recognize.

the universe starts by tossing a pebble or two at your window.
if you don't hear it, it might toss a brick & break the glass.
if that's not enough, you might find yourself up against a brick wall.

if you decide to just sit up against that wall and linger, it just might fall on you.

but it won't kill you.

it doesn't take much to hear god speaking. it doesn't have to be dogmatic or specific to any text. it doesn't have to be loud and proud like a multimillion dollar lottery prize.

it could be coming through your dreams.
your arguments with your mate.
the breeze that woke you up this morning.
or the butterfly lighting on your windowsill.

don't make the universe slam a brick wall down on you.
learn how to hear the pebbles.

fela anikulapo kuti

it was brought to my attention that we lost fela 9 years ago today.

if you don't already, you should really know about him.

wikipedia

african music.org

in case you don't feel like reading, you can just pick up a few of his cds and learn about him that way. the new one-disc/double album sets are a great way to build your collection without killing your wallet. (hint: if you're looking for "water no get enemy", it's on the expensive shit / he miss road disc)

an excuse to buy music. what more do you need?

viva la revolucion

i'm sure we won't know for some time just how bad things are for fidel (if that link asks for a log-in, click here instead). but any way you look at it, this is big.

i can understand cuban-americans and cubans themselves wanting a better standard of living. but i don't wanna see havana become "mini vegas" again. or even see a starbucks on every corner.

i fear these exiles--as they're called--don't understand the advantages to not being america's bitch. they've been softened by our glitter and gold.

of course, all i know is what i've read. given the opportunity, cuba is one of many places i would have liked to travel, but it's been difficult to get to the west coast, let alone the forbidden fruit just a few miles south of the good ol us of a.

at any rate, i know cuba has a higher literacy rate than we do, that their ppl have indiscriminate access (slow or no) to healthcare, and that while the ppl may be poor, they haven't seen fit to overthrow fidel or support u.s. efforts to do so in a way that's made our government successful. they also haven't seen fit to extradite assata shakur.

i wasn't alive to see haiti free herself in the midst of slavery. i was born a full decade or more after india, the nations of africa, and other third world countries gained their independence. not to mention missing the turmoil and black power surge of the 60s and early 70s.

seeing little cuba hold up in the face of uncle sam's bullying long after the cold war was frozen and buried is the only revolutionary example i have from my lifetime (cesar chavez & 'nem notwithstanding).

so, instead of wishing for his demise--yes, i heard a few folks on tv doing just that this morning--i'm going to pray that the cuban people maintain the good points and the spirit of the revolution while allowing for the basic freedoms and human rights we all deserve. i pray they stand fast and refuse to undo fidel's work for the promise of a ham in every oven & a buick in every driveway.

'cause in a generation or so, they may find that the price was far too high.

viva la revolucion.

(read more here)

one step closer...

i went to the guy who did my lotus last night & asked him about my new tattoo…

i’ve been bouncing around a lot of ideas, but i’ve settled on a snake/serpent with its tail in a spiral, possibly creeping up my shoulder. this takes care of the goddess, creativity, rebirth, and wisdom motifs all at once.

i made sure to tell him i didn’t want any striking cobras or something spouting blood and weaving its way out of my arm. i’m aiming for something like the little garter snake i’ve added here. feminine & slinky.

it’s gonna cost me a little more than i’d like (of course size, placement, etc haven’t been etched in stone…only that i want it in blk & grey, no color.), but i don’t mind. he’s a great artist & not hard to spend a couple of hours with.

to any first timers out there: you get what you pay for. unless you’re dealing w/ a friend you trust, bargain shopping for ink is NOT the move.

See more progress on: get another tattoo

replace "piercings" with "tattoos"

...and i could be writing this to my mother.

What I wish I could tell my parents

Piercing is something that my parents and I have had many fights about and is one of the few things that actually come between us. Now while you might be saying to yourself, "Why is this 20 year old guy worried about what his parents think?" And my answer to you would be that I care a lot, first of all they still support me while I am going to school, and secondly, they are my parents and we get along really well, accept for this.
I have only a few piercings: my lobes, an industrial, my tragus, and my tongue, as well as a few that have retired but they would have never seen anyway. Now this is the problem, they already think I look like a freak and that I could never get a respectable job, and I feel that I am not yet the way I want to be, and this is where it gets interesting.

What I would like to say...

Why do I get pierced? Not because it looks cool or because it is a fad. I get pierced because it means something to me far beyond what any sort of fashion or, material possession ever could. To me being pierced is an experience that connects me with m mortality and is a way to physically manifest some of the pain that we all experience in everyday life, but detach ourselves from. Piercing is a challenge that each time you overcome, it makes you stronger. So, no I do not get pierced because I am rebelling, or because it is a fad, or because I think it will make me fit in, I get pierced because I would like to feel more like me and know myself more. I want to know my limits, my boundaries, my abilities, and then I want to push them to the next level.

Piercing is also a mark for people with a certain mindset. It is not some ritual, cult of death, but it is a cultural symbol, and this is the culture that I want to be associated with. Not to fit in, but to show them who I am, and then be accepted by like-minded individuals, people who I can relate to.

Why do I pierce? Yes, I have taken up piercing, myself and others, and I am actively trying to make a profession of it. (Any Piercing Artists in Long Beach / LA area want to take on an apprentice?) I do this because of my love for piercing. I think it is not only something that everyone who wants to should have access to, but I think it is something that everyone should experience at least once in their lives. As Tyler Durden said, "How much can you know about yourself if you've never been a fight?" I ask, "How much can you know about yourself if you have never been pierced?" I think that inflicting this amount of pain on yourself for something inconsequential, is a major event that can happen in a persons life. It is giving up your fear of pain and everything we as modern people do to escape and numb pain, in essence, this is giving up just one of the many things that control your life, and taking it back for yourself. So I back to the question: Why do I pierce? Because I w ant to share this thing that I love with the world, and I also want to meet people who appreciate it like I do. Because it is through people who appreciate the same things that we appreciate, that we can grow, and expand our horizons.

And as for this whole "respectable job" thing. Perhaps I don't want a "respectable job" perhaps I plan on doing something different, and actually enjoying what I do for a living and the environment in which I work. Perhaps to me it isn't so much about the money, but the happiness and the my relationships with the people that I care about. Besides there are many other things that I could be doing to "explore". Like drugs, or shagging every girl I meet, or becoming an urban camper. But what I choose to explore in this world are my relationships with people, my understanding of myself, and what I can create to make my mark. Essentially, this means that, all I have are my friends, my self, and my art. So be a little more open minded, there's always more than one way to do it, to live life, let me choose my own path, and rather than push me down yours, support me on mine. There's a big world beyond your front door, and rather than pushing out those who bring it in, you could try to go out into it, explore it, and explore yourself.

this is a test

...of the emergency morality system.

this is a chance to stop and think.

just like 9/11 was for us.

is israel as determined to fail that test as we were?

i only pray that the babies caught in this crossfire find some way to grow up with the wisdom and compassion not to demand an eye for an eye. that they understand that the cycle must end somewhere, with someone.

cliffs notes

if you're looking for a quick & dirty version re: what could happen with this israel/lebanon thing, see this.

and since when is diplomacy standing behind your buddies at all costs and offering the other side jackshit? from truthout:

American officials are very good at vernacular descriptions, but lousy at history and political reality in the Middle East. As U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice sets off Sunday on her short trip to a Middle East that is increasingly engulfed in violent confrontations and political turmoil, she has described the massive destruction, dislocation and human suffering in Lebanon as an inevitable part of the "birth pangs of a new Middle East".

From my perspective here in Beirut, watching American-supplied Israeli jets smash this country to smithereens, what she describes as "birth pangs" look much more like a wicked hangover from a decades-old American orgy of diplomatic intoxication with the enticements of pro-Israeli politics...

Short term, the United States would like Israel to wipe out Hizbullah, allow the Lebanese government to send its troops to the south of the country, ensure the safety of northern Israel, cut Syria's influence down to size, and apply greater pressure on Hizbullah-supporter Iran. The United States opposes a ceasefire, therefore, because, Rice says, "A ceasefire would be a false promise if it simply returns us to the status quo."

This diplomatic position to support Israel's attacks on Lebanon, coupled with rushing sophisticated precision bombs to Israel from the U.S. arsenal, indicates that Washington seriously aims to fundamentally redraw the political and ideological map of the Middle East in the longer term. If this means yet another Arab land goes up in flames and war, so be it, Washington seems to be saying...

