counting down til 2008...

stole this from 'nay. 'cause i ain't have nothin better to do...

Where did you begin 2007?
don't remember...people have been asking and i can't think of what i was doing...

What was your status by Valentine’s Day?
same as usual...with honey in some way/shape/form.

Were you in school (anytime this year)?
no

Did you have any encounters with the police?
when i discovered someone tried to separate my car door from the car frame...

Where did you go on vacation?
in my mind. (what she said...)

What did you purchase that was over $500?
lmao...no, let me rephrase that. LMAO.

Did you know anybody who got married?
yup.

Did you know anybody who passed away?
yes

Did you move anywhere?
no

What sporting events did you attend?
i think that one wizards game dude took me to was in '07...

Describe your birthday:
again, don't really remember.

What’s something you thought you would not do but did in 2007?
actually devote some cyberspace to my writing

What has been your favorite moment(s)?
getting a new job
reconnecting with c.
watching the youngest godkid grow up

Any new additions to your family?
not blood fam, no

What was your best month?
i'm breathing & in good health. they're all good months.

Who has been your best drinking buddy?
n/a. lol. i haven't been out much...

Overall, how would you rate this year?
it's been a struggle.

Change your hairstyle?
oh yeah. lol. cut my almost 6 yr old locs in august...

Do you have a New Year’s resolution?
no more fish.

Do anything embarrassing?
i'm sure. lol.

Buy anything new from eBay?
nope

Get married or divorced?
HA

Get arrested?
no.

Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
i never watch beyond the initial auditions. once they get the first 100, i'm thru.

Did you get sick this year?
more than usual, in fact.

Been snowboarding?
not a fan of randomly sliding around on snow...

Are you happy to see 2007 go?
in many ways, yes.

Been naughty or nice?
depends on your definition...

la lupe

did y'all know about this woman? i didn't...

there's an independent lens special about her.

Lupe Yoli was born in the small, rural town of San Pedrito, Santiago de Cuba in 1936. She described her hometown as “so poor that no one knew it existed until I got famous.” When she was a teenager, Lupe won a radio contest that enabled her to meet Olga Guillot, a popular Cuban singer in La Habana (Havana), and sing on the radio.

By 1957, “La Lupe” was all the rage in La Habana’s competitive nightclub scene. Her first performances at the club La Red in 1958 catapulted her to fame as she urged pianist Homero Balboa to play “faster, faster.” Soon, she had a dedicated gay and avant-garde following.

In 1960, her marriage to Eulogio “Yoyo” Reyes ended, along with their musical group, Los Tropicuba. When the Cuban Revolution dawned, La Lupe left the country, like many other Cuban artists at the time. Her performances had been criticized for providing a bad example to the state.

Arriving in New York City penniless in 1962, La Lupe soon befriended and recorded with world-renowned Afro-Cuban percussionist Mongo Santamaria. In LA LUPE QUEEN OF LATIN SOUL, Santamaria recalls how he introduced La Lupe to “an American” jazz audience and how Tito Puente stole her from his band once she became the “hottest thing.”

In 1964, La Lupe and Tito Puente recorded the Latin classic “Que Te Pedi (What Did I Ask of You)”. For the next four years, she recorded and toured the Latin music circuit in the U.S., Venezuela, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Panama and Spain.

During the late 1960s, Tito Puente started to record with Celia Cruz, and La Lupe struck out on her own, performing and appearing on English language television shows. During this time, the burgeoning Fania Records helped to popularize salsa, the latest Latin music sensation. By 1975, Fania’s new rising star was Cruz, and La Lupe’s career was on the decline. Fania Records ended her contract, and Lupe became destitute.

By 1985, La Lupe had rebounded from a descent into homelessness. Having been a lifelong practitioner of Santeria, she then became a born-again Christian, preaching in evangelical testimonials. When filmmaker Pedro Almodóvar used La Lupe’s song “Puro Teatro” in his 1988 film Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, interest in her music was rekindled.

La Lupe passed away in 1992. She was survived by her husband, William Garcia, and her children Rene and Rainbow. In 2002, New York City renamed the Bronx’s East 140 Street La Lupe Way.

stuck

another blockage...
this one is difficult to pinpoint.

can't write.
can't dream.

somewhere between this entry and this one.

i'm thinking something like reiki or acupuncture would help...yoga might be too daunting. typically when i feel like this, my body turns into lead; even the simplest asanas become a chore. i still may try anyway...

thankfully, though, i'm not depressed or saddened. i haven't been crying into my iced tea or anything like that. it's more of a neutral numbness.

i think i need a whole lot of this





and to holla @ my fam in togo & benin...

honoring the red

as soon as fall nears--i.e., from september, peaking around thanksgiving, and winding down at the winter solstice--i become increasingly aware of my native american ancestors. i think because of the half-truths and flat out lies surrounding thanksgiving combined with all the cultural misappropriation.

i also begin to feel mournful as the weather turns cold, but recognize that it is not my sadness. i guess this comes from losing so many to the winter marches west during the forced migrations.

at any rate, it occurred to me to place something for them on my egun altar for thanksgiving--or, as many indigenous people refer to it, the day of mourning: some beautiful indian corn i got at the farmer's market, cornmeal, and tobacco (which i keep for my ancestors anyway since so many of them smoked).

they have touched me in dreams and waking visions. a woman taught me a "heartsong". when i almost forgot it, she came and taught me again. i have remembered it ever since.

i used to have dreams of a shaman dressed in a flannel shirt and overalls who would do readings for me.

in another dream, a group of men i somehow recognized as "cousins" invited me into their circle to drum with them. i politely refused, thinking i'd be intruding, but they insisted. i did not drum with them, but, upon waking, i immediately wished i had. i thought, "they were family...". to this day, my desire to own a drum hasn't left me.

this morning i offered their gifts with a prayer close to this one:

to my ancestors who walked this land before me, i give thanks. many of us do not know your names or your faces, but we know your blood runs through our veins. we thank you.

please do not be mournful: be joyous! come and teach us, let us learn from you about caring for the earth and honoring you. come into our dreams so we may learn your ways. we love you.

i thank you for your guidance and the work you do in my life. may you continue to be a force of goodness and strength.

ase.

the very particular way the wind whistled past my ears as i walked back home signaled their acceptance.

they have so much to teach us, and many of them think they have been forgotten. but just as many native people are going back to the ways of their ancestors, so are we.

we remember
we remember
we remember...

(pre)menstrual musings

constantly hungry.
spiritually sensitive.
wondering why i haven't had 2-3 babies by now.
slightly unfocused.
dreamy.
constantly exhausted and energized at the same time.
formlessly creative (in need of OUTLETS!).
frustrated.
entranced.
craving orgasm.
vaguely nauseous.
lunar.
stiff. a little achy.
full-feeling.
talkative. ideological.
blocked.
waiting for the flow.

the egungun must be workin on me today...

i actually went in search of a gospel station on live365.com this morning. ha!

a few months ago, someone on myspace mentioned the caravan to the ancestors in galveston, texas. apparently there were some christian songs sung during the procession, and one of the organizers said something like, "before all you ultra-orisha people get upset, you know your grandmother prayed for you at so & so baptist church..."

at just about every ancestor event i've been to, i've heard at least one spiritual sung, often at the urging of the egungun themselves.

remember: those before us coded the language of western scripture and used it to their advantage. it took generations' worth of removal from africa before they fully bought in to the white man's faith, forgetting the symbols and signs.

before that, spirituals were musical morse code, and the bible--for many--was an odu of liberation.

just a thought.

y'all be cool.

caption this pic

go on.
i dare you.
no, i'll wait...

inexplicable.

this breaks my heart just as much as this does.

how did my people become so forgetful? where in the bible was christ condemning children as witches and burning them with hot water?

again, i say:

despite the disappointment i feel around these issues, i am convinced that the universe does nothing by accident or coincidence...[we need to arrive at a place] where the hoodoo way can be learned in conjunction with the history and culture of our people so that we are not worried about hunting down witches, but focused on casting spells (i.e., social programs, books, media, curricula) that will strengthen and uplift our people and the world.

testifyin'

iba osun sekese
latojoku awede we 'mo
iba osun olodi
latojoku awede we 'mo
iba osun ibu kole
latojoku awede we 'mo
yeye kari, yeye 'jo, yeye opo
o san rere o
ase

i have rested my worries in the lap of my mother
she's full of honey and adorned with peacock feathers
olodumare's sweetheart

she who has ears to hear, i know you have heard me, and how quickly you work your magic. i am trusting you to see me through as you have done so many times before.

