Never draw a line in the sand...

"You should stop drawing lines in the sand, the ocean will wash it away and make you forget your place" -JSansChez


Its late. I'm sitting in  my husbands house, the house I formerly shared with him, our kids and his family. I want to cry like I have every night for the last week but I can't. I won't. Not here, not now. Not in this place where so many of my tears have already been shed. Occasionally I look over my shoulder, watching ghosts replay the past.

Today while drying off my 3 year old daughter, she tells me that she doesn't like me.  She goes on to tell me that she doesn't want me here. When I ask her why she says "because you hurt daddy's feelings" Because I hurt daddy's feelings... I had to fight the anger inside of me at that moment in time. Realizing that this 3 year old child has no clue as to what has transpired between her father and I. He view is completely distorted by the words he tells her. His version, which in my opinion, is way too adult for her toddler mind. She may have seen him crying. And my heart bleeds if she did. But I get frustrated at how he has began physical altercations in front of her and she sees it as me hurting him. I fear that she will be raised to accept violence and victimization in her relationships in the future because despite what we go through, in her eyes I am the perpetrator. I am wrong. Because in her fathers eyes, I am wrong.

It makes me really think about what I am holding on to.  I think about what I am passing on. Or rather, allowing to be passed on to my children. Particularly my daughter. She will one day grow up to be a black woman. Societal assumptions aside, she's got a lot to fight against. Where will she end up if she already believes she would be wrong for standing up for herself. For exiting a toxic relationship for the salvation of her soul, she'll be wrong. Will she learn the tradition of repression or the custom of expression in her life?  I can only look to myself for these answers. The answers lie in the lessons I am teaching. And since I do not have the privilege  of living with them, I don't know how to be effective in what i teach them. Aside from quitting my job and being with them 24/7. An obscene thought to my independent,driven mind. Not that I couldn't be a stay at home mom, I'm just not built for that mentally. It drives me insane, when I have nothing to contribute to the income & welfare of my household.. Its not who I am.Not that I am incapable of doing domestic tasks, but I recognize the fact that I was raised to be apart of a team, not a single parent. Not a dormat, subordinate, or homebody. I was taught to be ambitious, to go after what i want and to get it. I wish for my daughter to be instilled with the same gusto. I hope she gets my lust and passion for life. I hope she knows her worth, always.

Its nights like these when I get mad at my heart. For wanting a man that is so confusing.. That demands I take responsibility for words while he takes no responsibility for his actions. It confounds me how he can say I don't want to be a mother to my children when he's the one that put me in the position I'm in at the moment. Walking away from him shouldn't have meant I had to walk away from them. I'm all for talking to children as if they are older, it gives them a sense of maturity. It helps them to understand whats going on. But some things shouldn't be said. Speaking to children and saying things like "mommy has to decide what she wants", it makes them think I don't want them. And that is/was never the case. Post-partum aside, my kids are the single greatest accomplishment of my life. They are the only think I have done right, the only people I strive to do right by always. They are the first and last thought on my mind. I break my neck to give them as much time as I can while trying to balance work, a flourishing art career, and womanhood. And they think I don't want to be with them and it breaks my heart.

There's an old saying that goes "never let the kids know mommy & daddy are fighting". Its the only thing I have ever truly tried to avoid. But its hard when your partner is so hot blooded. And me being reactionary,  I fight so hard not to feed into it every time. Lately I've been getting better at taking a breath and stepping away from arguments. Retreating to the idea that there is humanity in him. That there is hope in us. Not in our marriage but in us. Two adults that communicate honestly and openly, that raise their children with love and respect. I don't see why we have to revert to this passive aggressive life of silent hostility because our marriage isn't working. Why all the lies on top of lies on top of lies, just to lay them all at my feet and call it my shit.  At this point, does it even matter?