Washington is engaged almost exclusively with Arab governments whose influence with Syria is virtually nonexistent, whose credibility with Arab public opinion is zero, whose own legitimacy at home is increasingly challenged, and whose pro-U.S. policies tend to promote the growth of those militant Islamist movements that now lead the battle against American and Israeli policies. Is Rice traveling to a new Middle East, or to a diplomatic Disneyland of her own imagination?

because i'm too lazy to write at the moment...

toothpaste for dinner!

quarter life crisis (myspace blog)

part I

part II

i wanna give a shout out to israel...

...and anyone else determined to make the middle east into an inhabitable wasteland

tina turner
"we don't need another hero (thunderdome)"

Out of the ruins
Out from the wreckage
Can't make the same mistake this time
We are the children
the last generation
We are the ones they left behind
And I wonder when we are ever gonna change it
Living under the fear till nothing else remains

We don't need another hero
We don't need to know the way home
All we want is life beyond the thunderdome

Looking for something we can rely on
There's got to be something better out there
Love and compassion, their day is coming
All else are castles built in the air
And I wonder when we are ever gonna change it
Living under the fear till nothing else remains
All the children say

We don't need another hero
We don't need to know the way home
All we want is life beyond the thunderdome

So, what do we do with our lives
We leave only a mark
Will our story shine like a light
Or end in the dark
Give it all or nothing

chicken little?

this bothers me.

not so much for the reasons he stated, but basically because we, as the only "superpower" on the planet, don't have the kinds of people in place who could truly aid in alleviating these tensions. the diplomatic and moral clout that might have allowed us that chance and that privilege is all but wasted.

we gave the gun to the baby. and he took it to school. now he's shooting anything that moves 'cause it's just a game to him.

as i said in my comment to the blog entry, i don't worry too much about nuclear strikes. i think we're all aware enough to understand that (a) we're all on the same rock and (b) if the world starts to look like mad max, we ALL lose, no matter who's on top for the first few years after the initial attack.

but i do fear accidents.

god help us all.

stalemate

we're speaking different languages...

words i thought i understood have totally different definitions.

every other conversation seems to be about questioning whether or not this thing we're doing is worth it.

i don't know if this is the beginning of the end or the opening to a breakthrough.

today i am grateful for honesty.

wtf?

sigh

all this to find two people? forgive me if i'm missing something, but why don't they just send a squad in to get them?

isn't that what special forces and all other kinds of special military task forces are for?

sometimes you win...

people often ask me how i could be a vegetarian...

when you consider alternatives like this, i start to ask folks how could you NOT be one?

*shudder*

had a thought this morning...

what if i have to move?
like, a plane ticket away move?

sigh

i can't write much more on it now. too emotional.

i'll revisit this shortly...

still climbing

the salt soak last night helped tremendously...my head cleared up and i slept better than i have in a few days.

i'll keep praying and try to stay as still as possible.

i've been trying to eat light...although last night i couldn't resist getting some chocolate at the supermarket. of course, i ate a whole bar when i said i was going to stop at one or two rows, but...i deserved it.

i don't really have much else to say...there's a staff meeting in about ten minutes (joy), but if i come up with anything more interesting to say, i'll come back & edit.

today i am grateful for clarity, peace, and candlelight.

a busted saturday night / trying to pull it together

so...for the first time in months (weeks at best), i actually wanted to go out & have a decent time--solo or not. so i got myself together and went out, only to wind up in a lackluster reggae party with all of, oh, 10-15 other people.

sigh

so i made my way to another spot, contemplating going in or just going home (by this time i was waiting on honey to see if he was going to meet me), when i saw a pigeon amble up on the side of the car. no biggie, right?

but then the thing decided to fly up & sit on the hood of my car. i was on the phone with my mom for awhile, and he continued to sit there. and he didn't immediately move when i started to move the car, either. he walked up the windshield and flapped around a bit...then finally flew off and went to the curb when i got the first stop light.

i wonder if that was someone saying hello. like the butterfly that followed me to my door every day for a week a couple of yrs ago.

so anyway...saturday night wound up being a total bust, and that led me back into the fog sunday morning. i made dinner early...dad came over and helped with getting the shelves together. so my bedroom is one step closer to looking the way i've been envisioning it for the last year or so. the homestead is really coming together, thankfully.

but...i'm still very far from being ok.

honey & i finally got together last night, and he was great about saying some of the things i needed to hear...gave me a lot to think about.

my mother suggested that maybe i'm beginning to suffer from the "mild" depression that runs in my family...but i don't think so. or, at least, i hope not.

i think my heart's still broken and i'm missing a big piece of my soul. eventually i'll heal, but the wound is still tender.

i spend the majority of my days bored and unfulfilled. another problem.

i'm far too sedentary these days.

i need to form new bonds/friendships/community.

i need to write again. really write.

my outlets are few and far between. i don't even know when they started to disappear.

i've even had a few nightmares lately...

so...tonight's the night i start my full moon prayer/incantation. the plan is to take a nice salt soak and place the prayers with oshun and the ancestors. i'll light my candles for five days (oshun's number) and see what happens.

i've discarded my old "bliss" prayer...it never fully dissolved, and i think that maybe it just wasn't time for those things to come to fruition. for now, i think i'll just keep removing obstacles and filling the spaces until i see a change.

it boils down to this: in order to see the light again, i have to be unafraid of the darkness. i have to embrace my shadow. that's difficult for me because the other side to the munificence and benevolence of my light is the destruction i can bring as shadow. even being older and wiser i fear it.

still...working with it might be the only way to get back to being me again. i have to embrace that possibility.

today i am grateful for small steps forward.

manager set list

more fun with toothpaste for dinner...

oops....

i don't know if it's racist, but it's certainly a little insensitive.

as usual, i feel there are bigger fish to fry. however, sometimes you have to understand that even 140 years, give or take, can be a bit "too soon" for some jokes.

giving thanks...

alafia!

the fog has lifted and i'm feeling better than i have in weeks. i'm crediting the much needed time off, the revitalization of my space, and (last but never least) my prayers for this renewal.

i'll be doing my abundance/gap-filling prayer on monday with the full moon, now that i've had time to reflect on the obstacles i've recognized & removed over the past few weeks. before i do, i'll be taking a good soak in a salt bath infused with clary sage, cinnamon, & sandlewood. all in the name of clearing the slate and making way for new and better things.

...oh. and i happened to stumble across this sista's site today...good stuff.

today i am grateful for clarity, rest, order, and cleanliness.

still not right...

i don't know what's going on with me...i still feel like i have this cloud hanging over my head.

i'm dissatisfied with everything.
nothing feels right or comfortable.
i don't feel like talking to anyone or being "nice".

i'm not happy. i don't really know why i'm not happy. i'm just not. and nothing seems to cheer me up. i don't know what to do for myself, and i certainly can't tell anyone else what to do to help.

maybe i just lack purpose, inspiration, stimulation.
maybe i'm lonely.

who knows.

but i'm really hoping that having some time off and getting to do some things with my hands will help.

the lady with the fire hair

i had another dream last night about the woman with the red/orange afro. this time she lived in an adobe-type house that seemed to have no doors. there were all kinds of desert colors and pillows/rugs on the floor...it was a beauty salon on the outside, but inside was a sort of elaborate tipi.

this time she was very light skinned with the hair. i was told her name was gloria. she was supposed to be native american, but just appeared to be a "redbone" black woman to me.

last time, she was a smaller, browner woman driving a bus and handing out oshun-lessons.

the first time she was a short, bronzed woman dancing.

she's always a kindly, healing presence, something like a grandmother. even so, she doesn't look old enough to be one, let alone mine (she's always around 35-45 or so).

last night she did my hair and we chatted...the longer we spoke, the better i felt. she always seems to come around when i'm unsure of what's going on around me.

today i am grateful for the presence of the ancestors.

mood swings & machetes

mmm mmmm....i am feelin right evil this morning. i feel like i've been handed a machete...and now i'm trying to figure out how to use it. full kali mode.

i could be onery 'cause i miss honey and just don't feel like going thru all the emotion to say/express it in a different way. besides, he's still busy/not sleeping/dealing with his own shit so i'm kind of ambivalent.

or maybe i just wanna keep (most) folks at arms length.

maybe i'm frustrated about trying to get where i need to be.

i might be tired of boredom.

i still have that dull, colorless feeling. i need sensation.

i'm tired of looking at the walls at home, yet i'm too drained/unmotivated to go out and do anything else.

it's probably the hormones. that's about the only thing that can make me this crazy. pms sucks. especially when i can't remember to bring my !@&$*#& womb tea to work...

