Thursday Throwback: Crayons

remember getting lost in the world of crayons?  coloring a really fly picture and giving it every ounce of your energy?  those were the days.  i liked to color using the technique my older brother taught me...a hard, solid outline and then a light shading-in with the same color.  fiyah!

i think i'll invest in a throwack box of crayons soon...there's no therapy like the soothing sensation of coloring...

be.  fly.

rhythm

"I Wonder" Wednesday: The Evolution of Dreams

*photo found at thebeanstock.com

sometimes we follow our dreams.  sometimes dreams follow us.

i've heard that when our dreams come true, they're so much better than we ever could have imagined.  i've always believed that...mainly because our imaginations tend to be limited to those things to which we can relate.  so even with a great imagination, we really have no frame of reference for what's possible.

so, often, as our dreams evolve, we begin to strive for things that weren't even on our radar initially.  this also happens as we begin to realize our own capabilities.

so, in light of all this, i wonder:

should the people who make up our support systems be expected to automatically support these new  dreams (or new incarnations of existing dreams)?  or should the loss of support from some people just be considered a natural part of the evolution of support systems?


related garden reading:

Letter from the Garden: Dear Stars

Just keep tryin' and tryin'
It's just a matter of timing
Though the grindin' is tirin'
Don't let 'em stop you from smiling

Just keep tryin' and tryin'
Sooner or later you'll find it
It's surprisin' how inspirin'
It is to see you shining
'Cause in the dark of the night you're all I can see
And you sure look like a star to me...

-Cee-Lo, from Kelis' "Lil Star"
 

 

 

dear stars,

just a friendly reminder from the garden to "keep ya head up."  we're all working on things, big and small (though i assert: "no point in dreamin' small"), and sometimes a little encouragement goes a long way.  so keep shining, stars.  we never know who we are yet.
 
be.  fly.
rhythm

The Return of Huey Freeman: Boondocks Season 3

excuse me.  everyone, i have a brief announcement to make.  Jesus was black, Ronald Reagan was the devil, and the government is lying about 9-11.  thank you for your time and good night.  -Huey Freeman

he's baaaaaaaack.  May 2 (11:30pm) brings the return of Boondocks to the Cartoon Network.  i, for one, am too hype.  and i'm sure the return will bring with it the controversy that's followed the show (and comic strip) from inception.  in a discussion with a dear friend who was "amazed" that i like the show, i offered:

i think it's a necessary voice. i think some of the more disturbing things he portrays need to be discussed, and he's created a dialogue. i think it's akin to when "gangsta" rap began telling its stories. the stories already existed, yet some were mad about them being told.

so, i'll be watching and supporting.  will you?  if not, i won't ban you from the garden.  promise.

The Sun is in Your Hands, Player...

this is a song that makes me spill out all my guts...~Bilal, "Sometimes"

i saw Bilal in concert last night.  great concerts always inspire me.  i get lost in them.  for moments in time, i am moved, inspired, awestruck, and most importantly, i am not dichotomous.  i am my full self.

all of these feelings were hightened during Bilal's performance.  this man gets FREE.

a little background:  i've been trying to see Bilal in concert for YEARS now.  i finally had a ticket to one of his shows a couple of years ago and ended up not being able to go due to health reasons.  there i was, sittin' at home on a beautiful summer evening with a ticket to a Bilal concert, watchin' a Law & Order marathon instead.  luh me some Law & Order, but it ain't Bilal.

anyway, he finally booked another local show, and i got to see him.  his voice is insanity.  i already knew this, but i hadn't witnessed the control he has.  and really control is a poor description since his voice is likely led by the will of his spirit, as it pleases.  so that's probably the very opposite of control.  at any rate, it was flawless in its roller coaster-like transitions through octaves and tempos.  and aside from the sheer beauty of his voice (and his speckled face--i can't front.  i objectify.  and i've got a weakness for freckles), his committment to expression is timeless.  the kind of freedom i'm striving for in my work.  and i'm getting closer (an inch is closer even in a span of miles).  but artists like Bilal and performances like his remind me that i've come so far and i've got so far to go (pun intended for the pleasure of fans) (*edit: a good friend pointed out that this reference is actually D'Angelo.  it sounded like Bilal in my head.  eh, well).

inspiration is a glorious blessing.

be.  fly.
rhythm


*photo isn't from last night.

