SHORT CLICK III - Heartburn

He has me spinning with lust and perhaps the L word. It’s going on three weeks and I am floating with clouds transporting me to this sweet, wonderful world where I am all his. I am daydreaming again at work in front of my computer, this cheesy grin on my face won’t go away. Yeah last night was our hot series of bump and grind. He had me at hello, hello, HELLLLLLO

It’s 10:30 am; I wish the day would end quickly so I can see him later tonight. He is in my thoughts. My phone rings and I’m thinking it must be him.

“Hello”

“Hello, is this Katy?” a woman’s voice asked

“Yes, it’s she.”

She says, “This is Julie, you don’t know me…I heard the voicemail message you left in Greg's cell phone.”

“Ok.”

She starts crying profusely. “I am his fiancée your number showed up in his cell phone.”

“Excuse me, fiancée?”

“Didn’t you know? Didn’t he tell you he has a woman?”

“No, he told me he’s divorced with two kids.”

“He divorced his wife two years ago in order to be with me.”

I am totally stunned by the revelation. My insides are boiling with anger and disappointment.

I say, “Look, I’m sorry to hear…”

She interrupts, “Did you sleep with him?”

I reply, “You need to talk to him, I have nothing to say to you.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, I’m packing my shit and getting out of here. You can have him all you want.”

“I don’t want him. If I had known about you I wouldn’t have bothered, he lied to me so why would I want to be with such bastard?”

Julie barks, “He’s not going to find me here when he gets home…I don’t care what you do with him.”

I repeat calmly, “Julie, I don’t want him.”

After she hangs up on me, my phone rings again and it’s Greg apologizing and asking if Julie called.

I say, “It's over, I have nothing to say to you.”

“Katy, look, I’m sorry. I had no idea she was snooping...”

I raise my voice, “Snooping? She’s your fiancée, she has the right to snoop.”

“I still care about you.”

I hang up, he calls me again, blasting my phone but I don’t answer.

I am so disgusted.

My desk at work feels like a war zone, I want to run and lock myself in the bathroom and cry, instead I decide to write a poem dedicated to love, pain and anger.

My boss stops by my desk, “Are you okay?” she asks, noticing the tears

“Yes, just a case of heartburn.”

3/2007 by Cathy Delaleu
Art work by Teresa Brazen

PROCESSION – SECOND PERSON

You peer into my soul to find secrets
Your baritone voice is silky with mystery
Confusion keeps me prisoner in bed
You beg this tender body to share intimacy
Upstairs
Where the 3rd floor quakes an x-rated warning
I walk up to the valley of danger
You wait with euphemism in your eyes

Anxious to plunge into my world region
Darkness is a black porch
Your face and body fans a desirable flame
Gentle ness guide my hands to your hardness
You say, “Don’t be afraid of what’s natural”
But nothing is familiar
In the way you pull off my skirt
I am sprawled in your bed
You hold me like a five-year old
Caress my hair with your chin
Encourage me to touch your throbbing
A mosque with range frequencies
6 years later at 13
I am lost with broken journals
In blood soaked tears
My limbs are backwards
Skirt is upside down
I can’t stop the recollections
And Daddy is not here to shake them away
He can’t hear my nightmares
the surfaces where you scratched
your name
© 3/2007 C. Delaleu
Art by Ileana Frometa Grillo


GRATITUDE:

· Thanks to HIM the weather sheds no tears only rays of sun
· The new I-pod I bought for myself, FINALLY up to date with technology
· Everything bagel with cream cheese was my hefty but satisfying breakfast
· “Weary” song from soulful Amel Larrieux that continuously plays in my head “if I could trust someone to have my back and never do me wrong, then I would give my love…”
· Lorraine who took the time to read in 2 days- 120 pages of my latest manuscript and giving great feedback
· Courage allowing me to peek at the past without any display of hatred or anger

I did get a chance to do some painting over the weekend, not much yet very relaxing.

The first pic is Carnival Girls, #2 Daydream Lovers and #3 Invisible Ocean Girl. I'm curious to know which is your favorite among them :) come on tell me, don't be shy.

I must thank Constance for pushing me to get back to my love of art, sometimes it's not easy to tackle writing and painting but they are both therapeutic and sinfully addicting.

SHORT CLICK - PART II

I was bored out of my mind, sitting at home watching TV on a Friday night.
I could have gone to this party where my brother was dj'ing but I wasn't in the mood to be around a lot of people. I get an unexpected phone call from Clint, this guy from around the neighborhood. It was nice to hear his sexy Jamaican voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked

"Nothing, just watching TV."