I won't lie, this hurts. To hear someone who you've loved for so long speak in monotoned apathy, as if you are a stranger. It hurts. It hurts so much to have to let go of the hope I held for so long.  I had hoped that in our year apart he would take the same journey I was on. That he would've let me go sooner. Not because I wasn't coming back, but because I just needed room to fly. As much as we argue about the past being repeated, I always find it funny that he never notices that no matter what, I always come home.

I could go on typing for days but I'm realizing that all this is just meant for me to learn my worth, my wants & my needs. I love him, I want him but it's taken me too long to become comfortable in my own skin. To allow myself to live in truth & visibility. And I won't hide any longer. I won't be silent but I will go quietly. It may be years until we ever become friends again. My only hope now is that we can eventually cohabitate the same space at the same time in peace & love.

Heat & death

Its only 10am, and the tempature is already at 84°. Add in the humidity and it feels 10 degrees hotter. Despite going to sleep (nap) with a great disposition, I woke up late and i'm in a funky mood all because its a funeral involved.
I spent about 20 minutes in bed, eyes half open wondering why I felt the need to go to,this funeral today. If we are still obligated to our family, even when that family doesn't really know us. The person who died was my 2nd cousin, a familiar face around,the house in my childhood that us children called cousin/uncle irving. I remember as a littke girl he'd always come by with his kangol hats on, no mattet the weather, dressed in a suit. The most casual I can ever remember him being was a pair of slacks & a short sleeved button up shirt, shoes & kangol to match. He'd always slip my brother and I a couple dollars for candy or ice creams as he'd make his way down to my grandfathers office. For most if my life, I didn't know what he did. He was just like a mysterious realtive I was told to respect.
Growing up in,the 80's, children were seen and not heard. Seperated from everyone during family functions. There was no time evet, in which a curious child like myself could possibly as questions. that never bothered me, not until it directly impacted my life. As it turns out Irving had served as a tax assessor & consultant. To my family, he was their financial advisor of sorts. To this day the details are skewed to me. Not that it matters anymore, nor do I even still care.
When my grandpa died, he left Irving to care for his estate, which included the two houses we owned, my grandmother, brother & I. I still don t know how but somehow one of those house came into his possession without my grandmother receiving a dime. Then the house of my childhood was sold for way under market value because of a stipulation in my grans will.  End if the day, we all felt jipped. There were other transgressions in my,childhood but those stood the test of time as far as how I arrived at this feeling of ambivilance over his death.
but here's the best part, while standing in the church today, the first time in over a year, I recalled every hymn & prayer from my episcopal upbringing, without even looking at a book. I took communion and felt myself release the risidual anger I've held on to for my entire adolesence. I refuse to continue carrying this into my adulthood, I realized its not worth it. I forgave him. because I am not the child that doesn't know anything at all, its okay to grow up & move on. being resentful, holding on to that pain & anger, only caused me to stay stuck in a barbed wire cycle of self imposed victimization. And I am no longer a victim of my past, of circumstance, anymore.  I have grown into a strong willed, focused, intelligent, sexy, creative, loving, compassionate mother, woman, & friend. I have a family of my own now and my story doesn't have to,be,retold by my children. N

Staving off the lonelies..

My husband and I have been living separately a little over a year and a half now, and i'm just becomming lonely. Not all the time, but sometimes, I get lonely.
Being alone constantly has definitely given me opportunity to develop as an artist. It has been refreshing to not,be kicked in the back/sides/legs/torso while asleep, but it has also become harder to sleep without those little feet. Without god night hugs & kisses, its been rough. At my core, I miss the arms of my little buggers holdung

Everybody plays the fool (sometimes baby)

There is no exception to the rule, so the song goes. i'm finding the same truth in life . Tonight I had a fantastic night and still went home alone. I know it was purposeful because i'd prefer to sleep with people that I also like while sober. I see that my truth is that when I go to party, I really just go to dance. Not pick up anybody. My bitch (beast aka cannon rebel) protects me from entering into situations I would later regret. Like that ackward moment when you try to figure out a way to excuse your companion from your space. I want a person that I can wake up to. That causes me to not think about the cigarette I want to smoke first thing in the morning. 
Besides these parties provide me with all the imagination I need when I get home to have a wonderful orgasm. And really,thats all a girl every really needs. Two fingers and a great imagibation. !

