Monday, September 20, 2010

An Unfinished Portrait of an Artist

Nina Y. Lee
22 September 2010

Crimson, Gold, Lavender, Grey, Blue. Color! Color is a very essential part to practically every painter; it brings life to almost any dull or boring image. Painter and director Julian Schnabel creates a colorful remembrance of his friend, Artist Jean Michael Basquiat in the autobiographical film, Basquiat. The film depicts life for the young painter in the ruthless streets of New York. Although for this film the colorful paintings of Basquiat were not the only lively fixation in this seemingly tragic film about Jean Michael Basquiat, an artist who rose too fast. Schnabel designs sharp, vivid images scented of downtown New York in the 1980's, he creates a beautiful portrait of Basquiat, but fails to go into Depth of the main character which left me with an empty feeling.
The movie begins with Basquiat as a little boy in a somewhat magical setting. This whole scene threw me off track because I had no idea what was going on, but I assumed the questions I had about it would be answered through the progression. Fast forward ten years and we see a much older Basquiat (Jeffrey Wright) submerge out of a box into a New York City park. This “out of the box” scene for me foreshadowed the uniqueness Basquiat’s art career will embed. But it still left me with the question, why did he wind up sleeping in a cardboard box in a park? I recall being told that Basquiat came from a middle-class family. He then ends up going to a local diner, and begins to “paint” using the diner’s table as his canvas and a bottle of pancake syrup as his paint. His eyes wonder to find a beautiful waitress (Gina Cardinale), he gets her attention and after several encounterments they move in together. We witness Basquiat hustle to get his painting seen, whether through his graffiti or by selling miniature art pieces to the renowned artist Andy Warhol ( David Bowie). Through some coincidental events Basquiat ends up being “discovered”. Through this he becomes very close friends to revolutionary artist Andy Warhol. But the road to fame is not all glitz and glamour for Basquiat as we see him struggle from with his addiction to drugs, to him not wanting to be called a “black” painter. I wanted to know more about Basquiat, who was the man behind the paintings? Why did he paint? Why did he not want to be known as a black painter? So many unsolved questions.
Each of the actors intricately hyperbolized the character they were playing, but for the sake of the film, it works very well. Basquiat vicariously lives through Jeffrey Wright, the Tony Award winner for his role as the nurse Belize in ''Angels in America,'' and a star of ''Bring In da Noise, Bring In da Funk,''. Wright did an illustrious job at capturing Basquiat’s personality perfectly! Alongside an extensive cast including: David Bowie, Dennis Hopper, Benicio Del Toro and Parker Posey. Even Courtney Love appears briefly as an unusually confident groupie. The characters all did a great job at telling the story, alongside some of the hip film shots Schnabel invents.
The shots Schnabel uses in the movie are energetic and lively, almost allowing one to forget the heartbreaking tone that lies within the subtext of the film. Schnabel uses the music as another way of expression. The songs chosen seem to be a part of Basquiat, from Rolling Stones' "Waiting on a Friend" to Henyrk Górecki's third symphony. It brings you into him almost dream like, the songs flow as like if they were being painted by Basquiat himself.
Basquiat's personal background remained obscure to me. I got very little feel for his work habits and almost no feel for his art. In one scene between Basquiat and Andy Warhol, Basquiat claims to be clean and there is a suggestion that his work has been on the decline at that point. I believe this scene incognito told us that while Basquiat used drugs his work was brilliant, when he was clean his work was lacking. Jean Michael Basquiat dies at the end of the movie from a heroin overdose. And by the end of the movie I had more questions about Basquiat than I did in the beginning.

Friday, June 25, 2010

The Shadow.

I see this little girl crying all alone on a bench

Although I cannot see her face

I see her tears

I wonder why she sits there all alone

Quiet and mellowdrone

She sits alone

Family and friends stopped to see about her

But they didnt have what her soul was searching for

Until a little boy came

He proved to be just what she needed

But just like all the others he just passed her by

Not there to stay

Over time his face fades away

But left a bruise on her heart

But the good thing about bruises is in time they’ll heal

And there she sits

Confused as to whether I should go console her

I make up my mind

Ive been watching her all this time

Guy after guy each proves to be a bigger burden on her heart

I could have stopped all of this

But instead I watched and let it happen

But im walking to her now

I can save her

From all of the pain

I can take it all away

I can bring her sunshine on the cloudiest days

I grab her and look her in the face

Startled and Shocked to what I see

That girl is me.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Wishful Thinking

Im losing gravity im falling for you
I hope you can catch me, I don’t want to be bruised
I hope you love me, I don’t want to be used.
I wish I could write you a lullaby and watch you fall asleep in my arms
We’d count sheep together like were laying on a farm.