...off to my bath of sandalwood and roses.

be blessed & bountiful, lovelies.

peace.

crazy week...

i came into some money i was owed only to have to spend it all...knowing i'll come into a little more next week.

tried to look normal while navigating a plethora of cravings, needs, and desires--including but not limited to an unnatural yen for breakfast foods, constant thoughts of sex, and a desperate need for a hot bath with rose petals and sandalwood--all of which, at this hour, remain largely unfulfilled.

got a small check, but lost my atm card (no xmas shopping for me this weekend...).

had the catering for the xmas party at work screw itself up, ultimately resulting in enough food for everyone, several "thank you"s, and, shut my mouth, leftovers.

i've also been trying to keep one man's head above water while spending time with another, all the while realizing that, despite the flaws inherent in both relationships, i love them both immensely.

froze in bed half the night (it is still ridiculously cold in here).

dealt with two phone calls in as many days from a deeply disturbed man (and i do not work in mental health...).

and i think this is the longest i can remember several nights of sleep with no dreaming and/or dreaming that makes no sense whatsoever.

sigh

i still want to cut my hair (last week there was no parking. now i don't have access to my money and will have to spend time rectifying that before i can even think of doing anything extra)

laundry's waiting to be done

i finally got the house semi-clean this evening. there's still vacuuming to do and a bathroom floor to scrub, but the kitchen is passable, you can see my living room table again, and my clothes are finally put away...

i'm still cold

etc and so on.

at least it's friday.

i know i ain't ready, but...

i wanna be in love again.

like, seriously in love with someone.
who can be there, fully
and love me
and adore me
and who i wanna adore back.

my feelings in that area are somewhat misdirected at the moment.
i'd like them to get back on track.

but how?
when?
who would i actually let in?

should i just start over with honey for what feels like the 1273840th time?

sigh

breakdown

i was resisting writing because i thought it would make things worse...but i think that getting some of this out is the only way to stop the visions in my mind.

so...

i have not had a dramatic life by any stretch of the imagination. compared to many, my situation was idyllic. i never went hungry, i had a parents and family who loved me, my intellect and talents were supported and encouraged, etc.

but the traumas that made it through those filters have stayed with me.

for instance, my parents couldn't stop death--something i learned early, and well.

for several reasons, my mother's family is my family. i look like my father's people, but i was raised with my mother's, almost exclusively.

my father's family is large and always getting larger, but my mother's family is not. and people don't live into their 80s and 90s. being born into a somewhat sterile family full of older folks meant that i had several, loving aunts and uncles, but hardly any cousins or other relatives my age.

i've gone from knowing a house full of people and laughter at christmas to just a handful of us at any given time. we're still close, no beef (modupe olodumare)...just so many empty seats. voices that don't carry across the room anymore.

my maternal grandmother passed when i was three years old, and i can barely remember her face. i remember how much she loved me, and i know her through family stories. she has been an immense spiritual presence, and i know she helped me through one of the most difficult times of my life. thanks to her daughter, my aunt, i have a beautiful picture of her on my egun altar.

over the years i've adopted different grandmothers, but i've never stopped wondering what it would be like to have my own back with me.

both of my grandmother's brothers have also passed on. i was particularly close to my uncle brother. i couldn't attend his funeral because i had to move back into the dorm at school. i have never been able to bring myself to go to his grave...i preferred remembering him as he was: tall, thin, the 80s sunglasses, perpetual drink in one hand, cigarette in the other.

his wife, aunt eunice, treated me like i was her own child. she was one of the sweetest women i've ever known, skin like dark chocolate. she died suddenly of a heart attack, i believe. i couldn't look at her in a coffin, either.

six years ago, my pop pop passed away the day after xmas. we had to have the funeral on new year's eve. to this day, it hurts me to see the christmas lights go up around me, knowing i won't see his gift under the tree or see him at the table. my last visions of him at the hospital, intubated and unable to speak, are some of the harshest memories i have. and every year they come back.

i went to his funeral, but i drew the line at the burial. i couldn't watch them put him in the ground; i stayed in the limo. i cannot find his grave--he insisted on being buried beside my grandmother in one of the oldest but worst maintained cemeteries in the city. i've been there a few times, once with my mother, but neither of us can find them. i'm told my great grandmother is also there, somewhere. i left an ebo for them all, last year i think. the least i could do. maybe i should think about leaving another one...

even being an aborisha doesn't save me from my grief. i know they are still there, watching over me: my grandmother has never left us and often shows up in our dreams. she was with me when i received my owofakan. when i went for my first spiritual reading, my aunt eunice stood with me. two other angels, my aunt emily and uncle jimmy, are also close by, i'm sure.

maybe it's because i lost them (and others)--with the exception of my pop pop--so young that it hurts so much. it wasn't until later that i thought about the things i would have asked, the conversations we would have had, the fact that they missed my graduations from high school or college...

i am grateful that many of them did not linger or suffer.
i pay them homage.
i know that it is because of them that i have some of the gifts i do.
they have touched, blessed and guided me, well and often.
but...i still miss them.

then there are my other memories.

at age five i was violated. not by an adult; more like a game of house that went too far (and even that was, i'm sure, because someone had hurt him). i never forgot it, but it felt like a bad dream my body remembered. i had all kinds of misplaced emotions, urges, and heartbreak that just should not have been.

i think my parents found out soon after, but i downplayed it and hid my true feelings. i never wanted to get him in "trouble", and i didn't want to hurt anyone. i figured that i could get through it, that if i just stayed quiet it would save folks the trouble and keep everyone happier. besides, no one would understand what i was feeling anyway, right?

my mother knew what to look for and watched me, but...well, let's just say that i'm a fairly decent actress--apparently that was my first career choice as a young child, although i don't remember feeling that way.

i don't remember a lot of things. i'm beginning to understand why.

fast forward to age 16 when i slept with my first boyfriend and had to deal with it. even so, i hid it all from everyone until said boyfriend gave me an ultimatum: get help, or consider him gone. this led to a little over a year of therapy and the near constant spiritual intercession of my grandmother, iba t'orun. i'm sure that only she and god kept the knives off my arms and the thoughts of suicide away.

that said, for all intents and purposes, i'm "over" it.

but as anyone who's been here knows, it never goes away.
some days it floods back, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.
it's just winds up being one of those "bad" days. or weeks.

i can't remember the last time i had a relapse this bad, but i had a hell of a trifecta going: new job in a new city (i.e., sudden change), relationship issues, and the impending holiday season. i should have seen it coming...

my inner child is powerful, but sad. it's not often that i can face her.

i feel like i don't have the right to complain, to hurt, to suffer--not compared to some of the other childhoods my friends and lovers have endured.

on the other hand, i know my pain is my own, it's justified, and that we all have our crosses to bear, big, small, or in between.

just another way station in the journey.

the price of sugar

just came across this.

the more things change, the more they remain the same...

for those who don't know the tattered history of sugar in the americas, please consider reading up.

this is more of a public service announcement than a guilt trip. if you feel that this is a battle for you to fight, have at it.

personally, i understand that just by virtue of LIVING in this country, i'm stepping on someone's neck, 24/7. case in point: i can't afford to have a closet full of non-sweatshop clothing--and what i could get i probably couldn't wear to most workplaces. how's that for ironic?

even so, i desperately fight apathy. at the very least, i can know where my (relative) affluence stems from and, at a minimum, say a prayer for anyone who may have been harmed in the preparation of my food/clothing/etc.

as such, i don't shy away from films & stories like this. we SHOULD see them.

and know.

peace & progress, y'all.

required reading

i've seen these stories before, but this one seems just a touch more serious & immediate than others over the years.

just skimming it has me a little edgy.

y'all watch yourselves out there...

reasonable silence...

i've been more concerned with experience than words. i'm ruled by my senses...the touch, feel, taste of things.

when i'm thrust into something new, i have to feel my way through. my capabilities for speech are diminished during the adjustment period. i have only been able to write enough to achieve understanding of the reasons that i am not writing.

if that makse sense.

my exposure to him* is probably a factor as well. our experience of each other is largely one of pure sensory overload. his presence is catalytic.

among other things.

anyway, y'all have a blissful weekend.

the moon is waxing. seeds are growing.
hope you've got a bountiful harvest to celebrate once she's full.