Ruby's Garden: Zucchini

i was sitting here eating japanese takeout.  as i thought "mmmm, this zucchini is good," i then thought, "[the grandmother] would be so proud."  my maternal grandmother, god rest her soul, was one of many family members who was always up in arms about my eating habits as a child.  i was picky, and i didn't eat much of the few foods i did like.  i can say with certainty my grandmother would be shocked to see a) that i eat quite a bit now and b) that i eat vegetables at all, much less zucchini.  albeit, zucchini really tastes like whatever seasoning it's murrrrinated in, but that's neither here nor there.  whenever i would turn my nose up at [insert food here], my grandmother would say "chile, you don't know what's good!"  this included chitlins, so i'm not conceding that point.  ever.

so during this stream of consciousness, i thought, "i should blog about that," which led to "i should make a regular feature of rubyisms."  i think i'll do that.  and another out of my mother's isms (the lady is hilarious, and i've always joked and said i was going to make a book of them).

in search of my (grand)mother's garden...

be.  fly.
ruby's granddaughter




*photo: i "borrowed" this one since at the time of this writing, mine was devoured.  carry on.

"I Wonder" Wednesday: Vison Boards

*edit pictured: not my vision board.  eh...somebody else's.


i wonder what i'll ask the universe for next.

i'm in the process of creating a new vision board.  if you're not familiar, a vision board is a visualization tool, a collage of images and words one compiles in order to utilize the law of attraction.  the idea is that you create a visual reminder of what you're asking the universe to bring you.  visualizing these things is strong reinforcement of your thoughts and actions as you work to attract what you want and need.  ideally, the board is placed somewhere you'll see it regularly.

i've seen first-hand the power of vision boards.  in fact, the house i live in today is very similar to the one i glued to my vision board a little over 3 years ago.  but i don't just include material goals on my vision boards.  i also include images and words pertaining to health, spirituality, and relationships.  i usually review my vision board once or twice a year to see how many goals i've realized.  i may start doing this more frequently.  when i feel the need to re-energize and set new goals, i create a new vision board.  some goals are new, while some long-term goals re-surface as i see fit.

and so it's that time again.  i'm getting out my scissors, magazines, and glue.

i wonder, do you make vision boards?

Kindergarten for Woman

kaihalulu


"The universe is one great kindergarten for [wo/]man. Everything that exists has brought with it its own peculiar lesson. The mountain teaches stability and grandeur; the ocean immensity and change. Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes - every form of animate or inanimate existence, leaves its impress upon the soul of [wo/]man." ~Orison Swett Marden

be. fly.

rhythm

Flowers for the Garden: BLACKsummers'night

he's back. and right on time.

maxwell's long-awaited release, BLACKsummers'night finds his ever-loyal fan base ready to fully immerse themselves in his smooth, sultry grooves. he does not disappoint. the first of a slated trilogy is a masterpiece in my oh-so-humble opinion. it has been (and will remain) in HEAVY rotation for this music-lover.

but this isn't an album review so much as it is commentary on my love of music...the most giving flowers in my garden. whenever i get new music, i imagine myself as a child unwrapping and devouring a sloppy cheeseburger. it's true. ketchup at the corners of my mouth, licking my fingers, not daring to stop and wipe my mouth because i'm totally in the moment. that's not me being poetic. this is really what i feel like every time. interestingly enough, i only eat veggie burgers in real life. but in these moments, the symbolic burgers are ALL BEEF. but i digress. i DEVOURED this cd tuesday and haven't stopped playing it since. [insert cheesy (lol) metaphor about food for the soul]. off the cuff, "fistful of tears" was my instant favorite, but the cd is such a solid package, the tracks will likely all take turns being my favorites.

i even had a very healing moment during my first listen, for which i'm deeply grateful.

after a rough month, i was in dire need of some new (great) music. and i will forever remember maxwell and BLACKsummers'night for being so perfect in this time.