Ode to Atalanta

Atlanta.
Oh so beautiful but don’t let it ruin you
The clubs, the art, the colleges
It can make or break you
So many chasing the same dream, thinking the same thing
The money, the cars, the clothes and especially the hoes
All that many of these “niggas know”
I wanna rap so I can get it all
But what he doesn’t know is he is set up to fall
For every rapper that made it big
There are 50,000 others who’s dream got differed
In a city of fortune and fame
So many forget their name
Now im not telling anyone to give up on their dream
But be smart, cuz in life everything aint as easy as it seems
So often the fame is glamorized, but fame to me is embellished lies
Hard work pays off some of the time

Every time I met someone new I always play this song in my head.

Oblivion

I see crime outside my window, so I close the blinds
I see you giving my love away , so I tell my eyes theyre lying
Id rather be blind than to see things my heart cannot handle
I see hungry children, so I change the channel
They say lifes a beginning, so I walk on it,
Lifes a demise, so eventually ill drown in it
I feel safe inside my window, where I can hide from my worries
I feel safe in my head, where I can make my own stories
My own endings, my own friends
No homework, No school
And If I ruled the world….oh wait I do!
But only when I put lipstick on my brain
Now back to society where my mind is in chains

Losing my Balance

I think im losing my balance cuz this boy he really had me
Sweet on my tooth like a cavity
Now when his name is mentioned I feel a rot in my stomach
But with him I thought we could summit,
But don’t fall for the beautiful lies in which others can give
Im only 19 ive barely even lived
So there are some tricks I will fall for
Like an adolescent just wanting a treat
Like a hungry person wanting to eat
I wanted you, all of you right down to your toe
See it was a short amount of time but I could tell you were different, or at least I thought so
But the absence of longevity just fooled me
As I hum love oh love stop making a fool of me
You continue to find ways to creep into my happy days
Oh my friends say you don’t need a man to be happy
But im ready for a commitment I know that may seem sappy
On to the next has never been something I didn’t know
But im constantly im done with, I want someone who with I can grow
Our love can grow high like the beanstalk, so high, others will try to tamper it
Damper it but we will pay them no mind, because when im with you I have a piece of mind,
And mine is yours, yours is mine, not moving too fast just taking our time
See my rhymes in this maybe weak, but at this point so am I




I just wish I could meet a guy whos not gone lie
See when it comes to my emotions don’t play me like a game
Its totally different when dealing with someone’s brain
I am a beautiful black woman, why am I put through so much pain
But one day ill look back and see, why we weren’t meant to be
Because ill be with someone who proves my every fanatasy known
And together we’ll laugh while reading this poem.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

"A Blues for Nina" one day a man will think so highly of me to write a song/poem

Before the Sun Rises.

Let's make tonight last
Cuz once that sun briskly touches our faces, well have to go back to
our places.
Our chaotic and hectic lives
The shewrd lies
The hurt and pain of living
More receiving not enough giving
But Lets not dwell on the bad
We are here tonight, let's make this last
Ohh but the hurt and pain consumes my brain, I want to talk about the
toxic atrocities that lie ahead of me
But you kiss me on my forehead so gently
You hold me in your arms and I feel safe and secure from all hard
A living and breathing alarm
Your love all in my system
Your warm breath is felt in the back of my neck, a smell so sweet I
know I will not regret, the moment to come
And before I knew it we were done.
You held me like every man should
Carefully Caressed me like I was yours
As you touched my skin you must have strocked my heart because all
these feelings have come up like vomit this is rare for me a comit. I
feel asleep and as I woke up you were gone
Like unwritten lyrics for an unsung song
I sit in my regrets, swimming in all my tears drowned in my fears
Confusing love with lust, let me close my heart wouldn't want it to
rust.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Generation

The love you gave me I shall never experience another
No love is ever stronger than that of a mother
Always through thickness and strife,
Always there even when she is no longer a wife
As the tears run down my face, she’s always there to embrace
And every time I look into the mirror I see your beautiful face
That gives me the strength to go on
And if anything I’d like for you to experience my deep gratitude of love felt through this poem