*note to self: he needs a blog-alias...some of y'all know the full story. any suggestions?

damn...

i'm still in this house.
addicted to sleep & dreams.
aimlessly roaming around cyberspace.
phone ain't rang...

there is no reason for this...
or maybe there is and i just can't see it.

oh well.

"lovers don't finally meet somewhere. they're in each other all along." ~rumi

for the past few days, i have been searching for the words to describe the experience of full and total devotion to the divine.

to encapsulate the "hallelujah...thank you, jesus!" moment in words, but to the tune of ancient african spirit calls and drums.

there is a difference when, instead of calling the name, you can chant the incantations, mix the herbs, light the candles, become the aspect of god that you desire to bring into your life or the aspect that lives in you.

it is the difference between believing in god and knowing the god within.

the interconnectedness of being.

but, beyond that, i just can't seem to get the words right.

sweet dreams

i was wandering around in a strange place--not totally forested, not totally urban--wearing a strange outfit. more a piece of fabric, really. it was plain when i first came to that part of the dream, but i turned it inside out, revealing a brilliant cobalt blue. i must not have wrapped it well because my right breast kept falling out.

i sat in this place, transfixed by the sight of butterflies mating and dying.

suddenly a deer showed up with her fawn, both with shining collars made of some kind of crystal or diamonds. the mother kind of wandered off, camouflaging herself here and there. the fawn seemed fearful of me at first, but soon he walked over and let me pet and play with him.

all of a sudden, a hunter appeared. i assumed they belonged to him, hence the collars. around that time, a third deer revealed herself--she seemed slower, heavy. pregnant.

the deer tried to run from the hunter, but he shot the mother and the fawn. the pregnant deer seemed less excited about running, so he kept her alive.

i cried for my little fawn. he didn't deserve that.

what were they trying to tell me?

i see deer as an embodiment of peace and sweetness. they also hold lessons in justified wariness, speed, and grace. lots of folks trying to hunt that down these days--if it was a totem dream.

i've been thinking about pregnancy again...maybe the deer were my fears coming back to me.

do i really feel that being a mother makes me a target? or that being pregnant saves me, but destines me to a life of some kind of captivity?

hm.

one day the clarity won't terrify me...

i'm in one of my stubborn moods.

i refuse to eat right.
or drink enough water.
i won't do any yoga.
or cook the right foods.

'cause i just don't wanna be that clear.

but...
next week when all is said and done
and i have time to rest
and renew
i'll also probably do some cleansing
and breathe
and reset myself.

abbreviated autumn

(a more fleshed out version of this)

i was outside earlier, and i could smell winter.
not autumn. full blown, icy, frosty, foreboding winter.

just that fast.

a week or so ago, i could barely stand to wear long sleeves, now i'm chilled to the bone. i can almost see snow on the horizon.

my native american ancestors are stirring--always the second half of the fall sensitivities. it makes sense. there's the day of the dead, thanksgiving...

something about the colors of autumn forces them to make their presence known.

the strange thing is that i'm almost looking forward to the cold and the dark and the disappearance of the sun.

i can't remember a time when i've wanted that, not even for the sake of christmas. it's difficult for me to be cold. i don't warm up easily; it takes a multitude of hot liquids, blankets, and layers and layers of clothing.

but i think winter justifies my current obsession with quiet, peace and solitude.
i've been nesting with no promise of a baby--at least no physical one.

hopefully this means true rebirth in spring...

i hear, i act, and i am rewarded

i popped up this morning after a somewhat nonsensical anxiety dream. feeling too lazy to go to the farmer's market, i started fooling around online. soon, i started to feel like i was being pulled away. a familiar feeling.

time to do some spiritual work...

there is still a part of me that attempts to ignore that pull. i suppose it's ego and conditioning--the drive to be "normal", the inculcated tendency to act like communing with the intangible is silly and childish. but spirit is insistent; to act in false ignorance is to betray my name.

so i tore myself away from myspace (i'm making that sound much more difficult than it actually was...) and got cleaned up: black soap and a yemonja rinse with sea salt and molasses.

then i settled in, opened up and listened.

spent the late morning and early afternoon tied up in shrine maintenance & meditation: cleaning vessels, pouring libations, dusting fabrics, reflection with ifa. the house still smells a bit like a temple.

despite my stubbornness, i always enjoy the work and feel enriched for having done it. there is something special about coming home from a long day and inhaling traces of candle wax, incense, and gin. i might walk in ready to curse out the world, but as i kick off my shoes, i am greeted by my warriors and my little black cat. they instantly transform my mood.

i am home.
i am loved.
i am protected.
i am connected to my source.

after today, i am certain that this past week took a more out of me than i thought.

i only left the house today to get some food.
the laundry remains in a bag, in the hallway.
i really have to get on that.

i suppose i'm still birthing...

but i've learned my lesson. the fount has been shut off. i will invest no more energy in this endeavor than is necessary. gotta keep that fire from flaring up.

and next weekend i'll be celebrating my new beginning...

maferefun esu...

modupe, esu, for helping me through. may you always open my roads towards peace, progress, and elevation. ashe.

i was told there would be days like this...

it was a rough week, and it's not quite over yet. but i remain empowered by the knowledge that this change is real, it's happening, and i have manifested it for myself. it is meant for me, and it will be glorious. i have nothing to worry about, and all the craziness will pass.

pms has been another challenge; a difficult to navigate power surge working on some deeper-than-usual levels. i've been uncomfortable and tired, and there are very few people i'm interested in speaking to. i probably just need peace and rest. i am trying very hard to be attentive to and respectful of my cycles; if i need to hide, i need to hide. nothing wrong with that.

i really don't know what i want to do with the evening. i need to do laundry, but i'll probably wind up lighting a bazillion candles and reading some cards or something. maybe editing.

the only person i could tolerate in my space right now is honey, and he's out of town on business.

so...that's that.

edit: after some thought, i've decided to give myself a pedicure, watch whatever came from netflix, and get some shea butter up in the 'fro.

listen up & pay attention...

why our 'flaws' are beautiful

...the quotes around "flaws" are mine 'cause i don't really see them as flaws.

that scar is a survival story.
wrinkles are the mark of a crone.
in parts of africa, gapped teeth are considered a beauty mark.

and so on.

amen & hallelujah to these women for flaunting what they "shouldn't".

i've got a lot to think about.

and some changes to go through. so forgive me if i don't write often...

the new job came through, so i've been giving thanks for that.

but now, all of a sudden, the current gig's got the money i should have had six months ago.

however....

i need a challenge.
i need to stretch my wings away from what i like to call the evil empire.
i need a change of scenery--even if it does come with a commute.
i need...fresh air. new faces.
i need opportunities that are gonna help me in the long run.

this deal i've been offered feels like a retrograde special--do it, and you'll regret it.

esu's already spoken, and so has my ori.

i know where i need to be, and i'm pretty certain that it ain't where i'm at.

but a little meditation & some cowrie tossin never hurt.

y'all stay beautiful.
peace.

a mad, mad, mad world

there are things i'd like to write about that are better kept quiet until i'm sure of the outcome.

other things i can feel, but have few or no words to express.

i'll try to touch on what i can, 'cause i have to get something out...

i feel another project coming on--that, or something calling out to be finished. i had a promising story/novel come to me a few years ago that i haven't been able to develop into any kind of coherent whole. it pokes me every now and then, i scribble whatever comes, then i leave it until the next time. not exactly a winning strategy.

