This Week in Site Updates (New Creative Space, MBF, More)

New on the blogs this week are two new CREATIVE SPACE posting here on Jhohadli and  a posting on my trip to the Miami Book Fair over on the Wadadli Pen blog. Below are some excerpts. I hope you’ll check out the full posts and, of course, engage, comment, holler.

Re the CREATIVE SPACE postings, I began the first saying “As I have two lecture type presentations to upload, I’m twinning them as part the Lecture Circuit as both are overdue for posting.” So, that’s just what I did. One, CREATIVE SPACE 16 – MAS’KING, was a lecture (Through the Eyes of the Masqueraders: the Intangible Bond of Caribbean Movement, Music, and Mas) by Antiguan and Barbudan dancer/choreographer Veronica Yearwood at a masquerade festival in Bermuda talking about the masquerade tradition in the Caribbean and its roots in Africa.

Antigua slide
(a slide from her presentation showing the Antigua-Barbuda take on traditional mas)

Excerpt from the post:
‘In her power point, Yearwood showed familiar examples of it in Ghana, Cameroon, Zambia; “The displaced African brought with them the intangible knowledge from their Land. During this era much of that knowledge was laid dormant or sometimes quietly practiced. Added to that knowledge was the forced information indoctrinated by the slave master. During this period there was much change and adaptation and evolution, though the basic knowledge and practices remained. However, what is noteworthy is that some practices had to evolve to accommodate the given environment they were exposed to. One such evolution gave rise to the Caribbean Masquerader.” That Caribbean Masquerade began to truly emerge post-Emancipation. She showed how adaptive it was in terms of the instrumentation – the fife and iron bands in Antigua for example – and how it varied island to island – the tuk band in Barbados for instance.’

To read the full post, CREATIVE SPACE 16 – MAS’KING, go here.

The second new posting, CREATIVE SPACE 17 – UNMASKING, was my attempt to share a talk given here in Antigua and Barbuda by a former professor of mine, Dr. Carolyn Cooper, seen here dr cooper with graceflipping through a copy of one of my two children’s picture books, With Gracewith-grace-cover, in Montserrat at the Alliougana Festival of the Word (in fact, she was passing through Antigua to go to the festival when the UWI Open Campus nabbed her to give a talk and those of us in attendance were thankful to them for that).

Excerpt from the post:
‘Her message was about unmasking history, true true history, bringing to light – per the poetry of Mutabaruka – the histories that have been deliberately repressed. And – I might add – our own repression re our histories by her insistence on writing her newspaper column in not only English but also Jamaican patois, freeing our tongue so to speak. Another link to the past and another way of redefining our present and future. We are, after all, as she noted, a folk who have already “from the centre of an oppressive system been able to survive, adapt, create”.’

To read the full post, CREATIVE SPACE 17 – UNMASKING, go here.

The final thing I want to share in this post is the posting at Wadadli Pen about my participation in the Miami Book Fair.

signing books 2
(ever thankful to anyone who supports with a purchase of Lost! A Caribbean Sea Adventure like this lady at my after-panel book signing)

Excerpt from the post:
“My event was Read Caribbean presents Adventures for Kids and I was delighted to share the stage and do a signing afterwards with co-presenters Marjaun Canady, who was a tough act to follow, Paula-Anne Porter Jones, whom I remember actually, as I reminded her, from my UWI years, and Francie Latour.”

To read the full post, go here.

That’s all for now. Remember to #readAntiguaBarbuda #voteAntiguaBarbuda

A Tuesday Meme (a Brand New One for Me)

Tell Me Something Tuesday is a weekly discussion post on Rainy Day Ramblings where the Meme-mother discusses a wide range of topics from books to blogging and invites others to weigh in and join the conversation .

So, okay, the conversation seems to be about horror movies as America-land gears up for Halloween. I’m in the Caribbean and though Halloween seems to be catching on here, it’s not exactly my bag. I mean, the last three movies I sorta-mostly watched are

Quincy – love Quincy Jones’ music, read his autobiography years ago, so (his recent health scares aside) not a lot new here for me…but point of view adds something, and with his daughter, Rashida, in the director’s chair and sometimes behind the lens, it is a more personal and touching portrait of an admittedly flawed and undeniably talented human being. The man who from his jazz days to his Sinatra days to The Wiz to Sanford and Son and other TV and movie themes to Michael Jacksons’ Off the Wall, Thriller,michael-jackson-thriller-e1535549330442-700x355and Bad, to The Colour Purple to We are the World to Back on the Block to the Fresh Prince of Belair to Vibe … is responsible for some of the most enduring musical and pop culture moments of our lives. I know Netflix is presumptuous (and racially stereotypical) with those algorithms so you may not even be aware of this one but it’s worth a viewing.