release

so i said my prayer last night...

i didn't cry, but...my voice cracked. something in me was shaken by the process of cleansing/healing. that just proves there's something that was determined to hold on to me.

it's all good, 'cause i'm letting go of it.

i can't tolerate any drains on my energy right now. anything that's not beneficial is not worth my time and strength.

next step is to start working on my full moon prayer to oshun...to ask that the spaces the obstacles left be filled with sweet things.

in the meantime, i'll take the time to clear/reinvent my physical space. since i won't be going to south carolina (insert sad face here), i can spend the money on getting some things for the house.

today i am grateful for healing & purification.

blues

the weekend was slightly annoying.
and wet.

honey was off somewhere playing emcee while i was either bored, uncomfortable, or just plain lonely.

i'm still stalled creatively.

i wrote a prayer that i meant to take to the river when i went to odunde, but we didn't make it to the procession. instead, i put the prayer with oshun's things, fully intending to do the work at home...now i can't even remember to light the candle...my other altar's remained dark for god knows how long.

i feel like i'm being held back, and i don't quite know how, why, or by what.

i'm gonna have to rewrite that prayer. or, even better, write down my fears/obstacles and get those out of the way first. then go back to that prayer.

i need to blow off some steam. but i feel like i have no outlets whatsoever.

what the hell is wrong with me?

this will probably all pass once my cycle starts. it usually does.

then again, maybe not. who knows. i really can't even articulate what the hell's going on with me lately. i just know i want to feel normal again. happy. myself. something.

at least i cooked dinner...

homegrown terrorists?

ok.

so they can round up these black dudes, but what are they doing about the white men all over nebraska and god knows where else (remember timmy mcveigh?) who have been forming militias for decades?

i'm not saying the brothas are innocent or incapable of blowing up whatever they'd like to blow up but...hm.

i'm tired of it. all of it.

i want to go somewhere and scream or cry. or both.

i'm tired of feeling like i can't speak, like i have no fking voice whatsoever.

i'm tired of not feeling like i belong anywhere.

sick of having no ambition, no drive, no solution.

i can't seem get my thoughts together in any coherent sort of way. nothing comes out right. i can't make anyone understand how i feel.

i can hardly even eat.

i can't get up in the morning.

i'm tired of this life full of square holes.

i'm round, dammit.

i wanna write some meaningful shit...

but i'm too preoccupied with
my fickle appetite
getting ready for the upcoming vacation(s)
obssessing over how to rearrange my house
reclaiming my dreams
baby showers, bridal showers, wedding presents and credit cards
how to reconcile being too lazy for yoga and feeling horrifically out of shape
missing one
loving the other
boredom

etc
so on
and so forth.

new pictures!

over on myspace

when others say it best...

i just shut up and direct you to it.

so...here you go.

south central farm

i guess no one ever told some folks that without farms, we don't eat.

this is a travesty.

why should a non-profit have to go through the process of trying to raise money to buy the farm?

why isn't the city supporting these people? why isn't this being used as an example of what can happen in other urban areas?

we have huge, beautiful buildings in baltimore that are rotting away because developers are sitting on them like hens on eggs instead of allowing the city and/or community groups acquire the buildings. god only knows what kinds of use they could be put to: safe houses and shelters for youth, community health centers or medical clinics, day care centers or affordable housing units.

these buildings are sitting vacant or worse--torn down for multi-million dollar condos that people may or may not move into.

it's total and utter bullshit.

realities

a friend often told me that as an artist--particularly a writer--i have the power to change my reality and the realities of others. the fact that i'm also a powerful dreamer gives me another gateway into this level of change.

in that spirit, i'm trying my best not to feel helpless in the face of some of the things that i'm having to deal with right now. every chance i get, i actively meditate on that concept and those words.

in the words of the lovely ms. oyin, i may just have to wrap a little more fabric around my head to get folks to recognize.

i kinda did that today...a seriously wrapped bun. long, flowy skirt. earth colors. it's grounding and soothing to me somehow to dress this way.

hopefully, it will allow me to graciously do shit that i really don't feel i should have to do.

let my people go...

i'm sick of being here.

that's all.

i gotta make some moves, but i need money to make those moves. and i probably won't have said money for a minute...but we'll see.

whenever i come in here feeling like i need to cuss somebody out and there's really no obvious reason for it...i know i don't need to be here. but...these paychecks need to buy me a few things before i can bounce for real.

every day i feel like i'm wasting time...

these are my "field negro" days.

i don't wanna do shit for you
i don't wanna answer your questions
...or your phone
i just wanna be free.

odunde!

perfect weather...
beautiful people...
cheap shea butter...
great jewelry...
good music...
african face painting...

...what else do you need?

and afram is coming up *this* weekend, too? shoooooooot...

now let's see if i can stay awake at work today. after not getting home until about 9pm (damn traffic...minus the time it took me to get to my destination off the highway, i got to philly in a little over an hour on the way up), i was up until 1am making deviled eggs.

i gotta teach my best friend a few things. lol.

ITMFA

if even half of what's on the FIRST PAGE of this article is for real...

ITMFA.

i can't believe bill clinton was made into a martyr for lying about an extramarital blow job and meanwhile this mofo has started an illegal war, fixed not one but TWO elections, and pissed all over just about anything that's ever helped poor, black, or brown people and we can't get so much as a decent investigation?

hell
emphatically
no.

the door's ajar...

i was writing in my sleep last night...i haven't done that for years. i mean, i've picked up on a poem or an idea, but this was the beginning of a story.

of course when i was thinking/acting more freely, i'd get up and start writing down whatever it was before it got away from me in the morning. but lately a cost-benefit analysis ensues.

"hmm....sleep or...get up at whatevertimeitis and start scribbling?"

on a work-night, i'm probably gonna choose sleep.

it's a bad habit, and one i'll have to i have to force myself out of. losing a little snooze now and then will probably have to be the sacrifice i make to get my creative juices flowing again.

isn't that the psychosis of every artist?

i really can't afford to ignore ANYTHING right now.
i knocked on the door, and now it's been pushed ajar from the other side.

opening it fully is my choice & mine alone.

i'm tryin to run thru that sucka at full speed.

cuba libre

i'm still trying to figure out what the problem is.

unless it's just that unc sam can't stand seeing all those independently minded, decently educated black & brown folks right under his nose.

if cuba had freed herself as early as haiti, she might be in the same situation that nation is today. as it stands, seems she's gaining the power to hurt some feelings.

but here's what you should REALLY be worried about...

what a difference a weekend makes...

things are...moving. very quickly, i might add.

i feel like a load's been lifted. i give all the glory to the spirits of the ancestors who have never left me, even when i felt i had to leave them.

ashe.
let the journey begin.

i think i'm finally ready to own up to all this goodness i've been given.

but what i know for sure is that the brass ring is coming my way. and i wanna grab it.

it's time.

i am not an immigrant.

or the descendant of immigrants.

at least, not technically speaking.

are these people really serious?

~~~

vote democrat

dude...

so i think a spider bit me in my ear a couple of days ago...*shudder*. i thought it was just one of those really annoying ear pimples, but when i looked closely, there were these two awfully symmetrical scars. ugh.

but since my ear hasn't swelled to the size of texas and i felt nothing until i went to wash my ears a few days ago, i suppose i'll live.

pray that i can find a cheap, sexy dress & shoes to wear to this wedding next week. memorial day sales, here i come...

i've been writing a little...

honey & i are on our way to being back on track. and so am i.

well...i'm off to find something to do. 'cause i doubt any real work will be taking place today. ha.

enjoy the weekend!!

sometimes...

you just have to give it up to god.

so...baba eshu, egungun...if there is a way to be made, you're going to have to make it for me, 'cause i'm out of ideas and i'm running out of patience. i'm putting it in your hands.

resurfacing

i'm finding that i'm really spooked lately. every little noise/creak/voice in the house has me jumping out of my skin.

i feel...aware.

often i'll be resting and feel a sort of tingle all over...something auric. it doesn't feel expansive--as often happens during a meditation. it's more like the feeling i get at a concert hearing a song i love. or the tingle you'd feel in church during a serious praise session. a building-up or edification of some sort.

i think i'm going through a "reawakening". things i've pushed to the back of my mind are making their way to the forefront. i'm sure it's to aid me in moving towards my destiny, allowing me to work towards my goals. i have felt rather disconnected from my intuition over the last several months...probably even longer. apparently enough is enough, and it's time for me to give in.

part of this is most likely the reclamation of energy that was tied up in a previous relationship. not to mention keeping my current one together. i've felt bad because i've felt so closed off and distant from my honey, but apparently this needed to happen. i had to get back into my own skin. i think both of them were making demands on me that i couldn't meet anymore. and it was taking a toll--not in the sense of visible stress or unhappiness, but i apparently needed rest.

i'm finding that a lot of the trouble i'm usually having with my cycle around this time has diminished considerably...and not just 'cause i'm remembering my womb tea and b vitamins. i have a lot more of my own energy for my own use.

all the books i'm reading lately are dealing with the magic of womanhood...i just finished alice walker's now is the time to open your heart. i started sassafrass, cypress, and indigo last night (a book that i was essentially and cluelessly almost re-creating in a story i started some time ago...but that's another story). i plan on getting back to when god was a woman after i finish that. and there's a book on menstruation a friend recommended some time ago that i'm determined to find...

yeah. basically.

so...the best things i can do now are to keep a level head, remain pure in thought and intention, and work my magic.

