Unbridled Gifthorses

Happy New Year, Indeed!

I got an early "present" in the form of a last-minute writing assignment to interview an up-and-coming travel guru, originally from Brooklyn, now an expat in London. Talking with Travis gave me some really encouraging insights on taking leaps of faith that have helped confirm my ambitions for this new year. A bonus on this perspective was in the discovery through our chat that we actually share an ancestral homeland! "Guyanese truly does go everywhere, man!"

2018 has already blustered in (snow punning, I know) with all kinds of interesting developments. The most enjoyable so far has been the growing tradition of meeting up with some of my New York City cousins and hanging out and catching up. Chances are, I might have just seen them at the annual Christmas potluck, but every now and then a surprise guest makes an appearance.

This Christmas, I got to dig deep into some old family photos documenting our shared heritage, and even make plans to do more genealogical spelunking that would culminate in some sort of published work. It's all very exciting!

I feel most validated, however, by the sheer joy and unexpected benefits of reconnecting with old friends and relatives that were growing far too distant. And I will take this moment to include all of the family friends- Aunt This and Uncle That- that are, by sheer cultural privilege, also part of my family.

I should back up a bit here. I have a huge extended family. HUGE. My mother is one of nine, my father one of five, his mother the eldest of ten, and her mother the middle of five or six herself! All of the previous generation had at least two kids a-piece, and on, and on! We've got such overlap between the generations, I'm envisioning a family chart that will rival the Targaryens, without the icky incest. I have made jokes about not even attempting to marry anyone Guyanese or Bajan, specifically to avoid unpleasant (READ: unexpected) familial connections. I'm only half-joking.

The point is that there are a lot of us that I call Family, and we honor our second- and third cousins, and are (in)conveniently spread out over three, maybe four continents! So when even a few of us gather together to celebrate, mourn, and, invariably, eat, it is a big deal, especially as many in my generation keeps getting married and having children, and getting quite caught up with life in their respective borders. Iv'e often felt like a bit of an anomaly among my cousins, being in my mid-thirties and not following suit, but as I learn to embrace the unique path that I am on, I relish what I can also add to the legacy of our ancestors' wildest dreams.

Some of us cousins made plans to get together and make the first day of the new year a collaborative process of vision-boarding, kids in tow, carving a small rectangular piece of dreams and affirmations into our hectic and varied lives. It was an oddly calming exercise that really got our creative juices going, amidst the children orbiting on their bikes and scooters.  I learned that we all have similar desires to travel, a genetic trait that has not thinned out, apparently. We also all had a moment of clarity for how we can still be in each other's lives, and be of value and encouragement.

As the time came to a dramatic close (you can't really take your eyes of of that many assortment of tykes for too long!), we collected our cutouts to finish later and briefly explained our mural masterpieces to each other. One cousin expressed her interest in getting into a healthier diet regimen and incorporating more outdoors activity to add variety and fun to her transition. Another cousin vowed to use her post-graduation off-time before starting a new job to volunteer more and learn a new language. Another cousin who has the cutest team of boys very close in age said that this is the year she books an all-inclusive family vacation, her first like this since she became a domestic engineer. There were suggestions for websites to visit with travel information, and promises of accountability support for individual endeavors. Here again, we young women pledged to maintain friendships borne from childhood.

This was the first time in my memory that we had a goal-oriented gathering, and it affirms the promise that as we continue to grow and grow older, we still have it within us the codes to family success, family wealth and healthier relationships with whomever crosses our paths.

By the end of this week, a couple birthdays would have come and gone, job interviews attended, a flight around the world taken. I, myself made an investment into my own skill development with some online courses, while I continue with renewed vigor chasing down writing contracts, and practicing what makes me perfect: my words, my #kitchentherapy, my beadcraft, and my penchant for diving down rabbit-holes in research. fine activities for a winter's week.