Nappily Ever After (also on Netflix and based on this book I haven’t yet read 41osWiEC9sL__SX322_BO1,204,203,200_)- the latest Sanaa Lathan starrer – with a side of Lynn Whitfield. These two women were staples of ‘Black’ film throughout the 90s and aughts (The Women of Brewster Place, The Josephine Baker Story, Stompin at the Savoy, A Thin Line Between Love and Hate, Eve’s Bayou etc. in the case of Whitfield; The Best Man, Disappearing Acts, Love and Basketball,  Brown Sugar, Something New etc. in the case of Sanaa) and honestly I was going to watch for the two of them alone. Throw in some social commentary vis-à-vis Black women and our complicated relationship with our hair  in world where Eurocentric beauty standards (including straight hair) are the default (for more and deeper takes on this topic read Althea Prince’s The Politics of Black Women’s Hair 41fcMlIvaVLor watch Chris Rock’s Good Hair51D76G05XQL__SY445_), and what’s not to watch. I saw a lot of criticism of this one before I actually saw it. Folks felt it was light fare and too cliché from what I’m gathering, and they’re not wrong. But it’s also a romantic comedry (sic) and they do that – see every Meg Ryan film ever. So I take it for what it is and enjoy it as such (and it was entertaining) and hope that we get more and more opportunities to tell a wide range of films so that one film won’t be expected to carry the burden of telling our many stories (especially when it’s not exactly the genre for it).


That first big chop can be scary…scary liberating…as Sanaa will find out when the tears dry (still from Nappily Ever After)

Leave no Trace – the last film I managed to see (mostly) beginning to end. I saw the trailer sometime ago on youtube and it seemed interesting so when I needed to give my brain a rest, I thought, why not. It’s the story of a father who has opted out with his daughter into the wilds of…some wet, cold part of America…until they are drawn back in to life because it turns out you’re not allowed to opt out of life with your teenage daughter. He tries to play along so he won’t lose her but in the end the restlessness gets him; the heartbreaking part coming when she discovers she wants to stay while he can’t quit moving.

I liked all three in different ways for different reasons (but didn’t love any of them…probably taking the most joy and insight from Quincy). But, obviously, no horror here. I did catch the season 9 premiere of The Walking Dead which jumped the story forward a couple of years to something approximating what passes for normal in a zombie apocalypse, walkingdead-season9-blogroll-1538446518768_400wand it did have some scary moments – not the zombies but the death that’s always imminent. I said a while ago that I was over The Walking Dead (and did check out for a while) but I can’t seem to quit it (though it isn’t appointment TV for me like it used to be). Ezekiel almost falling in to a pit of zombies is about as horrific as it got (and with a couple of near death experiences last season in the face of his insistent optimism), it did feel like the leader of the Kingdom was on borrowed time and that that rope might snap. But… *spoiler alert* it didn’t. Though I do know due to casting news that we can look forward to two major character deaths this season…I mean, “we” assuming I keep watching. The freelancing life is hectic is as hectic does, and I’m still about a season behind on every other show I’m remotely interested in – Atlanta to The Americans…but someday!

Speaking of Someday, I did mention that I have a new story Evening Ritual in The New Daughters of Africa and here’s a meme-ish-related tidbit, it actually began as a sorta ‘ghost story” (or an attempt at historical fiction, or something) inspired by women in a  photo I saw at a lecture I attended on the old sugar factory transport system (the locos). For the longest while I tried to make these two stories which existed in two different times fit together but they didn’t, and when I untangled them I discovered I had one story that with some work (and some helpful feedback), an editor thought worthy of publication in this seminal publication – and as for the original story, in that other time, I may find a way to dig that out yet. The other-other story I mentioned The Night the World Ended was inspired by last hurricane season in the Caribbean which was its own horror show. As I mentioned that’s forthcoming in The Caribbean Writer. Another tidbit, that story was one of those out of body writing experiences, so much so that when they sent word that they’d be publishing it and even as I was re-reading it, I couldn’t remember writing it, though I remember that I wrote it…if that makes any sense.