~~~~

he says he's ok, but i still can't seem to shake the idea that i'm the world's worst lover/girlfriend/partner/whatever. the nagging voice in the back of my head is telling me i'm being neglectful, selfish, and irrational.

groan.

i wish she'd shut up. the rest of me seems to be enjoying the quiet.

one out of 136 americans incarcerated

is this the only way we can deal with our issues?

sigh

...but it's malcolm's birthday

so go educate yourself on that.

are mothers always right?

i've been hearing my mother's voice in my head a lot lately. not so much in the sense that i'm becoming her--although sometimes i get that too.

this falls into the category of hearing something for years and not really understanding what she meant. until that one day when it clicks.

for example: she would always tell me that i would either never marry, marry late (35+), or marry a much older man.

never marry? eh. i didn't like being condemned to a life of loneliness...i've always enjoyed relationships, and i have a pretty good track record when it comes to picking mates. of course i'd get married one day...right?

marry late? that wasn't so bad...i've never really been able to decide whether or not i want children, so that wasn't a bad idea.

a much older man? not if i could help it. besides the physical issues, what if, by that time, i decided i didn't want kids and he did? what if he already had half-grown children...close to my age, no less? what about ex wives and mortgages? what would we have in common?

still, as i deal with some of the things that i'm dealing with now in my relationship, i'm wondering if she was right.

it is very difficult for me to deal with the "mess" that comes with a lot of men being in their first real i-think-i-could-marry-her relationship. i don't have a lot of the "usual" issues (body image, missing parent(s) syndrome, etc), so i can sometimes be detached or impatient in areas that require the most nurturing response.

i want someone who knows their shit, owns it, has dealt with it, and can move on.

mom's always said that doesn't happen for men until around 40.

can i wait that long? should i?

mommy has a friend who's her age and single. she's an oshun-type...many lovers, committed to none. she doesn't deal with the headgames men play, the tests they run. they start getting dicey--even when it's "normal"--she cuts them loose. on to the next good time. she can't really deal with raking the muck, either.

mom says the older i get, the more i remind her of her. she says i will have to decide--probably within the context of this relationship--if i have the patience to weather the storm, or if i'd just rather remain a free agent.

some days i just want to walk away and cut the ties. steel my heart and turn into the sweet, cool, brutally honest woman no one can tie down.

but...i enjoy security, safety, stability. i'm afraid it will wear me down to be alone forever.

yes, i'll always have a life, lovers, my godchildren...but what's all that without a lasting love?

i'm still on the fence.

but sometimes i worry mom's right about me.

progression

i forgot to put on earrings this morning. i hate that. my ears have only been pierced for a few months, but whenever i walk out with out something on, i feel naked.

other than that, i'm...level.

gonna start a new book this weekend. and i might have to go searching for that ntozake shange i can't seem to locate anywhere.

if you haven't already, go cop that new fader with nina simone on the cover. she's the truth.

got a new card for the camera. i'm PRAYING it works so i can get some shots in, too.

i also plan on getting the hell outta dodge early tomorrow afternoon. i need some time to dream.

things are moving along.

my f*cking cat

decided to reach out and claw my little mini inflatable foot bath thingie while i was giving myself a pedicure last night.

*pause*

i am not appreciative.

however, my toenails are now an insanely garish pearlescent blue-green.

i'm happy about that.

i needed this laugh

see more at toothpaste for dinner

the breakthrough

(...thank god for mary j blige albums. can i get a witness?)

anyway.

i'm trying to put it all together right now. all the pieces, all the emotions, everything. get my bearings.

i feel stronger already. no less lost, but stronger. more resolved.

i think that i'm going to have to get back to the art of toenail painting.
i will also need more toe rings. things that sparkle.

i'm going back to sacred woman to see if there's a gateway i need to move through to get past all this...i don't know if there's a creativity element. opening to spirit might have some useful chakra work i can benefit from, though. i might have to pick up the artist's way again, but...i'm not sure i feel like going there just yet.

basically, i want to break out of my rut. shatter it, really.

last night i gave in to a bit of self-loathing. it's good to do that occasionally. i ate a whole pizza (yeah. i know), had some chocolate. smoked 1.5 cloves.

i eeked out a really rough poem. and another letter.

later she wrote...

"back from iraq" (truthout.com article)

i support that they got caught up in some b.s. that wasn't of their doing.

i support the sacrifices they have made mentally, physically, and spiritually.

i support the grief of those not fortunate enough to have a loved one come back home alive. or only half alive.

but the reality is, it never should have happened.

period.

i appreciate the life i live here.
i understand that there are ppl fighting right now as i type this.

but they're not fighting for me. they're fighting for dubya & his buddies.

they're fighting for an administration that can't even see fit to make sure their i's are dotted and their t's crossed when it comes to getting the troops the things they need.

they're fighting for ppl who won't even consider researching alternative energy so NO ONE will have to be in their position again.

the last war that was fought "for me" was the war they wouldn't even let my grandfather fight in because he was black.

so forgive me if it's a bit more complicated in my eyes.

i won't be at the airport greeting them, but as the daughter of a vet, i understand.

so do what you gotta do, get the hell outta there alive, and have the good sense to not allow your babies to walk the same path.

peace.

epiphanies

i lost someone very dear to me a few months ago...not through death, but through some necessary life transitions.

that loss has affected me in ways that are just catching up to me now...ways i think he understood from the outset. but my reactions when it comes to our situation have almost always been delayed. i never envisioned my life without him whereas he had to consider it almost every day.

i took his presence for granted. so when he left me, it took me awhile to figure out why i just couldn't get right. i know now that those are the walls that have been closing in on me lately.

in many ways, he was the only thing keeping me from murdering my creative self. he loved her. he kept her going.

now that he's gone i have a gun back to her head, questioning her usefulness.

i'm in a position now where i have to learn to love her for myself, not for his sake. and that means facing some big fears and insecurities.

as honey told me, "you're not sitting at the feet of the master anymore".

i have to remember that i was who i was before i met him.

the split happened when i had to go to college and consider a "real job". before then, "writer" was an adjective i might have used as easily as "woman" or "black". but when i grew up, i began thinking of myself as someone who had to live in the "real world". there would be no surviving from "hobbies"...at least, that's what everyone told me. and since i didn't have a particularly artsy circle to draw from, i believed them.

when i met him, he nurtured and encouraged that side of me. even after our breakup. through the friendship, the fights, the disappearances...he fed me. we fed each other. he made me feel like an artist again.

and now that's gone.
i have to do it on my own.

i'm the type who needs that creative energy...at the very least, a partner...someone i can bounce off of, who can help me. i draw my inspiration from what's around me, from my interpretation of the world.

i don't suppose any writer can function in total isolation. but when our bubble burst, it destroyed the world that sustained me. i have no teachers, no other mentors. and i wasn't ready to step out on my own.

my creatrix has lost her bodyguard. and she's afraid of me.

i have to find a way to befriend and embrace her, pull her back into myself and love her.

without her, i can never be whole. and i'll never get back home.

nothing to see here...

i have little to no energy.

still can't write.

i feel like i'm sitting in the middle of a huge sea on a piece of cardboard or something equally flimsy...it's holding me up, but i'm kind of waiting for the moment i either sink or get rescued.

i don't even know how i got here.

blah.

so much things to say...