the love project is...stalled. that was easier to work from a place of angst and a need to organize unrequited emotion. but, as he's wont to do, the subject of the piece has reared his head. now there's a new set of sentiments to deal with.

i recently began to reread ...said the shotgun to the head. i may have mentioned before that i enjoy saul williams because he's the only male poet i've read (to date) who seems to be trying to understand the divine feminine on a deep level. he also seems like the kind of man i'd probably fall head over heels for, but that's beside the point.

something in his words hits me on levels i didn't know anyone knew i had. he has a way of stirring the parts of me i've attempted to subdue in the name of normalcy. i realize that that is probably due more to his mediumship than the beauty of his poetry. i sense that he is often a vessel, same as i am.

i'd like to ask him how he learned to surrender...

there's also a lingering sense of need for...a spark. some sense of purpose, a goal, something. it seems that whenever i gain a new understanding or realization it just leaves me lusting after something else.

and now, instead of the depression it caused a few weeks ago, it's starting to feel like an itch. irritating and almost intangible. there's also a sprinkling of rage i like to call hungry baby syndrome, i.e., you scream until you're fed.

welcome to my mess.

y'all mind the retrograde, now.

amalgam

first things first: i love this post. and this one.

ok. now what?
hm.
i'm not sure. that's what i've been asking myself the last couple of days.

bored to tears.
praying for positive change.
preparing for the retrograde & new moon.
trying to hear all the voices in my head--and give them form.
suffering fools.
still aware.
undersexed and underinspired.
growing.

...and god only knows what else.

saul is providing an elusive muse-y vibe to life at the moment. thank you, mr. williams.

i'm not upset. or even distressed. just me outlining my limbo.

i'm confident in the knowledge that sango has me in his sights. i've heard you, baba. i'm trusting you to get me through.

maferefun egungun

the african burial ground is now a national monument. give thanks.

oldie but goodie...

i fall in love with youtube at least twice daily, i swear. lol.

i'm it...

aight. dark daughta tagged me. thanks, sistren, 'cause it gives me something to write about today...

the "rules"- Post the rules before you give the facts. Post eight random facts about yourself. At the end of your blog post, you need to tag eight people and list their names. Leave the people you tagged a comment on their blog, letting them know that they've been tagged.*

let's see.

one.
i have a love/hate relationship with my creativity.

two.
intellectual boredom depresses me. it's one of the main reasons i need a new job. if i'm going to be bored somewhere else, the least i can do is make enough money to take a vacation here and there and escape.

three.
i always thought i'd find one guy, settle down, and live happily ever after. babies optional. but now that i'm almost 30 and kinda sorta single again i wonder if it's possible. after two soulmates and the past four years of trying to work it out on earth, i'm exhausted. but i know i love love too much to stop trying.

three.
my inner vision and understanding of myself don't match up (at this moment) with my outer life. this also worries/distresses me.

four.
i am most comfortable with one foot in this world and the other in the spirit world. but there are very few conditions and circumstances that allow this to happen.

five.
i want a drum. i think that, somehow, i instinctively know how to play, and that learning will enrich me in some way.

six.
i'm pretty sure i'm gonna start my locs again. i loved them. i don't regret letting go of the years and the experiences that began that leg of my journey, but when phase two starts, i want another set to mark it. maybe i'll let those get to my knees.

seven.
my unintentional weight loss isn't too bad after all. i miss my ass though.

eight.
i'm waiting for someone to write about me the way i wrote/write about him.



*i always tag in reverse. or refuse to tag, if that makes more sense. if you're up to it, follow suit. if not, cool. i've always been bad at chain letters. lol.

life lesson #281092059

even the oldest, most powerful love needs time, care, and attention.

any castle, despite its magnificence, will fall into ruin if it is not cared for.

starve your art to feed your face

i feel you, girl...

i have lost no less than 4-5 essays/poems in the last couple of days.

this time of year sends me into monk mode. prayer, dreaming, communing, writing. those are pretty high on my list right now.

fielding emails, ordering supplies, and catering to whims is not.

my best stuff comes from wide, open spaces. half trance and total absorption.

i've learned how to steal time. blogging at my desk when something strikes me, scribbling in a notebook while waiting for the shuttle, etc.

i'm still re-learning flow, trying to honor my commitment to eliminate self-censorship.

freewrite to cut the fat.
prose journaling for emotions or to chronicle life.
pure emotion manifests as poetry.
post-meditation epiphanies.

one day we'll have the time and space to give these worlds and words the shape and form they deserve.

til then, back to the grind...

it's party time...

well, not for me. but this is an unusual time of year.

my antennae are a little sharper than usual.
so i see the world a little differently.

last night i told the-man-sometimes-known-as-honey that i'm tempted to walk around with a medicine bag full of juju and bless random people. get a plane and crop dust the 'hood with omiero.

the ancestors are grieving the losses that come too soon from misaligned ori and despair so internalized it's become an artificial aura.

lamenting because their families have blocked out their voices--all the better to hear the preacher man.

etc. and so on.

yeah.

life gets interesting in the fall.


p.s.--it's nice to know that a place like this exists. if i'd had access to something like that, it'd be interesting to see where i'd be now.

scene: a path of asphalt in front of a shopping center

players:
child, female, about 4-5 years old
teenaged girl
woman, maybe 30, more likely mid to late 20s
middle-aged woman and her 20-something daughter, in car

action:
baby girl stumbles while crossing the street.

woman responds by striking baby girl in the back--open handed, but hard. yanks baby girl up by her arm.

woman smacks baby girl again, not as hard, presumably for being upset about being slapped for falling.

teen is quiet.

20-something daughter jumps out of car and strikes baby girl's mother across the face with her car keys asking, "how'd that feel?"

...
well, the last part didn't happen.
but the rest of it did...

in response...

this dark daughta post (bkground collage not quite work safe) inspired the following comment:

do you think that by "resources" bell really meant the more institutionalized things, e.g., banks/financial, real estate...the overreaching sorts of things that have generated wealth for whitefolk?

'cause we DON'T really have those resources...not in large numbers.

the clip was so short, it's difficult to know who clarified what, what kinds of questions were asked by the audience & so on...

that said, i definitely see your point.

i grew up what you could call "middle class". my parents moved back into the city when i was born so i would know both sides of things. dad was insistent: no private school.

i learned how to "code switch" so i wouldn't have to worry about getting a job and all that, but it didn't matter what neighborhood my friends came from.

there were no jack and jill pretensions. we lived according to our means & that was that.

i was also raised with a healthy distrust for whitefolks--even today they sort of need to prove themselves before i cut them much slack.

the composite of that is experience is that i know i'm not from anybody's "hood", and don't try to be. i was parented and loved (there were issues w/ peers, but that's another story). i don't know what it's like to be hungry or any of that, and i don't have the issues that come from it.

however, i have friends and loved ones who do. who were the first in their fams to go to college, as of 2000 or so. who had teenage mothers. i understand the composite effects of these things and history on my ppl.

i'm glad my parents walked the line the way they did. if i'm to be a parent, i hope i can do the same for my kids.

you can be fortunate and still not distance yourself from your people because they, for whatever reason, are not. @ the same time, there will always be those who don't respect/listen to you because you're not from their block/corner/whatever. and that's cool too.

like you said, the complexities of it all are a BITCH.

teleportation & gypsies

dream sequence.

i was walking through my old elementary school trying to find a "portal" i used in recurring dreams when i was younger.

as i went through the usual sequence to get where i was going, it didn't seem to add up. a door i thought i remembered using was suddenly too small for an adult.

a few nights ago i had a similar dream about another passageway i used to access through what looked like my parents' basement. i had to concentrate harder to open the passage, and when i got through, i had to use another route because, again, the old one was too small.

i suppose that's confirmation that the releasing of old ways and methods is beneficial. i have to make a bigger, better way for myself, and it probably has more to do with expansion and deliberate action than playing around with teleportation or whatever the hell i was doing in the childhood dreams.