Most recent book finished is Faye Kellerman’s historical murder mystery Straight into Darkness which didn’t scare me (well, not in the way intended but given that it’s set at the pre-birth of the Third Reich more in the this is what can happen to a democracy if we don’t pay attention way) but did hold my interest.

I feel like I should end with favourite horror films or something to play this game right…but I’m not sure I have any. Does Michael Jackson’s Thriller count? No? Okay free associating off the top of my head, I’m going with Rosemary’s Baby, Cujo, and The Omen – none of which I’ll be watching this October – and leave it at that.

If you’re here for the first time, my name is Joanne C. Hillhouse. I’ve authored some books – I hope you’ll check them out (and if you already have, I encourage you to post a reader review to Amazon or Goodreads, or even here); and I offer freelance services – look me up if you need any of the listed services. Thanks!


The Boy inspires Art…and Conversation

The coolest thing happened this week. A teacher sent me some pictures  made by students in her class; the pictures, their interpretation of scenes from my first book The Boy from Willow Bend.
The Boy from Willow Bend1
I’ve received a few Willow Bend related emails over the years. The first one that stands out is from a university student in Italy. It blew my mind then that Vere had travelled as far as Italy and that she had selected him for her class project in her course on post colonial literature. “I really liked because of the kindness of the protagonist and the idea of Caribbean life and atmosphere it gave to me,” she wrote, adding. “I chose your book from the many my teacher proposed to me.”

Mind blown.

To more established writers, maybe a small thing – I don’t know; but for a newly minted writer from a small place a world away, that was kind of a big deal. The Boy from Willow Bend was re-issued in 2009 and has been on the schools reading lists for Antigua and Anguilla for a few years now. A student at the University of Puerto Rico even did a paper on it that she sent to me and gave me permission to post just a couple years ago. I know Vere lives, though he would be a young man by now, but it’s always still kinda wild whenever I am reminded that he lives anew as that little boy trying to survive Dead End Alley for new readers continuing to discover him. I had such a reminder last year when school children who’d come to the Anguilla lit fest wanted photos and autographs. Wild.

That teachers are encouraging students to engage with Vere in ways that bring out their inner artist. Well, let’s just say when the images showed up in my inbox, I became unexpectedly emotional because Vere, we could never have imagined this.

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That’s about half of the images sent. And like I said my response to this was indescribable.

As the initial elation settled, I did notice (yes, I am aware of the elephant in the room) that Vere and June and the whole Dead End crew (most of them) are looking a little …white. Prompting a discussion between the teacher and me about the challenge of getting black (and in this case, Caribbean, more specifically, Antiguan) children to centre themselves in their own imaginations enough to instinctively draw reflections of themselves. She had had a conversation with them about that, she said. Meanwhile, I shared with her a story I’d recently read (in the Antigua and Barbuda Review of Books Volume 8 Number 1 Fall 2015) from the writings of the late Tim Hector in which he recounts a time when, as student of notable Antiguan and Barbudan (for many reasons) Reginald Samuel, he and his classmates were instructed to draw a man. Hector took great care with his drawing but when he proudly presented his work to his teacher it became what we now call a teachable moment. Like these students Hector was a black boy in a predominantly black country albeit one that was still then a colony. Hector writes: “(Mr. Sam – as they called him) rose from his chair. Sat on the desk in a very kindly manner…And then he said, ‘the negro is the only man in the world, who when he is asked to draw a man draws a white man. Everytime! Colonialism has done that to us. From now on when you draw you must try and draw people like yourselves.’ After that he always made one of our classmates model for art class.”

I told the teacher who’d sent me the pictures that one of the reasons I insist that submissions to the Wadadli Pen Challenge be Caribbean in spirit if not in setting is that this instinct to centre other over self reveals itself in the writing as well.

The teacher, though she already had an awareness of the challenges, said of the Hector story “I’m not going to forget that” – and I have no doubt that she is going to continue to use the openings and opportunities to have conversations with her students about not just making the characters look like themselves and the world they inhabit, that’s not the point; but instinctively identifying themselves as people of value who deserve to be centered, especially in their own imaginations. Self-awareness, self-love, self-affirmation. That’s what it’s about, right?

And so, I write this both in a state of joy at the way something I wrote continues to connect with and inspire new readers, with feelings of appreciation to both teacher and students, and with an awareness that the work continues.