Monday, May 31, 2010

After Dusk

The night
The most beautiful time to live
the moon gently beams on my skin
It’s melancholy tone has no sin
Why can’t loving you be like the moon
Even when I can’t see you I know youwill be there
Like clock work
At dusk I stare
To the sky
My love
My catcher in the rye
I see your reflection in my eye
And when you leave
Or are not in my prescense
I know you are there
And at dusk I will stare

The Tulip


A seed, small delicate unaware
Of what difficulties life may bare
A little sun and water I begin to grow
What God has planned for me?
I shall never know
A drought season I begin to stagger
My petals become limp
Knowledge the size of a nymph
But just as I began to wither
Water rained its wisdom on me
I become wiser
Please don’t pick me yet I’ve just started to grow
And my path…
I still don’t know
I sway in the direction of the wind
Revolve, rotate and occasionally spin
The storms come in my life
And Tries to break my petals
But they never kill me
I may seem delicate
But inertly I’m tough as a tea kettle
I absorb the water and with it I grow
Growing larger,
But not in a rush to be fully grown
And my path
Is still unknown
As the sun comes and I have bloomed
Now ready for the world with my petals
Although soft I’m made of metals
Titanium, vanadium, but my favorite gold
I have been mold and as you take your pick
Ill prove that slow and steady will win the race for life
So everyone get ready I’ve taken flight

Listen

What happens to a broken dream?
It was once said to explode
But I believe differently
It goes away into a hidden place
But it's smells lurk into the front of our brains.
We try to hide it for days months years.
But it will always be there and when we die well wonder why
we didn't follow our dreams.

Down the Yellow Brick Road

Run away with me to our dreams
sprinting as the moonlight beams.
Holding hands so tight never losing sight of our dreams.
Well stop by adolecence innocence and passionately watch as we played as children.
Barbies and race cars by far the best time of my life,
except for the day when you ask me to be your wife.
Time abruptly passing and we don't have that to waste. Let's give time another chase.
As were running we see our adolescence, watching cartoons pretending to be
one,
you running with a football, the simplicity fun used to entail
wow.
As my bottom and top eye lashes touch were in our teen years.
Looking at my worse fears in the eye but now the same things no longer
make me cry.
Seeing faces I haven't seen in so long.
Looking my
grandmother in the eye feeling like a catcher in the rye and to me she
says everything about you is his.
And everything about him is you
together you make one.
Your journey doesn't stop hear race to the sun.
So were running not giving nightmares a stare, yea bad shit continues
to happen but being with you I don't care.
Were now in college and you
refuse to settle down, trying to get some from as many as possible
your trait of love seemed to have drown.
There I am writing soppy
poems about being with you,
my goodness I was so lost and confused on
the brink of feeling like true love would never arise,
and as I fell
you caught me by suprise,
true love never dies passion romance as I
daze into your eyes.
When I fell you caught me not once but twice,
as I fell in love with you I never hit the ground because before my
bottom reached the floor you were some where around .
Were getting closer to our dreams closer to that sun.
Walking down the yellow road we've graduated, the second most anticipated in my life. The first the
walk before I became your wife,
a dress with a hint of yellow and I
just made you one happy fellow.
But the run has just begun.
I see us rising under that yellow sun

If I Perish, I Perish

Waking up dead in a place ive never been, God must have killed me, must have committed an awful sin.

Oh how I wish to feel, to taste, to touch , to love

Blank stares from others looking at me.

A little girl, I look into her eyes

Fire in one eye, a car in the next. They collide

She tries to hide the wombs, the burns and the bruises

I try to speak but my words are useless

Death

I scream, but nothing comes out.

I lay back down, only my thoughts can help me escape this mental drought

Where do you go?

Her body layed limp in the middle of the road

my eyes watched intensily as the sirens and lights quickly came to the rizing rescue

but they could not save her, i wonder if she was saved

I wonder who would committ such a criime

sooo many crazy people in the world who choose to inflict their crazyness on others smh

RIP

Four Piece

Love. Who needs it and really even experiences it the feeling is more
like lust, when you have that the sexual feeling is a must to have.
Why must we have this urge to love with love comes new sight feeling
and belief butthe downside grief to have loved is to hve lived, with
that said I guess I just ain’t lived,

Ordinary is what I am, and to me life I one big schame, getting ripped
all the time people lie saying they can make your life better
gradually downgrade you like paper in a shedder. Cheddar cheese, money
makes the world go round and mother earth looks at her people with a
frown. Give and you will recieve a phrase quickly becoming obsolete.
Straying from the truth as one would stray from an ally cat, not
believing in anything and the Lord knows tht!

