edge

​Red, White & Blocked


My name is George Maharaj and I am selling or donating away a priceless collection of Trinidad & Tobago and Caribbean music to a foreign institution if I can find one.


The collection is about 6,000 records and the cost to collect, storage fees, insurance, transport comes close to Can$200,000.00. I did not include sentimental value. I have already parted with three loads of it, and have four more to do, just giving it away. Because, for over 40 years, I have been trying with every government institution and [numerous large] private companies and I can’t figure out how to get anybody from Trinidad & Tobago to take my collection.

All I want is for somebody, somewhere, to digitise all the music and share it with the world for everybody to enjoy. And to build a calypso museum to honour our own artistes. I’m trying a foreign institution now.
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The Gentle Warrior Spirit of Trinidad

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Barbara Jardine and my ebony bracelet, “The Warrior”, is the headline act of the Victoria & Albert Museum’s new British-Caribbean Trail.


One end of my Warrior bracelet terminates in the carved head of a woman [wearing] an armoured helmet of silver, tourmalines and iridescent green & black beetle. The other end is a hand, cupping a spherical garnet – a drop of blood. Made almost 50 years ago in my final year at the Royal College of Art, she was purchased by the V&A.

I come from Deep South, Guayaguayare. Until age ten, life was within the idyllic ‘bubbles’ of the oilfield: Guaya, Coura, Moruga and Beach Camp. Moruga Camp [comprised] six wooden houses on tall iron ‘stilts’ surrounded by dense forest. At midday it would suddenly darken. I remember rain roaring on the galvanize roof as, at age three, I sat in my nanny, Theda Francis’s ample lap, being fed tiny, intensely flavoured pieces of olive oil-soaked salt cod, tomato and hops from a blue-and-white enamel plate, spirals of scented orange peel drying overhead.
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Dog Bites Mankind

My name is Ato Boldon and I hope Donald Trump loses the American election.


I have not been in Trinidad since 2018, the longest I’ve not been home in my life! I couldn’t go in 2019 because of career stuff. And then the borders closed in March. Going home is a kind of a reset for my spirit. Not being able to do that, not to see my dad, is a source of real frustration.

In Trinidad, I’s take stick for not sounding American, although I’ve lived there for 33 years now. But that kinda runs off my back. Because the voice in my head is always Trini.

I’m from Santa Cruz but, from age 14, I’ve lived mainly in the US. Since 2008, I’ve been in Florida. Which is a hard place to be now.

The racial strife, the madness in the USA, has been unlike any other time in my adult life. Florida, in particular, a very red, very pro-Trump state, embodies a lot of the worst of America. The GOP has put power over principle. Trump has not faced a single consequence for anything he has said or done.
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​The Art of Noise

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Mikhail Neruda Gibbings and I don’t think I like being called “an artist”.


My father, the journalist and poet, Wesley Gibbings, named me after the Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev, and the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda. Large shoes to fill. But I can’t say my namesakes had any immediate impact on my life. I identify more with Neruda. I don’t think I currently have the capacity for any incredibly political works myself.

I grew up primarily in St. Joseph and still live there but Curepe has really always felt like home to me and doesn’t get its due respect. It’s so alive, constantly moving and transforming itself. My father would get oysters, and I, six years old, would sit in the tray of Jags’s truck while he served coconuts and vented about Curepe’s millions of stories. Curepe Junction is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a Miguel Street.
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​High, Low, Sean, Game

My name is Sean Adrian Bartholomew and I wrote an all-fours app.


I’m a racist though. My all-fours app is only compatible with Apple phones and computers.

I come from the East/West corridor. Raised in Mt Lambert, moved to Tunapuna, then Arima, where my parents still reside. I rented in Valsayn at age 21. Bought my own home at 26 in Maraval and lived there till I migrated to the USA at 36. I live in Kansas now.

I am married to Teryn Bartholomew. Landon, our son, is eight and our daughter Lincoln is three. I went to Trinity Junior School, St. Mary’s College and UWI.

I began using my middle name, Adrian, when I migrated in 2000. No one in the US knows me as Sean but no one back home knows me as Adrian. I subconsciously judge who my real friends are back home by what has now become the first name filter: when they address me as ‘Adrian’ - obviously they don’t know me.

I was raised Catholic. My parents are Catholic, my mother very much involved with the church. My music teacher, my great-aunt, Amy Bartholomew, left her house and all her pianos to her church. I am an atheist. I don’t understand how people can claim God is omnipotent yet hold him only responsible for the “good" phenomena, never the “bad". They praise him when surviving a bad accident but don’t blame him for the accident itself. Sounds like extortion to me.