*segue*


not that we had much fleetwood mac in the house--there was at least one manhattan transfer album, but no fleetwood--but everything about this video and song resonated with me. even stevie's twirling dance. i loved all that fantasy stuff--the dark crystal*, legend...

when i see it now, it makes me think of oya or oshun...





*if i do wind up getting a guinea pig? i'm SO naming him/her fuzzgig...

wandering from the goddess

goddess glory posted this cool article from a blogger named chickenma1.

i would have linked to the original, but the comments got on my nerves.

wading thru toxicity

doesn't it suck when someone can just fk with your whole vibe?

i suppose that's what's meant by "toxic" individuals. just sap your joy away.

i was feeling ok today...a little tired 'cause it was hard to get comfortable last night, but ok.

then, suddenly, i feel stupid and backward and inferior like i don't know what the fk i'm doing...when that's really the exact opposite of how i should feel.

i gotta shine tomorrow. sell myself. do the damn thing.

right now, however, i think i just need some chocolate.

reality

i have a serious thing about fulfillment. i am not a pleasant person when i am unhappy or dissatisfied.

i don't expect to be free of desire, nor do i see the absence of desire as a natural state--unless your desire is warped into addiction.

if and when i begin to feel dissatisfied or distressed, i'm learning to shift reality, to make things look, sound and feel the way i want and expect them to.

i think people get caught up in understanding that process in a negative sense, i.e., you have to hurt or harm others to achieve that goal.

you don't.
you do not have to universally impose your will to achieve your bliss.

the universe has created a space for you--you do the work to find or open that space.

the need to bend others to your will is a sign of weakness and laziness. conquering isn't the same as mastering.

i don't need to make over anything not worth my ashe.

i voice the desire, i move towards the space.

the worlds of work and drudgery will never act as mother.

the earth and the universe will.

nike done did it again...

this kind of reminds me of the special heart medicine just for black ppl...

i guess it's sort of a "whatever works" thing, but...eh.

doesn't nike still have sweatshops?

i remember coming across blackspot sneakers a few years ago. but, knowing adbusters, that might be just a culture jam sorta deal. oh well.

no sweat has 'em, if you're interested.

fish, meet barrel

i don't get all the flack around this ahmadinejad dude.

y'all know what kind of ship he runs. so what was the point? to parade him around and give the nation a feel-good, moral superiority moment? or was it just a fair debate gone wrong?

[Columbia President Lee] Bollinger was strongly criticized for inviting Ahmadinejad to speak at Columbia. The Iranian president was in New York in advance of his address to the U.N. General Assembly on Tuesday.

Bollinger had promised tough questions in his introduction to Ahmadinejad’s talk. But the strident and personal nature of his attack on the president of Iran was startling.

Bollinger described Ahmadinejad as having a "fanatical mindset" for making statements like wanting Israel to be “wiped off the map.”

"Do you plan on wiping us off the map too?" Bollinger asked, also asking questions about allegations Iran was supplying insurgents in Iraq. "Can you tell them and us why Iran is fighting a proxy war in Iraq?"

Ahmadinejad responded to boos and cheers that Iran is a "peace-loving nation."

"We love all nations. We are friends with the Jewish people," he said.

Ahmadinejad did not address all of Bollinger’s accusations directly, instead launching into a long religious discussion laced with quotes with the Quran before turning to criticism of the Bush administration and past American governments.

so, ok.

ahmadinejad denying the holocaust = wrong. (but not surprising)

"we don't have homosexuals" = hilarious. (but, again, not surprising)

asking what the horrors of the holocaust had "to do with the [treatment of the] Palestinian people?” = on point.

then this assh--i mean, our commander in chief--has the nerve to say that, "Ahmadinejad’s appearance at Columbia 'speaks volumes about really the greatness of America.'"

not really.

it just makes us look like bullies. again.

way to go.

amen, brotha. amen.

That's Not In My Job Description
by Paul Beatty

despite that i overslept
and set a guinness book world record for coming in late
its still time for me to take my 15 minute break

pull off my sweater vest
talking shit

cross my sneakers on the desk
threaten to call my union rep
if these fools

dont stop lookin at me crazy
whisperin lazy
under their breath

but during my siesta
i eavesdrop on societys best

imagine im a distinguished ethnographer

on the black pbs
talkin with a british lisp
in front of a bookshelf

welcome to alistair cooke's In Search of
today we pursue The Elusive True Nature of Whitey

notice as
our cameras
zoom in on

a pinstriped pack of business school well groomed brooks brother
smoothies
encamped around a water cooler jostling for room in their natural
habitat
wiping dunkin donut crumbs off their jackets and engaged in debates
on hot topics
such as:

nuclear waste the china syndrome
alternative methods of heating their homes

and right before

the herd starts to roam

the menfolk take part in the ritual
shooting of the styrofoam cups into the trash basket

and if they make it
they dance around like
they just saved the world

headin my way
lookin for some dap

so i try to look busy
which im good at

start rustlin charts
construct some new paper clip art
chew on a pen cap as if im seriously studying my messenger map

hmmmm did you know that main street runs perpendicular to beech
and parallel with elm for exactly 1 and seven/eighteenths of
a mile
before it intersects with west crest
well blow me down

i aint got time to mope
worryin aloud about
how imma cope wid radioactive isotopes and mushroom clouds

when its me myself

thats about to explode

an overloaded low level gung-ho ah-so nigro rickshaw coolie
the company dr. doolittles thought they knew me
i talk the animals como se llama push–me–pull–me

bowin n kowtowin
eatin crow
holdin my tongue
hands clung so tightly to the bottom rung
cant even reach for the glass ceiling

my feet planted in corporate dung
growing roots
in the ground zero
terra firma
of affirmative
daily inaction

copy xerox mop remember the blue ones go on top
shred fedex the checks press the red button next
fax wax collapse the green mail sacks go to jack

right after i put my year-end evaluation
in the management trainee mailbox

one of them fresh out of college cookie cutter fuckers
invites me to meet the buddies for drinks at mcgillicuddy's

i only wanted a nine to five
that classified didnt say nothin bout havin to socialize

now this wage slave
is t-minus nine heinekens from critical mass

me and a few hoogie white democrats
drinking after work rolling rocks
smoking marlboros out of the box

all you can do is wait for the chain reaction show of ass

when one of em
looks me in the eye
and decides
to say something to the colored guy

its
all systems go
the white folks start actin like they know

hey bro er uh bro-ham
i happen to be a big rap fan
went to see ice cube and michel'le
at the hollywood palladium
and i was the only white person in the place
aint i soul brother

there must have been another workshop on how to handle your
support staff
which in this craft is a euphemism for niggers n spics

itsa trip
watching a one-sided will to unite

if i could get in a word edgewise i wouldnt
since im with my boss
and dont want to get fired
all i can do is sigh
too chicken to pay the price

as they get excited
giddy from overexercising their rights

my dad owns a liquor store in the inner city so i know how you feel

ive read toni morrisons beloved twice
and even though i still didnt get it the second time shes just so real

i believe that spike is truly five for five
no no you dont understand i really want to be like mike

or maybe a harlem globetrotter
its my dream to send my daughter to spelman
where can she get a check up for sickle cell
whats the name of your hair gel/pomade
do you use a depilatory when you shave
how can i join the crips
just what is hip
i know its after the fact but i dont think king shouldve called for calm
i wanna be a minister in the nation of islam
isnt so and so such an uncle tom

when theyre through
they pat themselves on the back
and quote jesse jackson

we have to start on the front end of head start and day care
not on the back end of prison and welfare

keepin hope alive
i buy the next round

wonderin how it would sound if i changed my name to skip
placed a mike tyson kingsized if i ruled the world chip on my shoulder
went to a joint full of rednecks
put my elbows on the bar cleared my throat and said

becks
then id go into my show

did you know i was elected to the senate inna landslide
and i was the only colored man there without rag in my hand for
polishin brass or shining shoes

or

at last weeks tractor pull i was the only spear chukker
drivin monster pick-ups over a bunch of crushed oldsmobiles

or

i sailed in the americas cup

or

i went to the university of vermont and rowed crew

or

i grew up in a two room shack in the appalachian mountains picked
myself up
by the shitkickers went door to door selling berlitz and scripture
moved to
utah sang soprano in the mormon tabernacle choir married into the
osmonds
and now i spend my weekends smokin pot with donnie and marie
reading back
issues of teen beat magazine

or

im included in the canon
im a cardinal in the vatican
im the highest paid player on the boston red sox
i own IBM stock
i play nazi punk rock
i drink coors extra gold by the case
i can say puke with a straight face
i have a seat on wall street
im an LL bean catalogue model
my art is in the metropolitan
i had a major part in a woody allen movie
and i do the broadway casting for tommy tune

but i wouldn't give a shit about nuna dis
if i could just say im a nigger who has enough room

