Saturday, February 14, 2009

Valentine's Day Unwrapped?!

nougat? nuts? cream? or just a box of plain chocolates...
lovers? love worn? loveless?

What is Valentines Day really? 

According to a good friend of mine its just like Halloween...trick or treat, sometimes a bit of both. He says "- a bunch of people dressed up like couples-perpetrating a fraud,"
I wanted to burst with laughter as he spouted this to his significant other but after thinking about it I had to shake my head and agree.

The only difference perhaps are the consequences- if you dont give candy for Halloween you'll surely be tricked and if you don't give candy for Valentine's Day you can be sure that there will be no tricks!

All these- WE fools walking the streets punch drunk with the idea of love. reveling in our relationships or wallowing in our bachelorness looking for the picture perfect model of a four letter word that most men dread saying and most women hope to hear on February 14th whether or not they've heard it or seen it in action all year long...


Sad really...some all dressed up as 'loveless losers' others as 'love worn drones' and 'lovely lovers' ...least for Halloween you get to pick your costume!

Saturday, February 7, 2009

...

I want my own space...
I want the walls  papered in Neruda,  Williams,  Giovanni, A lil  Diaz and Rita Dove-just a lil bit, Cypress, Sassafrass, and Indigo peppered with two or three reams of For Colored Girls...Cuz my rainbow has felt like it has been enuf quite a few times...

An urban love poem- A collage of self love and his love and my kiss from god bricolage style.

The dove will be where I left it...in the soap dish, and jean michel will taunt me from the bookcase...challenge me to understand him...to understand me...all whilst romare is on the block pointing and chuckling at us.

clothes will be strewn on ebony wicker and mohogany wood in color coated mounds with accessories that dont match...

orange weather beaten purse, brown sister beaten purse with complimentary sister assaulted boots lay peacefully in front of them betwixt cognac and brandy...boots those are- My liquor looks best atop the cabinet with my glass canisters below the ones that hold the rice and tea and sugar just so...

they look fancy in there; my $1.99 sugar in an $8 jar just the way I like...

the way my $100 scarf looks its best atop a $30 coat and the way they both have fallen off the hanger to their rightful place on the floor of my closet where they will rest until their invitation to the big show...the day when they will be laid out most particularly on my velvety sheets next to my indian silk dressed pillows the sensual luxury that is...and will be again my preferred bedroom aesthetic...

at MY place

Friday, February 6, 2009

Mid 20s & 2009

I cannot be sure if it is the economy, unemployment, my age, the fact that a majority of my friend's are glass half empty kind of  people or some strange configuration of them all ...

But as I approach age 24 in a few short weeks- wow probably more like two short weeks now; I have found myself party to a plethora of "sad saturday," "debbie downer," "woe is me" conversations. And I cannot tell a lie, I have been an active participant. Educated, talented, and ambitious, I, like so many of my friends am feeling a bit dejected and disenfranchised with my current situation... 

For some of my friends, its a lack of professional satisfaction, for others personal, for many some unholy mixture of both...

For me, its an interesting dichotomy;  experiencing an overwhelmingly euphoric sense of satisfaction- witnessing the realization of one of my most prized, privately held, professional aspirations in the formation of More Black Art about More Black ish.. however, simultaneously feeling like somewhat of a failure. Applying and applying for part time jobs to supplement my income and allow me the financial wherewithal to continue my work with MBA , finding nothing day in and day out despite an innate understanding and knowledge that I am far  over qualified for a vast majority of said positions...

 Ping ponging between understanding that life is an amusement park of sorts, my own personal disneyland- If I can dream it, I can achieve it and the nagging feeling that adulthood is a SET UP infact the biggest crock ever marketed and successfully sold. A wolf ticket sold to children so that they don't give up and opt to stop trying at ten- which I might've done if anyone told me that it was going to be marred by incessant bills, tolerating annoying people and suppressing your visceral urge to whisper, mouth, scream, yell, or gesture "F*ck you" to them the way you would've behind adults backs when you were ten...atleast that's the way we did it in Brooklyn.  

In talking to a good friend of mine, wading through similar frustrations she said "My brother used to tell me when you go into middle school it will be better...you'll see and then when you get into high school things will be better...i promise you'll see and then college and then after college you'll see"  And now we are a little ways out of college and feeling DUPED!

