Lying here on the striped couch in my lovely temporary digs New York, coming in and out of awareness of the ever-present shoulder pain, but mostly, thinking about yesterdays event, taking apart all the reasons it was so personally satisfying to me. It struck me just now that it was integrated in the largest sense. Integrated meaning inclusive of a variety of elements; whole, and thus with integrity, another word with many shades of meaning. It wasnt just that it was black and white, though thats obvious, and though it makes me think about how few events really are racially integrated in a full way socially. But the event itself fed both mind/artistic-and-discerning eye/ perhaps soul, as well as body. On the first score: The art itself, well-displayed in the end, though none of us had ever hung an exhibit before, and we all worked together and there was a lot of discussion and collaborative back-and-forth which included a few disagreements... and this was all heightened and deepened by the discussion with Hawa Diallo. She is so very what-you-see-is-what-you-get... Unpretentious, direct, funny, clear in telling her story and describing what each painting is about and how the vocation of painting came upon her. She is so bright, and she is been through in life that contains so many horrors that are simply unimaginable to most Americans. The group was riveted, moved. And yet, the senses were not forgotten. Instead of it being the typical opening wine and cheese throwaway food, this aspect really was integrated into the event. Brooklyn BBrooklyn Bell Foods & Co.eam truly is lush, sensual, interesting, dimensional, so satisfying. (People were swooning over the Generous World banana-peanut-chocolate-vanilla, created in Hawas honor, and there was a burnt-sugar flavor, called Black Lava that also really spoke to me.) And because of Hawas background (the Fulani are dairying people) and Charlottes the great love of ice cream – how are and I both told plenty of Charlotte stories – The fit really was perfect. Too, I loved it that several groups of people that would not, in the usual way of things, coalesce or get to know each other did. Kati Duncans people, locals and neighbors and friends and ice cream lovers and family – her mother is visiting, on extended stay from Wisconsin; her little girl Isabel was there, and of course her husband Ron, master creamiere. Then, my friends, like Miriam Pope,who I knew through Charlotte, and June Jacobs, through my food writing world. And then there were Hawas people too. All four of her children - even though Zaina Therealzdw Diallo was leaving for Gambia on the night of the opening, she was there the day before, helping us set up. Their friends, and cousins, and relatives, and extended family group. Writer Kimberly Jacobs. And a contingent of Guineans, including the Mrs. Toure, wife of the Ginny ambassador or, who said, of Hawas work, I kept hearing how good it was, but I had no idea. I had no idea. Real conversation. Real food. Authentic. Mind-engaging. Heartfelt. Integrated.
Posted on: Sun, 28 Dec 2014 13:45:34 +0000
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