I’m baaack… re-entry is a mutha-fu—
shut yo’ mouth!

Yesterday, after flight delay (due to “mechanical issues”) and further flight delay (and all of the prayer that comes with it), i finally landed two and a half hours later than scheduled from my 10 day sojourn. re-entry, from bliss to banality, is a mutha. and, on top of that, not having regular access to email… oy vay! t’was like a glimpse of hell, i tell ya. but i'm sure hell is hotter than the mid-to-upper 70’s of oakland and san fran, which is a far cooler cry from the same perspiration-inspiring temps in austin.

[seriously, though…] the week was nothing short of wonderful. i flew into oakland on monday morning (6/26) and spent most of the day with sweetiebubu, who is still beautiful and amazing. his new work schedule intruded on most of our intentions but we managed to create bliss with every available moment... in conversation, in transit, in every gesture. we caught up with my daddy (who i resemble more now than ever... scary) and stepmother monday night. i hadn't realized how long it had been since i'd seen them; her, still quietly stirring steaming pots; him, still talking politics, breaking only for periodic prepaid legal conference calls and breaking sports news on espn.

tuesday i went by barnes and noble in jack london square to pick up a copy of walter mosley's book, life out of context. (GET IT!) it's a really quick read but IMPERATIVE for those of us perpetually in search of "deeper" meaning. while at jack london, i perused world plus market for a few things for bubu's meeting later that night, then spent the rest of the day preparing VONA.

daddy picked me up early wednesday morning for our commute into the san francisco. on our way to the bay bridge, we picked up a commuter, which is a neat (but kinda scary) system to take advantage of the car pool lane and help save on the bridge’s perpetually rising toll. so, at a designated location, commuters wait for perfect strangers to pull up. they get in (with a “good morning” or less, according to commuter etiquette) and are taken to a central drop-off point across the bay bridge in the city. what a trusting interchange in a non-trusting world. while the experience was really fascinating, our participation made me 10 minutes late. so i was late and disoriented when i arrived to VONA's orientation which was reminiscent of my first cave canem welcome circle. there i finally met VONA director, diem jones (a towering gentle man) and elmaz abinader (whose smiling, disarming eyes feel like home). the room was warm and aglow with anticipation. writers of all disciplines and desires.

our first day of the three-day master's suite series was spent with the coolest man of mystery, walter mosley. he primarily read from a manuscript of his forthcoming book on how to commit yourself to completing that first manuscript draft. the talk inspired writing activities lead by elmaz who invited me into spaces of brilliance i didn't realize i was capable of occupying. after two long and lovingly yet purposefully intense days of work and writing, our effort culminated in a friday night performance that, for me, was completely transformative. like i really had to SHOW UP! all of the groups, ours and those held in the genres from monday, were SERIOUS! i mean, some serious work was created and i felt blessed just to witness it all. it was the kind of experience that happens the way it does as a result of the love and synergy of everyone involved in the process... with ours in particular, from the voices of the "suitemates" to the direction of the final performance (a collaboration mostly between our fearless leader, elmaz, and my group 1 sister, erika, who was [willingly] drafted into the role). it was, by all accounts... amazing. not only my brief but invaluable moments of presence with VONA staff (elizabeth and mai) and faculty (suheir hammad, ruth foreman and willie perdomo), but i found moments of crazy love to my VONA (week 1) master’s suite brethren & sistren…

deneaanderikaandadamandglodeananddeirdreandteri
andvalerieandmelanieanddaisyandsuzanneandzakee
andjinkyandmiriamandleslieannandkamariaandalison!!!!