...but i can't really make them into palpable words/thoughts.

just feelings running around in my mind/heart/spirit.

i dunno. it'll come. slowly but surely, i suppose.

reasoning

Ajeriakhili says:
[my former, christian roommate] talked about reading papers questioning the earth's age...i dunno. he seems well into it. he doesnt vote cuz it's against the body of christ...i dunno what to say

righteous livity says:
yeah that's a bit much. like, there are problems here & now. and as far as i can read, jesus addressed his here & now, so why can't we? jesus was a rebel of his time. we're not in his time. we're in ours. he should be an example of how we can effect change for the better for us and call out our oppressors.

Ajeriakhili says:
cuz according to them the bible and god are unchanging therefore the same rules apply.

righteous livity says:
in some cases, yes. there are forms of wisdom that don't change. but action needs adaptation. so anyone who can't see *that* is blind. which brings me back to the question of whether folks are following *jesus* or jehovah. 'cause jehovah was a very specific god for a very specific time/people. everybody following jesus should be a tree-hugging hippie commie pinko leftie. lol

a day without immigrants

wow.

Industries that rely on immigrant workers were clearly affected, though the impact was not uniform.

None of the 175 seasonal laborers who normally work Mike Collins’ 500 acres of Vidalia onion fields in southeastern Georgia showed up Monday.

“We need to be going wide open this time of year to get these onions out of the field,” he said. “We’ve got orders to fill. Losing a day in this part of the season causes a tremendous amount of problems.”

It was the same story in Indiana, where the owner of one landscaping business said he was at a loss.

About 25 Hispanic workers — 90 percent of the field work force — never reported Monday to Salsbery Brothers Landscaping.

“We’re basically shut down in our busiest month of the year,” said owner Jeff Salsbery. “It’s going to cost me thousands of dollars.”

Beef and chicken processing plants also felt the pinch.

Eight of 14 Perdue Farms chicken plants closed for lack of workers. Tyson Foods Inc., the world’s largest meat producer, shuttered about a dozen of its more than 100 plants and saw “higher-than-usual absenteeism” at others, according to spokesman Gary Michaelson. Most of the closures were in states such as Iowa and Nebraska. Poultry plants also closed in North Carolina and Georgia.

stuff.

got my foot bath. gave myself a nice, luxurious pedicure over the weekend.

the carol's daughter stuff is a little messy, but worth it.

started the cleansing...seems to be going well.

i'm adding liquid chlorophyll to my OJ in the morning, which seems to do wonders for my appetite. i don't think it's doing much for my energy level, though. i'll be taking a b-complex vitamin (which definitely helps with energy) and flaxseed oil daily. also trying to keep up the daily 2 liters of water routine.

no chocolate (*sheds tear*) and/or excess sugar. as little dairy as possible. more whole fruits/veggies/grains.

other than that i'm not changing my diet much.

as usual, my shoulders are achy. and the mucus is leaving. that's usually how i know my cleansings are working.

note to self: watch the roasted/raw garlic. good god. i still don't smell quite right. i had the slimiest spinach salad ever on saturday, and someone saw fit to load it with garlic. it wasn't quite coming out of my pores, but other places? ugh.

so now i just have to keep up with my yoga, and make sure i do a decent meditation at least once (preferably twice) a week until the 13th.

work in progress

this ain't quite finished, but...i like it anyway.

i thought of the title as a tagline for my myspace page (another one of those midnight thoughts), and then this poem kind of came trailing behind it.

urban geisha

i keep one hand
on my hip
and the other
in my pocket

walking gingerly down
cracked asphalt streets
in high heeled boots
sequined slippers
or 54-11s

headphones and headwraps
faint smiles and quick hellos

not for sale but
betta have something going for you
to get close

entertaining
bboys & poets
sipping herbal teas in the mornings
after tequila soaked nights

hold my own with medicine men
sleep under altars
stealing secrets i already knew

getting back on track

i realized this morning that this late spring/early summer will probably need to be about cleansing & renewal. basically all the stuff i've been avoiding.

i'm feeling the effects of my horrible eating habits over the past few days, so today's all about green juice & huge salads. maybe some fruit.

i also need to step my water game up. the goal today is to get in at least 2 liters. i should probably commit to that daily for at least a week.

work on getting the house straight.
get back into yoga/meditation.
organize. organize. organize.

when i go on another spending spree, it'll be for all the supplements & other things i'll need for my fast/cleanse regimen. time to break out sacred woman again...i can get some recipes from my copy of afrikan holistic health.

if i can get my act together, i can start preparing around may 1st, do the most intense portion just before the full moon on may 13th, and continue on various levels until my cycle comes again on may 27th.

i wish i could afford to think about buying a new juicer, but that might have to wait until i take care of my exam expenses. i'll see what kinds of deals i can find. if someone has a sale, it's on.

in other news...my carol's daughter order came in. for some reason it went to my mom's house instead of coming to the office. go figure. i'll try the scrub & the herbal foot bath (which smells fantastic) this weekend.

hell, i might get a real foot bath/massager this weekend, too. lol. they're only about $30 at target.

for john lennon

today he'd be
stuck on a myspace page

blogging live from the bed-in
no respected news outlet
would be caught dead near

as angry as any other
non-pop 21st century artist

probably never would have left london

makes you wonder
what folks "ahead of their time"
really could accomplish
at later dates

i really had no reason to think about this man--i'm not a beatles fan, and i'm not familiar with his work beyond "imagine". but i woke up in the middle of the night and had the first few lines in my head.

i guess it applies to anyone people tend to say were born too early.

i argue that the longer we're exposed to "exotic" things in this society, the more regulations we tend to throw over them. at first, it's like "ok. they're just crazy." and no one bothers them. after awhile, someone gets offended (or repressed) enough to say, ok. we gotta rein in the crazies. then the backlash starts. and the creativity dies.

the originators are almost always freer than the people they inspire.

i guess that's true for john, too. if he did the bed-in with yoko with a webcam, it would have been forwarded for a week and dropped. he'd be as marginalized as any other anti-war voice. i'm sure his lyrical talent would put him on the fringe, too.

even my mother's running joke about me being born 30 years too late...not really. what would i have to fight for afer the war was over and militants went out of style?

i'm fine now.
just like john was fine then.

stuck.

well i did get a chance to reread the book last night.

helpful, as always. i need to take it more to heart, though.

i know i'm moving forward. i have to remind myself to respect my pace.

things are chugging along with the massage certification. but...it just doesn't feel like enough.

e.g....this house thing. i am soooo intimidated by all the information and all the time it takes to find all the information and making sure i don't get screwed and etc. and so forth. normally research doesn't bother me, but with all the other crap i have in my head, taking on another phantom project just feels like too much.

i have to keep one thing on my brain at a time in order to make everything else work.

i think that after i get this other expensive ass exam out of the way, i'll go ahead and start thinking about that. right now, if i put any $$ to the side, it's gonna be for that.

i still need to get the house the way i want it.
i can't stand this creative stall anymore.
i want to take pictures. i have to try again with the camera card.
my wanderlust is acting up.
i need to budget. like, seriously.

i'm at one of those points where i need some space to allow my dreams/thoughts to grow and make something of themselves. sitting here all damn day sucks the life outta me when i feel that way. by the time i steel myself to deal with this nonsense, i'm too worn to deal with my work (from the book...and many other books on my shelf these days. i need to remember to use that terminology more often).

it's like...there's a junkpile in my brain, but it's not a junkpile. it's full of gold, silver and all kinds of jewels & other pretty things. but it needs to be sorted out, polished, and put in its proper place before i can use it.

the ordinary is magic.
magic is in the ordinary.

have to remember that, too. that's probably going to be my new mantra over the next few months.

still blank...

i got a new notebook the other day...but it hasn't really helped much yet.

we'll see what happens...

other than that, i'm living.

i really need to reread this book.

i forgot i had it. but i came across the oyin handmade site again today. clicked around a bit and bam. there it was again.

while i'm at it, i probably need to pick this one back up, too.

that combined with my latest dreams is enough to get me thinking.

still not writing, tho.

the christians are coming....

i didn't know it was this serious.

have you heard of this guy?

i have no problem with folks believing/practicing what they want how they want, but to have this idea that EVERYONE should believe in god the SAME way in a pluralistic society is...nuts.

another nugget of proof of the american cultural amnesia.

black folks had their original religions beaten and tortured out of them. maferefun oludumare and the multitude of egungun that many of us are beginning to wake up and remember.

native americans had theirs snatched from under them, along with their languages, as they were scattered from ancestral homelands. their children were shipped off to assimilationist boarding schools, completing the cycle.

others have been goaded and hoodwinked into giving up their ways in the face of a "better" american way.

think about it, kids.

...and what's wrong with this statement?

