Friday, 27 March 2020

Oh, those vain poets.

Dear Kim,

I just done read you' thoughts about the role o' art in these here troubled times:

https://kimayres.blogspot.com/2020/03/a-call-to-action.html

Me can't believe that we got people who feel that art is a frivolous past-time, that it unnecessary right now. They couldn't be more wrong.

I must say though, negative people does serve a good purpose. They stop we in we tracks, make we take a second look at we role as creative people.

Look, a quick thought from me:

Art is the language for those who can't find the words, for all who need release. It helps us to dig our way out of the dark self, the frightened self, to seek a way out of it, to find that light we all so need in good times and bad.

I'm busy reaching out to people in Guyana, they are so scared...what with the virus and the threat of dictatorship looming.

I'm so busy trying to calm others, I almost forgot to calm myself.

Art helps me. I must sit still and think.

Dear Reader, if you passing through this space, or if you visiting Kim, share you' thoughts, nah?



Monday, 23 March 2020

Love ain't money, you can give away a lot.

Dear People,

I been thinking how, as a creative, cheerful, sunshine-wala, it is me duty to cheer you up.

I must show photos of flowers.

And food.

Lotsa food.

Cats.

Dogs doing clever tricks.

Adorable babies.

I been watching Internet folks being witty, posting jokes on social media with emoticons crying from laughing too much. I share them too, these li'l bits o' candy.

I been watching intellectuals channel they anger and fear into fine, sharp words, to motivate governments to do the right thing for people in this dreadful time.

I must jump on me soapbox too.

And be passionate.

Unleash words that gon get hundreds of likes.

But feeling in me heart that nothing don't get done.

Or maybe, something.

Our leaders might hit the jackpot and everything gon work out lucky.

(Unless they in South Korea, or Vietnam, Singapore, Hong Kong or Taiwan, where they ain't playing, they behaving more like loving parents with discipline).

And we...

...we gon weep 'cause of the arrogance of The Grand Shepherds so careless and callous, look how they fumbling and lost more than the lambs they was supposed to care for.

How they gon write we history, I ain't know.

They gon say what a valiant fight we put up?

They gon say how much money we businesses did lose, but we bounce back?

They gon pat one another backs when is safe to do so again?

Drink champaigne?

Or whatever they drink when they flatter each other?

I ain't know what to do or say to comfort you, dear aching, lonely people...

...you who ain't hip and healthy and young and cool...

...you who others neglect, forget,

you with skin that tell ancient stories, who don't have university words, flowers, pies and pastries to pose online,

stew and other mouth-watering

Things.

I ain't know what to say to comfort you, but believe you me, I love you and wish I could hug you too.

Saturday, 15 February 2020

Welcome weary wanderer.

When this whole world feel like there ain't nothing to be joyful about...welcome!

Here, you get heapings o' light and delight!


Book to come later this year, August 11.

In the meantime, see you on your blogs.

Pssst! Y'all can spot the monster in the picture? Hint...no, it ain't the parrot.

Sunday, 9 February 2020

An old interview.

Hello Everyone!

Howdy-do-dy?

Sundy again, and what a day! Sunny and warm with a cool breeze making them trees go we wish-dis we wish-dat. It did feelin' like one o' them Enid Blyton-days, you know when she describe pixie and fairy village, and when you was a chile, it feel like something different and wonderful?

(I really need to grow up and stop being so childlike or childish, choose the adjective).

Me and Mum been for a walk and coming back, I stare at them sheep-clouds plodding in the blue scene up there, and the sunlight lick me face. I smile wide like the sea, then I think, "Shees, imagine what the people driving by must be thinking."

Me 'n' Ma been proper mellow. Now and then, when the moon full, we does have a li'l misunderstanding, y'know. Tell me who don't. (Between you and me and these four walls, Ma is a Very Stubborn Oldster! Stubborn as a Teenager!). But we don't stay vex for long, thank goodness.

Anyway, I come home, and been going through some old stuff, and find this link, a' interview I do back when we been living in the big ole family home by the sea:

https://globalvoices.org/2005/12/29/a-conversation-with-guyana-gyal/

Ahh, them was days, when blogging was the thing.

I want to go and read blogs, so see y'all soon....



Sunday, 2 February 2020

Au naturel.

My dear friends,

How you all doing?

Yesterday morning, I been thinking how, if I been back home, I woulda been tripsing out with the sunrise to the market.

The morning fresh like the world start over, the sun and dew-in-the-long-grass and birds and earth and everything in between feel like they singing. Hardly any traffic.

At the market, I meet and greet and gyaff (chat) with vendors, and I give change to beggars who, when they collect enough money, buy hot breakfast, complete with tea. One o' them does probably feed he drug habit, but who is me to judge, what if the man is buying food instead?