Happy PRIDE ya'll!

twisted sister of faith & hope

Today is another day where all I can do is smile and be happy. Walk closer to the light then the dark. In my sleep I realized I can't wait to wake up because I am living my dream of a peace filled life. I am calm inside, there are no more fires raging, baking me from the inside. I am filled with a different feeling. not worry, not doubt, no frustration. i have no name for this feeling because I've never felt it before in my life. I've never been overwhelmed by it. So full of it that I am confident no matter what happens. I will not worry about how I will pay by rent or where I will live next month. Not that I know those things or have a plan better then the one I am working. I am just calm, no matter what I do. There are times when I think I may regress, be angry and spiteful all the time, destroying everything around me with my flames. But I don't. My fire remains lit, yet still, not raging uncontrollably. A beacon.

What makes me so happy? The fact that I am living my truth. I am surrounded by people who only want the good from and for me. They pass back encouragement, support, advice & opportunity. I find it easier to give those same things back. It's what I want to do. None of them are trying to harm me. And I have no want to harm any of them. I am surrounded by love. Maybe it's the nostalgia of being back in my home, NYC. Maybe it's a renewed sense of being from having 3.5 months to rest and think.

I thought about beginning meditation soon. i think it will help. One thing that will definitely happen is more yoga. It's an impossibility for me to have any excuse as to why I can't make it to one single yoga class, when I live doors down. Hopefully it will become practice. Whatever this path is, I am enjoying it more and more. I am loving the feeling of following my gut. I love the butterflies in my stomach. I love being afraid of what i am doing, and I love not knowing what i am doing. Learning as I go. That's what it's all about right? Learning so we can grow? Manifest our unconscious lives into our conscious ones? Smile, love, laugh, live? Whatever it is about, I think I've found the key.

It's like  that old cliche, walk by faith not by sight. As if this is what it feels like to have faith. Maybe that's what it is. Some good ol' faith with a sprinkle of hope, a side of dreams, and a glass of passion. I finally have most of the tools I need to be a photographer. I am hitting my stride as a mother. Learning as a woman how to balance the needs of my children with the needs of my husband and myself.

I am creating as an artist. yesterday for the first time I took advantage of being alone at Wow. I stepped out into the quiet of the stage and sang whatever came to mind. I said whatever came to mind. I recorded it, and as I go through my day, i listen to it and tweek it. I will continue to check the calendar and grab an hour here and there whenever I have the free time. Within time, I'll have something concrete to put on. My baby will be developed and ready for the world.

I aim to pick up my son from school every day. If also possible, i try to get there early enough to drop him off as well. I am getting better at being there more. Teaching myself to get into their schedule. It's hard when you want to work in time to look for a job, and create. But I'm learning. I talk to Soul all the time, we try to see each other every day. Talking, walking, spending time any way we can. Dating again, and it's nice. Having family days/times. slowly we are getting better. Individually we are growing together. Like those trees with twisted bark. It's beautiful.

Scared to sacred

What i really want to say is I that i am happy. Or rather I feel my happiness materializing. I just have to keep pushing forward. Doubt is trying to creep into my mind and make me stress. Break me down to a scared little girl . What doubt doesn't know is that I am fueled by the fear.
I realized I ran to Vegas because the time was approaching that i stand up and be accountable for all the shit I talk. I ran because i was afraid I wouldn't be good enough. I was afraid people would not like me for my life choice. I would be ridiculed, I would be booed, misunderstood, or laughed off the stage. At the time what I failed to realize is that, it's a process. No one is born great. Every person that came before me had to create themselves. They weren't born knowing or being perfect in their area. And if they were an activist or rebel with a cause the course was even harder. No one likes a rabble rouser, except of course, other rabble rousers.
The first day I felt alive in a long time was when I went skydiving. Seeing the world from that perspective gave me a new outlook. Realizing how small I really am, how quickly life passes, how defeating it is to live a lie or stress about things we have no control over. When I jumped, I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that i only get when i am scared shit less. And I want that feeling everyday of my life. In everything that i do. Because I'm learning that life is way more awesome living that feeling. You accomplish so much more, learn so much more following that feeling. So I now seek to do the things that scare me. For they are the things that push me. They are the things that will help me surrender to the truth.

