Bedtime Reading


 

A habit I acquired years ago, perhaps even during my childhood, is reading just before I go to sleep.  Picking the right books remains key unless you want to stay up half the night either reading or thinking about something horrifying or depressing you’ve read. Lately, my reading has not been conducive to sweet dreams.  Earlier this week I finished Among the Ruins, an Iranian mystery of sorts, by Ausma Zehanat Khan.  It’s fiction but one of the characters writes letters from prison which are anything but cheery.  Now I am reading the Pulitzer Prize winner, The Return.  Since Hisham Matar never saw his father again after he was captured and hauled off to a Libyan prison, sleep inducing it is not.  Last night I decided perhaps for bedtime I needed to find something not exactly boring but somewhat less stimulating.  It may take me all summer given that The Silk Roads, A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan is 505 pages.  If I get bored with that, I can go back to two books I reread off and on and save for bedtime reading, When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams and Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, Selected Works translated by Edith Grossman.  Both inspire reflection and contemplation.  For those who do not know Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz, she lived in Mexico in the 1600s.  She became famous for her intellectual capacity, her poetry, and was referred to as “the Phoenix of Mexico” when women rarely rose to such heights.

What are you reading this summer?

 

Currently: Eagerly Anticipating #Akefest16 in Abeokuta


For those who want to explore movies, musicians, and writers many of you may never have heard of, here is a lengthy list with photos.

Kinna's avatarKinna Reads

It’s 1pm and I’m planning my trip to Abeokuta – I leave on Wednesday.  Yessss, the 2016 edition of Ake Arts and Book Festival is loading…. I’m so excited, I have butterflies, the pit of my stomach is always warm because

That is me up there, scheduled to host a book chat with NoViolet Bulawayo and Jennifer Makumbi!  Ms. Makumbi is the author of Kintu, which qualifies as the most recent addition to my all time list of favorite African fiction ever. I’m so stoked.😆😆😆.

I will also moderate this:

Laila Lalami, fellow book lovers!

Finally, I’m also on this:

It’s all very glorious!

#AkeFest16 comprises 12 panel discussions, including:

(I get to meet Sarah Ladipo Manyika (InDependence) finally…

9 Book chats such as:

Also on the schedule are film screenings, a play and a concert:

Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o will headline. In boxing parlance, he is the…

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The Community Bardic Exercise Revisited: Body, Land, Tribe Poetry by Kate Brunner


An inspiration to write a poem every day for seven days, release negativity, be yourself no matter what others say or do.

Bones


Isabella

 

The bone is big, more than eighteen inches long.  Isabella–

wolf, German shepherd, blue heeler, 80 pounds, lies in cool,

emerald, native grass, gnawing.  What kind is it?  From where?

Half hour hiking cross canyon, through junipers, tall grass, searching.

Nothing.

One week later, while driving through the gate, I see the neighbor’s

black lab gnawing on identical bone.  Surprised, puzzled, I wonder

if it’s the same bone.  After running the eighth mile back to my house,

I find the old bone, three pieces scattered in the grass.  Not the same.

Neighbor tells me he hiked, searched.

Nothing.

 

no dead animal smell

meat scraps stuck to bone

we will never know

 

 

Modern Literature


Gaden’s quiet.  Normally he is shouting, asking questions to which he knows the answers.

I’m thinking, “He must be sick.”

Today he is sitting quietly, feet splayed out, short ginger hair sticking out exactly like Alfalfa’s, chin balanced on his left hand, staring at the silver Apple laptop open on his desk.

We’re reading modern stories in English, stories by Kelly Link, Kevin Barry, Adam Marek, Sarah Hall, Jon McGregor, Jennifer Egan.

Ghosts, robot boyfriends, fake lovers, bull semen distributors.

Astonished reactions, “We get to read adult stories with cuss words!”

They’re seniors in high school, 17, 18, 19.

Two are pregnant; one’s a dad.

