Where is here?

It has been more than a few months since I last blogged. I guess I tend to want to write when I'm not quite sure which end is up. This year has been filled with really high highs and really trifling lows lol. Professionally, I soared finally taking steps toward a solo-exhibition of my own work by launching a kickstarter campaign and garnering the support of my network in a major way. I also went back to what i know best; grinding. Spending quite a few months working two "traditional" jobs, working on my art and More Black Art, inc. in the meantime and in between time- I love being busy. Somewhere in that fold, I went back to church as my spiritual foundation and sense of self were shaken a bit by a precarious end to a complicated relationship.


And Now, as the holidays approach and my baptism has passed, I find myself more confused than ever. My financial situation is a bit trying but how can one complain when all of your bills are miraculously paid? That's called faith working. My work situation has slowed down, so I've noticed that my social life is nonexistent. I don't quite know if that is a good thing or bad thing. I have made so many promises to myself...not to settle for less than I deserve, not to compromise who I am,  to love unconditionally and unashamedly when I find someone who loves and respects me. A nonexistent social life puts clear parameters on my ability to find that mate but also prevents falling into the trappings of anything that falls short of what I have outlined for myself- a catch 22.


I spent the weekend with my favorite person, my best friend; A man. He respects me, loves me, and takes care of me the way only a GOOD brotha could. I came home to a barrage of questions, statements, and side-eyes from my girlfriends; all of whom believe that there is more to this story than i am willing to share. There isn't! He makes me feel safe and we argue about how I fuss and fight when he offers to do things for me- because I am an independent type. Now I may not know which end is up in my finances or romantic life but I know a good a friend is hard to find- so I'm keeping him!

I don't know where here is but I am open to seeing where walking in faith, new declarations, good friends (at least one) and persistent work toward my professional goals will take me...

"You know what ah taking taxi, where yuh does catch taxi 'round here, matter of fact, where here is?"- Sprangalang, Bring Drinks (Soca Parang)

Shut the F up!

I watched Martin Scorcese's Public Speaking with Fran Liebowitz with my roommates the other day and fell in love with her cynicism. Perhaps she appealed to my own inner cynical Suzie. I cheered when she unapologetically scowled that this- my generation is too confident, too self- assured, self aggrandizing in the belief  that their voices need to be heard and everything they say validated...


"No! Shut up," she says "You are not the greatest [...] Your every thought does not need to be heard" 


On some level, I may have internalized this thought some time ago. I have not been published in years and striking a balance between writing and art has been arduous at best. I fear I am losing my perspective which brings me to another poignant Liebowitz statement,


"There are two types of writers, those who mature into better writers and those who get worse..."
I often wonder from which of these cloths I am cut...

BedStuy FLY & Chicago Bound!

This is the newest addition to my BROOKLYNchicks series for the mamltdart Brand tee-shirt line- Bedstuy FLY! Working in what used to be "Bedstuy Do or Die" and is slowly turning into "Bedstuy- Please let me find a place there before I die," I am inspired and astonished by the style of the women in this area. I am even thinking of doing small framed prints of this illustration. Limited Edition only of course- mAm "LTD" aRt (lol)!

In fact I am actually considering printing a few of my illustrations to be sold along side of my tees at an eclectic shop called Julian|Marc in Chicago Illinois! I am so excited to have lined up the first shop to carry the mamltdart brand! 2010 is beginning with a bang.

I hope to have the line in at least 5 shops across the country by March! I've got so many new designs and even old designs that I haven't had printed yet. Day before yesterday I got in a shipment of Seduction tees that I'll be packaging to send to Chicago in the next few days. I am soooo excited the possibilities are endless and i'm just getting started.

If you are interested in becoming a mAmLtDaRt retailer or just want to add a hot shirt to your collection contact me @ mamltdartconsulting@gmail.com or buy online at http://www.etsy.com/shop/mAmLtDaRt.

FML

I am NEVER one to say FUCK MY LIFE but if ever there was day when I was feeling that very statement it would definitely be today...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

You look tired!!!!!!!

Today I ran into an old acquaintance, after a long conversation about our successes, failures, and stresses-she turned to me in agreement as I said "I am tired" and uttered " you look tired"...thats how I feel right now... Tired and stressed and embarrassed that its written all over my face!...everyday isn't a good one, I guess!

Giving yourself a pass

Life has been going so well lately...

I'm almost hesitant to write it down for fear that documenting the moment will perhaps encapsulate the feeling only briefly and like sitting up after hanging one's head backward over the side of the bed-all the blood will come rushing back to the assigned regions and the euphoria will slip away! Just that fast!

The job offers, the progress, the strength and ability to speak freely regardless of the consequences. The inherit understanding that I alone define not only others interaction with but perceptions of me. In the simplest ways- by setting boundaries, most politely in both professional and personal relationships...that realization took me 24 1/2 years to put into practice and it felt damn good...POWER.

So much of my time is normally spent analyzing and over analyzing my encounters with other people. A misunderstanding with a supervisor, an argument with my mother, an annoying text from an ex,present, or future lover...yet everyday that I wake up i say a prayer "God i give over all of my burden to you" and here I'd been usurping his power and our agreement by going through this ritual of handing him my burden everyday and then sneaking back and pulling little pieces of it out to labor over in the confines of my own mind.

