Blog the other way — self care
de mon coeur (from my heart)
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My creative expression is intuitive, as you know, so sometimes, I end up painting messages to younger versions of myself to help them understand that the mistakes they think they made, or the path they chose, was just fine because it all made me the person I am right now. A person I love more than anything or anyone. And I believe that more Black womxn and girls need these messages.
Everything must go?
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I want to create dope art. I want all these sacrifices to mean something. And to be honest, so far they haven't. Y'all. Can we talk? I am an entrepreneur. I'm also a creator. I'm also a podcast host. I am also a freelance editor. I am someone's auntie (and I am THAT kind of auntie), someone's partner, someone's best friend, someone's sister, and nobody's fool. I quit my job last December because I wanted to chase my dreams, and somewhere in all that chasing, I left myself behind. What I'm saying here is, I was so ready to leave...
The Crown Initiative
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This post is late in coming because, I had to get my words together. I wanted to make sure that I was completely honest and transparent, as is my way. I also wanted to make sure I conveyed the gravity of this project in a way that did not diminish my intention or its goal. Can we talk? As you know, I'm a Black womxn. I can add other labels to that description, but Black womxn is sufficient right now. Being a Black womxn is no easy task. And I don't have the time or space to write about what...
Retribution
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I’m going to be completely transparent here, because I love y’all, and I believe with all my heart that right now, with all that’s going on, Black people need to be open, honest, and transparent about our feelings, so we can heal them and move forward, together.
Why journals?
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Today is journal day, and I figured I'd write a little about them while I wait for UPS to deliver my new inventory. I have been a journaler since I learned to write. I carried a notebook and pencil with me everywhere I went, and wrote my first poem after my father died in '91. My life was hectic and tumultuous, but when I was reading a book or writing out my feelings, it brought me a level of solace I couldn't find anywhere else. I used my allowance each week to troll office supply stores for the newest, fanciest,...