Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Untitled/Infatuation Poem

Please don't say those things,
because they make me want to love you.

And I can't.
I can't lean on you in public,
I can't hold you hand,
I can't plant a kiss on you just because.

When you break my heart,
there can be no ceremonial burning of the ex's pictures.

You can never be mine.

So how come I can pick your voice out of a crowd?
How come your scent lingers for hours after your gone?
How come the thought of you makes my heart race?
How come your hugs feel like home?
How come you touch chills me and heats me at the same time?
How come a simple glance from you makes my stomach muscles tighten,
and tiny beads of perspiration form all over?

How come if you can never be mine?

You can never be mine,
So please don't say those things.

Monday, March 21, 2011

"Can We Kick It?"

I've always admired the friendships men have with other men. It always seems so effortless. The friendships just seem to happen there never seems to be some big back story like women sometimes have. "She was a friend of a friends sister, we hung out one day and became best friends!" The thing I admire most about male friendships is that they don't seem to have as much pressure as female friendships sometimes do. Or maybe when your friends with someone through art gender doesn't matter.

I say all this to introduce my friend Chad(again). We met a couple of years ago at an art show. We've kept in touch and when I saw he was coming to NY I jumped at the chance to hang out with him. He is a great artist, but an even better human being. Well it didn't happen, mostly because my phone is a jerk. The stupid thing takes calls, and alerts me of voicemail, only when it wants too. But I digress. I had planned to take some photographs of him, but since that didn't happen I've provided this nice link to his blog with images of his time in Brooklyn.  I don't know how or where he found the beauty in Brooklyn because I can't seem to find it here, and I'm a resident.

A la Prochaine!

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Artist Talk: Courtney James

Photo via the The Black Girl Project.

My name is Courtney James, but many know me as Bonnie. I am a senior at the City College of New York and I will be graduating in May with a Baccalaureates degree in English and Journalism, and a Certificate in Publishing.

Where are you from?
I am a New Yorker, born and raised in Crown Heights, Brooklyn but my ethnic background is that of the West Indies. My mother and father are natives of Jamaica, W.I.

What do you call yourself (writer, rapper, photographer, etc)?
I am proud to label myself as an aspiring writer who has somewhat realistic dreams of becoming an Editor for trade paperback books

How do you create (your inspiration)?
I create through ranting. Anything that is on my mind is what I would consider important. Some may call it a ramble but I feel as though the process of thinking is, in itself, a gift that everyone should delve into.

Why do you do it?
I began write to clear my mind. I started out by constantly writing lists, that of which I still do to this day. However, I began to practice my love for creative writing while I was in high school. At this time, I was more into finding a world I could call my own. I had no problems with identity while a student in high school but writing took me to a place that could only be dictated through me. This is still the reason why I write. Because though people may judge my work, there is still the underlying factor of why I wrote it in the first place.

Are you currently working on anything?
I am currently working on my own personal narrative. I am contemplating ways of doing this but I feel like I'll most likely interpret it through a number of vignettes. I will post it when I am done and it is revised my my Fiction Workshop instructor.

Advice you would give a young Artist?
Don't worry about what other people will say because while one person will give you a thumbs up, ten more will give you a thumbs up. Also, always try to seek an inspiration for what you do or else, when asked to explain your masterpiece, you may find yourself stumbling for words and this may lead you to question yourself. Something you do NOT want.

What does the name of your blog, Soliloquy to be Broken, mean?
Soliloquy, in the dictionary, is basically the act of one talking to himself/herself. If you have heard of "Colloquy" or colloquialism, Soliloquy is the opposite of Colloquy.  It is, in many ways, one being oblivious to the listeners around him. I knew when I began this blog, that I would be a "loner". I was not hype about gaining followers (and I still am not). However, a writer always has that dream of breaking the wall of silence and fusing it with listeners. I hope to create "Colloquy" through my blog so in essence I am trying to break Soliloquy...Hence the name

I plan on traveling outside of NYC twice this year. Where would you recommend I travel to in the US?
Please visit Philly. Their culture of music and food will make you fall in love all over again!

To view some of Courtney's work click here.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Street Art in Tribeca

There is some contruction going on near my school in Tribeca. Part of the street is blocked off so you can't see what's being done. In my head I imagine some clever artist(s) sneaking around at night and painting these pictures.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Video of the Day: A Hill in Spain

Soon I'm going to become a biking member of NYC. I promise that I will wear a helmet and will never attempt to do stunts off of hills and rocks. Never the less this I find this video awesome! While I'm trying to get the confidence to bike in the street there are people biking of hills. In Spain no less!

A la prochaine!

Friday, March 4, 2011

Just another silly poem

I was at work one day and my pants wouldn't stay where I wanted them too. I knew didn't have any safety pins, but I reached into my pocket anyway. I found a bobby pin and a paper clip. I stuck the on my pants and took shallow breathes for the rest of the day. FYI my pants stayed up. Have a poem:

I have my,

Pins to hold my pants up,
Socks that I made myself,
A button down shirt from ninth grade,
and a sweater from the clearance rack,

I work in an office now.

They say they understand
that "I'm on a budget".
But I say,
I'm drowning...and trying to
keep my head above the water.