Tattoos and "I Do"s

the possibilities are infinite.



chances are i'll be a tattooed bride.

i have quite a few tattoos, of which, 2 pretty sizable ones show in my superfantastical uber vintage-glam wedding gown. initially, the style of dress i was considering would cover the tattoos, though covering them was coincidence; i happened to be interested in more modest gowns. but as most brides will tell you, what you think you want and what you fall in love with may be from two completely different planets (in some cases that applies to the groom himself).

so i guess i already am a tattooed bride. what i should have said is that chances are tattoos will be on full display at my wedding.

even when i thought my own tattoos would be covered by my then undiscovered wedding dress, i was considering having my brideswomen cover theirs with either their dress styles or tattoo makeup. i think it was partly the assumption that most bridesmaids do cover and partly the knowledge that my mom would prefer it that way. but once i found THE dress and it happened to be one that would show the two prominent tattoos on my upper back (i'm being très vague here, as the fiancé occasionally reads sistergarten and he's not privy to dress information), i had to decide: to cover or not to cover. the more i thought about it (all of this happened in the span of a weekend), the more i began to think about why i was thinking about it at all. covering my tattoos won't make me not tattooed. it will just keep wedding guests from seeing the tattoos. and while that practice may serve a very specific purpose in the workplace, it won't serve me on my wedding day. and while my mother doesn't care for any of my body art, she's very loving and supportive, and i'm sure she'll eventually support my decision to completely be myself on my wedding day. or at least i think she will. maybe. i hope :).

the initial conversation went a little something like this (via text):

me: i'm thinking of not covering my tattoos for the wedding.
mama: what you talkin' 'bout willis?
me: we'll talk tomorrow. get some rest.

she's awesome.

so, i've made the decision that all tattoos great and small will be allowed and welcomed on the bride, brideswomen, and groomsmen alike. for some lovely images of tattooed brides, visit the offbeat bride website.

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"

Goin' to the Chapel (So to Speak) and We're Gonnnna Get Maaaaarried...

i'm getting married. it won't be in a chapel, and it's not until august 2010, but i figured what better way to share the experience and get eclectic suggestions than to occasionally post my planning tidbits here?! also, i wanted an excuse to post my cute little wedding avatar from the knot. there are tons of wedding planning websites, but i chose the knot because the site is user-friendly, and users are able to browse wedding gowns, vendors, flowers, and anything else you might need for the big day, and save them as favorites to review later. the knot also has a tool for budgeting, which is great for someone (like me) who has no clue what certain things should cost. there is also a to-do list tool, which helps users know what items should be taken care of on a monthly basis, counting down to the big day. okay, enough free advertising, lol.

i describe myself as an unconventional bride with classic sensibilities. i'm a big believer in doing things the way i want to, even if "tradition" would have it otherwise. but i also like classic touches of simple elegance (that's my mother in me). so, while i'll likely forgo floral decorations for tons of candles, i do want a modest, simple dress (though it won't be white). and i intend to not let the planning get stressful. that's the plan, people.

oh, and i'm simultaneously a bridesmaid in two of my brideswomen's weddings in the meantime. let the ride begin...

be. fly.
rhythm