I'm sitting home alone at 11:16pm on a Friday night, full from another scrumptious dinner at J.'s restaurant, Pagolac, on Larkin near Ellis in SF (yes, I like to plug my friends' businesses!). I was caffeinated from a small coffee I got at La Boheme on 24th where I waited for H. to pick me up, and where a pretty girl with tan jeans and long black hair told me my earrings were beautiful. Always nice to get compliments from strangers, especially when they seem sincere.
It's been a long week, full of the large and small events of life. Late last week, Ossie Davis passed away (see my earlier post), leaving an incredible legacy of activist-artistry in his wake. And then early Tuesday morning, activist and artist BJ Alisago also left behind this mortal coil and joined the ancestors on the other side of the veil.
Some more trivial events: I finally finished reading Garcia Marquez' Love in the Time of Cholera, and started really digging into Nalo Hopkinson's Skin Folk, a collection of speculative fiction stories that are pretty amazing. I got to page 88 in my novel draft, still making green-ink notes in the margins and in between the lines. On Tuesday, we had an action at work to demand more resources for poor schools in communities of color. I finally made it back to Kali class last night, and remembered how good it feels to move my body in these ancient ways, to flow through the patterns of thought and energy that are part of my cultural legacy.
I'm tired, physically, but I'm also looking forward to a happy, light-filled weekend (let's hope Mother Nature grants my wish for sunshine). Tomorrow I'll be attending my comadre's son's school expo (he's 6 years old and oh-so-cute) and of course will get to see his brother, my inaanak, too. And then it's off to Gura's Lunar New Year shindig, where I hope to eat lots of good food (is Tatang going to grace us with his excellent marinated and grilled beef specialties? I hope so.
Rest easy, folks, it's the weekend,
Their cries echo to the heavens ...
10 hours ago