proximity

Yesterday was magical. I took the train down to Philly and immersed myself in Black feminist art for the entire day! The Colored Girls Museum is incredible and stirred up so many ideas and memories and feelings…every room in the 3-story Victorian house in Germantown was full of handmade quilts, dolls, paintings, and sculptures…each room had its own scent, and the soothing effect was almost canceled out by the invigorating conversation we four had about the art, artifacts, and history evoked by everyday objects. I was with my scholar-friend Prof. Ebony Thomas and a senior from Bryn Mawr arrived shortly after CGM founder Vashti Dubois started the two-hour tour. By the time the tour was over, I’d taken nearly 50 photographs and filmed 4 short videos. I left Philly with an idea for a new City Kids book set in the art-filled house, and spent much of today thinking about my own treasured objects and heirlooms. I can’t really describe the experience but urge you to find your own way to Philadelphia. The exhibit will be up next Sunday but then the museum will close until March. The photos below will give you a sense of what you can expect…

Philly is just a 90-minute train ride away and yet all summer long I found reasons not to make the pilgrimage to the CGM. I can only imagine what I missed by not seeing the previous exhibit. Sometimes things are so close and yet we don’t reach out and grab hold. I was heading to the train last week when I saw a young woman with a baby strapped to her chest. She was moving fast and I thought to myself, “Look at her–she’s doing it. Mommy on the move! I could never do that.” Then I entered the subway and walked down to the end of the platform. I was reading messages on my phone when I noticed the same young woman out of the corner of my eye. She was fussing with her baby carrier and seemed to need help but her back was to me so I waited to see what she would do. She eventually turned toward me but still said nothing so I finally asked, “Do you need a hand?” And she smiled and said yes before handing over her heavy baby bag and purse. I watched as she refastened her many clasps and then I handed over her bags and fastened the last clasp on the back of the carrier. She thanked me and walked away, and I thought to myself, “Why didn’t she just ask me for help?” But I suppose I do the same thing—get close to a thing I want and then let my fear or uncertainty hold me back…

Milo’s Museum has been approved; the digital proof looks good so I’m just waiting for the print copy to arrive before I make it available online. A trip to Philly last spring inspired this picture book, so it’s fitting that I was with those same creative Black women when the final files were approved. And there was an article in The Guardian today about the need for museums to make their collections more representative of our diverse communities, so I’m not too upset that the book’s coming out in November instead of September. I’ve got a long list of people to share Milo with—if you’d like a digital review copy, just leave your email address in the comments section. I finished Essay #4 on Sunday and sent it off, so now I’ve got a week ahead of me with only two author events. If you’re in NYC, you can get a sneak peek of Milo at the Brooklyn Museum Children’s Book Fair on Saturday. And I’m looking forward to discussing “The Trouble with Magic” with Prof. Gabrielle Halko’s students on Thursday; last week we got an offer on Dragons in a Bag from an editor who compared my writing to the books of Ruth Chew. I deconstruct some of her fantasy novels in that essay…loved The Magic Cave as a child but I’m not a child any more…