bryanjazz

(photo by DJ Markey)

My cousin Ursula died on December 22, 2008. More than a close relative, she was my mutually self-proclaimed godmother, both my guide and my confidante...my best friend.

She was my rock to lean on, my compass in navigating through the sea of life.

As I began to capture them in words, those were the thoughts that prompted the flow of emotions.

How does one travel the sea without a compass?

Ursula & Iman (my godson)...or Imri, his twin. :)More than any other person in the world, Ursula "understood" who I am and loved me for me. I am reminded of that common teenage concern - "no one understands me!" - as I reflect on how, when I was a teenager,  she was the first person I ever "came out to". Though I had no doubt of her acceptance, I remember how nervous and anxiety-ridden I was -- to speak my truth to another person. Her acceptance, nurturing and support before and since that moment have been not only invaluable, but integral to who I am as a person.  The best parts of me have been informed by the love and wisdom she shared with me. I am truly fortunate to have experienced and learned the meaning of unconditional love.

At times like these, the words I often turn to that help to shape my experience are from Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran's The Prophet, a book that Ursula also appreciated. In the section "On Death", the prophet speaks (excerpt):

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open you heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams,
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Dreaming (photo by DJ Markey)Ursula's heart was open so wide to the body of life, and to the lives of others. Her years of working...her many years of pouring her soul and being into advocacy for families of children with disabilities, and especially those in underserved communities is known throughout the country. At the same time, she had a deep reservoir from which she gave so much to family and friends, who's lives and souls she could touch with just a word or two, a poignant joke or a timely smile (she had a legendary sense of humor). And through it all she was constantly dreaming...always speaking of possibilities...of what could be created tomorrow. Is that not what life is about?Ursula & son, Teiko, "We just voted Obama"

But it is not death most on my mind as I settle into the new year, but friendship. For I have lost my oldest and dearest friend...one who has known me my entire life...through all that the body of life has shown me. She was the person I could tell anything to, and indeed, proceeded to do so. And she, in turn, shared so much with me. I am happy that several of the people in many aspects of my life got a chance to meet her, and that she got to view more of me by meeting them.

Ursula and son, Duane (d. 1998)She was loved, treasured and valued by so many people from all walks of life. Many appreciated how she had the ability to know the essence of you, that highest part of your self; and to show it to you...reflect it back to you, for you both to behold and see the beauty. It was a gift she naturally and effortlessly gave to those she called "friend." And no matter how one came to know her, whether through family, work, community or life, at the basis of her closest relationships, she was a friend. "On Friendship" the prophet speaks (excerpt):

When your friend speaks his mind
you fear not the "nay" in your own mind,
nor do you with hold the "aye."
And when he is silent
your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts,
all desires, all expectations are born and shared,
with joy that is unclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not,
For that which you love most in him
may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain
to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship
save the deepening of the spirit.

...

For what is your friend
that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need,
but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship
let there be laughter,
and the sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things
the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Chillin' at JazzFest: Jamila, Ursula & BryanIt is this deepening of spirit that I will sorely miss...shared desires and expectations...unclaimed joy. I have long believed that at the heart of great friendship is the "dew of little things." The sharing of the small pleasures that weave into the moments of life. Those are the things that combine with moments of laughter and accumulate to then cause that smile that emerges on your face as you look down the street and you see that it is your friend that is approaching. Whether it was our shared love of food, or music; or the fact that Ursula and I had the same favorite color (purple); or the sharing of cooking tips and secrets; hearing about her famous finds on ebay; our watching infomercials together (LOL); or the fact that we both, understandably, remove our glasses before eating (either you just get this...or you don't, LOL)...it is these little things, thrown in with the the more dramatic lows and highs of life, that form the spices that enhance the flavor of great friendships. Which then cause you to "seek him with hours to live."