Mali Olatunji’s Jumbie Aesthetic Comes to Light with Launch of First Book

Mali A. Olatunji took the photo of me that forms a part of this image in a park in New York, in summer 2012. Hillhouse Read's Kincaid's Lucy, (06.2012)In it, I am reading Jamaica Kincaid’s Lucy: A Novel. I think he saw a certain link there, how ever tenuous, given that I was in New York for the launch of my novel Oh Gad! and Kincaid was and remains the most high profile writer from my home country Antigua and Barbuda, and an influence on my becoming as a writer (referenced in many interviews, including this one). Given that last statement, obviously, I’d read several Kincaid books to that point, beginning with the pivotal Annie John: A Novel, but not Lucy. And, yes, I’m actually reading not just pretending to. When you’re posed for as long as I was, it’s inevitable that you’re going to start reading the book you’re supposed to be pretending to read. And, boy, am I glad I did; it became one of my Kincaid favourites.

Anyway, this picture is part of a series of images (I believe) included in Olatunji’s new (first ever, long overdue) book.

Olatunji as you’ll read in this Colin Sampson article has a long record as a professional photographer both here at home and in New York, where he worked for more than two decades as the official fine arts photographer at the Museum of Modern Art. Sidebar: you’ll also note in the Sampson article a critique of how the community fails to utilize people like Olatunji who want to pass on what they’ve acquired over the years.

On that point, you’ll further note that the launch (details at the end of this blog) will be taking place at the Youth Enlightenment Academy, in the former BBC facility on the Sea View Farm Road at Lightfoot, where I held my adult writing workshops earlier this year but which didn’t have its formal opening until this month, July 16th 2015.  For more on YEA, follow the link and/or contact founder and president Lawrence Jardine (770-6955) or Mali Adelaja Olatunji, who serves as the executive director (781-3999). This is a project Olatunji became involved with in an effort to take another stab, not his first, at passing on what he knows – as a photographer, as a student of philosophy with his own unique insights, as an aesthetician, and as an authority and aficionado of Antiguan and Barbudan culture. I can attest from the many spirited discussions and debates we’ve had over the years of our friendship that he is passionate about all of these things.

I’ve known about this book project for a while, and I’m looking forward to it, because in my understanding it’s not just another book featuring pretty pictures (nothing against pretty pictures; I love them too) but a book forwarding a particular philosophy, a uniquely African Antiguan philosophy, but doing so visually and in the process experimenting with a fresh aesthetic.  I’ve variously heard Olatunji refer to it as a jumbie aesthetic and also as woodism. Here’s how it’s explained on the website of his publisher, Hansib, incidentally also the publisher of the second edition of my own The Boy from Willow Bend:

“Like surrealism, cubism and other original aesthetics, woodism is a visual summary of Olatunji’s way of looking at life. In particular, it is an aesthetic that sees the world through the wooded eyes of jumbies. Your jumbie is your soul or the spiritual part of you that survives the death of the body. In Antigua and Barbuda and much of the Caribbean, jumbies are believed to make their post-body home in trees, and in particular silk cotton trees. Hence we can see why Olatunji associates them with a woodist vision of existence.”

Olatunji’s approach involves layering images of trees and leaves over the objects and subjects to reveal the “jumbie’s vision”.
Given the way we still grapple with the jumbie iconography, it’ll be interesting to see how people respond to that idea. Given the breadth of Olatunji’s expression, it’ll be interesting to see how people engage with the artist’s vision. Sidebar-sort-of: you can read more of Olatunji’s insights re art Euro-to-Africa to the evolving Africa-inspired expressions of which he is a part, here.


That the book, The Art of Mali Olatunji: Painterly Photography from Antigua and Barbuda (pictured above), is now coming out is credited largely to Dr. Paget Henry. a professor of Africana studies and philosopher in his own right (his publications include Caliban’s Reason: Introducing Afro-Caribbean Philosophy (Africana Thought)).

The book will be launched (and will go on sale) on July 23rd at 7 p.m. with a companion art exhibition featuring the photographic art off Mali Adelaja Olatunji. The night’s scheduled speakers are Lawrence Jardine, Founder, A&B Youth Enlightenment Academy; Paget Henry, Professor, Africana Studies, Brown University; Karen Allen Baxter, Exhibition Curator; Managing Director, Africana Studies/Rites and Reason Theatre, Brown University; Mali Olatunji, Photographer; Executive Director, A&B Youth Enlightenment Academy

Remember, the venue is the Youth Enlightenment Academy in the old BBC building.
youth enlightenment academy

I plan to be there. Do you?

