One night in the mid 1970's -- when I had returned to live in my birthplace of New York City for a few years, I was sitting alone in the front row of a trendy nightclub-- sitting at the edge of my seat, that is -- with my shoes balanced on the front lip of the stage -- enjoying the mirthy, jazzy music of an all-female performing troupe. They were terrific! Their music and stage presence moved every fibre of my being.
They called themselves Pele Juju -- their name combined the energy of volcano fire Goddess Pele from Hawaii and Juju to represent African reggae rhythms.
I felt so moved by their weaving primal elements together with their exquisite sounds and movements and joyful juicey ways, I took out my set of handy oil pastels and spontaneously re-created the colours I saw and felt and heard on the empty black canvas pad on my lap. What a treat watching my fingers dance along in this way!