okay, so in all of this recap i failed to mention that on wednesday after the first VONA workshop, my father invited me to speak to the young adults who routinely/apprehensively drag themselves to the infamous hunter’s point district of san fran for job/life skills work. wednesday’s group of 12 ranged in age from 12 to 17. i am told they choose to come to this space but i can only imagine (by their collectively unenthusiastic slump) that it was more to foray and flirt with adulthood in a protected space than it was for the job skills and life work offered by my dad and the Renaissance administration. in case they hadn’t been told lately—or ever—my talk with them was essentially about the gift of choice. that there were still so many possibilities for them and their lives. that… i know it seems bleak on the dodge and shuffle from base to base, and often like there aren’t many other choices. but that they are brilliant and that their brilliance is one thing no one can ever take it away from them. (you know that one real thing you KNOW is beautiful about yourself. at least you knew it before some hater-spirit in the form of an underloved / underappreciated parent / teacher / sibling / quasi-friend / racist / coach / struggling-child-of-God made you believe otherwise? THAT thing.) i tried to inspire them to get back in touch with that thing. by the end of the class, they seemed, at the very least, engaged... at most, inspired. my prayer is to get back to them sometime soon. i saw so much of myself in that room; walking the line between here and gone forever, wondering whether anyone was listening. i hope they know, i hear their whispers… loud and clear.

on friday immediately following the VONA performance, daddy, the oldest of my 2 younger brothers (malik), his son/my completely adorable nephew khairi and i made the excruciating drive to san diego. there, my “other mother” (malik’s mom/daddy’s 2nd wife… did you get all that?) jameelah hosted a going-away party for our youngest brother, saleem, on saturday, in her gorgeous home. saleem and his wife, beth--who was simultaneously visiting her sister in Arizona--are moving to china on the 27th. (time to find the grant money for travel, y’all!) we got to talk to her via video-chat on my brother’s super snazzy MacBook. (just when i thought i was hip to all of the cool technology…) my younger sister, baheejah, is fully grown and gorgeous and managed to commandeer the kitchen which, under her leadership, produced a full spread fit for our departing vegetarian prince and his carnivorous family. this pseudo-reunion gave me a chance to reconnect with family like “niecey,” who i hadn’t seen since somewhere around the summer of my 8th or 9th year when she would tirelessly braid my hair into intricate plaits and/or foiled and bead-tipped cornrows; and friends like robbie who lived next door who i SWEAR i remember most toddling to and fro shoeless with little more than sagging training pants on... until now. (he’s 26 and fully-clothed, i’m happy to report.) i also met other people of their lives like this lovely young sister named sherehe. (thank you, saleem.) her spirit reminds me so much of mine. her artistic experiences nearly mirrored mine. i am so grateful. so grateful.

the party went late into the night on saturday. sunday, while malik took khairi to disneyland, daddy and i surprised my maternal grandparents, nana and grandpa. daddy laughed that neither their address nor phone number had changed in 40 years, since he dated my mother; which, in my mind means that getting lost in this world is never an option. i think i should sew their contact info to the tags of all of my clothes, just in case i get lost again.

it was a bit surreal to get this much, this beautiful a loving experience on the heels of VONA and bubu. daddy and i picked up grandma mary (his mother) and joined my grandparents, my mother’s brother/my uncle kenny and his wife/my aunt tonya for dinner at grandpa’s favorite spot, red lobster. (have you have the seafood feast lately! it’s INSANE!) bellies and hearts full, daddy and i retired to aunt pat’s in prep of our long trek back to the bay.

at some god-forsaken hour, we managed ourselves into the cab of my brother’s pickup and made it back to the bay by noon. bubu and i did our last bits of running around for his son who was also leaving in the morning for the summer trip out east. we all siphoned what we could from our last moments and …

here i am. back in austin, longing for bliss and poems and bubu.

WHEW! that was a lot. i am feeling much better today than yesterday. the depression has subsided a bit more. blood is circulating again. i had lunch with salihah and naim, which was great though they acted nonchalant my return. (i’ll catch up in stories and kisses tonight, i’m sure.)

so i am working toward my october 1st deadline of completing my first draft of my second collection, thanks for elmaz and my VONA group 1. i will likely not make it to the american black film festival later this month unless a philanthropist happens into my life in the next week or so… right… so i am also i am trying to devise my other plan of attack for these screenplays. any suggestions?

Ok, I’m sick of typing. I am grateful that you hung in with me this long, dear reader. Now that this is outta my system, maybe I can get back to shorter more timely blogs. (haven’t I said that before?)

Always love,
Shia SHABAZZ (fa-evah-evah)