"Let's watch a movie together, wanna come over?"

"Sure." I was flattered, he had never invited me over and I couldn't wait to spend time with him.

It took me ten minutes to get to his apartment. Well, it wasn't exactly his place, he had a room at his mother's. He opened the door, gave me a kiss on the cheek and I followed him to the bedroom. It was a small room, the queen-sized bed took most of the space. The TV on top of a dresser was facing the bed. I sat down, pretending to look at the screen, but my mind was elsewhere. Clint made me feel comfortable by massaging my shoulders and kissing me on the neck.

"What movie do you have?" I asked.

"Tell me what you're in the mood for," he said.

That was easy. I turned around to look at him with desire. He knew. Clint leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips.

"Are you sure?" he asked

We created our own screenplay that night and I walked back home in a daze. That week I couldn't wait to see Clint again. I was calling him almost every night but he was never home. It wasn't until I bumped into one of his friends that I found out some news.

"Yo, you can't catch feelings for Clint, he's a good guy but has too much drama. He just got out of prison for selling drugs, unless you don't care about that," his friend said to me.

I was devastated.

The following week, Clint was the one calling me like crazy. I avoided all his phone calls knowing too well I didn't want to be with someone who has a track record.

Six years went by, i'm at a poetry spot in Brooklyn when I noticed this good looking brother staring at me, at first I didn't recognize him, then I remembered those lips.
He approached me and shook my hand.

"Would you like to catch a movie?" he said amusingly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Clint, my goodness, what are you doing here?" I asked

"I always wondered about you. I heard about your book and poetry, so here I am. How come you never returned my phone calls?"

I shrugged. "No reason. I had a lot going on back then." I kept the conversation brief then walked away. My girlfriend who was there pulled me to the side.

"Damn, do you know who he is?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah, an ex-con," I mumbled.

She shook her head. "Girl, he cleaned up his act years ago and is doing very well for himself. He got his own accounting business and he got money."

I glanced back at Clint who was busy chatting with two other ladies. He caught me staring and his generous smile melted my heart.

I walked away not accepting his offer for another movie. Sometimes it's best not to recreate a blockbuster film especially when the romantic trailer is a classic release.

Was it a mistake to walk away? Too late for me to wonder.




SHORT CLICK II
by Cathy Delaleu
Art work by Teresa Brazen

It is time for a change and today
I am a woman spellbound with confidence
My literature stems from a spirit in search of freedom
In search of this meaning of contentment
Loving my habits without distinctions
The enrolled years of pain have evaporated
My follicles sing a petition
I'm at peace
I am granted security at last
(c)3/2007 by Cathy Delaleu




Today my Gratitude is short, very, very short :) and I must say it's worth it...

I'm grateful for:

* Marvin, my hairdresser whom I gave the green light to chop all my hair last night. "I'm cutting off your stress," he said to me yesterday and it felt like he was cutting off many years of heartache and pain. I feel and look different.

* Spring in the air, flowers blooming in every color

* Veggie egg-white omelette: lil bit of cheese, red peppers, scallions, mushrooms and a lil bit of hot sauce

* Jerk chicken soup, ummmmmmmmmmmmm, that was my lunch for today and it quickly warmed me up inside

* Cracker Jack, that was my snack and it's one of my favorites :)

* Sweet Butter body mousse I bought from Quench Essentials, it caresses the skin with sweetness and it smells heavenly. This vendor is a talented blogger, I suggest you all to check out his website

She’ll pretend happiness was present
Fluttered sweetly on her flesh
Revived fantasies shaped like butterflies
Roaming freely inside her heart
The whispers are questions
Wounds made with droplets of tears
His sustenance was her scent
This is the end
He was once the beginning of her sentence
High in context
Her words unwind into a comma
With a mere period after his name
© 3/2007 by Cathy Delaleu
Artist: Lara Jade

SHORT CLICK:

It takes five dates for her to figure out he isn’t the one. The first date always sweet, soft and mellow, almost like a walk in Central Park at noon with leftover rain still moist on the ground and the potent smell of daisies. The second date sweet with the taste of hot chocolate and marshmallows in a small café, the intimacy almost giving her a cavity. She starts to believe his intentions are genuine when on the third date; popcorn and giggles are shared during movie night at his place. By the fourth date it’s blissful with dinner he prepares himself. Her heart grows soft for this near-perfect gentleman until…

1PM at work

“I thought you were going to eat at your desk,” he says over the phone.

