REFLECTION & REASON

As I configure my perspectives about the public figures I receive inspiration from, this year I have tried to reconcile my approach to listening to and implementing sounds, words, and ideologies from the various voices broadcast to me. I've already given up on many of the elite musicians and Hollywood A-List types. Whether they are actually the evil do-ers they're alleged to be, or if they're unfortunately just victims of Babylon's System and a twisted form of artistic slavery, I have made an executive decision to just enjoy their music, movies, and "personas" as is: as entertainment. If I happen to be inspired along the way, then even better. Needless to say, the lyrics, performances, interviews, statements, and characters that I innocently enjoyed for decades, have been...tainted at best. The songs still hit. The movies, productions, and autobiographies are still motivational by design...but the people. The people's images have been deeply compromised. B...

I wanted to love this movie. I really did. I love Tyler Perry : I think he's a fabulous writer and brilliant businessman. I love Gabrielle Union : I think she's a classy lady and amazing actress. I love Thandie Newton : she's gorgeous, and can act her ass off! I love Phylicia Rashad (who doesn't), and I love to see a majority-black cast in movies (it's still rare, what can I say?) But THIS particular movie...I didn't love it. I had to see it on opening day for a few reasons: 1) To support the box-office cause ( and yes, I still purchase CDs in the store too ). 2) To avoid being tainted by the reviews and feedback of others...kinda like I'm doing to you right now. 3) Because Tyler Perry has the ability to inspire, and tell a hell of a story...usually. And I was ready for it! But when the movie ended and the credits began to roll...I did the 1-minute-look-at-the-screen-with-a-blank-stare like..." oooooook ?" Now what. Unfulfilled. I was expectin...

Black History Month has new significance to me each year. This particular Black History Month, 2011, I would like to pay hommage to the Black Writers who have influenced and inspired me with their words through the various stages of my growth as a writer. Inspiration is a difficult thing to describe--but something I can't deny when I feel it. Whether it comes from music, a conversation, an observation, or deliberate instruction, inspiration as a writer is the moving spirit that leads you directly to the nearest computer, notepad, or BlackBerry to jot down your thoughts and your plan to develop them. As a writer, I seldom have a specific method to my literary madness. There's no set writing "time," writing "place," or writing "process." When the inspiration hits me...I write. And so I often find myself seeking inspiration in experiences: concerts, travel, music, productions, new friendships, or by witnessing the legacies and creations of those writ...