Vicious to one another, caring more about a purse killing and driving
past the long black hurse. The situations getting worse. Robbing
Peter to pay Paul, Peter goes back to his family with nothing at all.
Victorious violence is hate as love sucummbs I gently try to bring her
back as I bandage her wombs but the cut is deep and equally as brutal
millions of stabs the next piercing deeper than the first, oh who has
bestowed us with such a curse.

Enough! The kind must take it’s shrine, look at the clock it’s loud
abrasive tickings the eleventh hour is near, the fear is awakening we
must kill the hatred which lies in our hearts kill the envy which
consumes our thoughts, kill the greddyness which lives on our hands.
Appreciate the quiet where so so mute one could hear the silence of
the lambs if you allow the silence to detect, Kindness will resurrect!
And once it does we will find love, a gentle kiss will be bestowed on
my melancholy cheek, I will float. Love is no joke but with it we can
win and extinct hatred the very worse sin.



text i dont see what anyone could see in anyone else but YOU

The Sweetest Love

I’m a church girl but I’m still secular, think about sex on the
rugular with a guy that’s nothing less than spectacular, a tackler ran
right into my heart, every thought I think although he ain’t real he’s
fictioneal like a cartoon character he ok you get the deal. Living a
lie, But hes better than the truth our loving is through the roof.
Makes me want to love when I thought it didn’t exsist a love that
makes me remince on my childhood back when life was good, a love like
water I need it to survive to stay alive, yea soda may taste better
but his love would be forever eternity a love so hard if destroyed it
cold murder me, l -o -v -e would know All about me I’m the passenger
so I’m in the front seat, he flys I fly we get high with no plane
suprised? Well don’t be cuz that’s how deep our lovin be, the bottom
of the ocean ain’t got shit on him and me, surreal hell naa this love
is for real, when my eyes are closed that’s when we really feel and
connect cuz this boy even touch my intellect. 6 feet tall, a nigga
that can ball on me an the court but courting mes his favorite sport,
when I awake hes still right next to me all around me like the air I
breath, but a sweeter scent makes me know we were meant to be me with
you and you with me, as my day goes on hes still in my head telling me
shit I could never forget. That I’m beautiful my black skin on you is
all you ever wanted, words that get me high equivalent to weed like
method man you’re love is all I need, you take me as I am so I take
out the weave. A love so hard leona can’t bleed. Only problem with
this perfect love it’s all in my head, an abstract love that will
never conform to my bed. Just deceit but the truth is obsolete that’s
why I’d rather love a lie,he’d never make me cry. These thoughts will
always remain thoughts of a church girl on that front pew dreams of
me with the nonreal you.

The Figures of our Imagination

text 3
notes
The Figures of our Imagination

Did anyone else used to have imaginary freinds when they were younger? I did mine coinsidently was my father, im not sure if he was really there or because i had such a strong urge to see him agaiin i fixated an image of him in my head which became real to me. When youre younger you have no problem seeing what others cant because nothing really has a definition, words are just words, people are people,colors are colors. Overtime our eyes become trained though to block spirits, to distinct classes, to judge of colors.

Its something so mind catching to me about children and Imagianry friends though. Are these figures of there minds or are they really there real spritual dieties or vessels trying to make there way back into the human life through these children. My little sister when she was 4 and I was 16 scared the shit out of me one night. We were home alone and I was watching MTV and she was playing Barbies all of the sudden she asks someone if they would like to play, just thinking she was talking to another Barbie I laughed and tuned back into my show. She then comes over to me and says meet my friend (mister, how i origianlly thought it was spelled). Scared out of my mind I told her to stop and I ran into my mothers room. For the rest of the night she laughed in ecstasy with “mister”. I tried to ignore it, I had seen too many movies like the sixth sense and documentaries on children and there imagianry friends and I was convinced that mister was some spirit of a male pervert. mean to have the name “mister” of course it was a man.