“I changed my mind, I decided to eat downstairs,” she tells him.

“Who did you lunch with?”

“Some co-workers,” she replies.

“Men or women?”

“Huh? What kind of question is that?”

“Answer the question, were they men or women you lunched with?”

“Does it matter? Do I have to answer that question?”

“No, you don’t have to. I was just wondering.”

She finds it strange. The question didn’t make sense to her.

Their fifth date is when he tells her he is falling in love. She doesn’t feel the same.

“And why not?” he demands

“We hardly know each other”

“Are you interested in someone else? Is that the problem?” he says, raising his voice

“Yes, there is someone else. I can’t love you when I’m in love with myself.”

She walks away with a satisfied grin on her face. The signs were there all along, it takes five dates for her to see his true colors.
Poof, be gone!

Hello Everyone, hope you all had a wonderful weekend. The weather was nice, upper 50's and the sun was blessing us with its rays so I couldn't complain. On my way to work this morning I rushed to the newstand and grabbed myself the April issue of Essence Magazine to see if my name is really on it. If you all get yourself a copy, my poem "Morning Birth" is on page 187 of Essence, with my name "Cathy Delaleu". I was jumping up and down as if I won the lottery and I showed the street vendor the magazine, "Hey, i'm famous!" I shouted. He looked at me with this New York nonchalant attitude.

This is a great way to start the spring.

The poem is not in my book so you will need to get yourself a copy of Essence :) hehehehe and my next poem which will be featured by them again is "Confused Being" on page 119 of my poetry book.

Enjoy!!!

KNOWLEDGE

EACH word created brings you closer to him
You hug love one last time
Knowing you belong to heartache
You’re not educated
But tongue speaks knowledge when we kiss
You’re not a poet who rocks with style
Dior is not your Christian
You want to be noticed
To be called beautiful
So you toss to the world your costume jewelry
Pile them high on the Brooklyn Bridge
Swinging your nylons on fire
They burn sending ashes to the wind
Another stands near
Mimicking your tears
She sinks her life savings and profanity in a box
Waiting for you to do the same
You color your hair with mud
They will notice your climax
Tap dance your yearning
Your cries inescapable
With this obsession to be you again
© 3/2007 by Cathy Delaleu
Painting by Cyn McCurry
HAPPY FRIDAY!!





Just want to show you all the latest painting from my sister, Magalie which i've purchased from her. I'm so excited, I can't wait to display it on my walls at home. The name of this painting is "Calypso Heat". Check out more of her work here

painting by Chelin Sanjuan

Don't you love this painting? I saw it and couldn't help but admire the details exploding with colors. What makes art powerful is when you could feel the artist's passion.

Is it me or is the week flying with a speed of light?

It is Wednesday, that time again to show "gratitude" with a smile...

I am grateful for:



* Hot Showers

* 2nd, 3rd and 4th dates (now that's a good sign)

* Poetry readings, I went to the Urban Juke Joint last Friday and read my poem "Haitian Food", it wasn't at all planned. I was there to show support to another poet friend who was being featured and he encouraged me to put my name on the list. It was great crowd.

* Writing, editing, writing, I am on a roll

* Romance with my own novel in progress, didn't think I would but I'm so inspired

* Many of us search for a song and Urban Butterfly has that ability to gather us together with her words, I am grateful for this gifted poet

* First interviews...I was interviewed last Friday by Stephen Early Jordan aka Bougie and it will be aired via podcast this month in his blog, I will let you all know when

* Popcorn, hot, buttery and perfect for those HBO movie nights with a special someone

* Whole wheat wrap with a little cheddar cheese, chicken, lettuce, mustard and tomatoes, ummmmmmmmmmmm, delicious and top it off with a Jello chocolate pudding snack :)

GRIP

Love’s bone marrow hangs like stars in her eyes
You hold on to her with the thread of fingers
Praying fervently that she never leaves you
She is your beginning
The image of silky strokes
A sweet fruit of virtual love
That palpitates your name
You run your thoughts
Up and down her buttery curves
Her candied preserves becomes tiny rockets
Smooth like confection
She is gracious
You take your own sweet time to savor
Her tasty hors d’oeuvre
You hold on to her flesh
Praying fervently
She will forever leave you in the upright position
© 2/2007 by Cathy Delaleu

