Brighton up the Cliffs

Time flies when you’re black and traveling alone in England, you can quote me. Tonight is my last night in Brighton. As soon as we rolled in I immediately felt a lot more comfortable here than in Dover. The colorful buildings, quirky stores, and black people, hallelujah (not many, but still). I spent the past three days walking around, buying more cute stuff, and sitting on the rocky beach. Today I treated myself to something I usually only do once a year, I got a pedicure. Contrary to when I’m on holiday, I’m a penny pincher when I’m at home in Austin. I don’t eat out often, I don’t go shopping, and I never get my hair or nails done because I’m always saving up for my next trip. Today was the perfect day for some self maintenance. It was great to let someone else take care of me. I ate lunch at this cute bar and then got a massage. Feeling totally relaxed I went to this funky theater and saw the “Whitney” documentary. It was just as heavy as I’d expected and sad, but also uplifting. She was a national treasure and no one could ever match her. Oh my gosh, I totally almost forgot. The first thing I did this morning was go to the Brighton Museum & Art Gallery. It was so cool. I highly recommend it. They had an entire room dedicated to queer looks and transgender peoples journeys. Also an exhibit about Nigerian fashion and Carnival costumes. One exhibit was dedicated to two artists I’ve never heard of, Gilbert and George. Their eccentric, colorful, provocative pieces hung so deliberately in your face. At first I was going to pass on this because I didn’t know if I’d have time, but this was one of the best places I visited on my trip so far. Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m rushing through these posts. I don’t want it to come across like that. I want quality. I don’t want it to seem like I’m doing this for shits and gigs (even though thats exactly what it is) I just want my passion to exude. I also now realize how hard it is to not be in certain forms of contact with the people you love. I really miss talking to my friend Amy, and most of all I really really miss the sound of my moms voice. I don’t want another $400 phone bill so we email almost everyday instead of talk, but I really want to hear the sound of her voice. I go back to the US in one week. I’m not particularly homesick or anything, but along with the conversion rate I’m really looking forward to hearing her annoy me.

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