Lately, I've been far too busy to mull over every incomplete thought, misunderstanding, vile attempt at a transference of negative energy into my upbeat spirit! I'm too freaking fly!

So, I've given myself a pass and I'm letting God do his do, while I do me! Saying what I mean or meant to say and letting it drop...letting negativity fall on deaf ears and teaching other people how to treat me . As it is, the mere act of subsistence, of existence, begs understanding...so understand this...I am, and will only be me!!!!!!!!

Handle with Care

"Time will bring the real end of our trial
One day there'll be no remnants no trace
No residual feelings within ya
One day you won't remember me.

Your face will be the reason I smile
But I will not see what I cannot have forever
I'll always love ya
I hope you feel the same.

Oh, you played me dirty, your game was so bad
You toyed with my affliction
Had to fill out my prescription
Found the remedy
I had to set you free.

Away from me
To see clearly
The way that love can be when you are not with me
I had to leave
I had to live
I had to lead
I had to live......."- Maxwell pretty wings

Dear baby,

Being with you was the most beautiful pain I've ever felt. I knew it wouldn't last, it would've killed me if it did but i've never loved more passionately. You will always have a piece of my heart.

Part of me will always yearn for your touch, think of your smile, pray for your success. I hope the woman/women in your life realize that they are nurturing my love when they are loving you...I want to put a sign on you that says handle with care.

love always,

Am I crazy?!

Life Checklist

1. go to school

2. find out what you love to do

3. graduate

4. find a job in your field

5. get a high salary

6. build a life with someone else

7. have kids, own property,etc.

8. live happily ever after

Right?

I got 1-3 down...I just didn't get the innate guidebook to the rest. I am so frustrated. Here I am 24 and on hand trying so hard to live my dreams of entrepreneurship, building businesses that utilize my talents; on the other hand I am broke, moved back in with my mom, almost an entire calendar year without a steady paycheck and less than substantial financial or emotional support.

I must be absolutely insane to continue to live this way. Everyday I wake up in high spirits, praying for god to help me see my way to success...in the way of two steadily growing and financially successful companies, peace of mind, and stability. And every other evening or more like every other week...here i am banging my head against a concrete wall..hoping that if my frustration doesn't break through it my sheer blood, sweat, and tears will....I just want to scream.

Missing him...

Growing up...Although I bought into the ideal of one man and one woman...I could never quite grasp forever and then I met him.

He is dark chocolate, ebony, and caramel complected... he has locs, is bald, and has a Caesar...he's got a mustache, beard and no facial hair..and he is tall and short...hairy and hairless..muscular- somehow he is always muscular... He is loving and considerate, inconsiderate and aggressive...nonchalant and honest, rude and overwhelmingly chilvarous all at once.

He stimulates my mind, erects my sense of humor, awakens my passion with his passion...Oh how he loves me...he loves me so much he tucks me into bed and kisses my forehead...he trusts me so much he loses himself in our kisses...he thrusts himself in me effortlessly...he erupts in laughter with me and pins me down to make sure I get mine...

I miss him, all of him...I love him...I wonder if I can have forever with all of him?!

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!

...

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

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

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

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...

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. 

Martyrdom...Spare me!

Today the United States' House of Representatives voted on President Obama's stimulus package. Not one Republican Congressman voted for it and it passed anyway! Isn't this the equivalent of falling on a knife for no real reason?Wasting an incredible  show of solidarity on a battle -long lost in the arena of public opinion and further painting oneself into a public relations pickle whilst the President basks in the glory of a 70% approval rate and the good karma of putting forth an effort in the realm of bipartisanship. 

Failures and silent martyrs the lot of them...As I sit here watching CNN, I can not resist the urge to contextualize them in the confines of a conversation I had with a good friend earlier this week.  She lives in southern Africa and works as an upper level assistant to the leader of an advocacy org/ NGO- A man that I might add like most intellectuals is eccentric to say the least. He, she informed me is on a hunger strike in solidarity with the citizens of Zimbabwe which might seem quite sensitive and empathetic if it were an organized effort with others or if any one outside of his office was aware. Perhaps if by his sacrifice a small child in Zim would receive a meal due to the incredible pressure by outside forces- alas none of the above are true. He fancies himself a contemporary Gandhi unfortunately the rest of the world has yet to receive the memo. Thus, this is little more than  an egotistical, self important man playing the martyr....I must appoint him in all my power as a U.S. citizen to an honorary seat in the House...he would fit right into the Republican demagogy and lord knows they could use the extra vote.

Working again

Its been a few weeks since I've created a piece...so this felt good!

 working title :

"Wedding album: Jitters"

3 Dollars & 6 Dimes

If it is at all possible to be a dreamer and a cynic wrapped in one that would in fact be me.  I never owned a pair of rose colored glasses and often wanted to snatch them off of the eyes of family and friends without warning. However, at this moment I find myself at an impass...too many people reaching for the glasses they perceive me to be wearing and actually digging at my eye balls...scratching my natural lens...I'm not bleeding yet but it is, I fear, inevitable.