(from AGNI 37 & 56)

Paul Beatty was born in Los Angeles and now lives in New York. (1993)

quick hello...

i haven't had much to say lately...probably because i'm beginning to stabilize.

feeling prayerful again.

getting back into the job search (got a call today, actually...yay!)

moon time's on its way, but i'm not too daunted by it.

believe me, guys, sometimes it's a good thing when i'm quiet. *smile*

hope you're feeling bountiful and blessed this evening...

peace

sara tavares, indigo toenails & other random thoughts

this sista is providing the soundtrack to my life right now. of course i don't understand everything she's saying, but "balance" is all i needed to hear...

i am once again embraced by my two great loves. both at a distance, but still strangely satisfying. it feels like the right place to be. each of them brings a different energy, and i'm in need of both versions of heaven to make it through this particular period.

buzzwords: sexuality, inspiration, laughter, growth...

the job hunt will need to commence again soon. i'm nervous about continuing into next month's retrograde, but i'm going to have to jump in anyway.

there are words forming, but the ideas are coagulating instead of flowing. as usual, i'm at a bit of a loss when it comes to how i should get that going...

i thought i'd be able to come in this evening and pray with renewed fervor, but an unexpected babysitting bout nixed that plan. i'm learning that it's better for me to stay quiet until i have my intentions fully and firmly evolved, because what i ask for, i get.

because of the difficulties that have come with this summer, i'm welcoming fall more than usual. but feeling the air cool down and watching the leaves change color always saddens me. even if it's just a little bit.

adupe, yemonja

i had forgotten how beautiful the ocean is.

the waves, the sand...the joy of effortlessly discovering beautiful seashells with each step.

the sense of homecoming...

i'm beginning to feel--literally & figuratively--like i can breathe again.

the quest for equilibrium

i went to yoga last night.
it was a struggle, but i'm glad i went.

it was a hot class, which usually makes everything a little easier. not this time.

nearly every posture--even the ones i've always found simple--was a trial. to some degree i was uncomfortable almost the entire time--nausea, a sense of heavy awkwardness, close to tears. i couldn't even stay still in savasana during the guided meditation.

the instructor, bless her, came over and straightened me out a couple of times. until she touched me, i had no idea all the tension i was holding in my waist/pelvic area--probably a manifestation of the recent boundary struggles.

strength postures like full plank made my shoulders ache, and downward dog didn't seem to stretch much of anything.

my sinuses have been blocked since late last night, and i've been expelling some interesting things--hopefully signs that the nonsense (as i've been calling it) is on its way out.

tonight, come hell or high water, i'm getting a neti pot.

this weekend, i'll have the opportunity to have a nice chat with yemonja. if there is a lesson in this madness her waters aren't meant to wash away, may she at least grant me the clarity to figure out where i'm going and how to get there. ashe.

cycles

lately, if i'm not emotionally fked up, i'm physically fked up.

one day i'm totally feelin myself, hitting my stride...

the next i'm either worn out, fed up, sick, or just plain tired.

balance is elusive.

prayer feels ineffective. i don't know what to say. i can be mindful of my gratitude, but is that enough?

i'm missing something...

and i can't put my finger on it.

sistas (hopefully not) doin it (just) for themselves

ok, baltimore.

we've got three sistas in city hall. i know at least two of them are mothers.

this could be some historic shit, or same old same old.

let's see what happens...

say wha?

first the jena 6 now this?

looks like the south is still out of its natural mind...

CHARLESTON, W.Va. - Authorities said Tuesday they are considering hate crime charges in the case of a woman who was tortured while being held captive for at least a week, and they are investigating the possibility that she was lured by a man she met on the Internet.

The victim was repeatedly called a racial slur while her captors sexually abused, beat and stabbed her, her mother said.

Six people, all white, including a mother and son and a mother and daughter, were arrested in connection with the alleged abduction of the 20-year-old black woman.

ugh.

but u know what? abner and amadou happened in new york, so...

may the ancestors of our foremothers who endured similar tortures rush to her aid and plead god for justice on behalf of this sista and her family. ashe.

what's your god paying you?

going over to rootsblog guarantees an enlightening experience. this piece inspired me to respond as follows:

hm.

i wonder how much of that "better life" is coming from outside africa (e.g., u.s. and arab financed faith-based groups).

i wonder why so many born in the diaspora are discovering, as you put it, "a good life, one full of meaning and significance, one of power over self and adversity" in african spirituality.

it seems to me that christianity/islam works for the continental folks because they need the material comforts, while we're called TO them because we're more in need of the (in my opinion more fully developed and collectively compatible) spiritual edification.

i could go on for days on that notion of "breaking curses" and such, but i think i'll link this post on my blog and do a follow-up there.

i know that yoruba culture has been in existence for at least 10,000 years.

prior to that, the civilizations and spiritual systems of kush and nubia gave way to the rise of kemet, which has influenced the rest of black africa and the world ever since.

it is now scientifically accepted that all life came out of africa, so it makes sense that our collective unconscious was born there as well. while there have always been nominal variations due to region, culture, and language, our ancestral traditions have formed the archetypes found throughout humanity.

i defend orisa and the other african systems not solely because of my personal investment, but because of the flow of history and time.

our way is the original way.

if it weren't for the kemetian mystery schools, we wouldn't have the bible. arabic culture, too, was goddess/god-balanced long before muhammad came on the scene.

despite that, we now have millions of people afraid of anything that doesn't fall between the covers of two largely plagiarized books, despite the long and deep history of humanity preceding these things.

so, as far as "breaking curses and covenants" as dr. ukpai so eloquently put it, let me share a basic fact of physics--in my opinion the most spiritual scientific discipline there is:

energy is never destroyed, it only changes form.

human beings are, in essence, energy, just like everything else. those ancestral artifacts and sacred sites people are destroying have nothing to do with curses and everything to do with respecting what came before, what allowed them be. i shudder to think what will happen to their children, communal self esteem, and spiritual and moral centers in the coming generations.

i'm aware that capitalism, colonization, and global economies have changed everything. hence, christianity and islam become attractive for the same reasons they were attractive during the initial invasions: survival.

people have to eat. i'm sure that the christian/islamic communities around the world will support these people materially, and that's fine, far as it goes. maybe we'll see a shift when traditionalist communities here are capable of providing a comparable level of financial assistance.

it is also unfortunate that traditional beliefs can be coupled with a crippling lack of education and other equally desperate situations, leading to modern day witch hunts and other tragedies.

i pray that there are some who are savvy enough to syncretize and pass along at least a bit of knowledge (props to catholicism for keeping just enough paganism to make it simple...).

despite the disappointment i feel around these issues, i am convinced that the universe does nothing by accident or coincidence.

maybe the americas are meant to become the epicenter for the african deities because of the access to education and the fulfillment of basic needs.

a place where age-old botanical knowledge can be incorporated into doctor's offices.

where african cosmology can be combined with western astronomy and physics, leading to a greater understanding of our world.

where the hoodoo way can be learned in conjunction with the history and culture of our people so that we are not worried about hunting down witches, but focused on casting spells (i.e., social programs, books, media, curricula) that will strengthen and uplift our people and the world.

i hope i'm not too optimistic.

dreams...

i was in a haitian peristyle...very simply built with beige walls made of clay or stone --almost like an adobe.

in one almost bare room there was a mambo dancing, veves and candles all over the floor. the doorway to the room seemed to be shielded, so i never went all the way in and she never came out.

the first time i walked by, she was mounted by a spirit i didn't recognize. i greeted him/her and went on my way.

the next time i walked by, she was maman brigitte. her clothes reminded me of oya as st. theresa.

traditionally, oya is a wife of sango, the wind in the storm. she is the orisa who takes the breath of life back to olodumare and accepts deathbed prayers along with petitions to the ancestors. it's probably safe to say that oya and maman brigitte are essentially the same spirit that has gained different monikers and visages--not to mention a somewhat split personality--during her years in the diaspora.

anyway, i kept going between the shrine room and a bathroom that housed a tub filled with water and all kinds of herbs. it seemed that my goal was to take a bath, but i had to keep checking the water to see if it was ready. whenever i inspected it, this or that herb was needed...so i never actually stepped in the water, but instead wound up going back and forth, gathering herbs.

it was one of those dreams where i felt i was being taught some kind of ritual or recipe that is always maddeningly difficult or impossible to recall upon waking.

