maureen from grenada, caribbean

Chant for Peace

Once again I return to creative musings here on the page. Getting to the canvas these days seems challenging. My body is in front of the canvas but my mind is on writing. I realize one of my writing blocks has to do with waiting for the opportune time to write. I realize now there will never be an opportune time to write and I have to be more proactive. So now I take back the time, thief the time and write whenever, wherever. So now I write while I wait for the spaghetti to boil, just before hanging the clothes, a few minutes before I begin to paint for the day, just before I go to bed, while I am waiting for the bus, or my tea to cool. I still hunger for more direction; more focus but am confident that will follow. I need to listen more from the inside and let go of this incessant fear of getting it right rather then getting it down on paper.

I have three writing projects that sit in the middle of my journal. One is a poem to my favorite writer, social activist, poet, Buddhist practitioner, Alice Walker. I am writing this poem to address a comment that Ms. Walker made at a lecture she gave in San Francisco. A friend of mine who attended the lecture last year just recently revealed to me Ms. Walker’s comment in relation to not being able to forgive white women. Alice talked about forgiveness throughout the lecture and when asked if there was anyone she did not forgive she said “white women”. I have no idea what context this was in and I can only hope I am not one of the white women she cannot forgive as I would be devastated to know that one of my favorite writers; one who I aspire, adore and love deeply for the words, emotions and vibes she relates has grouped me with the white women of her past and present whom she cannot forgive. Anyways I wanted to write a poem to Alice with absolutely no idea of what she holds deep within, what her ancestors hold deep within, what it is like to be a black women growing up in the American South. I think of my daughter who is Grenadian, who is both black and white but whose skin is light honey and looks more like a white child then a black child. Will Maya also be one of the white women Alice cannot forgive? Dear Alice what did you mean when you said this? And am I exempt in any way, and my daughter please forgive her for being born the colour soft honey no where near the creamy chocolaty colour of her dad.

My second writng project is a letter to an old boyfriend of mine who just finished 6 years working in Geneva for the World Trade Organization along with his wife Deerdre who worked for United Nations. We had drinks together after attending a Bruce Cockburn (brilliant man, brilliant musician) concert. I was quite disturbed at their remarks, assumptions and comments concerning race and poverty. These young academic Canadians are part of the global decision makers and policy makers and are so ignorant of the people whom their decisions affect the most. I have been formulating a letter in my head to them for the past few weeks but the pleaser in me does not want to offend or come off as If I am the spokesperson for less privileged people.

The third writing project is a letter to Micheal Franti an incredible African American musician who writes and sings powerful conscious music and who recently went to the Middle East with his guitar and his friends and documented the human cost of war. Please see this documentary called “I know I’m not alone”. I wanted to write him a letter to thank him and to invite him to Grenada so he can share his prophetic musical vibes with the youths here and so I can make him dinner and introduce him to Theo!

Besides jumping into my passion to write, I am also painting and creating more beautiful bountiful women who continue to evolve naturally on the canvas. First week I arrived back to Grenada commissions started to flow and I was back to the peaceful meditation of dancing women. I continue to walk and sit and stretch my body and write my way into the many colourful creative projects I am embarking on.

One love.

maureen