A Rainy Day in New York: Art, Family, and Memories

MoMA, Whitten, MaryAnn, and Reed

Finally, we were ready to hit the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA), and I was thrilled to plan the visit with my cousin, MaryAnn de la Cerna. Once again, we braved the rainโ€”because fair warning: Mr. K. and I donโ€™t seem to bring the sunshine. It snowed in Paris and rained in New York! What?!

Upon entering the renowned MoMA, we were warmly greeted by a guide who advised us to head straight to the sixth floor to view the Jack Whitten exhibit. As we read his bio outside the gallery, we had to pauseโ€”he was a Black artist from Bessemer, Alabama, waiting for us? We were beyond excited.

Whittenโ€™s exhibit was stunning. His use of varied media and inspiration from jazz and the Civil Rights Movement took our breath away. These werenโ€™t portraits but deeply layered contemporary works. Some pieces were painted with afro combs, nodding powerfully to the era. He even designed his own instrument to shape and texture the dimensions of his pieces. There were sculptures, tooโ€”some inspired by the Civil Rights Movement and the events in Birmingham.

We were captivated for two hours. Then, it was time to meet MaryAnn downstairs.


Slideshow of some of Whitten’s pieces. For full details on Jack Whitten’s exhibit, click Indelible,

My Cousin? MaryAnn de la Cerna

Let me tell you a story.

While visiting my father in the hospital in Chicago, I answered a phone call from a woman with a lovely voice who introduced herself as his cousin. I’d never met her before, which is no surprise; I know very little about my dad’s folks. She told me her last name: de la Cerna. I said, โ€œThe only de LaCerna I know is MaryAnn, a classmate of mine.โ€

She responded, โ€œIโ€™m her mother!โ€

Yโ€™allโ€”I was shook! MaryAnn and I attended St. Thomas Apostle High School together. We smiled at each other (and sometimes frowned!) but had no idea we were cousins.

Since that day, MaryAnn and I have stayed in touch through emails, phone calls, and even handwritten postcardsโ€”sheโ€™s a pen-to-paper kind of person. Iโ€™d tried to meet her during past trips to New York, but the stars never alignedโ€”until now.

Mr. K. and I made our way to the museum bookstore to meet her, but I didnโ€™t see her anywhere. I called herโ€”and she was literally sitting on the bench right next to where I was standing. She had a hat on and wasnโ€™t wearing the glasses I remembered from high school!

After a joyful hug and introductions (it had been 1968 since we last laid eyes on each other), we headed to a cozy Italian restaurant she knew well. Mr. K. and I sipped martinis; we all shared a fresh salad and devoured copious amounts of pizza. The visit was glorious.

Afterward, MaryAnn, the consummate New Yorker, was ready to take us to Times Square. Mr. K. and I? We were like, โ€œUber, Uberโ€ฆtake us home!โ€ ๐Ÿ˜„

BTW, You can catch MaryAnn in Garden Spices. Y’all know I had to get her to submit one of her essays. What?!

MaryAnn and moi

Reedโ€™s Visit

Curry at Pa Pa Thai

The next day, we got ready for a visit from Mr. Kโ€™s son, Reed, who had flown in from Paris to see friends in New York. My dear friends Pat and Thomas hosted him at their home in Harlem. We grabbed coats and umbrellas (yesโ€”it was still raining) and walked to a nearby Pa Pa Thai restaurant.

We shared great food and even better stories. Can I just sayโ€”itโ€™s such a blessing to be with family. Reed, with his quiet charm (remember Paris?), made a lasting impression on Pat and Thomas. They ended the visit by inviting him to stay with them anytime he returned to the city.

While we were ready to walk home and wind down, Reedโ€”true to his NY-savvy selfโ€”was off to the Village to meet more friends.


Our Concert with “DJ” Thomas

Only a quarter ofThomas’ collection


That night wrapped with a private concert from DJ Thomas himself. His music collection is massive, and we got down to Luther, The Temptations, The Oโ€™Jays, The Gap Bandโ€”you name it. Add in a few libations, some dancing, and a film, and we were satisfied.

I even stayed awake for the movie G20. What?!



Joy Juice

Hereโ€™s what I know: Every one of my trips includes at least one museum visit. I find them fascinatingโ€”like walking through a portal to emotion, history, and imagination. But discovering a family connection? Thatโ€™s beyond any exhibit. Finding MaryAnn, my cousin, and sharing a day with herโ€”that was a moment of grace.

My extended family is scattered across the U.S. and the Caribbean. I donโ€™t know them all, but now I know her. And thatโ€™s a treasure.

So, if you have extended family you havenโ€™t connected withโ€”do it. Call them. Text. Write. Visit. Donโ€™t take it for granted. Roots matter. Of course, we are all rooted in our friendships; that’s family, too!

โ€œGrandchildren are the crown of the elderly, and the glory of children is their parents.โ€
โ€” Proverbs 17:6

โ€œA family is like a forest. When you are outside, it is dense. When you are inside, you see that each tree has its place.โ€
โ€” African Proverb

โ€œItโ€™s all good/love/Godโ€ โ€“ Victorine

ยฉ 2025 Vicki Goldston, All rights reserved.

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โ€”please Subscribe and Follow my blog!  Name(required) Email(required)

Help keep the stories flowing. Please support Spicyโ€ฆa blog by Victorine, through Patreon. 

