Lemi Ghariokwu is on something...

And whatever it is, I want some of it!
So i was at this book reading on tuesday and no sooner than I got there and managed to score some kiss space on Jeremy Weate's cheek, and scooter into one of the chairs, had the event begun.
It was about Doreen and Toni' s book, or actually it was more about the topic of Eros and Desire in African writing, a matter which i'm very invested in since, i'm working on a book that pretty much sits on that.
(Spoiler alert...... my manuscript is on a modern say succubus.)
I do have to appreciate the fact that this topic is timely, and not only because i'm suffering from an over-kill of the mascot-writing that African writers do nowadays that makes them so self-conscious. all art must mean something and be for a purpose, but enough already with pre and post colonial issues, wars, child soilders, immigration stories and the like.
In the middle of all these, we, Africans are still living lives, that even though, they may be colored by these experiences, these experiences do not have to be the excuse or reason to pick up the pen, or tap on the keyboard.
I want to hear someone tell a story, simple.
And so did the pair of Toni Kan, and Doreen Baigana, in their books Nights of the Creaking Bed, ad Tropical Fish respectively
Had they, in my book, earned their place to moderate this discussion...hell yes.
So, where was i? okay, late and looking for a seat, which i found next to a rather slight, rather attractive man in brown ankara, who actually practically pulled the chair out for me.
And about thirty minutes later, out of the blues (in the middle of one of the readings) it suddeny hit me why the man was rather familiar, this was Mr Lemi Gharioukwu!
http://naijablog.blogspot.com/2009/09/lemi.html
The reading was nearly spoilt for me, because now I couldn't concentrate.
I ran huge colorful Fela murals through my head, and started humming the tune to "Omolakeji" (who remembers this tune when Lemi went to the music studio?), and I started to wonder that if the man looks like he is his thirties now.... my age), how could he have been alive for me to have remembered what he did when I was a mere wee baby?
It was clear, there was only one thing for it. the man must be on some secret potion to keep looking this way, and since im still doing the research on the myth of ever lasting youth, I was going to reach over and ask him to 'fess up.
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That space represents me hesitating on whether to, if to, and how to ask someone famous if he practices juju to maintain his youthful looks. any of you think you know better than me how to do it, feel free to add your ITK comments here.
Of course I didnt ask him, but I'm following his progress (closer) from now on. Just in case he slips up one day and lets his juju bag of goat bones, shea butter, cowrie shells, pigeon fat, etc. fall down and the contents scatter to the ground...i'm so blogging about it.!

Okay world,
its been a minute.
the good news, while i will know, that i am not a good blogger, I have been making a lot of progress in the other thing that I have been spending my time doing
Which im not going to jinx by talking about it too much..but lets give it a picture shall we?
here's my portrait of art.

I know what I shuldnt be

Okay, there are some people that should be bloggers and some other should just be happy to be readers and blog-stalkers.
I mean what was i thinking??? wasting my time and some of the other people that have ever bothered to stumble on my page and look here.
And would you know if it wasn't that i wasn't (my grammar o...) always on the internet, one would understand, but i'm always here, looking at writing, books, hair, fashion, jewelery, craft, kitchen-sinking etc.
then I go over to what is the excuse of this straggly site, tut-tut my head, promise to do better, and then leave.
And guess what happens?
Sigh, sigh.....im shameless, i tell you.
and then something i have thought about I remember exactly ten years ago, that there were two broad categories of people in this world, the players and the audience.
and most of us like to think as players, but guess what the truth is?
And like everyone i have spent so much time convincing myself that i was a player when the truth might be different?
I believe the world ,might just be an easier place if people (and i'm talking to myself here) defined where we were supposed to be, where we want to be ( and then work hard enough for it) and stop biting nails.
SO i make a promise to myself to move my body and brains and put an end to this life lethargy.
here's hoping

Getting out of a rut

3 days ago, i took an unplanned journey of of Lagos into Ibadan ( I was just about to type "the city of..." in front of Ibadan, one of those things we find ourselves saying without really knowing why.
Ibadan has a somewhat glorious reputation as a quaint city, rather full of collective memory, representing something of a certain era, perhaps a certain je-ne-sais-quoi of arts.
But what i found was a city that had a certain peace, while still hinting of something old but deep inside.
Even taking a walk inside the hot air, on the grounds of the University of Ibadan, I felt a certain something that I was trying to put on paper later, but could not quite.
I will blog later about the event that I went to Ibadan for, but what i can say is that Ibadan has reminded me that I ought to leave Lagos behind a lot more often.
There is a place I have been for almost a year, that makes moving forward, being excited, making new things and daring life, quite ardous, but here I am again life,
take me!

and this should suffise...somewhat

Of course I would have had a post about the awesome charity concert that i went to on
Inspire Africa for the street child, at the EXPO centre Lagos, on saturday, but being that the evening ended with my car with being towed away, and me having to go look for it in the middle of the night (actually, morning..2am) its taken away a lot of my mojo for that post.
all I'm going to say is that it was truly awesome...Carl Thomas can sing like nothing funny...
I have been reading a lot of Oscar Wilde...this is not (entirely) what explains my time away..but he is certainly my type...
I mean, I dont really have a type...but if I did, Oscar...you would be in it