colonized cages /children on the outside of the car /i’m sorry god for that / collected moons in a california bus / carnival of sound / hi-fi lipstick / awoke in a car in african dust / kneeling under a table of rain / II
Weléla Mar Kindred’s new work with the above title probes into the hubris response to the colonizing of the black female body. This installation shifts from themes of tension, release, flesh, spirit, and her own experience of boundaries from religion.
she looked out the window, and saw nothing but tall green grass.
the air was quiet, and again the birds were asleep.
the sun had gone down, in circle, like the golden ratio. it gave the sky a pink tomorrow.
louia b. louie b
grandma.
i wish i could fly on golden wings to hold your hands
feed you chocolate hand rolled from paris, cultivated in madagascar, flown
in my knapsack.
i wish i could sit at your side and stroke your hair. maybe even paint your nails red
i wish i could cook you a big pot of my new soup, that may mend your broken heart
it's a sweet potato shredded red cabbage lentil quinoa soup, with a dash of fresh dill x cilantro.
it'll rock your soul, grandma.
send you to heaven with a big old smile on yo face.
promise.
i began my moon cycle today. i rode my bike for two hours today. i got a job today. got paid for one. and i got a hand me down juicer today grandma.
i miss your laugh.
i'd say.
grandma.
i'd say.
you would of have liked the quai d'orsay.
you would of have liked my friend debbie deb.
you would of have liked my life today.
Louie B, fell to the floor, knees hands raised, praying over the sound of the car engine that just erupted.
the house was too hot, the scent of cologne was still lingering, minutes gone by, her throat dry, but numb with custard from lemon tarts they shared with coffee flavored eyes.
she came out of her room, saw her father and gave him the letter.
the letter came from a place call Lost Angels.
what do lost angels sound like when they realize the light is no longer there.
later babies who later became my mother and aunt, picked sweet potates from the farm great granddaddy used to keep.
sweet potatoes that needed nothing but love and served hot buttered and fresh from the oven, served on a warm plate.
served with
my grandma, louisana, my grandma, sweet louie b.
sweet louie b.
her beau made tomorrow look like today, ran so fast through them fields that the rabbit lost track of the flowers that fell from her eyelids as he passed by barefoot, tie undone, and hair tattered. a white boy ain't supposed to be on that side of town.
naw he wasn't white, he was red, with creek indian and irish blood, but that history didn't come through yet.
*Note to reader:
a letter / poem to grandma
written summer 2012
read to her over the phone from:
paris to oakland
she now lives in a home / can't move her legs / can't remember me
maybe words and skin make it better
art: marcus mcallister
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
SAVE THE DATE ::: Le 6 octobre 2012
NUIT BLANCHE 2012 (19h–2h)
Space: Les Salaison Art Contemporain
Performance : Weléla Mar Kindred
Performance : Y Liver
Lecture : Anne - Laure Bonte
Projection : Rencontres Internationales de l’art vidéo et du film court
Installation : André Robillard, Julie Dalmon, Perrine Lacroix, Claude Lévêque
http://www.salaisons.org/
The brand new website for my short - danse film, 'Come on Children, Rise.' Here is a portrait of some of my characters. Stay tuned! #Rise Comeonchildrenrise.com
One: play richie havens : listen & find the rain within yourself.
if there is no water or no moon then continue on and on and on
two: after listening :: begin to read the poeme to someone else while eating something sweet & drinking something sweeter :: sit with them & ask them to close their eyes :: while filling the air with incense : let us begin
f / illed up
Take my hand
It’s all I have to give
My hand
If you give me my heart back
She left him standing there
Picked up her black bag
Thinking :: she was willing to give her right hand for her heart
Such a noble act she thought, since she was left handed
She was left, with two working hands, but no heart
Her right hand seemed useless, tired
It did nothing while she wrote poemes for him
Her right hand sat at the end of her limb, doing nothing while she fed herself
It seemed useless in a fight, since all she had left were scars where her love once laid
He had hair that curled, coiled, and seemed to follow a spiral violent row of cacao
His hair did not blow in the wind like others, it could not – it protested and it was steadfast
This man had her heart, what did he want to do with it
Place it in a glass case, red and sore
Beating no more, love only a ceremony said once
If he did not want her, then why worship this piece, the machine kept quietly in her soul
The only thing that kept time without instruction
But would endure love, she thought was it’s only function
He did not answer her, he took the one thing that belonged to her on a summer’s day
Rainy and planted his hands into her plenty to take her sound of a seagull morning
He walked away with time in his hand, gathering her minutes with every single step
Her world stopped, time stood still while they were apart
But he had no idea the crime that he committed
Was the taking of a young girl’s heart
That is why she thought her right hand would suffice
Since her heart was lying there in a stranger’s hand
Whom never even thought of her twice.