Will Travel 4 Books: Origin Story

I love books and I love to read. Anyone that knows me knows this, but perhaps not to what degree this fact resonates. In November of 2015, I began manifesting what would ultimately become my #2016yearoftravel endeavor. Truth be told, a lot of reading was involved as well: Travel+Leisure magazine; my whole swag bag from the January New York Times Travel Show; and several blogs and newspaper articles highlighting all the places one may want to go, and the smartest ways to take advantage. It has been a process that included learning the best times to book a flight; the fine art of stalking a myriad of travel and airline websites; and an overall loosening up of my understanding of where I can travel, and when.

 I've been surrounding myself with super-savvy, quirky and well-travelled men and women who are doing what I want to do and have gone where I intend to go. I have to play it smart, because, until further notice, I have TEN vacation days to spend. Ten.

To briefly reminisce on my lightbulb moment, last year I finally said to myself, "Hey, I can do this!" leveraging the swiftness of my typing skills against an ambitious 2-day JetBlue Halloween flight sale. Sure enough, I found my inspiration earlier when someone in the Nomadness Travel Tribe posted about the Stony Island Arts Bank, a reclaimed building bought for $1 by an enterprising Black artist, Theaster Gates. Yes, bought for a song to preserve the architecture and history of the facility, now serving to house and promote the words and study of several thousand authors and topics of The African Diaspora. I had to go, and JetBlue was making it a $31 one-way special!

It had been a long time since I travelled for books. Fourteen years ago, my academic and adventurous spirit took me to Australia for a semester. Being an opportunistic lass, I tacked on an extra three days outbound and on the return, to get a little taste of the West Coast. I visited the UCLA campus during their annual book fair and had the pleasure of meeting science fiction author Ray Bradbury on the very campus where he wrote Fahrenheit 451 in Powell Library. Many truths converged at that time: 1- I knew that I would travel for books again; 2- there were authors that I wanted to meet before they left this earth, and, most importantly, 3- I would see the creation of a mobile library among my personal and professional achievements. I brought back books from Australia. On the plane. as extra weight. This is serious for me!

My collection of books is beyond logic. They have survived several moves across three New York City boroughs (no small feat!), and even four years out in the salty sandy Southampton town. Some are older than me, and hail from the United Kingdom, France and parts of the Caribbean. 

The travel guidebook collection began when I was a teenager and visited Tower Records in Union Square. I was happiest there, reveling in the access to listening stations for every genre of music I cared to indulge in, steps away from their eclectic mix of reading material. Almost inexplicably, there were the travel guidebooks, allowing me a very tangible first experience to other cultures, steps away from the World music section! I could cross-reference my Putumayo with my Rough Guide, almost like an audio passport, a currency easily stackable in my growing library, as well. 

One other mesmerizing trait of travel books is their ability to capture a part of the world at a specific point in time. One can ready any work of literature from around the world to catch a glimpse of the times the author lived in, but a travel guide speaks just as directly in its cataloging of what to see and do in a particular place. They may even expound upon the whys of travel, if they are really caring of their audience (those of us that read beyond the words to what is not being said have even more context for consideration). The famous Negro Motorist Green Book published from 1936-1966 gained its readership in publicizing not only safe routes for the intrepid African American traveler, but also establishments that were likely to cater to him or her in business on the road, lodging, dining,  and entertainment.

I got out there because of books, reading, and ultimately putting my own pen to paper and finger to keyboard. It started when I was three years old, and I still have a lovingly preserved yellowed dot-matrix printout of my first tale to prove it. 

À la LeVar Burton via Reading Rainbow, I offer another seminal work credited with the development of my adventurous reading and traveling spirit: Black Girl in Paris by Shay Youngblood. I stumbled into this novel as a young college student either on my way to or returning back from Australia, and the timing was ideal. She was a fish out of water in mid-1980s Paris. American Black female, artsy and alone. I was able to dream and see myself taking on the scary and oftentimes dubious mission of doing my version of discovery through travel several times over, each new location and circumstance rendering an authentic epiphany in the process. 

Books and writing are intrinsically linked for me, and the sharing of literature that motivates a girl to see beyond her perceived borders would well justify the quirkiness I've fostered for over 30 years. Stay tuned for the next chapter! #willtravel4books

Note: This post is dedicated to the wondrous memory of our soon-departed P.S. Bookshop in Dumbo, Brooklyn. Thank you, I love you, we all love you!