Let Me Show You The Way To Van Gogh

Sometimes I forget the joy of a new experience. Almost ten years on from my first sighting of the Louvre which had me in tears I am a bit jaded. Not because I have seen all there is to see in the world but because I now know that it is possible for me to … Continue reading

Paris: The B Side

I never tire of this city. Each time is like the first time. Every time the train pulls into Gare du Nord, I feel my stomach do light flip flops in echoes of the heavier ones they did eight years ago when I got off that Eurolines bus from Leuven. And each time I drop … Continue reading

Emoting in R & B

There is a song for every thought, every sentiment, every feeling. Of this I am absolutely convinced. I am not unique in that view. So is my friend Philip and so we found last night is Colman Domingo. Who is Colman Domingo you ask? Only a one man tour-de-force that swept North London up in … Continue reading

New House Same Rules

Eight months shy of my fifth year in London, four years into my tenancy or as I call it my Clapham Common residency my landlady gives me notice. To quit, to leave, to vacate her premises pursuant to the clause in our tenancy agreement to which I never even paid attention when I signed. I … Continue reading

For the Walters Family: Fifteen Years Away From Ordinary

The morning of June 30, 1998 was an ordinary one. We woke up; two uncles, my father and I. He made porridge. We ate. Laughed as we did each morning about the Richter shattering capacity of one uncle’s snores. They left to different destinations and I headed into the office. The office was only 25 … Continue reading

A Tennessee Waltz in London

Dingwall’s couldn’t be more happily named. It is seedy and dark. A little dank too since it sits atop Camden Lock so you can practically smell the canal. Which makes it the perfect venue for @TheValerieJune last night. You are up close at Dingwall’s. The stage is almost level with the audience and nothing separates … Continue reading

Missing A Foot

Our family is big, huge. So big in fact that if you wish you can choose an entire line. You could declare that line your family, restrict it but still have enough blood left over to people a tiny village. In fact my mother’s line already is a tiny village. Porter’s Mountain in rural Westmoreland, Jamaica. And Porter’s … Continue reading

At Play In The Field At Lord’s

A Quorum

The first day of the first test in a cricket series still excites me. It doesn’t matter that the West Indies’ heady days of brutal world domination are almost twenty years in the past. When you got past the deeply superficial but powerful political import of subduing both those who had taught you the game … Continue reading

Make Mine Sharkleberry Fin

Sharkleberry Fin, just so you know used to be my favourite Kool Aid flavour. I drank it by the gallon, crushed over ice for the entirety of my two years in Barbados, okay since we are setting up for full confession mode I also was known to lace it with dark rum and limes for … Continue reading

Being Good At Pizza Express

Beer in Danger & Gregory Dressed for Bear

There are few incongruities in this world like the Pizza Express on Dean Street which has of all things a jazz club in the basement. My very fixed  sense of jazz elitism ( a state contrary to the freedom of the music itself doesn’t bother me one bit) recognises the music’s urban beginnings in supper clubs, … Continue reading