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I was born a child of the revolution. Conceived in Havana to my Sephardic father and my Louisiana mother, I was briskly flown to Miami to be born because Fidel Castro had marched into Havana in March 1959, two months before my due date. For 55 years, I’ve lived in a country that has refused to recognize the suffering of the Cuban people and instead upheld an embargo to make sure they suffered even more…
Hanukkah The story of Hanukkah is the story of religious freedom. In 168 BC King Antiochus (pronounced an TIE uh kus) the 4th, who inherited his kingdom from Alexander the Great, set up an idol in the Jewish temple and ordered Jews to worship it. He was a zealous Hellenist and wanted all people to follow Greek ways. A revolt led by Mattathias and his son Judah the Maccabee to overthrow Antiochus raged with the…
Evan Christopher, Tin’s godfather, composed songs as interpretations of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s paintings on display at the Ogden Museum for Prospect 3. We went to the Ogden last night to hear Evan and his band play and we were treated to one after another phenomenal arrangement. The night provided a good bridge to Tin’s nascent interest in both music and art – he told me later he expected to have his own gallery where he would…
I said to a younger friend the other day that there will come a time in her life when she will be through looking for the perfect partner, the husband, the boyfriend, the man who will ask her on a date, or the end all be all that is supposed to arrive with all the answers. Instead, she will open her arms to a lover. I’ve watched my lover up close and from afar –…
I can never finish my Sunday New York Times so I have just gotten used to the fact that I will read it all week. It’s the product of having a young child (and a puppy). So today, Friday, I learned from last Sunday’s Times that Mark Strand had passed at 80 years old. And I’m just sitting with that right now. Lines for Winter Tell yourself as it gets cold and gray falls from…
My mom died five years ago today (Nov 30), she would have been 79 years old on December 28th, but she did not make it to her 74th birthday. When she was the age I am now, my father had been dead for five years and she was still adjusting to an unmarried life and empty nest. She was a natural beauty both inside and out, but fear had held her back most of her…
This year marks a turning point for me, although there is still a lot to clean up from the last two years of thinness. I celebrated recently by driving to Lafayette and buying an old cypress pew from an old church there. The pew is nearly 12 feet long and it barely fit across my truck. But I drove there, bought it, and drove it home. It fit perfectly in the dining room and what…
I dreamed last night about Sty and I woke this morning with a groggy clarity that was colored in orange and red hues of sadness. Sty so sweet – so sexy – so present and giving – and yet I cannot give him what he wants from me. Not now maybe not ever. And so he has answered the siren’s call to head out to another gig, in another town, and I am moving on.…
I saw two things yesterday that taught me about the human spirit. Brandan Odums Prospect 3 installation ExhibitBE where graffiti artists have turned an abandoned project on the West Bank into an urban wonderland complete with feeling – people gathered in music and awe to gaze at the talents of street artists’ handiwork. The next was Gomela, a Junebug production that helped us “return with movement to our mother tongue” – a masterpiece of theater,…