“A dreaded sunny day
So let’s go where we’re happy
And I meet you at the cemetry gates”
For my outlaw father and brother in laws ... Sikh - Mount Everest like tasting notes : We stood at the foot of the volcano; a towering eminence of tightly packed fruitcake and sticky toffee pudding, and gazed up towards the bellowing clouds of pork crackling infused smoke. Climbing onto the back of a giant duck and gripping the leather reins we began our ascent with the spicy smell of nutmeg, clove and cinnamon becoming heavier as we advanced. The ground shook as figs, dates and roasted chestnuts were blasted high into the sky and rivers of molten toffee passed nearby. Sipping export strength navy rum to steady our nerves we bravely continued further towards the summit passing boulders of macadamia nuts, honeycomb and salted chocolate.
Conversations with René Girard, by Cynthia L. Haven (ed.), reviewed by Chris Fleming at the Los Angeles Review of Books.
as a bruise from too many years of too much explaining. Want to sink my mind into another kind of rising, which is a deeper form of rest, by remembering everything and everyone that got us here. Today I want to remember how we see the ones that came before, how we carry them on our backs and on our shoulders. In our arms. How the past remains a deep and bleeding wound in the present. And yet, a balm. Strange how we know this—that we have survived and continue to survive because as artists and activists, as storytellers and change-makers of all kinds, we know that no matter how crazy and deadly a moment seems, we continue to stare the future down in order to show the way to it. And like the visionaries gathered here—among them, the writers Nikole Hannah-Jones, Isabel Wilkerson, and Colson Whitehead; the activist-creators Ava DuVernay and Killer Mike; the cofounders of Black Lives Matter; and the congressional foursome known as the Squad—we will keep on keeping on.