Toni Morrison Tribute

Toni Morrison Tribute

The first time I read Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, was in high school. I didn’t fully understand it but I knew it was profound. I came back to it again in college with a little more understanding after studying metaphors in poetry. I knew this book was for black girls like me who had struggled with being dark. Who had struggled with not being what society defined as beautiful.

I read Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon, for the first time in high school as well. It was a book I constantly reread in college. Picking at it. Dissecting it. Googling others responses to it. If anything Toni Morrison’s writing has intrigued me for years.

When I learned of her death it felt like I’d lost a friend. Because I’m away her words her books had been my friends. They had taken root in my mind for years coming back to its forefront again and again. At first I wasn’t sure what to feel (reasons why this tribute is weeks after her death) I hadn’t revisited her words since having my daughter (I haven’t done much reading honestly in years which is a shame seeing how in high school books were my closest friends) in her passing I realized I’m in a new stage in my life – and I haven’t read a Toni Morrison book or reread one for new meaning and lessons. I felt like I’d betrayed her. I felt like I’d betrayed myself for not continuing to read her words when they’d done so much for me.

I made a silent vow to start rebuying her books (I’ve since lost both my high school copies from constant moving). To start rereading her words. To help keep her legacy alive.

Thank you Toni Morrison, the woman in me thanks you. The dark skinned woman in me thanks you. The mother in me thanks you. The writer in me thanks you. The reader in me thanks you. The student in me thanks you.

My hope is that my own words will touch as many as yours have one day.

Advertisements

Poem #1

Poem #1

Do for love

Tupac made me a romantic. I remember staring at photographs of him in books and reading his letters and poems he wrote to multiple women while he was in jail. A boy in middle school gifted me his greatest hits album  All through highschool and college he was the background on my phone. At 19 I wanted him to be my baby daddy. Daydreamed it was me and not Janet that he looked at in poetic justice. Had me wanting a man to write me love letters and poems and shit. Had me wanting a man going crazy over perfume sprayed paper. Now at 27 I realize he was writing love letters to multiple women in jail and it sounds less romantic. 

Guess I like them wishy 

washy 

Gemini men 

real player like- 

smooth as butter – 

scotch between my teeth 

type of men. 

The ones that can talk ya into having a baby with them with no car no house and no money. Sleeping on your couch and eating your food. Tupac made me love golds and little hoop earrings. Made me love structured jawlines and dark skin. He made me a girl from the suburbs like them street like men with commitment issues and trust issues and momma issues. Had me wanting to save them all. To save all the Tupacs of the world from the world. Had me thinking I was superwoman with the strength of devotion. Yearning for spells and a mansion with rooms to hold them all. Captain save a – but call me captain save a man that don’t wanna be loved. 

*** early early draft***

If you have feedback email me or comment anything is welcome as long as it’s respectful. ♥️

A little Prose

A little Prose

A couple of poems I’ve been working on. I write both prose and traditional (poetry with stanzas) but lately have been leaning towards prose so here’s a couple drafts. Trying to warm myself up again to sharing poetry. I would definitely like to take a couple workshops as I’m going back to school in the fall and getting my degree in writing.

Art Scene in Chicago

Art Scene in Chicago

Besides trying vegan food while I was in Chicago I went to two art museums and to a spoken word event. And I honestly fell in love with the artsy scene that is in Chicago.

The first art museum I went to was the MCA where I saw Virgil Abloh’s exhibit and also saw the prisoner of love exhibit that has a viewing of Arthur Jafa’s ” love is the message, the message is death” which was mind blowing, sad and motivating all in one. I cried multiple times and watched the film at least 5 times that day. It’s just really moving and I suggest everyone watch the film if they can (I’ll try and post a link of the video). It was motivating cause lately I’ve been really into black films and doing these videos myself as a visual for my monthly playlist. And just seeing the mashup of all these images that are both positive/negative dealing with black culture just solidified my wanting to continue making these little films.

The second art museum I went to was the Art Instivute of Chicago which always has the paintings of greats that I studied in art school and just seeing those paintings in person is moving in itself.

The spoken word event I went to was the red talk put on by red taps theatre. This event made me realize how much I love poetry and words even more than I was already aware. It also made me feel deeply it made me want to take writing seriously again and put in the time and commitment seeing so many black people perform and be okay in their selfness it was inspiring.

I would move to Chicago just for all the artsy things I’d be able to witness and experience and be apart of too. Already trying to figure out how to get back. Chicago truly is my happy place.

All photos from Virgil Abloh’s “Figures of Speech”

I can’t remember exactly what exhibits these photos were from but artists are (from first to last) Nicholas Africano, Deana Lawson, David Hammons and Ana Medieta.

Photos from The Art Institute:

tbh I rushed through this museum because for some reason we went on a Friday @2:30 I think it might’ve been later and the museum closed at 4. So I don’t remember every single artist from these photos. I know there’s a Dali, Rothko, Curin, Koons, but that’s all I remember.

