A few weeks ago, I went to see “3 1/2 Minutes, Ten Bullets,” a riveting documentary about the shooting death of Jordan Davis at a Jacksonville gas station. It’s well worth your time. On the way out, I picked up a Midtown Art film calendar that had Apu’s face on the cover. Apu as …
I met Maya Angelou in 1983. I worked for the Center for Participant Education at Florida State University and we had invited Angelou to speak on campus. I went with my friend Graciela Cuervo to fetch her at the Tallahassee airport, shook her hand and said: “Maya, I am so happy to finally meet you.” She was …
Continue reading “'I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise, I rise, I rise'”
A headline in my hometown newspaper brought me to tears this morning. B.P. Panesar had died. He was a renowned artist. Water color. Oil. Etchings. He was also made a name as mentor to Shakila, a poor village woman who gained fame for her collages. He gave away his earnings as an artist to charity. …
Many years ago, I walked through the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto, mesmerized that the history of mankind could be told through footwear — from caveman to Christian Laboutin. I was fascinated, given my penchant for shoes. (Yes, I have way too many.) So when I stumbled upon the Tassen Museum Hendrikje in Amsterdam recently, …
Used to be the Olympics mirrored the Cold War – a head-to-head battle for medals between the United States and The Soviet Union. Now, it’s between the USA and China. In London, American might won out with 104 medals versus China’s 84. I suppose the Olympic medal counts give you a good idea …
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