Wikipedia, the world’s fountain of knowledge, had to tell Anna Bradley-Smith her ex-boyfriend’s birthdate. And it told her something else, too. Continue reading THE NEW VERSION: WHEN WIKIPEDIA TELLS YOU YOUR EX HAS MET SOMEONE NEW
Anna-Bradley Smith is about to be in the same room as a man she’s turned into a God, and his name is Lil Wayne. Continue reading WHAT’S A GOON TO A GOBLIN?
The animals may be not be alive and well, but the art form definitely is. Anna Bradley-Smith delves into the weird and growing world of taxidermy. Coco holds out a dead duckling on a tray. Its small, fluffy body stands upright, ready to waddle away; its eyes are open and unblinking. Coco’s eyes are also open, unblinking, fixed on something to his right. Standing with … Continue reading THE UNDYING ART OF TAXIDERMY
We know when one door shuts, another opens; but two Bed-Stuy businesses have gone one up by sharing an entrance and letting the old and new come together. People are sitting under a leafy peach tree, some have wine, some coffee. Hanging shells swing in the breeze as the sun slices across the garden; J Dilla’s voice floats softly outside. You’d be forgiven for ordering … Continue reading A UNION FIT FOR A GODDESS
Two years ago I wrote this, pretty much to the day. Go to India. Do it. When people say India is in your face, they aren’t joking. Wafts of pollution, rubbish, excrement and delicious spice get up your nose. Tooting, shouting, music, calls to prayer and constant chattering permeate your ear drums. The extremes of poverty and wealth, colour, dirt and people spread as far as the eye can … Continue reading A TRIP FOR THE SENSES
Oh to be on South Beach. To watch the crowds, feel the music pumping from every bar down Ocean Drive. To see the skin and smell the margaritas. Oh to arrive at a hostel find a small café, a bar by the pool, loungers and palm trees galore. Oh to be in Miami. To have the sand stuck in the cracks and creases, to duck … Continue reading ODE TO MIAMI
India is a country filled with colour and light, but like everywhere – there are shadows. Anna Bradley-Smith tells about being caught in the dark.
I could feel him beside me, driving slow enough to stay in line.
It was dark and there were only a couple of other men scattered on the street. One put out his rubbish and stepped back inside his gate. I wanted to call out, I could feel something wasn’t right. Less than a kilometre from home, I couldn’t have felt further away from locking my front door.
I’ve been told it’s a city of dreams, it never sleeps, it’s where you go to make it.
Two nights ago in the subway in Brooklyn a rapper from San Francisco told us it was a city that would kill us inside a bit more each day.
If a refugee crisis, climate change, the panama papers and the real possibility of Donald Trump being the president of the United States of America tells us anything, it is that the world is on fire.
And after living in London, I feel like the fire is not going to be dampened anytime soon. Let me explain.