A cheap nightclub. Burgundy curtains around a stage, surrounded by lamps and drunken men; a globe reflects its silver light on the cool metal pole, and a provocative girl spins sensually around, stripping off for money. This is the imaginary scenario when people hear the words “pole dance”, but knowing the origin of this intriguing activity reveals how this is more about prejudice than reality.
Giant crystal tasting balloons are brought to your table with great pomp and ceremony, encased in a smoke-filled glass dome that is removed extravagantly. It’s almost comical, but don’t laugh. Drinking elite rum here is a serious business.
Sometimes we keep secrets for people that we should never be asked to keep…
The unscratched newness of possible…caressing night lights, haven’t left the house, they sat there at the bottom of that dress…waiting…for the demanding dress.
It’s hot and sensuous in Cuba, but the climate is changing. Tourists are arriving in droves to taste the authentic Cuban passion for life… before the Americans arrive.
The singers crying over words they know too well, that make sense of life and the “if only I’d remembered to listen a little longer…”
Let us reveal, with our eyes, our true selves…and feel what it is to truly acknowledge one another.
Maximon isn’t an easy idol to comprehend. He is both divine and devilish, fiend and friend, a communicator to Ajaw, the supreme Mayan god, but also a trickster that may double cross whoever presents an offering.
“Oh Woman!” is a poem that represents the anxiety of existence of every-woman. The passive victim of male gazes, she is always in the process of introspection, longing for a space of her own.
In Trump’s America, where the veneer of American idealism and tolerance has been ripped away to reveal something sickening, my childhood memories have started to morph.