Read more

Show more posts

​Red, White & Blocked


My name is George Maharaj and I am selling or donating away a priceless collection of Trinidad & Tobago and Caribbean music to a foreign institution if I can find one.


The collection is about 6,000 records and the cost to collect, storage fees, insurance, transport comes close to Can$200,000.00. I did not include sentimental value. I have already parted with three loads of it, and have four more to do, just giving it away. Because, for over 40 years, I have been trying with every government institution and [numerous large] private companies and I can’t figure out how to get anybody from Trinidad & Tobago to take my collection.

All I want is for somebody, somewhere, to digitise all the music and share it with the world for everybody to enjoy. And to build a calypso museum to honour our own artistes. I’m trying a foreign institution now.
Read more

The Gentle Warrior Spirit of Trinidad

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Barbara Jardine and my ebony bracelet, “The Warrior”, is the headline act of the Victoria & Albert Museum’s new British-Caribbean Trail.


One end of my Warrior bracelet terminates in the carved head of a woman [wearing] an armoured helmet of silver, tourmalines and iridescent green & black beetle. The other end is a hand, cupping a spherical garnet – a drop of blood. Made almost 50 years ago in my final year at the Royal College of Art, she was purchased by the V&A.

I come from Deep South, Guayaguayare. Until age ten, life was within the idyllic ‘bubbles’ of the oilfield: Guaya, Coura, Moruga and Beach Camp. Moruga Camp [comprised] six wooden houses on tall iron ‘stilts’ surrounded by dense forest. At midday it would suddenly darken. I remember rain roaring on the galvanize roof as, at age three, I sat in my nanny, Theda Francis’s ample lap, being fed tiny, intensely flavoured pieces of olive oil-soaked salt cod, tomato and hops from a blue-and-white enamel plate, spirals of scented orange peel drying overhead.
Read more

Dog Bites Mankind

My name is Ato Boldon and I hope Donald Trump loses the American election.


I have not been in Trinidad since 2018, the longest I’ve not been home in my life! I couldn’t go in 2019 because of career stuff. And then the borders closed in March. Going home is a kind of a reset for my spirit. Not being able to do that, not to see my dad, is a source of real frustration.

In Trinidad, I’s take stick for not sounding American, although I’ve lived there for 33 years now. But that kinda runs off my back. Because the voice in my head is always Trini.

I’m from Santa Cruz but, from age 14, I’ve lived mainly in the US. Since 2008, I’ve been in Florida. Which is a hard place to be now.

The racial strife, the madness in the USA, has been unlike any other time in my adult life. Florida, in particular, a very red, very pro-Trump state, embodies a lot of the worst of America. The GOP has put power over principle. Trump has not faced a single consequence for anything he has said or done.
Read more

​The Art of Noise

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Mikhail Neruda Gibbings and I don’t think I like being called “an artist”.


My father, the journalist and poet, Wesley Gibbings, named me after the Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev, and the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda. Large shoes to fill. But I can’t say my namesakes had any immediate impact on my life. I identify more with Neruda. I don’t think I currently have the capacity for any incredibly political works myself.

I grew up primarily in St. Joseph and still live there but Curepe has really always felt like home to me and doesn’t get its due respect. It’s so alive, constantly moving and transforming itself. My father would get oysters, and I, six years old, would sit in the tray of Jags’s truck while he served coconuts and vented about Curepe’s millions of stories. Curepe Junction is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a Miguel Street.
Read more

​High, Low, Sean, Game

My name is Sean Adrian Bartholomew and I wrote an all-fours app.


I’m a racist though. My all-fours app is only compatible with Apple phones and computers.

I come from the East/West corridor. Raised in Mt Lambert, moved to Tunapuna, then Arima, where my parents still reside. I rented in Valsayn at age 21. Bought my own home at 26 in Maraval and lived there till I migrated to the USA at 36. I live in Kansas now.

I am married to Teryn Bartholomew. Landon, our son, is eight and our daughter Lincoln is three. I went to Trinity Junior School, St. Mary’s College and UWI.

I began using my middle name, Adrian, when I migrated in 2000. No one in the US knows me as Sean but no one back home knows me as Adrian. I subconsciously judge who my real friends are back home by what has now become the first name filter: when they address me as ‘Adrian’ - obviously they don’t know me.

I was raised Catholic. My parents are Catholic, my mother very much involved with the church. My music teacher, my great-aunt, Amy Bartholomew, left her house and all her pianos to her church. I am an atheist. I don’t understand how people can claim God is omnipotent yet hold him only responsible for the “good" phenomena, never the “bad". They praise him when surviving a bad accident but don’t blame him for the accident itself. Sounds like extortion to me.

Read more

Show more posts