...but, i said i wanted to travel. so i suppose my wish was granted.

gangland african survivals

...one day i'm gonna get my thoughts together and post something about how these gang signs i keep seeing look a whole lot like veves.

i copied down something one afternoon on the bus ride home from work. it's in an old journal. i'll have to find it and scan it so i can post with the entry...

this will be revisited.

loving gratitude

i highly recommend falling in love with yourself. often.

i'd forgotten the power inherent in committing to the pursuance of one's own bliss. seems like mama gena's teachings are settling in and catching up with me.

making a conscious, prayerful decision to release any and all thoughts/actions/situations that are impeding my progress is one of the best things i've ever done for myself.

i don't pretend to be finished--it's a process full of maintenance sessions, backslides, and conscientious review. even so, i've gained a tremendous amount of momentum, and i can see and feel it working in my life.

in that spirit, today i am grateful for...

the lessons of the universe
love
prayers & the surety that they will be answered
clarity
ikea!
womanhood
wonder
mindfulness
car warranties
strength
incense, candles, essential oils, and crystals & the work they help us do
abundance
the entire color spectrum
peace
good food
understanding

randomization

it's amazing what a few days off from work can do for my intellect...kinda sucks that it has to be that way, tho.

this is really sad. and i didn't realize amy's only 23 years old--but it does explain some of her tendencies. i get the feeling she hasn't quite grown fully into herself yet. even so, i'd hate to see all that talent go to waste over low self esteem and addiction. get well soon, amy.

i was both annoyed and relieved that a sensor caused all the trouble with my car. but i am infinitely thankful for good warranties & ogun's ashe.

i need to get my money right before i miss out on this trend...

...this might change/grow/shrink as the day goes on...

a little piece of the universe...

due to the continuing antics of my automobile, i wound up implementing phase one of the goddesspace today. it turned out pretty well, and the process removed my frustration and disappointment over being, essentially, grounded.

an overall view:



in the lower right corner is a serendipitous wax blob from a white candle i used for guidance...i wanna write a mantra or something on it.

sweet wine in the glass--for celebration's sake.

detail of the candles and crystals:



there's plenty more to do, but i'm really, really pleased with the first stage.

i'm discovering that i enjoy the process of manifesting sacred space. i love the way it inevitably grows, shrinks and morphs according to my prayers, needs and desires.

intentions:
*to affirm my relationship with the divine feminine and the elements--in other words, unapologetic womanspace.

*to further enhance and empower my dreaming, intuition, and other spiritual skills as a complement to my official training.

*to gain increased clarity around my life's work and purpose using the power inherent in my womb/femininity.

*to provide a home for full moon prayers and menstrual meditations.

declaration

note: this was originally posted to a blog i write about a particular person surrounding a particular situation. it's public (in the hopes of someone stumbling across it and learning that yes, virginia, there is life after soulmates), but not really linked to anything else.

i felt it best to, as far as possible, separate that healing from the rest of my existence. at its inception, i even removed some entries from this blog to place there.

but when i wrote this today, it seemed imperative that i blur the barriers a bit. it even applies, to a somewhat lesser degree, to this situation.

you might need to read this.
you might want to have someone else read it.

in whatever way you need to,
from whatever situation you need to,
if there's something clipping your wings--
even if that something is something you love, dearly,

free yourself.

peace.

* ~~ * ~~ * ~~

a long time ago, you stopped looking into my eyes.
said you couldn't stand it...

but when you ceased to look at me, to see me, it obviously became too easy for you to think i no longer loved you.

i'm sorry you've had to learn the hard way that i never stopped, that my love for you has remained as deep and fluid as ever.

the difference is that i have reined it in. there are many things i'll still do for you, but only on my terms and in my way. i will not let you dictate the whens, wheres, and hows--directly or indirectly.

my limitations are my own, and if i choose to love you one moment and ignore you in another, i will.

you have tortured yourself into this corner, and you will have to get yourself out.

...but i'll still love you when you come out on the other side.

goddess garden (pt. 2)

i'm going to have to start setting up the goddesspace in my bedroom. i started buying things weeks ago, but my house (and, subsequently, my garden) could be at least a year in coming.

she was right after all...i can't bear to have what i've gathered so far hidden away in bags until then.

ikea has plenty of cheap candle holders, shelves & plant stands to start me off.

we have a nice xtian/catholic store where i should be able to get some saint statues and/or images.

i might have to go online for the hindu ones (kali, maybe shakti). it should be easy to find something with quan yin...

i'll also need something serpentine, plus images of the various ancestresses: frida kahlo, saartjie, audre lorde, etc.

and stones: rose and clear quartz. moonstone. mother of pearl...

i can't wait to get started...

runnin across my mind...

i gotta break this one up into pieces...

I
you really need to read this woman's blog, discovered thanks to the illustrious goddess glory. wait til you're @ home...darkdaughta isn't erotic, but there is quite a bit of nudity, both in the background art and her birthing stories.

to deprogram the way she's done and to seek to give her children the same gift from birth onwards is nothing short of miraculous. she gets serious props from me. if we don't wise up and the fall comes (heaven forfend), kids like hers are the ones who'll survive & lead the revolution.


II
speaking of birthing stories, the intense, nearly bone-deep desire to experience pregnancy, birth, and motherhood has returned. it could be a manifestation of the other changes i'm trying to create and work through...but again, it's not merely mental.

considering the current state of my relationship, i don't know when or how my baby will manifest his/herself. but i have prayed that the event be inundated with bliss from beginning to end. when those conditions can be met, i'm sure i'll find myself in a family way, as the ancestors used to say.

III
i'm also aware of the 10 things this morning...after a few days of discomfort and aggravation, i'm enjoying myself again.

IV
another plug: check out fatman scoop & shanda, if you haven't already. they're hilarious. and a wonderfully loving couple, if i do say so myself. i'll bet that in 30 yrs, they're gonna be the grandparents makin everybody grin with envy 'cause he's still chasin her around the kitchen like they just met.

b*tch on wheels

i don't know if it's the boredom...

the mutiny of my yoni (thanks, amoxicillin! ugh) & subsequent lack of opportunities to achieve an orgasm derived from intense clitoral stimulation...

the slight, nagging hunger that i can't seem to satisfy because i can't figure out what i'm craving...

or what,

but i don't feel like the bullshit today. i am suffering no fools. i damn sure don't feel like organizing anyone's life outside my own, and i really don't feel like babysitting a bunch of grown ass people.

but payday's tomorrow. then a four day weekend.

that will probably help me resist the urge to lop off some heads.