Sips and Verses…in Contemplation

The event was dubbed Sips & Verses; it was a fund raiser for the Government House Restoration Project on the evening of Saturday 27th June. It would feature local authors and poets.

A little background…

According to the Governor General’s Message in the event booklet, read in his absence by Governor General’s Deputy Sir Clare Roberts, “the Government House Restoration Committee was formed in October 2014 in response to the urgent need to restore the entire Government House property.” He announced that US$8 million is the target.

It begins with this… small, very small events in this stately place – and wandering, as I tend to do, through the dining room and other spaces, you get a real sense of its former grandeur, not as somewhere specifically lived in and homey but as a historical showpiece, which it aspires to be again. I have warring impulses when it comes to such places – an appreciation for history, yes; an awareness that such spaces do not comfortably accommodate the working class people who built this country (my people), also yes. And yet the poetry and prose we come here to share tonight, could prompt sober reflection on who we are, who we want to be, at this intersection of governance (which this house symbolizes), then and now.

Or it could just be an entertaining evening. Either way.

Sips & Verses is the second arts fundraiser in this space that I’m aware of – the first was an art auction, the pieces from which can still be seen hanging on the walls, prompting me to ask if the space is opened for public viewing of said pieces on a day. Speaking of the Public, when I shared the after-post re Sips and Verses on social media several people commented that they would have come out to support if they’d only known about it. So, there’s that. I did find out that while there’s no online presence as yet for the restoration fund that contributions can be made to an account at Antigua Commercial Bank. So, there’s that as well.

As I write this I haven’t sourced any pictures as yet, online or otherwise, except for those taken and posted to facebook by one of the other participants (my favourite of the night as it happens, with her varie-flected accent, breezy boldness and the deep-deep storytelling anchoring her love poetry, Kimolisa Mings). Hope she doesn’t mind me borrowing.

reading from Oh Gad at Government House 201511539740_10152910676497633_2586013048005010223_n

What else can I tell you of the night the readings were by turns sobering-slash-chilling (Claudia Elizabeth Ruth Francis reading from her international thriller Missing), wryly amusing (Dorbrene O’Marde, a reflection on Carnivals past wrapped in a critique of Carnivals present wrapped in a story styled like a letter between two friends circa early 80s that could easily be rewritten today), sassy-meet-saucy (a toss up between Michelle Toussaint’s last poem – sorry, Michelle, I don’t remember the name but it’s the one inspired by an Edison Liburd painting, the only one I got to hear after being summoned to move my car…and is not my fault, is there the police tell me to park, hm – and Joy Lawrence’s Mr. Fashion). It was a pleasure to hear Wadadli Pen alum Margaret Irish read one of her winning pieces, the Skipping Rope, and in conversation with her, to hear of her plans for publication of a children’s book and other things in the near future – go, Margaret. It’s a complicated time for me in my head and heart with so many things that are going on my country and in my world, but here was the simple pleasure of realizing something I continue to pour my heart and soul into is bearing fruit.

So, in the end, I don’t know if the organizers hit their target – I hope we helped them inch along toward the eight million, likkle likkle, as we say, full basket; certainly a portion of the proceeds from the sale of each book is going to the cause (a couple of copies of The Boy from Willow Bend and Musical Youth and a single copy of Oh Gad! have new readers) – plus there was the price of admission (no, no, no, it wasn’t just who soever will may come). And whatever else, it was nice to spend an evening soaking up the words of writers I enjoy, great to see words embraced and appreciated in this space (our version of the White House) where there is always a sense of occasion (if only for the police in their formal outfits, the Governor General’s Deputy and his spouse greeting folks in the receiving line, and the space which screams elegance) even if it is in need of restoration.

For a much more magical Cinderella reading of the night’s events be sure to check out Michelle’s blog. Hey, Michelle, you can keep my glass slippers…shoes were not meant to be torture devices.