Yesterday a loving family member offered me a cup...to use to stand outside of the metro station and beg because clearly I am too blind to the fact that I am wasting my time tryin to build up some ridiculous business when I need to go and get a "real job," so that I can eat...

I can't help but thinking that food would taste so bitter.

 

I am not blind to the skepticism swirling around the impetuous manner in which I have co-founded my soon to be nonprofit organization or the fact that I am very young and that although numerically older than me, my business partner is younger because he's a man...and um, well, he's a man. Nevertheless, we have a sound business plan and are achieving small victories everyday. Perhaps our methodology is unconventional but never have I heard it uttered that there is one path to success. What we aren't doing is waiting for a pot of gold to land in our laps! waiting to hit the number! Waiting for someone to hit us with their vehicle so we can sue ( and yes I know plenty of people that are not opposed to this scenario)! 

It seems to me that Black/African American people...WE...as a people are often so wrapped up in the faith of the ridiculous and farfetched.Dreams have to be cloaked in some kind of mystical improbability to be credible. I think its the certainty of knowing that they will most likely never come into fruition which makes them acceptable. Why can't we  fathom of merely stepping outside of the box? owning our own destinies? investing in our birth rights? Our divinely appointed talents? 

 To quote Erykah Badu "I was born with three dollars and six dimes" and I don't know about you but I'm going to invest mine...

Economics and America

Comfort...whipped chocolate icing so thick it weighs the cake down

Indulgence...the taste of dark chocolate layer cake dancing around on your tongue

The cost of comfort and Indulgence...$4.00/Slice (a big thick slice)

The indignity one suffers when you realize you can't afford comfort or indulgence...Priceless

Oh Johnny!

I have never been one to be dogmatically pro-black. I believe that to ascribe to any such movement is to dismiss the nuances and complexities that define "blackness". Okay sometimes you can catch me caught up in a pan africanist thought perhaps even enthralled in the idealism of the theory but overall I understand that it in many ways is far too utopian and one dimensional to ever really subsist in this society. I try to stay a little left of center but I am being pushed and prodded to my socialist roots and pan africanist dreams today. I was really really trying but in my best ghetto speak I must admit that "people always wanna say dumb shit and then be mad when you have to school them"- I plead with you forces that be please stop pushing me.

I was minding my own business -literally this morning when I logged in to my facebook account to check on the Facebook group I set up for More Black Art about More Black ish.. an FB chat message popped on my screen from Johnny...a random kid that attended middle school and a portion of high school with me. He was promoting something or the other and asked me to become a fan of the page- i bartered for him to join our FB group.  He said the name of my organization bothered him and then we started sliding down the slippery slope of a quasi political discussion that I knew I didn't want to have but he kept prodding " More White Art about More White ish would be racist tho rt?" He asked...Of course it would you prick! Mainstream America is white and therefore doesnot need to make such distinctions...the entire pie is theirs we just have a little slice of it and we have to put it in the fridge with a label on it so no one else will eat it! 

 Next thing I knew he was telling me -A BLACK MAN IN AMERICA- was telling me that police brutality is almost always justified. And not only that but it is necessary in order for police to protect and serve the citizens of this country...I threw up a little in my mouth, several times actually because he actually believed what he was saying wholeheartedly. Sean Bell (NYC) was a bad dude otherwise why would he have been at a strip club in the first place he typed with no lol or lmao behind it. He was dead serious and I could feel my blood about to boil as I picked my jaw up off the ground I informed him that the police didnot have the moral or legal power to make such a judgment and that they don't get to decide who lives and dies...my mistake was trying to reason with crazy. This fool responded by saying yes they do, thats their job and all I could think is right that makes sense fuck the courts and the judges and the entire legal system - the police have autonomy...They are judge, jury, and executioner on the street and thats okay because there is a war on "crime" which everyday becomes more and more synonymous with little black boys.  Everytime they show a wanted poster on the news its the same sketch of some ambiguous looking negro...a big nose, big lips, and brown eyes and black hair or a do rag with a different height and weight is that not an amazing truth to anyone else that every black criminal seems to look exactly the same?  

But all of this paled in comparison to his next announcement "you need to relax, we can relax, didn't any one tell you we are on top now?"

I didn't say much other than that 's how we stay exactly where we are my brother...that type of complacency. When did Obama gather up the entire African American/Black population and profess to be the messiah.  Did I not get an invitation? I'm hurt man is it cause i'm a coconut? 

All wrongs are not suddenly righted because "one of us is on top now" or is it? is police brutality somehow justifiable now because the commander and chief is black? are poverty and economic disparities amongst the races instantly erased? I don't know but it is certainly a hard pill to swallow for me.

 Even harder as I was pushed even further into the arms of pro-blackness as my business partner and friend sent me (still reeling from the FB chat) a link to a news article about a bakery in NY - my hometown and one of the most liberal cities/states in the country - that was selling "Drunken Negro Face" cookies. And all the work is done huh Johnny? We can relax?