WITH HIS KHAKI PANTS and checkered shirts, Gary DeMar could be one of a million guys meeting weekly in men’s groups at churches around the country. Bright and articulate, he’s soft-spoken until he gets in front of a crowd. His publishing house distributes hundreds of tracts, more than 20 of them written by DeMar himself, with titles such as The Politically Incorrect Guides to Islam (and the Crusades), which promises “all the disturbing facts about Islam and its murderous hostility to the West,” and The Marketing of Evil, which covers everything “from easy divorce and unrestricted abortion-on-demand to extreme body piercing and teaching homosexuality to grade-schoolers.”

I first met DeMar 18 months ago at his church, Midway Presbyterian, in the Atlanta suburb of Powder Springs, where he was teaching a class on government. During the session, a teenage homeschooler talked about how he had tried in a paper to prove that the family is a form of “Christian government.” “You don’t have to prove that,” DeMar gently chided, and then added, with more heat: “That’s established—established by God!” DeMar’s lecture focused on the “three governments”—family, church, and state—all of which, he told me, should be ruled by God-fearing men.

yeah.
it's always about the god fearing MEN, isn't it?

ay yi yi.

marriage is for white ppl (?)

(i wanted to post this whole thing because i think it's important not to comment on it out of context. i will interject in italics.)

'Marriage Is for White People'

By Joy Jones
Sunday, March 26, 2006; Page B01

I grew up in a time when two-parent families were still the norm, in both
black and white America. Then, as an adult, I saw divorce become more commonplace, then almost a rite of passage. Today it would appear that many -- particularly in the black community -- have dispensed with marriage altogether.

But as a black woman, I have witnessed the outrage of girlfriends when the ex failed to show up for his weekend with the kids, and I've seen the disappointment of children who missed having a dad around. Having enjoyed a close relationship with my own father, I made a conscious decision that I wanted a husband, not a live-in boyfriend and not a "baby's daddy," when it came my time to mate and marry.

My time never came.

For years, I wondered why not. And then some 12-year-olds enlightened me.

"Marriage is for white people."

That's what one of my students told me some years back when I taught a career exploration class for sixth-graders at an elementary school in Southeast Washington. I was pleasantly surprised when the boys in the class stated that being a good father was a very important goal to them, more meaningful than making money or having a fancy title.

"That's wonderful!" I told my class. "I think I'll invite some couples in to talk about being married and rearing children."

"Oh, no," objected one student. "We're not interested in the part about marriage. Only about how to be good fathers."

And that's when the other boy chimed in, speaking as if the words left a
nasty taste in his mouth: "Marriage is for white people."

valid. but then again, what relationships have these boys seen?

obviously they get the point that they need to be better fathers. but what good is that if you sleep with people you hate or barely know/like because of some other issue you're compensating for?

i hate for this to start to sound psycho-babble-ish, but ppl are not raised in vaccuums. the boys have part of the puzzle right, but they also need to understand the value in choosing their partners wisely, not just "stepping up to the plate" when an "accident" happens.

He's right. At least statistically. The marriage rate for African Americans has been dropping since the 1960s, and today, we have the lowest marriage rate of any racial group in the United States. In 2001, according to the U.S. Census, 43.3 percent of black men and 41.9 percent of black women in America had never been married, in contrast to 27.4 percent and 20.7 percent respectively for whites. African American women are the least likely in our society to marry. In the period between 1970 and 2001, the overall marriage rate in the United States declined by 17 percent; but for blacks, it fell by 34 percent. Such statistics have caused Howard University relationship therapist Audrey Chapman to point out that African Americans are the most uncoupled people in the country.

gotta start pointing out stats for prison numbers in these articles. which point to many other socioeconomic issues.

e.g. if we're only x percent of the population, why are we getting charged/convicted/imprisoned disproportionately? what effect is that having on family life?

How have we gotten here? What has shifted in African American customs, in our community, in our consciousness, that has made marriage seem unnecessary or unattainable?

Although slavery was an atrocious social system, men and women back then nonetheless often succeeded in establishing working families. In his account of slave life and culture, "Roll, Jordan, Roll," historian Eugene D. Genovese wrote: "A slave in Georgia prevailed on his master to sell him to Jamaica so that he could find his wife, despite warnings that his chances of finding her on so large an island were remote. . . . Another slave in Virginia chopped his left hand off with a hatchet to prevent being sold away from his son." I was stunned to learn that a black child was more likely to grow up living with both parents during slavery days than he or she is today, according to sociologist Andrew J. Cherlin. Traditional notions of family, especially the extended family network, endure. But working mothers, unmarried couples living together, out-of-wedlock births, birth control, divorce and remarriage have transformed the social landscape. And no one seems to feel this more than African American women. One told me that with today's changing mores, it's hard to know "what normal looks like" when it comes to courtship, marriage and parenthood. Sex, love and childbearing have become a la carte choices rather than a package deal that comes with marriage. Moreover, in an era of brothers on the "down low," the spread of sexually transmitted diseases and the decline of the stable blue-collar jobs that black men used to hold, linking one's fate to a man makes marriage a risky business for a black woman.

people in this nation in general are running out of role models. blk folks are no different. people are being raised in households with intergenerational poverty, mental health and other issues, etc.

in short: people have issues. our people especially.

so do we help each other overcome, or do we abandon each other?

disclaimer: everyone has their limits, and you have to know yours. i'm not saying you need to be your mate's therapist, but i do think that we need to start understanding--individually and collectively--that our parents made mistakes. that we DO need therapy. that a lot of us needed more love and less "tough love". that a lot of us were semi-neglected and/or abandoned children. and we need to heal that pain LONG before we begin to think of relationships, children, and families. of course, that's not always the way life goes.

still, putting a bunch of broken people in marriages with each other--i don't care how binding--is not going to solve anything.

"A woman who takes that step is bold and brave," one young single mother told me. "Women don't want to marry because they don't want to lose their freedom."

Among African Americans, the desire for marriage seems to have a different trajectory for women and men. My observation is that black women in their twenties and early thirties want to marry and commit at a time when black men their age are more likely to enjoy playing the field. As the woman realizes that a good marriage may not be as possible or sustainable as she would like, her focus turns to having a baby, or possibly improving her job status, perhaps by returning to school or investing more energy in her career.

As men mature, and begin to recognize the benefits of having a roost and roots (and to feel the consequences of their risky bachelor behavior), they are more willing to marry and settle down. By this time, however, many of their female peers are satisfied with the lives they have constructed and are less likely to settle for marriage to a man who doesn't bring much to the table. Indeed, he may bring too much to the table: children and their mothers from previous relationships, limited earning power, and the fallout from years of drug use, poor health care, sexual promiscuity. In other words, for the circumspect black woman, marriage may not be a business deal that offers sufficient return on investment.

In the past, marriage was primarily just such a business deal. Among wealthy families, it solidified political alliances or expanded land holdings. For poorer people, it was a means of managing the farm or operating a household. Today, people have become economically self-sufficient as individuals, no longer requiring a spouse for survival. African American women have always had a high rate of labor-force participation. "Why should well-salaried women marry?" asked black feminist and author Alice Dunbar-Nelson as early as 1895. But now instead of access only to low-paying jobs, we can earn a breadwinner's wage, which has changed what we want in a husband. "Women's expectations have changed dramatically while men's have not changed much at all," said one well-paid working wife and other. "Women now say, 'Providing is not enough. I need more partnership.' "

i totally agree with this...when you add in the fact that we don't need men (economically) like we used to, dealing with his issues becomes a matter of sheer will and patience, not "i need to stay 'cause otherwise i'm screwed (financially/socially)"

this means that there is a much higher expectation for men, because they need to begin coming in to relationships sane and emotionally healthy--something that women tend to be much better at achieving for themselves than men. women sometimes tend to be forced into therapy or self-care because of their other responsibilities (raising children, taking care of loved ones, etc.). where is this impetus for men? often it comes with loving a woman, but if she breaks his heart or doesn't stay long enough to help him through his demons...

again, you have to know your limits. what you're willing to put up with and what your dealbreakers are. still, i fear having these discussions without acknowledging the healing that ALL of us have to accomplish (ladies: there ARE NO SUPERMEN) before we see a change in our community.

The turning point in my own thinking about marriage came when a longtime friend proposed about five years ago. He and I had attended college together, dated briefly, then kept in touch through the years. We built a solid friendship, which I believe is a good foundation for a successful marriage.