When Art Speaks

I am Torn, I am Hurt. It was this piece by Heather Doram that really stopped me. I sat cross legged and read it for some time. What did I read? Eyes peering from behind ripped fabric, held together by safety pins, yet still gaping, so that you see she bleeds red underneath. How do I know it’s a woman? Because her eyes plead for me to see her behind what looks like a ripped burqa, her severed psyche, her desperate efforts to hold it together; threads zigzagging across her like she’s old clothing that’s been darned one too many times. It is a Heather Doram art piece (painting is too limiting a term for this mixed media image on felt). And as I move through the upper gallery of the Museum of Antigua and Barbuda, from this image, reluctantly because I want to take it home (not the first time I’ve experienced this yearning in the presence of one of her one of a kind pieces), to the ones immediately alongside it, The Sands of Time,  so different from the one that had me so mesmerized, I’m reminded that she is a complete artist – never stagnant. The way she moves between mediums, marries mediums, as blindly instinctive as a child crafting, as deftly focussed as the accomplished artist she is and continues to become. She moves, like a belly dancer, I can’t help thinking, sinuously, between the notes, leaning into their curves and finding new expression in these familiar movements. Art, not literal and yet not wholly abstract; conceptual, symbolic, beautiful to the eye and yet a puzzle that draws the inner eye, wanting to make sense of the acrylic explosion of colour and shapes, huts, palm trees, lizards and hanging banana leaves; realism mixed in with the mystical, reflective of people who dance and see jumbies and climb trees and read the signs. There is a compulsion to touch because her art refuses to lie flat with its colours and curlicues, raised, textured, and yet deeply embedded. Sometimes the technique is simpler, or seems so, the sentiment clearer, nostalgia, as with the mixed media Village scenes – same scene, almost, at sunrise, by moonlight – flowing nicely into the large canvas of Norman Massiah’s naturalistic celebration of colour – gold, brown, green – in the various shades, and unbridled serenity, of the banana leaves. Yes, as the reference to Massiah reveals, this Antigua and Barbuda Independence Art Exhibition is not a Heather Doram one woman show. There are notable pieces by Jane Seagull, Emile Hill, X-Sapphair King, Bernard Richardson, Marie Kinsella, Edison Liburd, Glenroy Aaron, Gerald Farquharson, Priscilla Looby, Zavian Archibald, several of which could be the focus of its own write up or inspiration to write. Archibald’s series of inked or digital (I’m not sure) drawings with its Asian featured characters, a slightly odd sight in an Independence show in a predominantly black country, but only until you realize it’s a visual re-imagining of a Haruki Murakami short story, sort of like frames of a larger film, a classic old Hollywood or old Hollywood style film in its romantic subtlety. Emile Hill’s pieces evoking the futuristic with its intriguing dance of edges and curves, hard and soft. All a reminder that our artists are shaking up the story and the storytelling. If you’re still reading, you’ve no doubt sussed out that that I don’t have the creds of a critic; I have picked up some things over the years, but what I’m writing is purely responsive, a conversation between me and the pieces that moved me to write, and I have to admit that I was – not for the first time – struck by Doram’s style, depth, and versatility and the (not at all contradictory) consistency of her aesthetic as I moved deeper into the show – which included her Memory books Heather Doram Memory Book seriesmade of found objects and repurposed books, and, another one I wanted to take home, the window frame, the four panes capturing the seasons of our lives. That one was mixed media on felt, her technique straddling the line between fine art and fine craft. All that said, though my attention remains drawn to Doram’sever evolving oeuvre, I was overall quite impressed with the Independence visual art exhibition; you should check it out if you’re here, in Antigua. If you’re not, remember, Doram is featured in the Antigua and Barbuda issue of online journal Tongues of the Ocean; I invite you to check out her art pieces and read her revealing contributions to the issue’s artists’ roundtable.

Moonlight on Butterflies from Heather Doram's Essence of Life series is one of the images featured in the Tongues of the Ocean Antigua and Barbuda issue. Please respect the artist's copyright and do not repost.

Moonlight on Butterflies from Heather Doram’s Essence of Life series is one of the images featured in the Tongues of the Ocean Antigua and Barbuda issue. Please respect the artist’s copyright and do not repost.


It occurs to me as I lie here, listening to and singing along with Luther Vandross’ Here and Now that lawyers may cash in but if you’re an artist/artiste, you never really check out…aren’t we still staring at Van Gogh’s Starry Night all these years later.

"For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars make me dream" - Vincent Van Gogh

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars make me dream” – Vincent Van Gogh