Mondays With Artists / National Treasure 3: Horses, Flowers, and People

It’s back, guys!!!!

When my mother shamed me into thinking I was a talentless whore (I won't go into it), I ended up taking down my Mondays With Artists posts, but I will no longer hide my light under a bushel! I just got a letter in the mail—complete with Polaroids—that was too good to keep to myself.

To Whom It May Concern:

I have the honor of knowing [An Old Lady Name]. Her gifts deserve worldwide recognition. I think an article on her would be a great human story. Here’s a bit on her life and work. I’d bet you’ll agree she is one very interesting gal.

[Okay, we go from referring to her as an ‘honor to know’ then get all folksy and warm, saying she’s a ‘gal’…I’m not sure what to make of this.]

A treasure, a living, breathing, treasure…how else to describe a woman who has lived a inspiring life for 76 years.
[Because there’s no question mark at the end, I assume this is not up for debate.]

As a youngster, she was clearly out of the box. She resorted to drastic measures to defy a school system that couldn’t respect her gifts, such as putting red dots on her face to feign chicken pox. Her candid portraits of people and horses and flowers are distinctive*.
[* Isn’t that a word you use when something is ugly, but you want to be nice?]

To my mind she is a national treasure, a strong independent, dutiful artist, doing her art of living for anyone lucky enough to know her to witness.

[I don’t know what to make of this last sentence.]

Guys, when I’m old and random and talking about my glory days, will you write to Comedy Central and tell them that I’m a treasure? A living, breathing, national treasure?

Journey to the Center of CAUCASIA

In approximately 5 hours I will board a plane bound for Stockholm, Sweden, where I will spend 2 weeks. This will be plane number 14 in approximately 9 weeks. It will be my third journey into a different time zone. It will be frequent flyer miles 5,298,001-8,515,210.

I'm excited.
And fearful.

Not only will this be my first trip with one of my best friends--and the first time I've traveled with someone since developing my comfort and habits as a lone wolf/blackpacker--but I'll be in Scandinavia. The epicenter of Caucasian culture. Where pigment is a mere figment of the imagination!

I'm scared it's going to be very.... Village of the Damned.

AAAHHHH!!!! Inside Caucasia!

One friend said to me, "You go to the whitest vacation spots." Well, I'm sorry if this diminishes my 'negrosity,' but I believe that only by going deep inside Caucasia can I truly learn their ways. Like Nicholas Cage in Face/Off, I will go deep undercover--incognegro, if you will--and find out about Swedes. Packing list features:
-Hip boots, to combat the 40-degree temperatures.
-Sunglasses, to fend off the Swedish paparazzi who'll think I'm Michelle Obama.
-Eclipse, the third book in the Twilight series. After all, nothing prepares you for Caucasia like pasty vamps.
-The movie Juno, freshly uploaded onto my iPod. I'm not really sure why. Maybe cause it shows what trials and tribulations Caucasia can get through with a few smartly placed quips?


Okay, I'm off to finish packing and learn key Swedish phrases (such as "Do you have a girlfriend?" and "I'd like red wine, please"). Wish me luck! I hope to have hard-hitting news from my journey into the center of CAUCASIA* very soon.


*I hope my use of 'Caucasia' doesn't offend anyone. I mean, some of my best friends are White.

Moving on From the Great De-HATERS-- With a Little Hope and MAGIC

The blacktress is suffering from a blacklash.
My mixed emotion and exaggeration regarding a white valedictorian of Morehouse and HBCUs in general has garnered some fierce opposition.

Well, as much as I’d love to discuss this some more with people who think I’m a self-hating negro, I’d rather move on, and entertain my loyal readers with some of Sojourner’s other truths.
This Friday night, at 6:30pm, I will be going to Neutral Ground to learn how to play Magic cards.

I kid you not.
One blog reader was deeply moved by my rejection by a Magic-card playing fellow, and offered to teach me his ways—or, as he really said: “I can tell that you deeply regret not playing Magic cards and dungeons & dragons and wearing shirts with wolves on them while in high school. I can teach you.”
I eagerly accepted—not only because I love nerdy awkwards and want to find a way into their inner circle, but because, in the words of Nicholas Cage in the hit action film “Face/Off”: To defeat him, I must become him.
TRUTH.

I’ve never been to Neutral Ground, where much of this "gaming" takes place, but it’s an establishment where young creative types can engage in role-playing and card games, and don their finest medieval attire among like-minded individuals.

I imagine it will be dimly lit and smell lightly of body odor, emanating from the teenagers who have yet to discover deodorant and are sweating profusely in excitement as they “tap their mana.”
That’s a Magic term.
I’m not sure what it means.
But I will find out.

In preparation for my Friday night of fun, I’ve gone to everyone’s favorite lending library, Wikipedia. Here’s an excerpt from its treatise on Magic:
Each game represents a battle between powerful wizards who use the magical spells, items, and fantastic creatures depicted on individual Magic cards to defeat their opponents. Although the original concept of the game drew heavily from the motifs of traditional fantasy role-playing games such as Dungeons & Dragons, the gameplay of Magic bears little resemblance to pencil-and-paper adventure games, while having substantially more cards and more complex rules than many other card games.

“Substantially more cards”?!
“More complex rules”?
“Battle between powerful wizards”?!

Perhaps I’m in over my head. I’ve been out of college too long to grasp complex rules and hold multiple cards in my hand. I asked my guide a few questions about this foreign land to prepare myself for my immersion in “the other”. They included:

Is it anything like Go Fish? (if so, I’m prepared)
What, if any, connection does Neutral Ground have to the Underground Railroad?
Should I dress slutily in hopes of winning over an awkward man who has yet to know the tender touch of a woman?

His response:
It is nothing like go fish. I will be wearing whatever I wear to work. You should wear something like this:


I am going to buy this shirt and cut strategically placed and sexually suggestive slits in it.

I am so excited! I don’t know what to expect! What I know is this:

It is free to enter this “neutral ground” (ironically, the ground is called “neutral,” although much dueling takes place)—unless you are under the age of 18. They do this to discourage riff-raff from loitering about and selling cards in the manner of Prohibition-era smugglers (“I’ll give you two for $5, or 4 for $17, see?????”—imagine the child saying this while gesturing with a cigar).

From the establishment’s website, I don’t doubt a good time will be had, for its mission statement “is to provide the best possible gaming experience to everyone that enters our store. We offer comfortable seating, a clean and friendly atmosphere, and a huge selection of snacks and drinks to enjoy while gaming.”
Um, SNACKS?!
I’m in there like swimwear!!!

My guide (who shall remain nameless, because he is trapped in the closet about his card playing, much in the manner of R. Kelly--only without a firearm) says that I will be the hottest girl in the room, even hotter than the characters on the cards—who the young gentlemen apparently talk about with excitement.

I holla’d at a google image search just to get a sense of what the beauty standards were. Here’s what I found:



The card says “her sword sings more beautifully than any choir”—but is it a gospel choir????? I think not.

Wish me luck at Neutral Ground, guys!