the best response to 9-11, to america since 9-11, to katrina. the best response i’ve ever seen to us. to who we are, now. “the 51st (dream) state”

video, song, instrumentation. poetry. art saving us, saved me, last night. rescued me from the haze of fear-speak and new-speak and double-speak. from politicians who don’t know how to speak.

my husband and i laughed and clapped and gave up the umph and humph and mmmm that expresses depth. we expressed connection to great art last night. deep connection to powerful word over sound through image and sometimes even over breakbeats brother sekou made with his own mouth. make the music with your mouth, biz…

sekou’s beautiful wife maureen was there with their daughter and her mother. all beautiful women, three generations watching husband/father/son-in-law. cheryl boyce taylor, poet herself, sat near the front row. a wonderful sister, mireille massae, and i got to know one another before the show. and then afterwards, like the subway, a moving mass of everyone, the whole world, filled the lobby. sisters wrapped in hijab, brothers from around the way in braids and do-rags, older brothers in matching maroon suits, younger white folk in millennial grunge, older white folk with perfect bobs and tasteful jewelry, brilliant older sisters – artists, for sure – radiant in mid-life and expressing glory with cleverly cut silver hair: humanity glowing with vitality. high on art. circulating, greeting, bumping into each other.

i love brooklyn.