But -- if we had married, I would have had to relocate to the Midwest. Been
there, done that, didn't like it. I would have had to become a stepmother
and, although I felt an easy camaraderie with his son, stepmotherhood is
usually a bumpy ride. I wanted a house and couldn't afford one alone. But I
knew that if I was willing to make some changes, I eventually could.
As I reviewed the situation, I realized that all the things I expected
marriage to confer -- male companionship, close family ties, a house -- I
already had, or were within reach, and with exponentially less drama. I can
do bad by myself, I used to say as I exited a relationship. But the truth
is, I can do pretty good by myself, too.

ok. so she knew her limits. and the tone of this article isn't of someone complaining. she's not saying all men are dogs, which i'm glad of (there are too many inflammatory articles on this topic floating around cyberspace).

i know i wouldn't date a man with a child again if my current relationship faltered. however, i also understand that putting that restriction up will limit my options in many ways.

there is no singular/easy answer to this problem. it's multi-faceted, like the rest of them.

Most single black women over the age of 30 whom I know would not mind getting married, but acknowledge that the kind of man and the quality of marriage they would like to have may not be likely, and they are not desperate enough to simply accept any situation just to have a man. A number of my married friends complain that taking care of their husbands feels like having an additional child to raise. Then there's the fact that marriage apparently can be hazardous to the health of black women. A recent study by the Institute for American Values, a nonpartisan think tank in New York City, indicates that married African American women are less healthy than their single sisters.

my mother has always said the same thing about my father. yet, they're still together. and they've worked out a lot of personal issues through their relationship with each other.

is it easy? fuck no. but that's what it takes if you're going to stay committed--whether that means "official" marriage or not.

recently i was talking with my honey, and i was telling him that i thought a lot of the issues many women have with men is really the problem of not understanding them, not being used to them. i've known several wonderful women who grew up in households of women...intergenerationally speaking. and it takes a serious effort to overcome that inherent discomfort.

By design or by default, black women cultivate those skills that allow them
to maintain themselves (or sometimes even to prosper) without a mate.
"If Jesus Christ bought me an engagement ring, I wouldn't take it," a
separated thirty-something friend told me. "I'd tell Jesus we could date,
but we couldn't marry."

And here's the new twist. African American women aren't the only ones deciding that they can make do alone. Often what happens in black America is a sign of what the rest of America can eventually expect. In his 2003 book, "Mismatch: The Growing Gulf between Women and Men," Andrew Hacker noted that the structure of white families is evolving in the direction of that of black families of the 1960s. In 1960, 67 percent of black families were headed by a husband and wife, compared to 90.9 percent for whites. By 2000, the figure for white families had dropped to 79.8 percent. Births to unwed white mothers were 22.5 percent in 2001, compared to 2.3 percent in 1960. So my student who thought marriage is for white people may have to rethink that in the future.

Still, does this mean that marriage is going the way of the phonograph and the typewriter ribbon?

"I hope it isn't," said one friend who's been married for seven years. "The divorce rate is 50 percent, but people remarry. People want to be married. I don't think it's going out of style."

A black male acquaintance had a different prediction. "I don't believe marriage is going to be extinct, but I think you'll see fewer people married," he said. "It's a bad thing. I believe it takes the traditional family -- a man and a woman -- to raise kids." He has worked with troubled adolescents, and has observed that "the girls who are in the most trouble and who are abused the most -- the father is absent. And the same is true for the boys, too." He believes that his presence and example in the home is why both his sons decided to marry when their girlfriends became pregnant. But human nature being what it is, if marriage is to flourish -- in black or white America -- it will have to offer an individual woman something more
than a business alliance, a panacea for what ails the community, or an incubator for rearing children. As one woman said, "If it weren't for the intangibles, the allure of the lovey-dovey stuff, I wouldn't have gotten married. The benefits of marriage are his character and his caring. If not for that, why bother?"

as i've probably said elsewhere on here--and the author alludes to as well--i don't think a lack of "marriages" is the real problem. i think it's the cycles engendered by poverty, lack of access to education and other socioeconomic "stairsteps", racism, and a slew of other factors that converge and rear its ugly head in the foundation of culture: the family.

urban haiku

she got them across
the busy street in one piece.
brown boys safe for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i'd help him.

stressed out

so i get home last night in desperate need of something to help me "unwind". i wound up buying a hershey's bar w/ almonds, a caramello, and a 6-pack of mike's hard lemonade.

the chocolate was lovely, but i don't even like shit like mike's hard lemonade. what did the news ppl start calling them? alco-pops?

not to mention that i tend not to drink alone, or in the house. or on tuesday nights. i figured something light & breezy was better than nothing at all...but now i realize: i'm too old for coolers.

a decent bottle of wine would have been a better choice.
or just doing some asanas...

anyway...

i'm tired. a long weekend is most definitely in my future...i am declaring my independence next friday.

this weekend will be all about hazy pleasantness, sex, and other wonderful things. i'll have a kiddie party to hit up next weekend and honey will be away at a show, so i'll have to have my grown-folks fun now.

i still haven't gotten my taxes done...i'm still kinda sore...

i'll have to cook for easter dinner...my mother's decided to have the family over. and, apparently, my cousin's new hubby is muslim & doesn't do pork. so i've been asked to make veggie lasagna. i told her i'd throw in some meatless greens, too. that means another trip to the market friday night.

made a disastrous batch of cornbread the other day to go with my chili...it would have been fine if it wasn't for the spoiled crisco i tried to pass off in there. for your information: bad crisco smells like new plastic. not a good sign if you ask me. i doubt it will be finding its way back to my kitchen.

rappers i know nothing about are dying...

and so on.

be careful what you wish for...

ok. so this morning they had 2 mothers discuss immigration from their point of view.

the american woman was complaining that homework was coming home in english and spanish, what her tax dollars were going towards, etc.

the immigrant woman spoke of how she wanted to stay in her country, but wasn't afforded the opportunities she saw here. so she brought her children to this country in search of a better life.

apparently both women were from arizona.

what i wanna ask that white (american woman):

1) where is YOUR family from ('cause she didn't look native american)?
2) whose land did HER great great granddaddy/mama steal so she could pay all those lovely arizona taxes?
3) does she not realize that most ppl on the planet speak and/or understand at least 1.5 languages? (*this isn't an actual stat or anything...but if you consider geographic proximity and other factors, it's very likely) why are americans so defensive of a language they can barely speak/write in the first fking place? these ppl are almost doing our kids a FAVOR. we could use some exposure.

'cause, see, whitefolks are really quick to blast these immigrants, but how soon they forget that much--if not all--of this nation was ripped from under its indigenous people and others. i don't care if your ppl came to this country with nothing in 18whatever on the mayflower or a prison ship from england. the fact is, you probably got yours because the people who were on the land you now enjoy were slaughtered or herded off like cattle.

as far as black folks who have an issue with immigration...we need to stop letting this divide & conquer b.s. keep us from bonding with folks in the same situations we're in. perception of scarce resources. look it up.

there are black mexicans. and puerto ricans. not to mention all the other blacks and browns all over central & south america.

take a good long look at history. we are facing the chickens of colonialism coming home to roost.

and it's not just here. france, england, and others have had to deal with the consequences of subjugating a group of ppl, making them worship your way of life, and then denying them said way of life in their native land.

what else is there to do but find their way to the mama country? why, it only makes sense.

you killed the leaders working to make independence more than colonialism-lite.

you undermined just about every effort to economic and social justice, political empowerment, and self-love that your "subjects" developed.

where else are they going to look for the gold you keep waving in their faces?

maybe you should have thought of this before you went carving the world into neat little pieces.

i suppose most of us weren't supposed to survive. thus, these problems were not forseen...

oops.

the family (chapter 2)

(originally written feb. 27. a follow-up to this entry)

i looked for my grandparents’ grave the other day. that awful cemetery was cleared out more than usual. so i tried to find them, but it wasn’t any use.

it was cold out there. i walked along the path towards the back of the place. apparently my great grandmother is out there somewhere. and my biological maternal grandfather’s family, too.

i cried. i hate knowing that they’re there and can’t be found. and so many others...so many markers that are just a piece of white stone with (maybe) an initial on it. some are just long, rectangular slabs of white marble with no writing at all.

i’ve seen my grandmother’s headstone once. that’s it. i am glad that some of the land’s been cleared. Very glad. i had no reason to go out there...i was coming back from the flea market and something told me to go by...when i did, i saw that so much of the land had been cleared that i could actually walk around and look for them.

but all my memories are hazy. i wasn’t at my grandmother’s funeral and only went to her gravesite once. and that memory was—i realize now—distorted in that way that childhood memories often are. i didn’t go to the grave when they buried pop-pop. i couldn’t watch them put him in the ground. so I didn’t have a point of reference for that, either. my mother says they’re marked by the same stone. i do know it was flat, which would make it more difficult to find.

i want to find them. and my great-grandmother.

i love her in a way, even though i never met her and have only seen a few pictures. but my mother loved her so much i feel like i know her. and because of her maiden name, i can trace where we came from—a rare gift. my great-aunt garnetta looks like her...

i have to go to virginia this summer and leave an offering in the river. it's been on my mind since honey & i went to richmond last summer.

and we wonder why the weather's effed up...

mama earth is in PAIN.