All it Needed Was Some Mulch...

i have a dirty little secret. actually, to most of my neighbors, it's no secret at all. the fiancé and i have one of the worst lawns on our street. okay, probably THE worst. and our house is positioned near the entrance of the subdivision, between 3 houses beautifully maintained by middle-aged, all-around handy/crafty men who all seem to be at least semi-retired, one of whom we secretly refer to as "world's greatest dad," because when he's not sculpting the front lawn, he's playing softball with his young daughters or volunteering to repaint the sign on the front of the subdivision. all this to say these men and their perfectly manicured lawns make the young unmarried (gasp!) couple look even worse by comparison. i even park my car on the street instead of the driveway in an attempt to hide the pitiful grass and patches of dirt and rocks. it kinda reminds me of a balding man hanging on to a few sprigs of hair in the front.



well, after a much-needed trip home to south carolina for my 10-year high school reunion (double gasp!), a dear friend's graduation, and pre-mother's day quality time, i returned to a totally different lawn! the beloved had cut the grass (a constant struggle with this philadelphia boy), spread grass seeds for the bald spots, and remulched the little flower bed. the azaleas, hostas, and lilies his mother helped me plant last year had bloomed while i was away, and he had added fresh mulch. it looked like a whole new lawn, and most significantly, a whole new garden. before a couple of hours of work, the situation was so bleak i was walking a couple of extra feet to and from my car, parked inconveniently on the street. now i was proud of my pitiful yard's progress.



almost a week later, the oh-so-obvious metaphor dawned on me (you did know this was all leading to a metaphor, right?). the pitiful space didn't need a complete overhaul. it just needed some attention. but somewhere along the way, i had become so hopeless about the outlook that i wasn't even trying anymore. and i had slowly begun to do the same with my career as a writer and performing artist; gradually giving it less and less attention until eventually (without this revelation) i might have ended up so discouraged by the rejection letters and closed doors that i wouldn't try anymore. thankfully, i have been reminded that grass takes time to grow. and it needs water, sun rays, and sometimes seeds (particularly when it's been damaged).



so there's my gardening lesson for the day. remember to tend your garden even if it's the ugliest on the block. or something like that. i should write fortune cookies.



peace, sistergarteners...

To Be Young, Gifted, and...Humble

...to be young, gifted, and black/oh, what a lovely precious dream... ~nina simone, "to be young, gifted, and black" (simone/irvine)

of all the versions of "to be young, gifted, and black," donny hathaway's is my favorite, which is not common for me since it's not the original, but i happen to think that musically, donny could do no wrong. so, i'm biased. anyway, i never knew (before looking for an info link to share with the sistergarten) that ms. nina co-wrote the song as a tribute to her dear friend lorainne hansberry. i learn something new every day...but i digress (per usual).

i thought of this song as a result of some things that have been turning over in my mind during the last few weeks. i've been thinking a lot about being humble (or being humbled, by force, which is a totally different animal). over the past 6 months or so, i've been collecting a (virtual) pile of rejection letters from literary agents and publishers who have mostly replied "great work, no thanks" (to paraphrase). and then earlier this week, i got a "no thanks" from a famous poetry retreat for artists of color (who shall remain nameless 'cause i'm a hater at the moment); no "great work" on that one. no feedback at all, actually. at any rate, a series of things (including said rejections) has prompted me to ask myself, "do people just not get it, or am i just not giving what i think i am?" this question, once posed rhetorically aloud, was answered by the fiancé with (after a long lecture)...wait for it, wait for it...a kanye west reference.

