edge

​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.

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The Joy made of Saro

My name is Sonya Sanchez Arias and 42 years ago, when I was 13 and he was 14, my brother, Saro, died.


I would have loved to have known who Saro would have married. Who his kids would have been. But I’m grateful for the 13 years we had together.

My mother, Judy, was dating a Venezuelan and didn’t want his family to be bad-mouthing her without her knowing, so she went to Spain to learn Spanish. And met my father, Sarin, who was a bullfighter. Not too many people can say that! Saro and my elder sister Lydia were both born in Spain. My grandmother visited them in their cramped little apartment and insisted they come to Trinidad.

I think my husband, Fernando Arias, fell in love with me because I showed him his island heritage. His family left Havana and went to Miami in 1965 with only the clothes on their backs. Cuban Americans are so terrified of socialism, they cannot see Trump is fascism. But not my husband. I cannot even put into words how angry he is about Trump, a man who is everything his family taught him not to be.


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Prophesised by Sparrow

My name is Kennedy Swaratsingh and I have a CV as long as my arm.


In 30 years in public life, I have served as a priest, a soldier, a politician and a Cabinet minister. I have an MBA in tourism, a post-graduate in HR, and a doctorate in business administration, besides my degree in theology. I have never looked back and asked myself, “Boy, why did I do that?”

I was born in Tunapuna but my parents separated when I was very, very small and I grew up with my grandparents in St Joseph, hardly any houses there, then. My mother and grandmother, my three siblings and my aunt, Germaine, “Men-Men”, lived there, too.

My father left before I was fully conscious of him, as a child. So my grandfather, and two fantastic priests in St Joseph, Fr Curtain and Fr Tam, when we were growing up, [were our father figures].

Denise is my wife and my daughters are Kaitlyn, going on 14 and Kelsey, 12.
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​Curious as a Catherine

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Catherine Emmanuel Rydle and my mother said I turned into a question box at the “young” age of 28.


Last month, my mother, Mary Annette, had a stroke and, unfortunately, she didn’t make it. But she passed away at 3pm, which is the “Hour of Divine Mercy”, an incredible blessing. My brother, ‘Cesco, and I were so close to her. It would pain me to see our mom even mentioned in Trini to the Bone, which I did before she had the stroke — but I want to honour her. So I’m going to ask BC Pires to change everything I said to her to past tense; and even saying that is painful.
Read more

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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.
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

The Joy made of Saro

My name is Sonya Sanchez Arias and 42 years ago, when I was 13 and he was 14, my brother, Saro, died.


I would have loved to have known who Saro would have married. Who his kids would have been. But I’m grateful for the 13 years we had together.

My mother, Judy, was dating a Venezuelan and didn’t want his family to be bad-mouthing her without her knowing, so she went to Spain to learn Spanish. And met my father, Sarin, who was a bullfighter. Not too many people can say that! Saro and my elder sister Lydia were both born in Spain. My grandmother visited them in their cramped little apartment and insisted they come to Trinidad.

I think my husband, Fernando Arias, fell in love with me because I showed him his island heritage. His family left Havana and went to Miami in 1965 with only the clothes on their backs. Cuban Americans are so terrified of socialism, they cannot see Trump is fascism. But not my husband. I cannot even put into words how angry he is about Trump, a man who is everything his family taught him not to be.


Read more

Prophesised by Sparrow

My name is Kennedy Swaratsingh and I have a CV as long as my arm.


In 30 years in public life, I have served as a priest, a soldier, a politician and a Cabinet minister. I have an MBA in tourism, a post-graduate in HR, and a doctorate in business administration, besides my degree in theology. I have never looked back and asked myself, “Boy, why did I do that?”

I was born in Tunapuna but my parents separated when I was very, very small and I grew up with my grandparents in St Joseph, hardly any houses there, then. My mother and grandmother, my three siblings and my aunt, Germaine, “Men-Men”, lived there, too.

My father left before I was fully conscious of him, as a child. So my grandfather, and two fantastic priests in St Joseph, Fr Curtain and Fr Tam, when we were growing up, [were our father figures].

Denise is my wife and my daughters are Kaitlyn, going on 14 and Kelsey, 12.
Read more

​Curious as a Catherine

Picture courtesy Mark LyndersayMy name is Catherine Emmanuel Rydle and my mother said I turned into a question box at the “young” age of 28.


Last month, my mother, Mary Annette, had a stroke and, unfortunately, she didn’t make it. But she passed away at 3pm, which is the “Hour of Divine Mercy”, an incredible blessing. My brother, ‘Cesco, and I were so close to her. It would pain me to see our mom even mentioned in Trini to the Bone, which I did before she had the stroke — but I want to honour her. So I’m going to ask BC Pires to change everything I said to her to past tense; and even saying that is painful.
Read more

Show more posts