 

 

The Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos


For years I had read and heard about this place, even attended a lecture by a descendent of one of her frequent guests who actually knew her when he was a child.  This past weekend good friends from Rociada took me there with my best friends from college years, friends from long ago, visiting from California.

I already knew something about Mabel and her friends, famous people who frequented her salon, created the artistic mystique that still hangs over Taos.  When I returned home, I wanted to know more.  Born into Buffalo, NY, high society, she had been married and widowed by the age of 23.  As a young woman she was openly bisexual; her memoir, “Intimate Memories”, provides a frank discussion of this part of her life.  Several years after her first husband’s death, she married the architect Edwin Dodge.  They lived near Florence, Italy, for seven years where she entertained such notables as Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas, and Andre Gide.  After affairs and two suicide attempts, she separated from her husband and moved to Greenich Village.  Eventually, she married her third husband, the painter Maurice Sterne and became a patron of the arts.

In 1917, she and her husband moved to New Mexico.  This changed her life; she lived there until she died 45 years later.  She preferred Taos to Santa Fe, finding the latter “too civilized”.  She found New Mexico “alive” and fell in love with Pueblo culture eventually even cutting her hair to mimic Pueblo style.  Sterne did not find New Mexico to his liking and left.  After their divorce she married her long standing love, Antonio Luhan, a Taos Pueblo man.  They remained married 40 years.

Mabel entertained a nearly endless array of famous artists, writers, and intellectuals:  D.H. Lawrence, Georgia O’Keefe, Willa Cather, Ansel Adams, Carl Jung, Emma Goldberg, Margaret Sanger, the founders of the Taos Society of Artists.  She introduced New York and the east coast to New Mexico through her columns in “The New York Journal”.  Mabel died in 1962.

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A view of the main entrance and the largest portion of the house and grounds.

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A small portion of the kitchen.  Cookies, coffee, fruit infused water, and tea were available in the dining room for hotel guests. Books with historical photos lay out for visitors to read in an adjoining room.

Dennis Hopper bought the house in 1970 and recreated her “salon” hippie style.  In 1977, he sold it to George Otero.  Because of years of neglect, it required extensive restoration.  The Oteros turned it into a non-profit where they held workshops.  The Attiyeh Foundation, its current owners, purchased it in 1996 and run it as a hotel and conference/retreat center.  It costs nothing to visit and wander around.

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This photo was taken from the same spot as the first one, looking to the right instead of toward the entrance.

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While standing there, I looked up into that incredible New Mexico sky.

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A close up view of the entrance.

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Look at all the bird houses.

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Beside the kitchen, out a side door–patio and horno (traditional clay oven) shaded from the afternoon sun.

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Friends chit chatting while I wander around taking photos.

For more details, go to:   http://www.mabeldodgeluhan.com.  This includes history, accommodations, workshops, etc.  The accommodations portion even tells the site visitor who slept in each room when visiting Mabel.

 

 

 

Saturday Night


Read two pages,

“Ghana Must Go”.

The wife’s Nigerian,

Yoruba, Igbo.

She sells flowers,

not in Nigeria.

The author’s name

Ethiopian?

Sip zinfandel

flowered glass.

Take a bite

chocolate filled

peppermint,

lick peppermint

fingers.

Read two pages:

“Africans…the indifference of the abundantly blessed…

who can’t accept, even with evidence, that anything native,

occurring in abundance, is exceptional without effort,

has value.”

Does anyone?

 

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Poem for Today


Inspired by a friend’s poem, I decided to take a look at some of my book stacks and write a poem from their titles–in honor of National Poetry Month.

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Now Is the Time to Open Your Hearts

the tongue’s blood does not run dry

The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love

A Simple Havana Melody

Alejandro Blue

The Spirit of Indian Women

Still Life With Bread Crumbs

Ring of Fire

Gardens in the Dunes

Daughters of Fortune

The Way to Paradise

The Bingo Palace

Uppity Women

How We Became Human

Close Range

Native Guard

Things Fall Apart

Gone Home