 Victorine, Bio

Author of  Be S.A.F.E., StillAware, Faithful, Excellent, now available on Kindle Amazon as an e-book.

โ€œโ€ฆthe book title and its content are intended to be a whisper, reminding us that by connecting with our spiritual self, we can center through anything and that we are forever within the bubble of Godโ€™s protection.โ€

Donโ€™t forget to check out Garden Spices Magazine.

https://www.instagram.com/gardenspicesmagazine/%post_id

Why I Love New York: Soul Food and Jazz Experiences

Part 2:

Why New York?

I live in Florence, AL, but I am originally from Chicago, “Second City.” I love my Southside roots and still sample all the city’s culture and style. While Chi has my heart, my soul pumps when I visit New York. While writing this, I realized the difference between the two – it’s me.

I’m no longer the young woman living on the Northside, walking to work on the Magnificent Mile, singing at the Free Theater, or eating Japanese food with Chris Kobayashi in my building of young hopefuls. Taking a bus, subway, or cab, staying out into the wee hours? No more. However, even at 75, New York invites this lifestyle and more. Don’t get me wrong; my knees hurt in New York, like in Chicago, but I still managed to do what makes me love the Big Apple. What?!

Getting Our Feet Wet

Schomberg’s Socially relevant artwork from A to Z

I told y’all about Gypsy in my last post. The next day, my friend Pat, Mr. K, and I went to the Schomberg Center for Research of Black Culture housed in a Harlem library. We viewed a small exhibit by young folks, including all socially relevant artwork, curated alphabetically. While some work was humorous (Take a look at Z!) all was impressive, but the day was early. Where to now? We were guided by a vintage New Yorker, Kathy Roberson, who knew all the free haunts. She sent us to the National Jazz Museum, hoping the early-day concert would be brewing. And boy, was it!

It was. on like a pot of neckbones! This small, colorful venue housed wonderful art, and we caught the last half hour of a jazz trio with a drummer that kept us enthralled. After leaving the concert room, we explored the exhibit area with everything from a cardboard standup of Dizzy Gillespie to one of Duke Ellington’s pianos. My hunger for jazz was satisfied, but now it was time to eat.


Trek to Soul Food Paradise – Sylvia’s

Despite the mild rain, we walked to see what cuisine piqued our interest. We passed an Ethiopian place, a Thai, and an Italian, and finally, Pat suggested we travel for fish. We were game until we ran into the legendary Sylvia’s, the Soul Food restaurant. While we wanted fish, we had to go in and at least have drinks at Sylvia’s. Upon our entry, the cashier and hostess, Sylvia’s granddaughter, were warm and welcoming. After being ushered to our table, we were like, “We eatin’ right here!”

We had a great time with our waitress, carefully placing our order. Mr. K. and Pat had libations (Mr. K. had the nerve to order Long Island Iced Tea, and y’all know he had to share his ministry, Khan Academy. What?!). We ordered baked turkey wings with garlic potatoes, greens, and yams, and Pat ordered the mac’n’cheese. We had cobbler for dessert. When I tell you that food was on point? I never tasted cornbread like those muffinsthey were delicious, even to Southern palettes. What?!

Y’all know we like to talk. So when we met Sylvia’s granddaughter, we got the complete lowdown on Sylvia and the family’s participation in making the restaurant what it is today. She recalled days in her childhood when the entire family was called upon for restaurant duties – folding napkins, prepping food, etc. Afterward, we met the owner, Sylvia’s son, Kenneth Woods, and it felt so good to be in this Black historical eatery.

When we made it home, rather than hitting another club, we opted to relax and get ready for the next New York adventure. Can we say MOMA? (The Museum of Modern Art) What?! STAY TUNED…


Yep! Pat Lewis and I getting down at Sylvia’s
Mr. K. and I, with Kenneth Woods, Sylvia’s son


SLIDE SHOW OF SYLVIA’S FOOD AND PRODUCTS

Joy Juice

History is so important. We grab it wherever we can, sometimes even in a restaurant. New York and cities all over the world include sites and centers that continue to recognize the past. These stories continue to be important in shifting the future.

Some, like the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, are being threatened, but we continue to recognize what the exhibits celebrate by living in our greatness. We create our own history, and whether or not we have a museum, our descendants carry our legacy. Our history is us, our stories, and we ain’t going nowhere!

for we were born but yesterday and know so little; our days here on earth are as transient as shadows. 10 But the wisdom of the past will teach you. ..” – Job

“Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”
George Santayana

“Until the lion tells the story, the hunter will always be the hero.” – African proverb

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โ€œItโ€™s all good/love/Godโ€ โ€“ Victorine

ยฉ 2025 Vicki Goldston, All rights reserved.


Please Subscribe and Follow my blog! Name(required) Email(required)

Please support Spicyโ€ฆa blog by Victorine, through Patreon. 

 Victorine, Bio

Author of  Be S.A.F.E., StillAware, Faithful, Excellent, now available on Kindle Amazon as an e-book.

โ€œโ€ฆthe book title and its content are intended to be a whisper, reminding us that by connecting with our spiritual self, we can center through anything and that we are forever within the bubble of Godโ€™s protection.โ€

Donโ€™t forget to check out Garden Spices Magazine.

https://www.instagram.com/gardenspicesmagazine/%post_id