three: (and tested)
so the nose is quaint
a small asymmetrical shape / all of it
you’re face is hidden beyond the helmet
but we recognize you nonetheless
she had hidden her hand
the entire trip, when we got onto the train, she hid it
eyebrows were so shaped like frida that she looked sad all by herself
you turned away
i went north
put hand in the pocket /
i could not find you, east /
before i loose you / south
her hand was made of something : dirty plastic : still : dry
unwet : sure of it’s shape : the train doors open her false hand
west
one complete square
must remember how it felt when you comb my hair
goldfish did not make it
feel again / put hand in the pocket
went in one complete square for you
laughing with her / legs and arms held out
/ head and neck not wanting to be still
Notes: Written over the span of two years (2010 - 2012)
Sound: Richie Havens
Tupelo Honey / Just Like a Woman
BBC
So it's time to wear your brightest, thrift store layers, unplug from the labtops, and come out of your caves!
We have two things we'd like to share with you.
One, The Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt Classes begin April 28!
Two, we have Ilé Aiyé Yoga Hatha yoga classes for those days you just want to put your nose to your knees!
The Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt: Spring Saturdays!
Classes begin April 28th and every Saturday in May! Our goal is to get you moving and in true Rainbow Noir fashion adding a touch of theater.
Did you know the heart chakra has even more memory than the brain? Interesting, I know. So when you move (in color), your heart can feel it, and that's a good thing.
Being that Rainbow Noir is inspired by danse theater, our classes will be all levels from beginning to professionals, one big dancing community. Cours included...
Modern
African
Theater
When: April 28th & Every Saturday in May ( 5 . 12 . 19 . 26 )
Where: Theater of The American Church in Paris 65 quai D'Orsay, 75007
When: 12h30 - 14h00
This cannot be missed!
Ilé Aiyé Yoga: This is a Hatha yoga collective founded by yours truly Weléla Mar.
Classes may be scheduled as workshops, privates, or even on sunny days with small groups in the park.
All cours are by donation! We believe danse & yoga should not only be good for you, but good for your pocketbook.
Super feel good moment :: Your donation will help support a youth mission trip to Gabon 2012 in partnerhship with Envision + The American Church in Paris!
Love,
The Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt
rainbownoirdanse@gmail.com
This Saturday come out with friends to share good food and good music at the annual fundraiser for Mission's Outreach.
The Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt is honored to perform an original work entitled "Love."
Choreography: Weléla Mar Kindred
See you soon and can't wait for the good vibes!
Date: March 31, 2012 Saturday Where: Theatre of the American Church in Paris - 65 Quai D'Orsay 75007 Paris Metro: Alma Marceau, Line 9 Invalides, Line 13
Time: 7:30pm -10:30pm
Special Performances by:
Koro Kagny - West African Djembe Ahmed Ben Abdallah - Violonist with the Tunisian Symphonic Orchestra - Maghrebian/Orientale music
Dance performances by: The Rainbow Noir Danse Projekt: Choreography by Weléla Mar Kindred ACP Youth - Choreography by Rebman
To RSVP, please also contact Deborah First-Quao 07 86 36 00 40 debbie@first-quao.com
PLEASE READ BELOW FOR MORE INFO ON WHERE YOUR FUNDS WILL GO
From July 7-20, 2012 approximately fifteen team members from our congregation will be traveling to Libreville, Gabon and partnering with Envision Culture during our stay in Africa. If you would like more information about this host organization and the country of Gabon, please visit their website: Envision Culture
