The first time I felt really physically lost was when I started driving in Trinidad. The roads are badly planned and a little pokey. The asphalt is piled higher than the sidewalks and dips into the drains. Streets are thrown wherever in a typical lazy, Caribbean aesthetic. Sweden we are not. It can be hard […]Read More The Art of Lost
The great English poet Charles Kingsley (Water Babies) visited Trinidad in 1869 to spend Christmas with his friend and the governor in office, Sir Arthur H. Gordon. Story goes; during his stay he found his way down South in the village of La Brea where he interacted with some of the remaining Amerindian population and […]Read More Iere in Maracas Valley
I had my first coup d’etat at around 4 years old. It was 1990 and a local terrorist organization clumsily tried to take over Trinidad & Tobago from one of our only upstanding leaders, ANR Robinson, who recently passed-away. Shots were fired, people died. Robinson had a gun staring him in the face and still motioned an attack […]Read More Pour Encourager les Autres
What’s it like to meet one of your literary heroes? From my experience it mimics all the symptoms of a minor heart attack or some sort of palpitation. I felt such tremors when I met Derek Walcott, Neil LaBute and oh, John Patrick Shanley. My heart felt ablaze and tongue heavy as lead every time. […]Read More Sun and Stars
I remember her like it was yesterday, she was strutting down Church street in Toronto, i was 18 and couldn’t take my eyes off her…until i walked into a pole and suffered a massive thigh contusion. True story, my first transvestite and still the most beautiful woman I’ve seen to this day. If you read […]Read More One Love. Same Love.
Before I moved to New York City, I didn’t know what a hipster was. I was moving there after graduating from university in Oxfordshire; the corduroy, savant, lord this & that Mecca of the earth. I was used to delicious rowing gods and socially inept geniuses. Hipsters? Pardon? I obviously wasn’t prepared, I’d never heard […]Read More The Colour Hipster
“Either I’m nobody or I’m a nation.” The illustrious Derek Walcott owns those words which are my favourite ever written, because they embody my own experience succinctly. I often look to the descriptive genius of Caribbean writers to explain the strangeness of being from the islands and not fitting the typical island image. The West […]Read More Nobody or a Nation
I’m from the Caribbean, i hinted at that fact sporadically throughout my previous posts, but now it’s time to reveal one glorious aspect of an island childhood in a bit more detail. I grew up in Trinidad and Tobago to be precise. I come from one of the oldest French families on the island […]Read More Sweet Caroni