The Stories We Tell (05.18.12)

today i lied, like really lied for the first time in a long time. i won't say what the lie was but it wasn't to anyone i actually knew. it was to a group of strangers. and it felt wrong when i said it but i couldn't stop myself. and then i continued on with the lie and it felt worse. to the point where i was sitting alone in the street sobbing simply because i knew i was lying and i could not turn back to to truth...

so why say anything now? maybe it's the act of anonymously unburdening my soul. even though it was a little lie, it was big enough to get a lot of attention from passersby in the street tonight. it put me in a position where i looked stupid and foolish. i looked like a jackass. there was no good reason for doing what i did, without giving it away. so i will say there was a good reason but i probably could have went about it another way.  i didn't have to lie, i could've told the truth, which would have left me stuck and i didn't want to be stuck tonight. i didn't want to be a lot of things, but here i am the embodiment of them all with smudgy makeup and a stuffy nose. tear trails down my cheeks and not a soul that cares but me.

lesson learned universe, no more lies.

The Wall (05.17.12)

There's this place that runners call "the wall." its different for everyone. some people get to the wall after a mile, or two, or more, or less. when riding my bike around henderson, where my mom lives, i would reach my wall after and hour of biking. always on my way home from the library. i would only be about a half mile away at the bottom of an incredibly steep hill, i could walk the rest of the way but it always hurt more. at times i would stop, catch my breath, and then continue on forward but slowly.

today i have reached the first wall of many more to come. being back in the city, after some time,  initially can cause a shock to the system. i've been running around all week, walking, climbing steps, running for busses & trains. i came home today because of an allergic reaction i was having to some food. after i took my allergy meds, i fell out. now that i am awake my body is aching in ways i have forgotten about. i feel the need to stop and rest. but then i remember i haven't seen my kids in two days. my husband is suffering from terrible pain in his knees. i lost my metrocard, so i will have to walk the 1.3 miles to their house. it's a tough decision to make, to climb the wall. get over it to the other side triumphant and continue forward.

my problem is motivation. my body doesn't won't cooperate and rationalize it to move for that long. after that nap, i'm still drowsy from the medication. getting to the bathroom was a chore that required a lot of wall support. but then i think about them and how they haven't seen me in two days. i think about how he needs me...

and i realize its that rationale that got me in this position in the first place. choosing the needs of other ahead of the needs of myself. its a small thing, a small thing that once turned into a big thing. does making the choice of me over him/them make me selfish? or does it show i've learned from my mistakes? had this been last year at this time, i would rush over to be there and do whatever needs to get done. i wouldn't be listening to my body when it tells me "REST!!!!!!" I would just be listening to my heart, telling me how much i miss them. and i would go.

so today my choice is to take the rest i need. return to them at full strength, ready, willing and able to be great for them.

Passion, commitment.. And the age old questiom of "what are you going to do with your life?"