The next day after school and much thought, I wanted to know more about this imaginative “mister”. I asked why mister wasnt with his family. And she quickly corrected me and said mister is a girl! I asked her if she knew anything else about myster and she said that myster and her mommy died in a car accident and her mommy was in heaven. I then asked why she wasnt in heaven with her mom and she said mister wasnt ready to leave earth, she still wanted to stay and play before she went to heaven. Despite me being scared I found this story beyone intresting, Mister was once a human… a real little girl robbeb of her youth by death. But she wanted to remain an earthly child so bad that she let her mother go on the after life as she lurked around as a spirit just looking for another little girl to accept her spirit and be friends with her.

I began to become to intrested in mister and just imagianry friends that I did some researched imagianry friends. I came across a website which said that often times children will name there imagianry friends “man.girl, or myster” the myster caught my eye despite the spelling being different than how I visualized it. The website went on to say that imagianry friends will go by “myster” to keep there identification a “mystery”. That blew my mind because it made soo much sense.

Well Chase continued to play with myster until one day she stopped. Perhaps they needed each other. Chase needed a friend her age to play with until she learned how to play alone and Myster needed to live her last days of childhood through Chase. The older chase got the less often Myster would come, I believe because the older we get the more our eyes become trained to only see what is “real” our eyes are essentially blinded by life the more we live. If I saw an “imaginary friend” today or my dad I would not be excited id be scared out of my mind “scared to death” because I would be looking at the death of another.

Karma

Karma

They say hip hop is dead i say naa its in a coma but ill wake it up
with my lyrical aroma

. Female rappers these days only rap about sex or
there sexy ass legs, but if your sex appeals really BAD it should speak for itself so in the meantime let me rap about something else….

Walking in the mall I saw the finest nigga I had ever seen skin so brown a
frame that’s tall, type of nigga that would make me fall, and then of
course here comes his girl, fuck that bitch nigha I could give you the
world. Never mind her I know I’m badder gave her the eye as I walked
past her, but back to ol dude, had to make him mine, my girls said
give it time they’ll break up but time waits for no one it’s time I
shake things up! Saw him the next day is this fate? I mean my hair
does look great, now how to get his attention give him a lyrical
intervention, did I mention that he’s rich, oh shit here comes his
mothafuckin bitxh ain’t that some shit, non the less Ima make him mine
breaking them up this may take time, especially since I ain’t no dime
but why be change when I can be a visa, on some G shit I’m bout to
walk over and say I’m Nina, nice to meet ya Baby don’t worry you know
that you got me addicted to you like a nerd with atomi, the most
anticipated chick of the year right here, dinner movies laughs and
giggles eventually that chick was no longer his, everyday I was his.
But how you get someone is how you will lose them; so some girl with the
same thoughts as me took him ruining our future to be.

just words that happen to rhyme, and if its makes sense im winning

Love is obsolete but yet many convince themselves it isn’t because of what goes on between the sheets,

None existent its feeling brings no remembrance but those that do reminisce begin to feel the hurt of the lovers kiss, hiss is the appropriate word to me because with love comes a substance of venomous

Poison toxins cling to the body, love left you desolate oh but the word love is suppose to be so true but when I say I love you I never get an I love you too, well who know that a four letter word could tag along 400 feelings, memories, good to know that I have locked up the keys. See my heart is closed and will never be broken in, as if it were a house with no ceilings or security cuz see with love comes a feeling of insubordinate, inferiority but in truth if a person loves you like they say they do love should be present, so powerful you’ll never forget it. A love like Adam loved eve through all the insecurities but I’m starting to believe a love like them is make believe. Why love someone without the security to know they’ll love you back well you stay with me, is that a fact? The word love brings more bombs than the war of Vietnam and is just as pointless of a battle too, why is it that when I open my heart something is wrong with old dude, oh you ina bad mood I thought I was the only one to get a period. Love stares at me as if I were its prey but from now on I’m going to look at it and say oh no no sir don’t come my way. I know so much about love but yet so very little cuz trying to solve love proves to be the hardest riddle, it will leave you stuck in the middle of below, it will punch you in the face one big delicate blow, for others it creeps and as soon as you see it it tries to hide somewhere deep. See we all end up loving a lie, anyone deny? The propaganda of love glistens through the media seen in the sky, happily ever after stories more like the facts on Wikipedia. There are few in the world who actually get a chance to love, love for real not just for an ordeal those people in the world are truly blessed because not being loved brings soo much stress!

Hello

I am new to this,
I will be using this as a place to put my thoughts, some in the form of "poetry", some that are just words, some essays i enjoyed writing. ENJOY!