ABOUT...

A Summer in 1993 in Spanish Harlem finally reveals the secret past of Cuban-American cardiac nurse Negra Centron. A childhood secret torments the life and stifles the growth of a beautiful woman. The ancient religion of the Yoruba people of Nigeria, known as Regla de Ocha and Santeria in the Diaspora, is the engine behind this supernatural mystery thriller. This African-evolved religion, with its magic, is the backdrop for this tale of love, hate, deceit, betrayal, obsession, forgiveness, acceptance, and hope. Magic, ritual, and destiny are the threads unraveling this gripping, edgy, mystery/thriller.

Pressured by a suspicious mother, a strange bed-fellow, and an amorous co-worker, Negra battles to keep a childhood secret from unraveling while a restless spirit and the African gods seek justice...

Monday, May 24, 2010

ROMANCING THE HOOD...

Pre-sale tix only $20 on sale in August @ http://www.nuyorican.org

As I was writing 'A Wound In Time" I tried to capture the essence of the inner city. The essence being something of great beauty and intensity... Where exists a life force so strong, yet where the need to survive was always life or death. I remember, growing up in the South Bronx, hearing the distant beat of the conga drums on Summer nights. There was something that was very sensual about it. Just as there were stories of guys on street corners singing Doo Wop, there were the guys on the stoops, or in the park playing the congas to pass the time on hot nights. The distant sound of the congas is a memory that is so vivid and one that has stayed with me through the decades. For there is a paradoxical beauty to ghetto life. The struggle of making it through the next day; to the next pay check; to the next rent payment; the next meal, and the joy of dancing in the streets; of playing in the johnny pump; of neighbors knowing one another and their protective eyes watching the coming and going of strangers... For that was life in New York's inner city.

Though many things have changed in the inner city, the distant beat of the conga is a constant on hot Summer nights somewhere in Nueva York.

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