On and on and on and Valentines’
Answer truly, if only for a moment and to yourself: how are you in the home of your body?
I have had such delightful weeks since I last wrote to you. Weeks littered with joy. And because I cannot pick all the confetti joy leaves behind, I have lived days untidy with delight. Which is not to say at this height, I have not had things that have caused me amused laughter. For instance, in a way that I still find strange, I managed to injure both my hands and later on wake up with a sprained neck. How manage? I have no idea. The good news is my left-hand hurts more than my right so I can still write, often with a single hand dancing over the keyboard in cases where my left hand is strained. All the while with my neck slightly tilted to the left. My schedule also amuses me, with its increasing regimentation as I take on more experiments and duties. For some reason—possibly out of delight—I have said so many my dear(s) in the past fortnight that if I say it a few more times I will officially clock forty. I also encountered a strange word that left such a vivid image in my mind: orphanly.
Ever since February began, I have been thinking of Valentines’ day. Even though I know love is a life-long practice, I still consider the day worthy of celebration. As a result, in the ways that I know how, I have been wrapping presents. If you would like a present for Valentines’—which is the reading of a poem, of your choosing or of a theme of your choosing—do send a message indicating this. Kindly send this message at least a week before Valentines’.
Your insightful responses were a delight throughout my fortnight, thank you for them.
On and on and on and other thoughts
VII
The influence of being and becoming, of dualities and those other categories, constantly spirals into other issues.
VIII
In the chorus of his vibes-filled and talking drum pulsing track, Rush, Bella Shmurda refrained the expressions “Life Is Short so ginger yourself / Time, Chance / 50/50 life na dice / Rich, Poor / Las las everybody go kpaiii”. I find the presence of dualities in this chorus interesting. Which is to say to a reasonable extent, the relationship the artiste has with these categories is in a sense a reflection of the average relationship with categories. From the semi-biblical reference of …but time and chance happen to them all, the categories begin, and end with Rich, Poor. And although there is certainly wisdom in the Ecclesiastes 9:11 verse, one begins to consider, how encompassing of causation is the category of Time, Chance? If one is to account for why, for instance, in the race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, how sufficient is time and chance?
Because time and chance potentially extend into several other categories—such as time influencing strategy as in the case of the battle; and time influencing devotion and preparation with regards to time spent as in the case of the race—this category can be viewed as expansive. The extent of its expanse will make the subject of a rather interesting Bible study. You never know, time and chance could deliver a bible-study-letter to you.
What truly draws my interest in the chorus, however, is the expression 50/50 life na dice. It is interesting how forcefully it projects one reality unto the other. How through the lenses of duality; a die, with its 6 sides and a probability of 16.666% for each side becomes equated with a coin, with two sides and a probability of 50% for each side.
The question then arises, Obáfémi, what is the fate of dice in a world of coins? Imagine how people who are inherently different dice have been crushed into the simple categories of heads or tails. It is this imagination that draws me to the story of Katherine May whose autism was undiagnosed until she was 38. Her instance, of course, is in the realm of neurodiversity, but the implications of duality’s limited view of the ways of being human extend to disability, gender, economics, race, sexuality, religion and on and on and on.
IX
Of course, it could be argued that the artiste was using ‘50/50’ as an allusion to taking chances in general, thereby extending the metaphor to life as a gamble.
Readings
This fortnight I have been delighting in sentences and essays and several delicious poems and works that fall out of neat categories. I read my first work of flash, narrative non-fiction late last week. Before I encountered that work, I had never heard of that category. I have been falling in and out of pages of books, reading and rereading. Yet, the most recent reading that I have found joyful is the Eight issue of the perhappened mag. The mag is edited by the insightful isaura ren and features my poem ‘Ode to a woman of a lineage of fire’ alongside 28 other writers including; Jessica Kim, Emma Chan, Catherine Weiss, Mandy Seiner, Taylor Brunson, Sunny Vuong, among others.
The issue is available here.
Enjoy.
Poet's Dictionary Entry
Diaspora [verb]
di·as·po·ra | \ dī-ˈa-sp(ə-)rə \
Definition of diaspora
1a : witnessing a murder without getting blood on your shirt.
Etymology: English word diaspora; from Momtaza Mehri’s poem Reciprocity is a Two-Way Street.
Playlist
Because as Harold Kushner writes: "I am afraid that we may be raising a generation of young people who will grow up afraid to love, afraid to give themselves completely to another person, because they will have seen how much it hurts to take the risk of loving and have it not work out. I am afraid that they will grow up looking for intimacy without risk, for pleasure without significant emotional investment. They will be so fearful of the pain of disappointment that they will forgo the possibilities of love and joy." And bell hooks adds "Young people are cynical about love. Ultimately, cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart." I suggest in the spirit of the season that you face this fear by doing the work of, and remaining open to love. If you’re doing that, love songs of your choosing are a gentle place to start.
Enjoy listening to Paul Anka’s Put your head on my shoulder, Nina Simone’s Ne me quitte pas, Summer Walker’s Nobody else and Lana Del Ray’s Love song.
I wish you a blissful fortnight and a love-filled Valentines'—both for yourself and others—in advance. I hope to read from you soon.
Love,
Ọbáfẹ́mi