There is something magical when you open the first page of a new book.  The peculiar yet ever satisfying smell of dried ink.  The crisp and unbothered pages you can't wait to immerse yourself into.  Or perhaps it's the excitement of what each new chapter will bring.  Soon, you find yourself lost into an exquisitely crafted masterpiece and at the mercy of the author.  

As I continue my celebration of Black History month, I must pay homage to the literary geniuses who have molded the craft and art of writing and paved the way for so many to follow in their footsteps.  Their legacy and outstanding contributions to Black America and American literature's history will never be forgotten.

Well known for his essays on the Black experience in America, James Baldwin was one of the 20th century's greatest writers.  Baldwin moved to France in 1948 to allow himself the freedom to write more about his personal life as a gay man in a homophobic African-American community and a racist society.  His time would be spent between the United States and France.  Baldwin returned to the US to participate in the Civil Rights Movement.  However, after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, he permanently returned to Europe.  In 1956 Baldwin wrote 'Giovanni's Room' which, told the story of a white man torn between his love for a man and a woman.  The novel brought him critical acclaim as a powerful American writer.

Maya Angelou was born Marguerite Annie Johnson in 1928.  It would be over 20 years before she would be forever and famously known as the beloved Maya Angelou, an acclaimed American poet, storyteller, civil rights activist, playwright, autobiographer, etc.  Her name was a combination of her childhood nickname and her then-husbands surname.  Author of over 30 books and the recipient of more than 50 honorary degrees, she is best known for her 1969 memoir, 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings'.  Maya Angelou will forever be one of the most influential women of all time.

Nobel Prize and Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, editor, professor, visionary, Toni Morrison was a brilliant literary force.  From 1967 to 1983 she served as the first female African-American editor in Random House history and was credited with giving a voice to black stories.  "There are writers that we would not know had she not been in that very crucial position as a black woman in publishing," Angelyn L. Mitchell, a professor of English and African-American studies at Georgetown University.   

Reading will forever be fundamental, and it allows you to go to that special place and free your mind.  Without history, we would be forced to create our own narratives of stories we know nothing of.  As a writer, I am honored to share and continue the legacy of these phenomenal writers.

​~AJ 🖤

◆ How are you doing on this amazing day?
I’m doing fantastically well, AJ! Thank you for asking! And since you mentioned today, it’s appropriate that I note that I took the liberty of filling my gut with a couple Oreo cookies, a few cherry sours, a reasonable portion of Starburst jellybeans, a Cella’s chocolate covered cherry, and a slice of cheesecake. So, the best part about being fantastically well on this amazing day is that, remarkably, no part of it was tarnished by a stomachache.

◆ Writers are known for having thoughts at any given time.  When do you have your best ideas?
I’m plagued by my own creativity. Ideas are constantly tumbling off my conveyer belt with me trying to catch them in my left hand while working to bring the ones in my write hand to life. I know an idea’s the best one when it encourages, inspires, or impacts someone else in a profound way.

◆ If you had to give a title to the blueprint of your life, what would it be called?
Bruised: The Black and Blueprint.

◆ Do you remember the first time you brought ink to paper?
No. I do, however, remember creating written and illustrated storybooks for my classmates in kindergarten.

"If a race has no history, if it has no worthwhile tradition, it becomes a negligible factor in the thought of the world, and it stands in danger of being exterminated." -Dr. Carter G. Woodson

There are so many unknown facts and secrets about Black America's history that it would take a lifetime to catch up on all there is to know.  Entering 5th grade, I was introduced to what was called 'American History.'   Painfully dull, unbelievably forgettable, I recall dreading the time spent in that class every single day.  Textbooks filled with endless paragraphs and other meticulously selected subjects designed to control the narrative and silence the knowledge.  Feeling forced to absorb a history that was not of my own and instructed to learn, memorize, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance, I went along with it because it was all that I knew.  'One nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.'  Indivisible human rights are described as follows;  “Human rights are indivisible.  Whether they relate to civil, cultural, economic, political, or social issues, human rights are inherent to the dignity of every human person.  Consequently, all human rights have equal status and cannot be positioned in hierarchical order.”  

It’s been a normal weekend like any other.  Early morning google searches with one eye open, mild contemplation about devising a get rich in 30 days plan, a hunger in the pit of my stomach so strong I fear I will buy pointless things when I make my grocery store run, and a permanent fixation on finding the perfect bouquet of fresh flowers.  I should point out that I buy fresh flowers often, so this is not just because it’s a national day of love.  I should also point out that I told a couple of friends I was purchasing a bouquet for myself because it’s a national day of love.  Hey, I could change up at any moment, but that’s not the point.

As I enter the store it is as if Valentine's Day has exploded and the reminders that I am single are flashing before me like a neon sign at a late-night massage parlor.  You simply cannot miss it!

There are flowers by the grapes, a few bouquets by the spaghetti squash, and an entire sea of flowers by the mixed nuts.  Interpret that in whichever way you like.  As I approach the beautiful assortment of flowers, I see the perfect bouquet I must have.  Having left my glasses at home I can’t tell if that is a $5 sign or if there is a 5 followed by another number and two trailing zeros.  As my vision zones in, I yell through my mask, '$59 for that!  Are you kidding me???'  The lady behind the flower counter in the perkiest voice,  ‘Hi, how are you today?!’  It’s as if she knows I am the masked bargain shopper who scrambles through the discounted, yet older seasoned flowers every other Saturday.  Today is no exception, I'll return on Monday when the prices have returned to the normal single person rate.  

​It's no surprise that this day is not a favorite for many while for some it's the day they wait for every year.  I've been both, however, the more I learned the true meaning of love, the more I realized how hopeless of a romantic I really am.  Sometimes all we need is love to remind us just how amazing it is.  It feels good to see people embark on new beginnings, find love, make great memories, and enjoy genuine happiness.  I'm not mad at the process in the least bit.  

Love is a universal language that we all speak in our own unique ways.  You don't have to wait for Valentine's Day to show your love and affection to family, friends, or that special someone but it's fun, terribly cute and a few flowers never hurt anyone.  Be creative and do something special for him/her, put on your favorite dress, spray on the cologne that makes her go crazy, and just let go and let something different in for a change.  Life is fleeting, find something worth living for and do that, repeatedly.   

I've loved music for as long as I can remember.  Not sure when the obsession began, I just know I can't live without it.  As a '70s baby, I had no idea about the true art of soul and even less knowledge of what it meant to be funky.  No pizzazz along with no clue of how to groove to the sound and the feel of the music.  It made sense that I was clueless. I was a kid surrounded by larger-than-life afros, bell-bottoms, short dresses, wild colors, and music so funky it caused people to make the ugly face when they heard it.  

To understand and appreciate the art, which is music, you have to go back to where it all began, for you.  Each musical journey is personal and special.  From the music your parents played, to the songs you sang in the church choir music will forever be a vibe that will set the tone for your musical flavor, forever! 
​