomeration of speaking.
Oh shoot, and then you just feel so grateful to be there. Man, sometimes I'll reach a place and just be so grateful to be there, it'll just fill me. To physically be there, in this place, with this/these people/person, at this exaxt moment. To be there. And then when you are that grateful you just have to sit with it. Man, you know when something is so good, you just have to sit with it. Can't do nothing else. You already got it.

That's how I felt last week in Washington. Got to chill and take a space and some time with some extraordinary people and friends of mine. Jillian White (Wes 08), native of that area and my girl Kyja from Spelman daze ( we both began fall 04 and ending up trucking it out of Atlanta after the first year ( for all it gave us and the friends). My dude Austin Purnell (Wes 08), got to chill with him and his family for a bit. His awesome filmmaker sister Tara Purnell. Both of them doing amazing things ( More on that in a lil bit).


Oh and word of word got to reconnect with some old Spelman and Morehouse buddies Ashli and Hyon making themselves a life. And bringing themselves up a new life. Bringing up baby!

But Whoa. Flashback. Reconnection. Memory. So much love and appreciation. Knowledge that Spelman, that time, and the people, the people, the sights, the scenes were not an illusion, but that I was there and witnessed these beautiful people, these beautiful people doing their thing. All of our multi-faceted and multi-farious things. And all finding ourselves, coming to that process in so many ways. Creating together in time and space.


Days walking back and forth across spelman, over into Morehouse terrain, down Lee Street, that gates. Those gates of Spelman. Daze. Days.

Man, and these two were seniors when I was a freshman, so.. geesh.. without them even knowing prolly, man I was so emotional to see these two, like almost tearing up at the appreciation. Man! We represent and are so much. It was almost like coming home to a memory that for a long time was in your head. ( I've been Wesleyan rolling for the past 3 years. )

But for real .Slick looking up to those two and other ones then, and still thinking of them now. Slick meaning. meaning.

I'd post some pictures of those Spelman Days, but most all of them are from my film, pre-digital era. Soon soon.

But... Phoenix. AZ. Or Arizona. More soon. Or rather lots more. There are a couple of posts I've had pushing at my mind. On the assembly line.
With heart. With love.

INTISAR

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Buggin OUT!

AhhhhhAHHHHH!

my girl Isa Nakazawa ( Wes '08)
at bugginout.wordpress.com

words. words. words. no words for it.

can we talk about words?

word.

-i

Interstitial- I have a fondness for the interstitial

In between places are places.

-Martha Jane Kaufman, Wesleyan' 08

I was thinking about this quote just now. Jane said this in a conversation with me, just about some 2 years ago now. And a few days after I scribbled it all across a full page in my journal. And I thought about it, because it made so much sense to me in so many many ways. And it rings with something, some kind of promise of finding, and the filling, the purpose of almost everything. To me it talks about space, the space we move in and the space we go to, the places and spaces and people and moments we reside in and those we think about, dream about. the getting there. the going. the coming. the being around, just the being around ourselves. This state of moving-movement and flux and choice, once again a life. Martha Jane is a moverdancerchoreographer- or at least that's just one part of the many words I can use to describe her. Or maybe those are just things she does.She probably knows more or even different words, but.. yeah
I was just thinking about that.
The promise of the in between, how those too are full. can be..

I

Monday, August 25, 2008

DC Metro

LiFE.

Just got back from washington, dc.

-i

Monday, August 18, 2008

NW0896 NYC-KENNEDY - DETROIT




made it

Live Update: JFK to neverneverland




I spoke to a friend of mine on the phone a few days ago who told me I was getting a little spare with the posts. And it's true. I admit.

So in honor of.. the absence. the reasons of which I might expand upon later.. here's a random live update.


I'm posted up in JFK in NY trying to get out of here. This is me as I currently am, hoping to catch this 4:24 flight out to Detroit and then on to Memphis.

Travel. And where the frick we are going! Actually, bodily, physically.
And otherwise
metaphorically
symbolically
along the twisting journey of our lives


and here I sit in limbo land.
There's something about being in the airport when you seemingly can't get anywhere.

You begin to question some of the basic assumptions of your life.
Where am I going?
What do I do when I am sitting here?
Should I read a book, pick up Paoulo Coelho's "The Alchemist?" for 12.99 or something like that.

Should I muse? Where should I go?
I tried to get a flight out to Portland as well. Then contemplated going to Washington. Then seemed to run up against some roadblocks, but then after that happens sometimes you have to do other things. And maybe that sounds vague, but that's what it is. Not knowing sometimes where you are going. Then
just taking control of whatever it is .. a tension a partnership between being free and being in control.

I don't know where I'm going yet.
I would like to leave New York.

But then.. ( and she ponders the possibilities double time and over and up again)
there can be power in not having the answer..

you find you have to push past the answers you would come up with normally.
Maybe you'll do something you've never done before.
Maybe you will come up with a new solution.
Or a new question.

But yea.. yea..

invention?

Friday, August 15, 2008

here i am

manhattan.
bronx.
tomorrow new hampshire
vermont
onto
maine