beginnings

i started writing...pretty suddenly, in fact.

the hardest part is that i have no idea where the story is going, or if it's even a story. i could be scribbling some elaborate back story that doesn't even make it to the finished product.  whatever that is.  

i truly don't know.

and that's scary.

i used to stifle myself because i had to have a direction. after a certain age, i did not--for whatever reason--believe in trusting the process or the journey.  no clearly defined "project" meant no writing.

now i'm more willing to let that line that pops up at 3am guide me wherever it's trying to go.  i listen to the characters and transcribe their words; i don't immediately dismiss them because their story doesn't fit into whatever mold i thought i was dealing with.

the beginning is about loss of control.  pure flow...water from a faucet.

micromanagement is for editing.  

so, i've returned to youthful creative habits.  taking breaths and tuning in.  more deep listening than i thought possible...or maybe than i forgot was possible.

let's see where it takes me...

lab work

i've decided that i want my next writing project to be the last one for awhile.

meaning...i want to focus.

i've started many projects, but i don't know that i've ever finished anything beyond a short story.

i'd like to change that.

so while i'm gestating/formulating, this space may turn into a workshop brainstorm drawing board type thing.

i also have a creative playground to fool around in...that might be my primary tool to get the rivers flowing...

let's see what happens. 

current theme song:

soft

we tend to know when our babies ain't made for this world.

from mother mary to mama cissy there have been prayers for understanding, time...

but sometimes it's real from the first.

they too soft.
too good.
too sweet.
too loving.

baby smiles and childish giggles
clouded with worry, concern.

no babies
are made to fight machines
and survive

black babies are no different.

...but we are expected to be.
as if our rattles are made of steel
and we teethe on granite pebbles.

for those of beauty
taken under
and torn asunder...

basquiat
donnie
'trane
nippy
phyllis

& the unnamed
and unclaimed
of the streets
'hoods
and barrios:

for your sake,

may we heal
and know care;

nurture
and know love;

listen
and find peace.

void 2

every day
without touch
i feel the vault door
creak closer to closing...

{part 1}

distinction

my bliss may not look like yours. 

it may sound strange that i need to remind myself of that, but it's the classic empath trap. hearing and seeing what makes others happy can translate into a vicarious bliss that, once faded, reminds you that you weren't really following your heart, you were noticing someone else's.

and you're back to square one.

most times you don't even realize what's happening...until you crash.

i've been neglectful...

sorry about that.

there's been a lot going on, from 42 days of daily blogging to general life stuff.

but i'm still breathing and what not.

hope to share some inspiration with you soon...

love,

o.

swim good...

[Verse 1] 
That's a pretty big trunk on my Lincoln town car, ain't it?
Big enough to take these broken hearts and put 'em in it
Now I'm driving 'round on the boulevard, trunk bleeding
And every time the cops pull me over, they don't ever see them
And I've got this black suit on
Roaming around like I'm ready for a funeral
Five more miles 'til the road runs out


[Hook] 
I'm about to drive in the ocean 
I'mma try to swim from something bigger than me 
Kick off my shoes and swim good, and swim good 
Take off this suit and swim good, and swim good, good 


[Verse 2] 
Got some pretty good beats on this 808 CD, yeah 
Memory seats I'm sitting on stay heated 
I woulda put tints on my windows but what's the difference 
If I feel like a Ghost, no Swayze, ever since I lost my baby 
I've had this black suit on 
Roaming around like I'm ready for a funeral 
One more mile 'til the road runs out 


[Hook] 
[Bridge] 
I'm going off, don't try stopping me 
I'm going off, don't try saving 
No flares, no vest, and no fear 
Waves are washing me (out) 


[Hook] 


[Outro] 
Don't die

reminders

there is time for bliss
for joy.
for celebration.

life is for the living
life is for the living
life is for the living.

even pipes
need release valves.

for the weary

{for you and all of you.}

in that moment
(had i known you)
i'd have held you close,

let your tears water my heart,
as i whispered your worth to you

in a busy restaurant
stilled
by a demonstration
of black love.

wise women

{inspiration. something about her gaze...}

very few of us
say everything we know.

more disturbing
is your readiness
to [mis]take our silence
for vapidity.

you cannot profess to protect
what you do not understand.