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I have an elastic heart. My heart stretches to let love in, and does so pretty easily. My heart has no walls, and no locks - it enjoys being full.  But once that love is gone, or you're gone, my heart bounces back like a rubber band. There is never any empty space. That space you once occupied is no longer there, my heart will still be just as full, only a little smaller, a little tighter - there are no voids in my heart. Only love. But just like a rubber band my heart can be stretched again. You may have to try a little harder next time. You may have to wiggle your way in. 

Where Are You? Please Don't Leave Me Here With These People: a love story

Where Do You Think Our Souls Go When We Die?

Her: “What are your dreams? What city are you currently in love with? What is your favorite cheese? What are you afraid of? Who do want to be when you’re old? Where do you think our souls go when we die?”

Me: “To look back on my life and smile. Montreal. Brie. Losing my ability to see, hear or taste by way of some freak accident or old age. Dr. Nikolaus Richard the first. I don’t think I believe in death”

Her: “…but your soul, where do you think it goes?”

Me: “I don’t think our souls go anywhere when we die. I think as we live we leave a little piece of it in people along the way. Every time we love we lose a part of ourselves. Or every time we create. Or procreate. If we are lucky, by the time we die we wont have any soul left to go anywhere and our lives will be complete and our bodies empty. We will have given it all away.” 

Her: “So you don’t believe in Heaven?”

Me: “Sure I do. We’re here right now. You must have missed the sign when we walked in.”

I asked her who she voted for in 2004. We were discussing politics and religion and that was the first election I was old enough to participate in. I said, Gore she said that was the year she stopped believing in anything but she still went to church just in case. She still voted in every election after that just to be safe because she didn’t want to be blamed when things went wrong and things always went wrong. And knowing she wasn’t the reason why helped her sleep at night. I asked her how she’s been sleeping lately. She asked, “why do you put so much pressure on me to dream when I’m still stuck between feeling lost and feeling free? Forced to get along with those who arm themselves and dream of harming me. Sold me a house with a lawn and picket fence but made copies of the key so you can come and go as I sleep at night and my dreams can be policed. I worked my whole life for the American dream to find out it wasn’t for me. What do you do when your dreams come true and you don’t want them in the end? Or you’re so in debt you don’t know if you can afford to dream again? Do you work the rest of your life to pay them back or go on and pretend like you never gave a second thought to giving up or giving in? Happily ever afters make you think that your dreams come true in the end when they actually happen somewhere in the middle and the rest of the story is you figuring out what to do with them. Who is it you want to be? Did you ever consider maybe giving up is a way of getting free?” I told her she sounded like a politician campaigning for an election she knew she would never win. A disappointed victim of her own expectations. And there I was, trying to convince myself I didn’t want all the things I knew I did. Still holding on to dreams I was told to believe in ever since I was a kid. But it’s such a relief to wake up and no longer want the things you felt you could never have. I could free myself by letting go of all the dreams I’d been sold in the past but I didn’t. I still wanted it all even if she warned me it wouldn’t last. I wrote my vote on a post-it note and slipped it in her bag. She won the election, I lost my way. We were a new nation under old flags.

🌹

I Used To Have These Dreams About You...

I used to have these dreams about you. They were so vivid I’d wake up to see the blood rushing back to my skin where you had just let my arm go. I would open my eyes in mid sentence while mumbling something incoherently only to realize I was talking to a ghost. It felt like you were there, but every time I would try to grab your hand, or touch your hair, my arms would go right through you. Funny, you always had your rules. Why don’t  you ever take your shoes off while you walk around my head at night? You know my mind is made of hardwood floors. They creek with every step you take. At least close the door behind you so my thoughts don’t escape.

Waking up was always like walking away from a car crash. I would see my life flash before my eyes every morning, happy we’re still alive, but still holding regrets for those mistakes I made in the past. I would always have so much to tell you, but the nights never lasted long enough, and the dreams always ended too soon. I’m glad you’re here in this room so I no longer have to pretend I’m talkin… damn, I’m waking up again.

Lately I've Been Falling In Love

I try to fall in love at least once a week. Lately I’ve been falling in love with music and cities because people don’t always love you back the way you want them to. Instead of setting myself on fire, I’d rather buy a ticket to New York and fall in love with the view. Or listen to Coltrane and fall in love with the blues. Or run my finger across a map and fall in love with the idea of falling in love with someone new, somewhere new, in a place I’ve never been and in a language I’m not that fluent. But sometimes I can’t help myself and I still fall in love with you. All of you. Over and over again. I fall in love with the memories. I fall in love with the possibilities. I fall in love with cities I’ve never been to, like Montreal, or Paris, or Little Rock, Arkansas. I fall in love with new Prince songs I’ve never heard before. I fall in love with bad advice. I fall in love with that missing hour of sleep I lost last night. I fall in love with the people who love me every now and then just to see what that feels like. 

“Black people in this country are in a state of emergency” - As an artist it can take me weeks or months to find the time, energy, and inspiration to create something new, but these past couple of months have put all other art on hold as I try to process and respond to what’s going on in this country. Black people are under attack. As I’ve seen many post before - don’t tell me you’re sorry as if you take pity on me being Black, and don’t tell me you stand with me, tell the racists you stand against them.

Shoutout to all the artists who have found the will and energy to create anything during such emotionally draining times. And shoutout to the artists who haven’t created anything in months because we are still processing, or because artwork has taken a back seat to survival. #blacklivesmatter #socialdistance #socialjustice

When you die do you get to take your memories with you?