I don't know how many people come across this little blog of mine. I know even less of how many people actually read it. Neither is of any importance to me. Don't get me wrong, I love you for reading my words. For coming back every now and again to indulge in my progression. I even love those people who stmble across it by accident and read out of sheer boredom. What i'm meaning to say is I don't write for you or for anyone but me. it is my healthy release of the torments that plague me. internally to some extent, i know someone else out there in the world is going through something similar. so i share my lessons and hopefully help them while helping myself.
i'm about half way through my Saturn's Return. Since learning of it and what it meant for me, I've been making some changes and major life defining decisions. One major one being that I am a multi discipline artist. Not for the money but for the love of it, it's healing, it's provocation to social change. I love to write, to paint, to make things, to design, to sing, to perform. I live for it. The many incarnations of artistry is my passion, outside of parenthood, it is art that keeps me sane. I am also discovering that inside of me lives an activist. I've never been a person that could keep my mouth shut when I see something wrong going on. I couldn't keep the secrets that cause others to hurt. Art allows me to express my opinion of the world and make it question itself.
I came to this epiphany several days before leaving my NY home. As I sat in the LES on the sidewalk in the pouring rain crying at the acceptance of the fact that I would have to cancel a show I was in the process of creating. Not because I was homeless or jobless (situations I have faced and conquered before) but because I didnt have the support of my co-creators. While I loved their concern for my "basic needs", I couldn't stomach the lack of belief in me and my abilities. Really it was just the one who,didn't believe. The other I took no fault with, he had legitimate concerns for the creative process and quality of the outcome. But the other is a long time friend. If anyone knows my hustle, I thought, she would. It wasn't until later in the night, curled up on a friemd's couch that i remembered that just because I had to postpone the show, doesn't mean I have to stop creating it. It doesn't mean that I must stop in any way. It just means that right now was not the time for it to be shown.  I must take a pause, perhaps to work out those spots I wasn't quite clear or sure about until my creation is ready to live. It takes 9 months for children to form and be ready to meet the world. One day or month too soon and their survival rate drops, so it is with art. If we rush to get it all out without allowing time for our creation to develop the strength to stand on it's own, we may fall short.  And that is okay. I can live with that.
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Doing It Myself

Not so recently ago, I decided I was done with trying to conform to the standards of beauty set out for black women in this society and embrace my natural hair. after a fantasic gift of homemade flaxseed gel from my home girl P (thekitchensalon.blogspot.com), I allowed my fade to continue to grow out past its fledgling afro stage instead of getting another hair cut. Now i'm on a journey to get a Pam Grier fro.
So now that im stuck in Vegas, with no money to call my own, I have the opportunity to dive into creating my own recipies for hair care. Today's challenge is conditioning. I visited many a website advising what the best ingredients are for DIY conditioners. I made some substitutions since I dont have any essential oils to work with. Here's the recipe:
Approx half cup water to a boil, 3 vitamin c tabs, 3 vitamin d tabs, 2 vitamin b1 tabs, 2 teaspoons lemon juic or extract, 2 mashed garlic cloves, teaspoon olive oil, the oil from 5 fish oil caplets, and two teaspoons honey. Combine all ingredients into a pot and bring to a boil. Then in a bowl whisk strained boiling contents into 4 tablespoons of mayonaise. Add mixture to a smooth (not thin) consistancy. If it begins to be too thin, add more mayonaise to thicken into a paste like consistancy. Cover hair entirely after shampooing.
At this point let it sit on your hair for at least 10 minutes. You can comb it through with a detangling comb if you choose (i prefer to comb through after washing).
Important note: when washing out the conditioner, make sure to thoroughly wash hair. I reccommend at least 7 minutes under mildly hot water to help melt out whatever you fail to scrub out.
After washing, I combed through my hair with a detaingling spray (also homemade). I gotta admit, I kinda cheated on the spray. I combined a cup of boiling hot water with 1/4 cup of suave lavender conditioner and half a cup of melted shea butter. My hair dries quickly, so this was really wonderfully helpful when combing through my sectioned hair.
Is there any difference?
I will say yes. Immediately after washing, I noticed a definite shine that I didnt have before. My curls were well defined and soft. Aside from the dryness, it was a nice switch from the norm. I aslo reccommend that you wash you hair out during a shower because wearning a shirt that smells like mayo is no bueno.
Good luck to you on your natural hair adventures!
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