...oh, and how about this nonsense: i went to the store this morning for some hygiene products. selection was limited, and they didn't have my favorite (always), so i got the thin kotex...no wings, but better than the archaic, 2" thick always pads with wings that they did have. no biggie.

why was is the new and improved! feature a "quieter" individual package?

i'm in the ladies' room. why should i give a rat's ass if the other ladies--all of whom know what's up--know that i'm opening a tampon/pad/whatever??!?!?

this is vaguely equivalent to older female cashiers who still give me a paper bag and two plastic ones or some variation thereof when i go to target...



like that. ugh.

i LOVE this cartoon...

married to the sea

shakti

i've realized that my creativity has not abandoned me, it's been invested in recreating my reality.

my list of needs and wants is a mile long, but i'm also accomplishing goals and setting new ones in record time.

i find myself praying, manifesting, and readjusting almost constantly. my dreams are overflowing with guidance and support.

still, it's been awkward adjusting to the feeling of "missing" my writing; i'm used to leaning on a pen and pad for support.

yes, blogging is writing--but different. i miss the poems, stories, the choreographed wordplay that used to dance effortlessly across my mind.

blogging is more of a release of nervous energy or filing system--a tool that helps me track my progress, tuck away distracting thoughts, converse with folks and spark discussion.

on the other hand, i am grateful that my creative energy understands the necessity of metamorphosis depending on my needs.

right now i don't need to write as much as i need to move, visualize, and mold.

today i am grateful for the gifts granted by evolution.

decisions, decisions

eh.

i got up later than i was supposed to,
it feels like a louisiana swamp out there,

and all i wanna do is slap on the sundress i got for like $7 (after a target giftcard) that i haven't gotten to wear ALL summer and roam around outside...

maybe sit long enough somewhere surrounded by enough grass and trees to get the urge to scribble something meaningful...

but i'm supposed to go get the car checked out. not like i got the money to fix whatever's wrong with it, but...i have a thing about driving around with the car making "a strange noise".

i can still wear the sundress...

and can somebody please buy me a plane ticket so i can go to bembe? thanks.

sanctified & suffering?

i wonder, how long this had been going on? wouldn't be surprised if that's what broke them up in the first place...

this is all i could find from an essence article on the subject of domestic violence in the christian church.

i'll also never forget the story of a woman on the tyra show who had half her face bashed in by her ex husband only for her mother to tell her not to call the cops 'cause it wasn't the "christian" thing to do...

now, with all due respect to the faith of others, how is it that you're so caught up in the interpretation of a book based on the ruminations of a patriarchal, supremacist culture developing in the midst of a goddess-worshipping, largely matriarchal ancient world, that you sacrifice your love of self and your body and mind over the notion of being "submissive"?

...not to say that this kind of abuse isn't rampant in more "conscious", afrocentric circles, because it certainly can be. afrikan men, continental and diasporan, have been thoroughly indoctrinated by western patriarchal/male dominated culture. many have taken steps to deprogram themselves. others hide their misogyny behind flowery words and spiritual-sounding phrases. and, unfortunately, plenty of sistas eat it up.

but i'll bet you a headwrap and a cowry shell that if you take the situation to the more afrikan-centered elders vs. some christian ones, you'll hear the rote "stand by your man" speech a lot less often.

please, please, please...read something about the world before christianity. not to remove yourself from the nature of the god of your understanding, but just to know that there's a whole side of the spirit you probably never got wind of sitting in those pews.

addendum 9/7/2007: here's an update...

i guess i'm it....

she tagged me...

*What side of the heart do you draw first?
the right

*Can you dive without plugging your nose?
yeah...just exhale when you hit the water.

*What color is your phone?
gray (@ work)

*Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours?
eh...i don't think i have an answer

*Where are you right now?
desk @ work

*How do you feel about carrots?
good only when finely shredded in salads, steamed for chinese food, or in soup. i can tolerate fresh carrot juice, but only w/ apple and ginger.

*How many chairs at the dining room table?
don't have one

*Who is the best Spice Girl?
n/a

*Do you know what time it is?
hammer time! (i know, i'm sorry)

*What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator?
stay calm.

*What’s your favorite kind of gum?
orbit peppermint. original will do, too

*T or F: All is fair in love and war?
love, essentially. war, no.

*Do you use words that you don’t know the meaning to?
i try not to...i look 'em up to be sure.

*Do you like to sleep?
it serves its purpose...

*Do you know which US states don’t use Daylight Savings?
wow...um...no. that's one useless fact that hasn't stuck to my brain yet, thank u

*Do you know the song Sugar We’re Goin’ Down?
say wha?

*Do you want a bright yellow ‘06 mustang?
no

*What’s something you’ve always wanted?
enough money (or influence, reason, etc) to be able to travel anywhere, at any time

*Do you wear a lot of black?
not quite as much as i used to

*Are you an adult?
ya damn right i am. but why is this a question? lol

*Who is/are your best friends?
terri

*Do you have a tan?
it's kind of a permanent one, but i do get a little more golden in the summer...

*Are you a television addict?
no

*Do you enjoy spending time with your mom?
yeah

*Are you a sugar freak?
gives me headaches

*What is your favorite movie?
too many to name

*What’s your sign?
pisces

*Where do you wish you were right now?
somewhere like fiji...tropical paradise, enjoying the ocean

*Who did you copy this from?
tre

*How do you know them?
from okayplayer

*Would you have sex with them?
no, but sheesh.

*What brand of shirt are you wearing?
something in organic cotton done by a graf artist i "met" on myspace. lol.

*Have you ever smoked anything?
sure

i'll get one a y'all shortly...dunno who yet...

frightening.

i still maintain that anyone who is vehemently anti-abortion and is not a foster parent or planning to be one has some explaining to do. because, considering the sad state of the american foster care system, folk seem to care an awful lot about the fetus, and not so much about the babies once they get here.

but this is some shit here.

hermit

for the last few years, i feel like my social life has been rather stunted.

i don't go out like i used to.

i've all but given up on the possibility of being some kind of (known) poet or spoken word artist.

i haven't developed some kind of agoraphobia or anything, but i have shut myself in.

maybe this is for reasons i don't yet understand.

but i'm learning to accept my hermitism. i still go out with friends and family, but i have also noticed that my apartment has become a sort of cocoon.

i'm certain that i'll emerge when i'm ready.

tell 'em why you mad...

there are not many times in my life when my anger has been this palatable. i can almost feel it on the tip of my tongue each time i speak.

the years i loved, struggled, held on, fought...

i want to scream for putting up with it all for as long as i did.

ultimately, i know i stayed out of love, but in hindsight, nothing seems to justify the waiting.

besides, it's pointless to fuss over the past. what's happened has happened for a reason, just like i was able to let go at this moment for a reason. everything happens in its due time, and this is no different.

new loves will come, we will both heal. in the meantime, there's work to do.

the anger is simply motivation to move ahead.

rent a rasta / hurricane troubles

this is deep.




in addition, hurricane dean is about 150 miles outside kingston, right now. and he's got haiti on the tail end. several other islands have already been hit. and some broad named erin is wrecking shop in oklahoma and texas.

oya, hekua yansa, we know that what you destroy makes room for rebirth, but we pray that you keep as many human lives and vital crops and animals as possible out of harm's way as you do your work.

ashe-o.

to all those wanting what i cannot give

if you could have, we would have.

if it was meant, it would be.

if we never did, it's because we weren't supposed to.

your epiphanies are always a day late and a dollar short. rent's far past due.

i'm sorry i'm not the dream you made me out to be.

your understanding costs me boxes of kleenex, lonely nights, and a whole lot of heartache.

talking to you about us makes me so angry i could spit. that's where the tears come from. not from pain, but from frustration.

i have nothing left to give. and if you could truly understand that, you wouldn't call me cold.

i am not heartless, i am not ruthless, and i am not unfeeling.

i love with everything i have because i am fearless.

but if you wear out your welcome, i will turn your castles to dust. i also will not hesitate to remove myself from a sinking ship.

i am willing to give the right man the moon that falls from my mouth. if you have not received it, it means you are not him.

i will admit to having played the role of sassafrass, but this is her farewell performance.*

henceforth, only men need apply.

if you have not had your heart shattered at least once and survived,
if you do not know yourself,
if your insecurities haunt you,
if you do not mean what you say and say what you mean,

i am not the woman for you.


*sassafrass was the sister who, determined to do everything in her power to heal a broken man, almost blocked her own blessings. her lesson? incomplete love ain't no love at all.