Making Room For My Shadow
As a child my shadow fascinated me. Every time I saw it, I would strike a pose, jump, dance, twist and turn, like I was on stage. In reality, growing up in East Africa’s oldest art gallery was a huge stage, full of mesmerizing characters: artists, writers, poets, refugees from East Africa. The daily adventures initiated my teen years into a world where my imagination ran free. I was the favorite guide to tourists from all over the world, telling the stories of the rich catalog of art exhibited at the gallery. And the annual festivals - from Resurrection Easter to Mother Christmas - were the best of all! What a lucky girl I was, growing up in Nairobi, the City in the Sun, where my shadow represented regularly. At 21, I arrived in America. I dealt with the culture shock (i.e. the abrupt ways of New Yorkers). I dug in my heels and blended into the melting pot. I bit into life and kept going; gritting my teeth, holding my breath, bracing myself when nece...