This blog will be about my growth as an Artist. My Loc journey. *Art-Music-Photography-Poetry* and the random scribbled thoughts...
Please excuse the constant sarcasms & typos
You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Don’t. It’s a bad word, ‘belong.’ Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love shouldn’t be like that… Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don’t, do you? And neither does he. You’re turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can’t value you more than you value yourself.
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and
sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.
there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate.
nobody ever finds the one.
the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill
My skin I brown
My hair is platinum blonde, today
Burgundy tomorrow
My nails is long
I know no sorrow, cause
Ain't nothing I care to know, but…
where my check so I can get my tix for the Jay-Z show
And
I do aspire to be a video-ho do
and I know
Pop-eye got shot last night
But
that's how it go, in da ghetto
in da ghetto
What do they call me?
Read the tattoo on the left breast
My name is…Lexxus
yeah girl
my name is…Lexxus
get it right
My skin was young, so young
It burned and tore
My hair was pressed and curled
and tied with ribbons that Sunday morn
September 15, 1963
I screamed
In the basement of the church, I screamed
The last day I would ever see
Ma and Pa would never know the woman I would grow up to be
I was an involuntary offering for humanity
Why did they hate me?
Why dey hate me, so, so, sooo
What did they call me?
Four Little Girls
Four Little Girls
My skin is tough
This woman
This
Lunch and home, mistake and love maker
double shift worker
sometimes warrior, sometimes weak
This wife
This single soldier
God-given, God fearing, God doubting
This, bearer of wisdom and fruit and pain
This
once girl…sometimes still
saint, sinner, teacher, multi-tasker, friend, this everyday wonder
This…woman
This…nation-builder
This…raiser of leaders, of losers, of babies, of boys who will become men
Girls who will become women
This…woman
Some call me mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
Hey mama
My eyes are a rainbow
I reflect the spectrum
I have seen much
My heart weighs heavy
Even with joy I feel so much
My hair is electric
I am ablaze, I am the source
I can feed you or starve you
Breath life into you or bleed you
I can fuck you or love you
I don't care how they call me
I know who I is
Call me…
crazy, divine, Ma'at, true honeybun, Supreme Pontifica, electric lady, holy prostitute
I don't care what you call me
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I know who I is
I is…
Mammy, mulatto, welfare mom
Matriarch, mid-wife
I IS
"Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again - the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world's greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding"
~
Saul Williams
i exist in the depths of solitude pondering my true goal trying 2 find peace of mind and still preserve my soul constantly yearning 2 be accepted and from all receive respect never comprising but sometimes risky and that is my only regret
a young heart with an old soul how can there be peace how can i be in the depths of solitude when there r 2 inside of me this duo within me causes the perfect opportunity 2 learn and live twice as fast as those who accept simplicity - Tupac Amaru Shakur
Met him on a Thursday, sunny afternoon
Cumulus clouds, 84 degrees
He was brown,deep
Said he wanted to talk about my mission
Listen to my past lives (Word?)
Took me on long walks to places where butterflies rest easy
Talked about Moses and Mumia
Reparations,blue colors,memories of shell topped adidas
He was fresh,like summer peaches
Sweet on my mind like block parties and penny candy
Us was nice and warm,no jacket,no umbrella,just warm
At night we would watch the stars
And he would physically give me each and every one
I felt like cayenne pepper,red,hot,spicy
I felt Dizzy, Sonya, heaven, and Miles between my thighs
Better than love,we made delicious
He me had,had me he
He made me tongue tied
I could hear his rhythm in my thoughts
I was his sharp, his horn section
His boom and his bip
And he was my love
Love rain down on me,on me,down on me
The rain was fallin and,and slowly and sweetly and stinging my eyes
And I could not see that he became my voodoo priest
And I was his faithful concubine
Wide open,wide,loose like bowels after collard greens
The mistake was made
Love slipped from my lips
Dripped down my chin and landed in his lap
And us became new
Now me non-clairvoyant and in love
Made the coochie easy and the obvious invisible
The rain was falling
And I couldn't see the season changing
And the vibe slipping off it's axis
Our beautiful melody became wildly staccato
The rain was falling and I could not see
That I was to be plowed and sowed and fertilized
And left to drown in his sunny afternoon
Cumulus clouds,84 degrees,melody
Love rain down on me,on me,down on me [2x]
[Mos Def]
In stretched my arms towards the sky like blades of tall grass
The sun beat in between my shoulders like carnival drums
I sat still in hopes that it would help my wings grow
So then I would really be fly
And then she arrived
Like day break inside a railway tunnel
Like the new moon,like a diamond in the mines
Like high noon to a drunkard,sudden
She made my heart beat in a now-now time signature
Her skinny canvas for ultarviolet brushstrokes
She was the sun's painting
She was a deep cognac color
Her eyes sparkled like lights along the new city
She lips pursed as if her breath was too sweet
And full for her mouth to hold
I said,"You are beautiful,distress of mathematics."
I said,"For you, I would peel open the clouds like new fruit."
And give you lightning and thunder as dowry
I would make the sky shed all of its stars like rain
I would clasp the constellations around your waist
And I would make the heavens your cape
And they would be please to cover you
They would be pleased to cover you
May I please,cover you,please.