Painting by J Piret

She is sprung
where love's solstice features certainty
unguarded with a language bearing sweetness
She is one with leaves of hope
gambling with a lover's invitation
scoring oneness to their surroundings
attachment to his embrace is vital to her well-being
afterall...
She is sprung
2/07 by C. Delaleu


art by Haitian painter Michel Ange-Altidort

GRATEFUL I am for:

* The dentist, although I can't stand the sight of needles, the end result is priceless

* First dates...especially when he's a gentleman with a sense of humor

* Short weeks, after a holiday the week usually flies by and we're again facing another weekend

* Cable, I finally signed up for HBO and now I won't miss my Def Poetry Jams :)

* Chicken and mashed potatoes, it was delish for lunch today

* Walnuts, I had a handful this morning and saw in the news that it's good for the heart

* My landlord who is like a mother to me, last night she was so thrilled like a little girl that I spent a couple of hours with her watching American Idol

UNQUESTIONABLE
Mysterious is the wind beneath her expression
She returns to a place she calls home
where containment of the past is a waterfront
Beyond Lamu she takes refuges
her village a percussion of sadness
hypnotically draining out of her pores
phonograph colors spiral a fertility dance
slowly tipping the crease of her eyes
The fishbone of lips pout musical pieces
spills a constellation to her heart
Sentimental texts unread with tenderness
Yearns for romanticism
She’s stenciled like dry indigo
Dyed with a strong longing to love
She weeps her battle for public opinion
keeps emotions at bay
uncovers the rhythmic steps
of a miserable woman
devoting time to loneliness
© 2/2007 by Cathy Delaleu

Delaleu's Book Signing 2/10/07

GRATITUDE:


* For the guitarist who plays like he should win himself a Grammy. He is that good. I can't wait for the book party, when we rehearsed together last night it was magnetic,he played while I read my poems and we created magic

* Salmon salad with avocadoes, yummy and healthy for lunch :)

* Dessert was banana pudding, i'm an addict

* My writers' group (WriteNow), we had a meeting on Sunday and it was productive and laid back. We value each other's opinion which makes the group even more speacial

* Working out, yesterday was my first day back at the gym and it felt grrrrreat!

* I discovered a poet blogger who fascinates me with his verses, check him out...i'm sure he'll appreciate the comments thelettershaper

* The sun was out this morning and I just stood still appreciating bodily heat, the sensation was intimate, but I quickly realized I better cross the street to make it to work, lol

(painting by Luigi Bariotti)



THOUGHTS AND PAPER
The earthy smell of water tastes like altitude sickness
Down the coast a French film crew sits and watches
While I putter hands on your flesh
Leaving reminders of our reality show
I prowl on neck, chest and lips
You are afraid of the mass media
prefer privacy with morning brunches
You drive through San Fernando Valley
with a hungry appetite for summer
I prefer to wait for you
in an evening marketplace of silk, art and souvenirs
I pause with the ink of my pen
Space turns me into black paper
Thoughts are left unspoken
©by C. Delaleu

Hope you all had a wonderful and warm weekend. The cold is killing us here in NY. When I headed out this early morning for work, it was only 10 degrees outside and I know many of you are experiencing the same temperatures, except for Florida and California. Miss Delaleu here miss Cali's weather but that's about it as far as living there, life to me was too slow. NY keeps me on my toes, no matter how much I complain about the cold in the winter. I've posted my book cover to invite you all to my book event happening this weekend. I meant to post it last week but I've had a lot on my mind. For example, I was close to tears a couple hours ago with the book company i'm dealing with cause' I still didn't get the large order of books for the party. They've been giving me the run around and I lost it when the woman in customer service said she couldn't find anything in her computer showing that I ordered books. Those books were ordered almost a month ago...and the party is Saturday. How embarassing is that? To have a book party without any books. Well, I couldn't calm down and the person responsible for my book account reassured me that by Thursday I should have my books. Keep your fingers crossed, I hope I get them. I would go into details about the ka ka story they told over the phone as they tried to blame UPS but it would get me more upset. So, i'm breathing sloooowwwwwwwly, when I get home I will drink myself a large cup of hot tea and write, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, just what I need.

If you'd like to attend my event, let me know. It will be nice to meet my blogger friends...I'm sure to have another one in the summer or fall.