Going home, I drive into the rising sun sitting in a sky full o' orange and pink, tangerine and grapefruit and peach colours. I does find meself singing loud-loud.

After breakfast, I empty me basket, wash the earth off everything cos, yes, it is produce straight from the soil. Everything come in they own natural skin, not wrap-up in plastic. And too besides, I like to support the market vendors.

That ain't a banana...is a plantain.

One o' me favourite food that I buy is breadfruit. It taste like potato and sweet potato mix-up together. but the texture is not so soft.  You can make chips with the green one, curry with the half-ripe one, pie with the ripe one, milk-shake with the super-ripe one.

Breadfruit!! How me love breadfruit.
If you come to visit me back home, I gon make a good ole-fashion fish-soup like the one I make last week, right here in Merica, for me and Ma. Plenty onion, garlic, celery, yam, sweet potato, potatoes and spinach. And fish, naturally.

SLUUUUURP!!

And for dessert, I would feed you fruit. I hope you don't mind. Honest, we fruit taste like bliss. They gon make you' eyes roll over in you' head in ecstasy.


Sweet, milky star-apple gon drive you wild.

Papaya ripe in the sun.

Sapodilla is like caramel and butterscotch.
As you can see, I like me food all natural, none o' that artificially-inseminated-flavours.

Oh! If you don't like fish soup, I can make something else.

What you like eating?

Tuesday, 7 January 2020

Hammock or chair?

Dear Friends,

You ever, while travelling past homes, get curious and want to know what they got inside?

Confession...hehe sheepish grin...

...when I see the local people photos on social media, I don't look at the people. If the photos is of the people in they homes, I does check out the background.

I want to know what they table look like, what they got on it, how much plastic flowers they got in they living-room, what kinda decoration they put up. I stare at they ceiling...look, look, blue zinc roof, hammock in the kitchen, wow...

...yes, I got insane curiosity about people homes.

So, anyway, I decide that if I's so fass (curious...nosy), you might be too, and I decide to share with you a couple o' things I useta have in me li'l apartment by the sea.

You don't mind leaving you shoes at the door? 

Like I explain in a mo' early post, we leave we shoes at the door. If you squeamish, scroll past while I explain again why...

...them streets got...

squash-up dead frogs
cow pat
horse pat
and I don't mean you pat them on they head
dog poo
mud
man wee on the roadside, ewwww, think of the dust drying on that.

See now why we leave we shoes at the door?

Okay, look we here, right inside the door, sorry, no plastic flowers, only these:

From Ikea. I paste them on the door instead of the wall.


Fresh frangipani on the bookshelf.


More books. And things from other parts o' the world.


Anyway, if you not interested in them-these things, we can gyaff...chat. Everything you tell me, gon stay with me. I gon be like these 3 bears.

I ain't see nothing, I ain't hear nothing, I ain't repeating nothing.

We can sit in the living-room, but most people prefer the verandah.

Like me purple plant from Mars?

If rain start up, we can go into the kitchen and, as the locals say, skin we teeth...laugh-laugh-laugh...while I warm up the food on the stove.

Laugh 'n' gyaff (chat)

Y'all don't pay any attention to this frog here, he always trying to get this lady to kiss he. He ain't turning into no prince. He is me servant, let-we full up he belly with tea and put he in hot water.

What kinda tea you want?


Hungry?
Hold on a sec. while I put some food to eat.


Coming up...food....




Tuesday, 20 August 2019

On the move.

Me Dear Friends!

What a tamasha that fall upon me in the middle of the year after two dear friends die.

I been feeling chirpy like them birdies the day the trouble land, I been bright like sun and happy like grass (don't put that in you' pipe and smoke it, 'cause it ain't that kinda grass, and anyway, I can't stand smoke), the Manager-Lady come to see me in me home by de sea. She take off she shoes. She come inside, she sit down. All this she never do before.

She say, Everybody got to leave, we ain't running this place no more.

Ow, people, ow, how me nearly break with fright. Nearly.

The rent all over town is catering to foreigners. Since they find wells of oil in we land of many waters, citizens turn every nook and cranny into Furnished Apartments. Lizard dung pon de window-sill included as decoration.

Ohhhh, the places I did see.

Ohhhhhhh. The packing, the boxes, the work, the tiredness, the sadness, the money it cost to move.

So, there me was, in me new place, trying to create me own li'l space.

Birds sing from dawn 'til dusk, crickets holler, frogs soak in de canal and stop calling to one another when I go to watch them, and it got big garden with a landlord who don't mind me gardening.

Then...poof...was time to go be with my mother in Florider. And here me is, with she, learning patience all over again.

Now...only now...I can feel the creative spirit moving in me, calling to me to write, to get to work, to put things in place to start with the publishing that been waiting long, so long.

How y'all doing?