I tried to upload a video from the spoken word event but the video I have won’t upload for some reason.

however here’s the flyer that was for the event.

Now I’m going to add in some links to stuff

Arthur Jafa:

Arthur Jafa Art News

Love is the message, the message is death

Red Table Theatre

Red Table

also thought these were cool.

Abortion

Abortion

There’s been a lot of abortion talk the past couple days cause of these ridiculous heartbeat bills being passed at the state level. I don’t wanna preach about my views on the issue cause it shouldn’t even be an issue. However, I wanted to say my little piece about it and post some information some sites on abortions post my favorite internet things I’ve seen on the issue and that’s it.

So I like some women have a personal experience with abortion and a lot of this talk has brought up feelings and things I thought I had dealt with but I’ve been pretty angry and moody the past couple days and some of it I can say has come from all the abortion talk – which let me set the record straight I am so happy so many people are speaking up and sharing stories on the issue. There was a time right after I had an abortion where I felt immense shame for it like I had committed some unspeakable sin that I had to hide from people. But the experience like most experiences had an affect on me and it’s human nature to want to share things that change or you struggle with. The shame came from growing up Christian and if I still believed in Christianity like I used to my shame would probably still be here.

When I had my abortion I remember there was a woman sitting next to me where you wait in the hallway for your turn. You’ve been given pain medication already so your drugged up waiting in a hallway with other women who are all about to also have abortions. And I remember I was cold. Like shaking cold and the woman next to me asked a nurse if I could have a blanket. She then asked me if I had any kids I was 22 at the time and I know I looked younger than that when I said no she realized it was my first pregnancy. And she told me she was a mother of 2 but did not want another child nor could financially support a 3rd child. And I remember thinking this is a narrative I had never considered. I was just 22 and scared to have a baby.

The thing about abortion is that there’s all this stigma around it. There’s all this feeling and opinion and what is moral what is right or wrong. That women have abortions at a young age cause they’ve fucked up. Or that only poor women have abortions or only ethnic women have abortions. Whatever the case is what you’ve heard about abortions what you’ve thought about women who get abortions look like it’s probably false. Mothers have abortions, young girls have abortions, couples in love have abortions, older women have abortions, white women have abortions. Every type of woman has abortions.

I read this excerpt on ig earlier today about how the words pro-choice aren’t even really what people need to be using. It’s not about having the right to chose it’s about just having the right. It’s like just having access that’s it. It’s not about my body. It’s not about a heartbeat. It’s not about politics. It’s not about feelings. It’s not about religion. Abortion is a right. It’s not a choice. It’s a fucking right.

The first photo is a caption from @voluptouswitch on ig.

Figuring it out

Figuring it out

Lately, I have been trying to figure out what drives me, what I’m passionate about, what I love and do as easily as breathing. I know I am a creative 1. Because I believe everyone is. Creativity is energy. And anyone and everyone can tap into it. And 2. Because I’ve created before I know I can again. I’ve kinda hit a rut, I guess. Ever since I’ve had my daughter creating seems like a struggle. It gives me anxiety. I procrastinate in doing it. It stresses me out I tell myself I don’t feel inspired and without that feeling whatever I do create won’t be that great. I think too much and then end up not creating at all. But sometimes there’s this fire in me that flickers a little and I know it’s still alive.

So, when I talked to one of my closest friends a couple weeks about what it is I wanna do with my life and what kinda impact I want to have. I started getting serious asking myself well what do I want to create and what do I want it to stand for and what do I want it to do for others and for myself. Cause creating really is a service.

And other than poetry and writing what is it that moves me. And it occurred to me that music moves me in ways that nothing else can. From a young age it’s been my thing. From singing in church choirs to singing in school chorus. Taking piano lessons and quitting it all. Music has always been the thing that moves my emotions and gets me feeling.

I remember being in high school feeling down about my looks not being secure in myself yet. I was so anti. I’d sit in my room after school everyday and listen to my radio. And I’d play Prince or Tupac my eyes closed and daydreaming. I’d fall asleep every night with my radio turned to v103s quit storm to keep the nightmares I’d have at bay (I’ve always had crazy vivid dreams that scared me that I’ve now learned to live with).

I guess what I’m trying to say is I think music is that thing for me I don’t know how or what to do with music. I know I don’t want to be a singer or rapper or performer. I take pride in these playlists I make every month. So, maybe something in that direction maybe making mixes. Maybe djing who knows honestly what I wanna do with my life changes so frequently (guess that’s the Gemini in me) something new always seems so exciting to me. But honestly music has always been with me.

I’m not sure what I mean to say here maybe nothing. But like if you know you’re destined for something and you’re unsure of what that something is this stage is okay too. Try a lot of shit out whatever interests you just try it and see what happens.