DATE: Saturday, 2/10/07

TIME: 6pm-9:30pm

LOCATION: Stain Bar, 766 Grand Street, Brooklyn (Williamsburg)www.stainbar.com

PERFORMANCE:Poetry performance starts at 7pm

Appetizers and drinks will be served

CAPITAL DECEPTION

So you wanna keep it real?
When your fake Gucci bag was made by child labor
Brag about your diamond in the ruff
Your bling bling worth the price tag of Africa’s sweat and blood

You wanna make it clear?
Validate that ring on your finger with insurance
Too ashamed to admit your sparkling jewelry
Caused brutality
Romance with Fendi is a civilian’s fatality
Calling for amputated limbs
Taxing children like cheap labels
Their blood fading from counterfeit skins
Stitching slander
you brag
brag with a foul breath about your bling bling
your plastic Luis Vuitton
interpretates Miss Bougie
You’re the shit
Miss Designer label with the lopsided logo

Keep it real…
Can’t you smell their greed?
Sweatshops boasting immigration
In blood-stained rooms
refugees funding in open-pit mines
with cocaine packing lungs of child soldiers
execution of human rights lurking heat
sniffing minimum wage
made with your cash
melting your taxes
into fake pleather
made in your USA

just remember
let’s keep it real

© 2/1/07 by C. Delaleu
picture by Amnesty Magazine

blood diamonds, the enslavement of africans
many have their opinions about this subject, feel free to express yourself

My Gratitude this week is...

* Love, with it I see clearly and without it i'm lost

* Books - I can't get enough of it, I love the scent of a new book, new words, great inspiration

* My girlfriend, she is a poet who calls herself "NightWriter" and she has been a tremendous help with my poetry rehearsal for my book release party

* WriteNow Writers', it's a small group of poets/writers and we've been going on strong since October 2006. It's been great getting together and encouraging one another with our writings

* My daughter, she made me laugh when she sang to me last night

* Egg white omelette with scallions, red bell peppers, lil bit of cheese and lil bit of turkey and some hot sauce (yummmmmmmmy)

* The lyrical mind of Stepen Bess, his writing refreshes and boost the immune system :)

* Sleep

* Photoshop, i'm having too much fun, I used this old pic on top which I embellished playing around with the software

* Makendal is a friend of mine who is a wonderful Haitian poet/writer, I decided to post one of his work below...his writing seduces the mind and senses, the side effects are contagious :)tell me what you think. His website:www.themaroons.net


NIGHT'S ALONE I STRIP MYSELF NAKED

nights alone
i strip myself naked
strip my mind and my soul
and use the erection of my pen
to make love to my paper mate
pen and pad
i kiss each line with bliss
and reminisce
letting my ink ejaculate
from my brain's urethra
with a plethora
of verbal spermicidal fluids,
grinding my mind slowly
and passionately letting my soul erupt
in orgasm after orgasm
line after line
i embrace the silence
and the emptiness
kissing my thoughts slowly
and running my fingers down my soul's spine.

i become one with my emptiness
lyrically
i confess
but do not
cannot
let it overcome me
for in this sensual session
i find the blessing
of loving self
and being self
all by myself.

i taste her,
this paper
and smell her newness,
sometimes I rape her
spread open
waiting
seemingly panting
and wanting
to feel me
painting with my brush
but she does not caress me back
until i have finished filling her
having given her
all of myself
and blessing her

with my mental prayer.

my instrument becomes her vibrator,
as she caresses my ball
points and makes it her point
to point me in the direction of her boiling point,
FASTER, NON-STOP...

she's selfish
sometimes waking me up in the middle of the night
to find a light and grab my constant erection
to give and give and give
with finger/mental thrusts,
lip/tongue licks,
eyes wide shut,
panting, yet hardly breathing,
toes curled
until spent,
mentally dehydrated for a moment
in after shock
i lay back in the dark
hands numb
and fluids a collage
impregnated into her
to give birth to
another child
I name poetry,
my poetry.

she is fertile
on my nights alone,
a nymphomaniac
infectious, turning me into
an insomniac,
and i love her all the same
because she is always there
on my nights alone.
and she

is poetry.

Hello Bloggers and Bloggettes,

My weekend was uneventful...I stayed in, hybernating with a remote control in one hand and my laptop with the other. I think that's the best medicine for winter, if you have a pen, paper or computer, that's enough to keep your fingers warm and your mind inspired. A girlfriend of mine who is a computer genius gave my laptop a boost and major makeover, I now have photoshop which is cool. The paintings you see below are created by my sister, Maggie, using acrylic on canvas and I played around with photoshop, I think they look nice. I have some more which I will display this week. I love using colors so I'm in a huge playground with this new software. So, how was your weekend? Tell me, did you play in the snow or stayed under covers with your honey? Of course I had some writing done...

