Karen McDonald

Palace Keniston...

I am visiting home for the summer. Plenty of folks to see and conversations to have. Thursday evening I left Compton from visiting Riua's, a mentor of mine, and headed for Leimert Park to meet George by 8:30. We were invited to have dinner at his sister Karen's house. I greatly respect and admire Karen in a way that is still very down to earth and I am completely comfortable in her presence. She makes you feel like she is on your side and your back is got. I was excited about the evening. I made the quick left on 43rd Place from Vernon and turned right on Degnan and saw George already there talking to El when I pulled up. He asked if I wanted to leave my truck and ride with him up the hill to Karen's. Tempting, but I was already listening to the gospel song I kept repeating and wasn't quite ready for the groove to end. Besides, I was in my mother's Expedition and the tags were recently expired and leaving the truck on the street in Leimert Park might mean that I could return to a ticket. "No, I'll follow you." I silently laughed as he got into his Pathfinder and we drove less than three miles up into Baldwin Hills. We were alone in our twelve-seater suvs following each other just three miles away at a time when gas is at a whopping $3.15 a gallon. What is this world coming to?

We drove up the hill that held the beautiful homes onto Keniston and parked. I quickly took in the blessing and the nostalgia of being back home in Los Angeles and prepared myself for...I dunno...the majesty of Karen McDonald. Karen is a dancer. A dance teacher. A life coach, you know this is true if you have ever sat in one of her dance classes. A mother of two awesome and grown children, Tau, her son and daughter Nina, whom they also call Kamala, also a dancer. There is something special about Karen. Special to say the very least. She stands about 5'7" and is vegan thin and Goddess gorgeous with short brown hair twisted in small knots that I bet are holding stories I may never be grown up enough to write. She has a small nose and freckles. Like me. I smile because I make it mean something fabulous about me that we have small noses and freckles together. We seek glory where we can get it don't we? She moves gracefully and dresses like a dancer. Always.

As I walked up the walkway against it's immaculately laid out lawn, I could smell...I'm not sure what it was. Incense I think. Musk? Outside. She gracefully greeted us at the dark brown front wooden door just under the ark that sat on the brick porch. We took our shoes off as we entered the barefoot enclave. Her home is like a museum. I could not look her in the face as she spoke because there was art and spells all around and I, like a two year old at bedtime, feared I might miss something if I didn't stare it down and touch it. "Ohh...where'd you get this one?" Every room. Impeccable. I had been there a couple of times before for specific occasions but had never gotten the tour. You know the tour. By the owner when you get to hear the stories about the place. I got the tour this time. Na nana naaaaa naaaa!

We walked through the dining area, past the kitchen and through the washroom to the backyard. I felt like I was in a spa. There was a dark charcoal rubber puzzle type mat covering the cement floor and outdoor tables with Merlot colored umbrellas. Then I walked up three steps and was on the lawn and immediately to my side there was a hammock. A for real no joke one where I could sleep and manifest my dreams. The tour could have ended for me right there. Karen is enough like that. You should take her in pieces. And if you are wise, you receive only the pieces she offers. She offered me sacred pieces of her yesterday. Her home, her conversation, her food, her art. And I accepted. Honored.

We went back inside and walked downstairs into the garage. Don't worry about what's so special about a garage. Only a fool would even ask. It's Karen's garage and you simply get ready. I did. Though of course I was not prepared. I was suddenly in a guru's workshop. Where she makes her magic and casts her spells. For now that's all I'll say about the garage. I will not give out all of the secrets. You were not invited after all. I was. George was.

Back up the stairs past the kitchen where this time I noticed the exposed pantry and how the food was aligned perfectly like and army in formation. Birds in the sky were more like it. We went into the living room where there was a big mirror where she dances, when she dances in the house. Wood floor and a piano in the corner. The baskets. I didn't mention the baskets yet. There were baskets everywhere. Perfectly placed. These baskets held the breath of angels, the whispers of God, the wishes of the ancestors. Something poetic like that. Even better.

In the den, I called it the den, was the magic room where we watched the film of her student's dance recital. I felt special. But before that we had dinner. Karen, George and myself. The dining room (the other one?) is a room that sits adjacent to the den. She slid open the door and I was wowed. I, you should know, am a pretty good designer. And I spend enough time watching HGTV (home and gardening television). So wowing me is not the easiest feat. The ceiling was painted red. The table was beautifully set with candles and dishes that were carefully selected. She brought a bowl of soap water to us where we dipped our fingers and she dried our hands. I was served. It reminded me of the Biblical times when they washed each other's feet.

The appetizer was rice with asparagus and broccoli. And the entree was salad. A zebra stripped bowl of color. Delicious. We had pomegranate juice in champagne glasses. Class. Then for dessert we had mango ice cream and an oatmeal cookie. In between that we shared the stories of our yesterdays.

Somewhere toward the end of the salad Tau came in. I am always in love with the way he is with his mother. He stood over her and held her shoulders while he spoke to her describing his day. She listened. Like grown women listen. Like mamas listen. Head held back and tilted not missing a word.

After watching the recital videos I said goodnight. She and George walked me out and I drove home. High. I will be grown like that.