*sigh*

i didn't even realize dirty gold was a problem.

i really need to stop reading & finding shit out. lol.

Below a Mountain of Wealth, a River of Waste
By Jane Perlez and Raymond Bonner
The New York Times

The closest most people will ever get to remote Papua, or the operations of Freeport-McMoRan, is a computer tour using Google Earth to swoop down over the rain forests and glacier-capped mountains where the American company mines the world's largest gold reserve.

With a few taps on a keyboard, satellite images quickly reveal the deepening spiral that Freeport has bored out of its Grasberg mine as it pursues a virtually bottomless store of gold hidden inside. They also show a spreading soot-colored bruise of almost a billion tons of mine waste that the New Orleans-based company has dumped directly into a jungle river of what had been one of the world's last untouched landscapes...

That frustration stems from an operation that, by Freeport's own estimates, will generate an estimated six billion tons of waste before it is through - more than twice as much earth as was excavated for the Panama Canal. [emphasis mine]

Much of that waste has already been dumped in the mountains surrounding the mine or down a system of rivers that descends steeply onto the island's low-lying wetlands, close to Lorentz National Park, a pristine rain forest that has been granted special status by the United Nations.

hooked on ink

i recently realized that my tattoo addiction probably started before i was born.

as a kid, i'd find myself drawing on myself. legs, arms, whatever. my mom yelled, but *shrug*. i did it anyway.

i was never much of an artist, so it wasn't that i was honing any sort of skill...i think it was just the idea of making myself artful somehow. less plain.

maybe i had some soul-memory i couldn't shake...i've decided that's the most-likely origin of many of my little quirks.

so anyway...fast forward 20-someodd years later, and here i am with 2 (2.5 if you count that one of them's a cover-up) tattoos and...well, it's been a couple of years, so i'm feeling antsy again...

for a long time now, i've been stuck on the nyame dua adinkra symbol. it means "god's altar" and is seen as a symbol of god's omnipotence and omnipresence. of course, i couldn't figure out where it should go. recently i decided a shoulderblade placement would be ideal, if painful.

as i was settling on that, i had another idea. a nile river goddess emblem near my ankle. i'm still not totally sold on the ankle/calf idea, but if it can be made small/feminine enough with the detail i want, i'd be cool with that. the other option is a simple spiral...

these will be the only 1-2 i have that are readily visible, too. that's another thing to consider.

oh well.
mom will just have to yell.

a word on immigration

if they didn't want all those mexicans coming back home, then maybe they shouldn't have stolen their land in the first place.

of course there are other issues...

but that's one of the first that comes to mind when i hear all the whitefolks (and others) bitching about it.

this is what happens when you build a nation by hook and by crook.

things will get really interesting once the native americans get their weight up. not to mention if the native hawaiians make their move.

one hell of a wake up call.

I PASSED!

whew

i don’t know how i did it, but i did it.

if you had a good thought, wished me luck, said a prayer, whatever…thank you.

that is a big weight off my mind…

well, off to the next…

See more progress on: pass my massage certification exam

womb talk

i am so fking frustrated...

i mean, i suppose that there's some witchy-woman way to harness the ashe of pms or whatever, but more often than not i just find myself feeling completely off my square. often at times when i most need to be level-headed.

thankfully, i don't get the mood swings i used to. my cramps aren't as bad (most of the time. there are flare-ups), and the actual shedding doesn't last quite as long. i credit giving up the pill and vegetarianism.

however, i still get bloated (clothes don't fit right...), generally irritable, and mentally fuzzy. my energy level plummets, i can't stop eating, and getting comfortable enough to sleep? forget it.

it doesn't help that it's exceedingly difficult to wake up in this state. i go into very deep sleeps and have dreams that are more like boulders i have to crawl out from under when the alarm clock goes off.

i do not have time for this. i wish i'd looked at the calendar more closely when i scheduled the date for this damn exam. i was just concerned about interfering with (a) my birthday and (b) that damn mercury retrograde. forgot about my uterus.

after i went off the pill, i noticed that my cycle regulated itself to the phases of the moon, something i considered to be complete hooey before it happened to me.

years ago, i ran with the full moon. then there seemed to be a period where i could never really tell what was going to happen. i started getting the symptoms (headaches, bloating, etc.) a full week before the acutal event, so that really threw me off.

in the last few months--i finally started paying attention--i've been moving with the new moon. like clockwork. strangely enough, breast tenderness has once again entered the arena. that hasn't been a monthly problem for years--probably not since adolescence.

still, i'll probably be right as rain by tomorrow, and maybe some of the information i need desperately to stick to the front of my brain really is there and i will pass with flying colors.

here's to hoping.

babylon fall?

the ideas presented in this article probably aren't surprising to those of us who have been thinking about/feeling the crunch for some time now. but far too many folks are easily deluded into thinking that we'll never fall off the pedestal...

In the beginning of his book, [Author Juan] Enriquez presents readers with an experiment. Imagine you're a member of the British cabinet in 1905. A world map hangs on the wall of the elegant conference room in Number 10 Downing Street delineating the greatest empire that has ever existed: an area encompassing nearly 30 million square kilometres (11.5 million square miles), 20 percent of the world's land and nearly one-quarter of the total human population. The question is: How will the world look in 50 years -- in 1955?...

The U.S. national debt, topping $8 trillion, is a troubling illustration of the fact that the United States is squandering its future. "From time immemorial the last thing a government does is drive the country to bankruptcy," Enriquez observes. "You cannot spend five to six percent more than the country earns every year without serious consequences. It is not inconceivable that the U.S. will be running out of money."

It can be said that the U.S.'s per capita debt level, at around $27,500, is acceptable relative to that of other leading industrial nations... But the U.S. appears far different than other Western OECD nations when you look at other economic and social statistics. Enriquez mentions a few: The minimum wage has fallen by 37 percent since 1968 in terms of real dollars; 11 percent of Americans don't have enough to eat; in 2000 the federal government spent $2,106 on each American child while spending $21,120 on each person over age 65. Enriquez cites research indicating that if the U.S. government maintains its current policies, nearly half the budget will be spent on senior citizens by 2016. Hence his question: Do you invest in the future or in the past?

Within two generations, 40 percent of the American population will be comprised of African-Americans and Hispanics. Both groups continue to lag far behind whites and Asian-Americans in the educational system. Few graduate from college and even fewer get advanced degrees or become scientists. Countries like Finland, Iceland, Japan, Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Singapore are already surpassing the U.S. when it comes to scientific research. This causes Enriquez to say that without making significant investments in education for African-Americans and Hispanics, who will make up almost half the population by mid-century, America cannot maintain its current prominence in the sciences.

that last paragraph is in line with my saying that we've been "kicking ourselves in the ass" for a long time now when it comes to how the education of our kids. we'll educate anyone & everyone from other nations--which is fine--but we refuse to tap the potential of little marisol, jorge, aisha, and raheem.

one point that's not raised (at least in the article) is the fact that many of those black children are hindered by other things that make them unlikely candidates for higher education, even if it were suddenly made free for all. lead poisioning, prenatal drug addiction, abuse, and other environmental and socioeconomic factors are stunting the growth of black kids in horrific numbers.

access is only one part of the problem. we also have to cease and desist the practices that are killing our babies.

in 50 years, i will be in my late 70s. but my grandchildren will have to live through and survive the decline. if that ain't food for thought, i don't know what is.

woe is me...

my womb really needs to settle down...

i had what i like to call "alarm clock" cramps this morning. shit that just pulls you out of sleep.

oludare--wonderful cat that he is--didn't wake me as usual. he just sat next to me with a paw on my arm like, "there, there".

then there's the usual: weird dreams...energy fluctuations...

i've gotta study for saturday. i don't have time for this. blah.

(reposted from myspace. yeah...i'm that lazy today.)

in other news...

~my hair is still growing exponentially.
~I GOT A RAISE!!!
~vacation planning is still in progress...stay tuned.