for a bit of background, i've had a love/hate relationship with mr. west for years. but to be honest, i've begun to understand him a bit more over the last year or so. and in the midst of this kanye west comparison (as i'm thinking, "did he seriously just compare me to kanye?" and trying to determine if it was an insult or a compliment), i began to identify with 'ye and his larger-than-life ego. i have, as of late, suspected that his ego is the result of many years of having to prove to others that he is as talented as he says he is. and, in fact, he has since conceded this point (check out www.kanyeuniversecity.com/blog and search for "ego," as i'm unable to link). so i've decided to use the kanye method and start telling everyone how great i am. how, in fact, i am the best writer and poet of the 21st century...the maya angelou of my generation! okay, so i'm not really going to do that (nor do i think that way), but i do have a newfound respect for him as an artist who's not modest for the sake of politeness. as a naturally modest (and quite shy) person, i would not choose to emulate his model, but i can take a page from it for my internal dialogue.

so, enough about kanye, as i don't even own any of his music (aside from what he has contributed to some of my favorite artists' work, namely john legend [or "homeschool" as i call him] and estelle). my point is that as artists and as people, we have to remind ourselves of the greatness of our contributions, even when others can't/don't/won't recognize it. now, whether or not you choose to rant onstage at an awards show (or on your blog or social networking page) is at your discretion. but at the minimum, rant within. believe that you are as good as you believe you are (yes, i meant that exactly that way). and if you're not, at least you won't know it :).

they say that i won't last too long on broadway. i'll catch a greyhound bus for home, they all say. but they're dead wrong--i know they are. 'cause i can play THIS HERE GUITAR. and i won't quit 'til i'm a star...on broadway... ~george benson, "on broadway" (mann/weil)

In Search of Gardens...

...scared to have kids and do like daddy did/'cause i'm so scared of failin'... ~anthony hamilton, "comin' from where i'm from"

so many black men are afraid to be fathers (or afraid to try to be good fathers) because of the failures of their own fathers. and i'm sure this is true of most men who lack good father figures, but i'm also sure it's more prevalent in the black community, given our history of fatherlessness, tracing back to slavery.

so, i was recently have a conversation on this very topic. and the prevailing question seemed to be: nature or nurture? what makes the difference between 1) men (of any race and/or background) who become bad fathers (or avoid fatherhood) due to fatherlessness and 2) men who become great fathers despite fatherlessness. for the sake of this conversation, "fatherlessness" refers to the occurence of absent fathers as well as seldom-present or emotionally absent fathers. so, is it simply an innate difference in personality and character of the young man (or can personality even be innate)? or is it a matter of the other male influences in his life? or is it a combination of these and any number of other factors?

as i approach marriage and hopefully parenthood, i am giving more thought to what experiences have made me who i am. as alice walker once wrote, "in search of my mother's garden, i found my own." in my life that means that in beginning to understand my mother as a woman (not just as "mama"), i begin to learn a lot about myself as a woman, and actually, vice versa. and to take it a step further, i'm naturally thinking of my future children's gardens and how they will be shaped by my own.

so, as this began as an examination of the effects of fatherlessness on young men, it seems to have come full circle as an examination of the effects of parents on children. what say you, sister(and brother)garteners?

fathers be good to your daughters/daughters will love like you do/girls become lovers who turn into mothers/so mothers be good to your daughters, too... ~john mayer, "daughters"

Garden Tools...

so, now i have a blog. it's official. i've come up with a theme, a vision, and some ideas. no more excuses, right?

so, welcome to sistergarten. i'll try not to overuse metaphors about kindergarten and gardening, but i am a poet, so i can't make any promises. and if i do, you shouldn't believe them, because my philosophies may change tomorrow.

i envision sistergarten as an interactive space to share, learn, and grow. the space is open to all who enter open and respectfully. that includes the menfolk :). sistergarten is woman-centered, not women-only. and though i innately come from the perspective of a black woman in america, i value and appreciate the experiences of all women and hope to capture that here. as for the men, they contribute to our experiences on myriad levels, so we need to recognize their presence in our gardens (even when they're trampling over the tulips).

so, please feel free to share your views and share this blog with minded friends (they don't have to be like-minded. they just need a decent level of sense about them, lol).

tools needed for this journey: mind, spirit, curiosity, and a decent internet connection.

be. fly.

rhythm