Stop lying people...I don't know if we do it for our own sanity...convincing ourselves that things are better than they once were or perhaps to protect the young from the sober reality that adulthood kind of sucks outside of the potentially good sex and good booze- if you drink, but we need to stop lying. 

Maybe children will be sickenly happier when they are adults if we don't sell them some unrealistic candyland version of the future awaiting them. If we tell them of the annoying people and the recurring bills  and give them the opportunity to prove us wrong- to avoid the monotony of adulthood's annoyances instead of getting bogged down in it. Long enough even to discover that life is their own personal disneyland...

And perhaps grow into a generation of  well adjusted, less entitled mid 20 somethings.

As for me, I'll be reminding myself that I am living my dream, if only in part and singing 

"When you feel really low
Yeah, there’s a great truth you should know
When you’re young, gifted and black
Your soul’s intact" 
                                    -Nina Simone

Thursday, February 5, 2009

New Work...Wedding Album Series



"Blushing Bride"
Wedding Album Series
Digitally enhanced cut paper collage
February 3rd, 2009

I have been working on this series for a little more than a week and a half.  The series has evolved perhaps subconciously into a rather satirical examination of  the subject of 'child brides'...I have used a quasi-surrealist technique in the composition of these works to emphasize the absurdity...in my mind at least...the absurd nature of the practice.

Against my better judgement, I must admit that I am afraid that this work, these works, this series will be lost on my audience...
 
While living in South Africa in 2006, I took a series of ridiculouusly slanted art theory lecture courses and gained little else than a quote from a required reading- an article that I carry with me and often use as a barometer to measure my worth as an artist, to challenge my perspective on art and life and what art means to my life.

"On a continent where voice is a privileged means of expression, creativity does not speak […] a refusal to lay itself bare, to give in to the rules devised for and by others. A refusal to part take in self comment: ‘one does not recount oneself, one lives"
                              - Simon Njami Africa Remix 2005

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Broken Promises...Scattered Pieces


Lately, all of my friends on Facebook have been writing these "25 things you never knew about me" notes. Today I read my sister's and she was brave enough to talk about our father and the laundry list of broken promises he left behind. 

I'm not sure why but it seemed as though the stars aligned or there was some sort of divine coincidence, just as I was reading her note, I was watching a Bet J "Black Stories" episode and they aired a documentary entitled "Daddy Hunger" - all whilst I was venting to one of my best friends about my frustration with romantic relationships and ultimately how my relationship with my father has colored my interaction with men.

Part of me has made great strides in erasing the memory of my father... I don't do or sell drugs, I won't even smoke cigarettes ( the smell reminds me of him)...I don't associate with men that sell or do drugs, have gangsta fantasies or jail house dreams, have baby mama's or lack ambition or legally attainable ambitions...

But I have also made great strides in punishing myself for needing, wanting, or expecting to be loved by him..I don't want to have children because I am scared to death that I will impart the same if not similar issues to those that have been bestowed upon me by father or lack thereof on my offspring. 

I love to be loved...I think, I don't know if I have ever been or allowed myself to be loved by a man. I don't trust men because I wonder how long it will take them to hurt me once I do...or how long it would take them to disappear?

I anticipate being disappointed, sometimes facilitate it...

This is the first part of a few fragmented thoughts on the subject

To be continued...

Monday, February 2, 2009

Progress Report

A month in to the new year and I'm asking "what were those resolutions again?" 

At 11:50pm on December 31st 2008, I started a conversation with God that I thought ended at midnight on January 1st 2009.

 I asked for the strength to treat myself  better and by extension those around me. I promised  to work toward being healthier; mentally, physically, and spiritually, to have more fun in my life, to allow myself to be human and make mistakes without having regrets.

I must admit that the first few days were easy, I was strong willed and confident in my ability to follow through. However, as the weeks have gone on, I see my conviction wavering. And experience just how easy it is to slip into the habit of beating up on myself when things don't work out exactly the way that I planned. Sometimes that little voice inside of you can truly betray you-subconsciously internalizing all of the negative things around you and whispering all of  the things that you thought, knew, were absolutely convinced that- you were too strong and too smart to think of yourself. 

I realized today that I can't do this cold turkey and don't have to- this is a conversation, a prayer that I must have with God everyday.