Om Supreme California: Ursula and husband, Dempsey "DJ" (photo by B. Glover)I cannot yet say that I grieve not. When the parting at first seemed so unfathomable, I wondered how this next part of my journey would be without her. And yet, as I continue to feel her presence, as I remember all that she has given me, and still does, my heavy heart is somewhat lightened. For this loss is far outweighed by all that I have gained through being fortunate enough to have known and loved Ursula Arceneaux Markey...to have had her in my life.

So perhaps, like the climber who sees a mountain he knows he can no longer climb, I can begin to appreciate Ursula's majesty from a distance. And perhaps, with her constancy in my field of vision, I will be able to construct a compass with which to navigate this sea of life.

Ache

(for more on Ursula, see this article from the Times-Picayune.)

Who woulda thunk it? That I would be in Ghana on the occasion of one of the rare spectacles of nature. It was a pretty amazing site to see. The photos are only a pale artifact of the phenomenon of seeing the sun blackout and experiencing few moments of darkness midmorning.

Photos by J. Amuzo

Perhaps you can experience the next one on Aug. 1, 2008 in one of the following locations: Nunavut, Greenland, Siberia, Mongolia and China (source).Hmmmm....that's not a bad idea. (more photos here)

So I'm trying out this new gizmo (over to the left). I have been thinking about having my current location displayed on the site for a while, in a way more interesting than just saying "I am in [enter exotic location here]." So I did a little research (i.e., a Google search) over the weekend and found Plazes through a website called high earth orbit.

"Plazes is a grassroot approach to location-aware interaction, using the local network you are connected to as location reference." (from their website)

Along with similar services, they are called social mapping/tracking web service apps, based on geographical information systems (GIS) technology. It's pretty cool, maybe a precursor to the comm badges they used in Star Trek, which were not only communications devices but also location trackers.

This technology was very useful, post-Katrina. As folks in the New Orleans diaspora were scattered around the country, many were wondering about the condition of their homes, and just how high flood waters rose in their particular area (which turned out to be wildly unpredictable in light of the city's irregular topography). This site by C&C Technologies was a much welcome resource because, in tandem with Google maps (which is promoting use of their service), folks were able to see information about flood waters in the city more precisely than they could via the satellite images alone on the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's site. There were a few people to whom (when we were able to connect by phone in the immediate aftermath) I was able to give a little information about the city and the specific location in which they were interested, since I had online access.

I also found that there are a whole bunch of people who are really into (GIS) and keeping up with the development of the technology, and still others who are into the possibilites it provides for social networking.

All that is a little intense for me, but I did want a way to let my 5 regular readers (LOL) know the current city in which I was located, especially as I prepare to start traveling again. :-)

I met LeRoy Whitfield 14 years ago. It was the spring of 1991, my last year in Chicago, that city which I love so much, yet which I felt compelled to leave then as my spirit called me out and onward into new territory. LeRoy and I got to know each other pretty well that spring, yet as the summer rolled through, and fall found me heading east, we lost touch as folks sometimes do, no matter how good the times are that they share. (Well, to be honest, we had some kind of falling out, as folks often do too. LOL) What I remember most about him from that period, besides his beautiful spirit and smile, was his dream and determination to become a leading journalist, perhaps the anchor of a major broadcast.

It was several years later before we connected again. It was at an AIDS conference in Miami. He now had locks, and it wasn't until half way through dinner that we realized when and where we had known each other before(!), which, in that moment, created a deeper bond between us than that of colleagues in the field that had brought us together again. Yet, it was AIDS and its impact on our community that did shape much of our discussion and sharing, as we were both working in the field, and he was also living with HIV. One of the things that I always admired about him, was not only his passion about addressing AIDS and the Black community, but also his commitment to challenging the conventional wisdom about it. Keith Boykin has an excellent remembrance of him and links to some of his writings on his website. More than just a workaholic, LeRoy took his work very seriously.

LeRoy's spirit also moved him into new territory...he moved to New York City in 2000. His career blossomed, and he became one of the nation's leading journalists on AIDS and the black community, writing for Vibe, HIV Plus and POZ (where he served as a while as senior editor). As the epidemic continued to grow in the Black community, he continued to witness it through his writings. And our conversations often turned to "what is to be done?" as the numbers continued to rise. There were no easy answers.

