words, words, words
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If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?
P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.
raisin@gmail.com
albums:
Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
songs:
Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork
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Tuesday, November 26, 2002
Salon.com published a fantastic article by Adrienne Crew detailing the life of a Black African Princess, her own and that of Condi Rice. I found the political reference interesting, but I loved how she explained the cost of being dutiful, to someone else's idea of duty. I know, I know, I've done it too. I have much more to say about it than i have time to reflect on now, although it jibes with what I wrote most recently here. Below is my favorite quote from the article. Salon.com was kind enough to print my letter to the editor about the article as well.
"It hurt to disappoint my mentor when I left my high-flying law firm. I knew that ditching the firm was not the action of a dutiful daughter. But I had begun to reexamine my BAPtitude, realizing that the price of maintaining it was too high. BAPtitude can become an insidious mask -- not unlike the one in poet Paul Laurence Dunbar's "We Wear the Mask" -- that conceals the wearer from herself as well as from others. Like some twisted take on a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale (say, "The Red Shoes"), that mask of perfection and poise wears you, instead of you wearing it. "
4:24 PM
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