WHAT SISTER THINKS
She says my eyes are bigger than my lungs
I should take time to grammatize my breathing
She thinks I’m too quick to drink the lies of a male lover
Wants to comprehend why I write so much with his sharp girth
His semen becomes the ink that spills all over my sheets
She frowns at the sight of me swallowing his slang
My writing becomes his street-life
His junky
His drug addiction
His sentimental education
His morals I speak in reverse with no exception to rules
She tells me to find another man
Without bed or pillowcases to slap me around
One who holds a Masters
One who won’t read my vocabulary cause’
Of theatre presence
A man with guide of antiquities
My sister worries I will be looked down
As a natural disaster
© by C.Delaleu

GRATITUDE:

I feel the week has been dragging. Yesterday, I’ve been thinking what should I be grateful for? Winter is showing it’s ugly face; cold and moody people surrounds me and most are annoyed with the 30-degree weather (actually it's dropping to 20 tonight).

Regardless, I’m smiling away. I won't allow anyone to spoil my mood, not even some crazy characters who are pushing my buttons. Blogger was acting up yesterday so I couldn't post my gratitude. Here's my list:

* Orange juice is loaded with vitamin C and helps with my weak immune system
· Mom’s bonnet, I love that hat, it’s old but keeps my head warm
* I was contacted by Essence Magazine, they chose one of my poems to be published, i'll let you all know which issue
· My health – legs are getting stronger, I’ll be back at the gym in no time
* Rethabile’s poems, his words are impeccably thoughtful and takes you there
· My journal, I write, write, sigh, write some more and sigh :)
* Chocolate Jello pudding, yummmmmmmmmmy! Something sweet is always a treat
· Scented candles, soothing and calming scents keeps the moodiness away



BONE SNATCHER OF MY SOUL
I watch…
Intently I watch him asleep
Next to me, he dreams
With such intensity
I want to caress his face but he looks so peacefully laced with
His dreams perhaps of “we”
Masterfully dancing in our journey of Ben and Jerry’s flavors
Homemade euphoria when he scoops my creamy fudge temple
Part my chocolate sea thighs
With an electric harp chiming behind us
Like a choreography of romance
Kissing my mouth with formal reverence
We twirl in unison into sweet sorbets of theatre du soleil
Palatable and vibrant
Repetitive and tedious as my body color paints
Thousands of strokes provoked by the grinds
Of a rapturous behind
It’s only been five months
But that is why I want more
More, please…
And refreshingly dense
Is our couple’s dance
And I surrender to such 07’avalanche
Compressed coffee to last for centuries
Stronger than Kona, Bostello, Folgers or Starbucks
This romance exhibiting tropical images
Impromptu and limitless
With a play-list of endless…endless
Love layered in my periosteum bones
Dug deep in the marrow of my soul
This door no longer closed
Behold
In my eyes he is so beautiful
Nourishing bones with love cells
All 206 of them with a spell
Protecting my organs
Deliciously planted as we reject all negative preserves
From this universe collecting discrepancies
He stirs…
Eyes of nutmeg are opened
Glazing bookshelves of arousal as he displays
Such swollen erection
“Good morning, baby,” I say to him sweetly
And he kisses me slowly
Opening my eatery with vitality
Bone snatcher of my soul
We make such a delicious combo
And happily I feed him diligently
(c)by C. Delaleu

Interview with Magalie D. Foster

Magalie Delaleu Foster is a self-taught artist, marching to the beat of her own drum. About ten years ago she decided to use black-eyed peas on canvas instead of cooking them for dinner, her creation then spread from canvas to greeting cards. She is fascinated with colors, characters and stories, coming from a Haitian background goes without saying. A brief interview gives you a chance to know more.

How long have you been painting?
7 years

What’s your inspiration?
Everything inspires me, life, laughter, children. My work is happy, bright and colorful. I tackle several styles and themes. I try to keep it as simple yet color to capture one's attention

Why are you an artist?

It’s in my blood; it’s in the blood that flows through my veins. It feels like I’ve been doing this forever.

What artist has influenced you?

My Uncle Daniel, that man can paint. He is not afraid to pull you into his artwork. Also Haitian art to me is beautiful, the colors, the people, the culture.

What other interest you have besides painting?

I have too many. Crafting, decorating, photography, cooking, the list goes on and on

How have you handled the business of being an artist?

Keeping it classy and professional

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

I see myself successful whether it’s crafting, decorating or painting. I see longevity

What advice do you give to an artist just starting out?

Patience, lots of patience and passion


To check out more of Maggie’s work, visit her website.