LeRoy and I also shared a great passion for many other things, two in particular: a deep love for Chicago and a joy for all things Apple...as in Macintosh. We giddily connected as hard core Mac fans, appreciators of the beautiful elegance of the Mac OS. There's a certain, ok, zealousness about us Mac users that elicits joy when we find out about each other. And LeRoy and I were no recent "switchers". We prided ourselves as having been Mac users for some nearly 20 years. We shared the joy if one of us got an upgrade. From various peripherals and third-party software to the performance of Tiger on the PowerBook, we loved to talk Mac. He was an early adopter, one of the first I knew of to try things, like Bluetooth to wirelessly sync devices. I relied on him for advice on gadgetry, from hardware to software, and we loved to speculate about the future of technology, especially Macs. He was the first person I knew to get an iSight, which later enabled me to see him in live video through iChat when I was in Ghana. Waaay cool!!

As far as Chicago goes, he always profoundly missed the place. There was a way he talked about the windy city which revealed that New York, with all of its offerings, was still missing a certain something from home. There is a certain grounded, down-to-earth quality that I connected to in Chicago and which I have seen in many of those from the city; a quality which I appreciated in LeRoy. Both of us were transplants to the East Coast, however, and our last time together was up in New York this summer, in Harlem, where he had finally found (after a long search) a very nice apartment on Striver's Row -- strewn with, among other things, an extensive collection of old Wired magazines he was wondering if he should keep, LOL (and a new cordless phone...always some new gadget). It was a beautiful, sunshiny day, and he mentioned getting out more. Our conversation was mostly serious, though not somber, as we walked around Harlem and talked about the future. He shared with me his decision to get a home health aide, and the difficulty leading to it. But, he was doing fine, he said. He was enjoying Harlem, beginning to feel good about it, he said. I sensed a spiritual weariness in him, though, and resignation. I wanted there to be something I could say or do, something I could give him, to take "it" all away...

It was always a pleasure to chat with LeRoy. And even better to see him. For a string of years we would always hang out on or near his birthday. As it so happened, the annual conference which reunited us usually took place around the date. I did not attend that conference these last few years, but I would generally give him a birthday shout out. I did not call LeRoy on September 19 this year. I thought about him that day and in the weeks that followed. It's interesting how someone can be so strongly on your mind, yet you don't reach out. It's funny how someone can be so strongly on my mind, yet I don't reach out...

LeRoy Whitfield left this plane of existence on October 9, 2005.

I always saw in LeRoy so much...so much passion, so much care and concern, so much love. I always felt that his voice was so much larger than what the world was able to hear. The following quote from Charles Mingus keeps coming to mind:

Here is a piece I wrote in 1939 and I wrote it like this because I thought in 1939 I would probably get it recorded some day. But when you have to wait 30 years to get one piece played----what do you think happens to a composer who is sincere and loves to write and has to wait 30 years to have someone play a piece of his music? That was when I was energetic and wrote all the time. Music was my life. Had I been born in a different country or had I been born white, I am sure I would have expressed my ideas long ago.

Charles Mingus, referring to his composition,
“The Chill of Death” on
Let My Children Hear Music

I know there were many, many compositions in LeRoy's consciousness that were not yet brought to life. Unfortunately, we won't have the next 30 years to see them blossom.

What we do have, though, is the memory of a beautiful man, a loving spirit, who through sharing his voice touched many lives, and who through sharing himself through friendship touched many hearts. He touched my heart deeply.

Ache.

I have to acknowledge that I really do like the fall. It is the harvest time, after all. Even though I love spring and summer, and prefer heat to cold, there is always something nice about the cooling off. Like walking into an air conditioned room on a hot summer day. What I usually do is hold it against autumn that her close friend, winter, is following right behind her.

Today is the first day of autumn. This year, I will embrace and enjoy it fully.