I did this painting back in 2008. It's one of my most sold prints and it's one of my unusual ones. I say unusual because this time around, I only used one medium: oil pastel. I remember reading a book about being a woman and went on from there. I remember telling myself that it wasn't necessary for me to draw the male figure because I only wanted to focus solely on the woman. I don't have any elaborate story to share for this piece, however, I would like to add one of my favorite poems by Lucille Clifton as a description of the theme/idea behind this painting.
Homage to My Hips
these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top
After awhile you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open,
And learn to build all your roads
On today because tomorrow’s ground
Is too uncertain for plans, and futures have
A way of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate
Your own soul, instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn.. .
With every goodbye you learn.
Dear shitty friend,
You used to be my closest friend~
But now , after years of friendship thrown down the toilet by you~
You are indeed the shittiest of friends!
We used to be like sisters~
Where there was one, there was the other.
I shared in your happiness,
I was your biggest cheerleader!
Your friendship was more valuable to me than anything else in the world.
Then, the time came when we had to grow up.
The friendship could have evolved, it could have survived, it could have flourished~
But you chose to cut me out of your life.
Returning only on occasions when you felt especially shitty about yourself and you needed me in your cheering section.
You were like some crazy friend version of a booty call.
You'd call when you needed a friend and disappear when you didn't need it.
But when I needed my cheerleader, you were no where to be found.
When I needed guidance, sisterhood, love,support and friendship,
You turned your back on me;stopped answering your phone.
I kept waiting, even coming back for more.
I figured, you needed my friendship more than I needed my dignity.
Now, the calls have become few and far between.
Maybe once every year or so, you check in~
Just to make sure that I am not perfectly happy, you like to drop in and infuse my life with a little misery.
It's OK. I don't get upset and cry anymore,
I barely even care.
In sad reality, I expect nothing of you
And there lies our friendship, on the floor in a million pieces.
I don't worry about you ever reading this,
I know that you wouldn't afford yourself the inconvenience.
There is no benefit in it for you.
Thanks for the lifetime, but lets move forward.
I have children of my own now and I can't keep stroking your ego,
And feeding your narcissism.
I am too tired, too old, and even less interested.
Please don't call me inebriated, professing love and friendship
and making promises that you have no intentions of keeping in the light of day.
I have endured my last frustration and worry over you.
I wish you nothing but happiness in your life~
But I refuse to any longer try to resuscitate a friendship that is so long dead.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise
We all have moments when inspiration is needed, when our motivation falters, and our shadows seem to overwhelm our guiding light. Our vision becomes cloudy, and we use our already soggy sleeve to wipe away what will lead to tears. The breath we try to take smells foul and polluted, and pressing forward seems halted by heavy feet. We search our hearts and minds for the truth to set us free…. but none of our truths seem to apply ; at least not to this moment. The undaunting spirit is daunted; your favorite sword seems heavy, yet the enemy still approaches. And you wonder, what will stir your spirit; what will give you strength?
I was born in the Congo.
I walked to the Fertile Crescent and built the sphinx.
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light.
I am bad.
I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with Allah.
I got hot and sent an ice age to Europe
to cool my thirst.
My oldest daughter is Nefertiti.
The tears from my birth pains
created the Nile.
I am a beautiful woman.
I gazed on the forest and burned
out the Sahara desert.
With a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes,
I crossed it in two hours.
I am a gazelle so swift,
so swift you can't catch me.
For a birthday present when he was three,
I gave my son Hannibal an elephant.
He gave me Rome for mother's day.
My strength flows ever on.
My son Noah built an ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day.
I turned myself into myself and was Jesus.
Men intone my loving name.
All praises all praises,
I am the one who would save.
I sowed diamonds in my back yard.
My bowels deliver uranium.
The filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels.
On a trip north,
I caught a cold and blew
my nose giving oil to the Arab world.
I am so hip even my errors are correct.
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went.
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents.
I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal.
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission.
I mean...I...can fly
like a bird in the sky...
Kidnap Poem
Ever been kidnapped
by a poet
if i were a poet
i'd kidnap you
put you in my phrases and meter
You to jones beach
or maybe coney island
or maybe just to my house
lyric you in lilacs
dash you in the rain
blend into the beach
to complement my see
Play the lyre for you
ode you with my love song
anything to win you
wrap you in the red Black green
show you off to mama
yeah if i were a poet i'd kid
nap you
Crutches
it's not the crutches we decry it's the need to move forward though we haven't the strength
women aren't allowed to need
so they develop rituals
since we all know working hands idle
the devil
women aren't supposed to be strong
so they develop social smiles
and secret drinking problems
and female lovers whom they never touch
except in dreams
men are supposed to be strong
so they have heart attacks
and develop other women
who don't know their weaknesses
and hide their fears
behind male lovers
whom they religiously touch
each saturday morning on the basketball court
it's considered a sign of health doncha know
that they take such good care
of their bodies
i'm trying to say something about the human condition
maybe i should try again
I recently discovered an island, that I never knew existed; an island where life exists in all its glory and simplicity; an island where people do live in harmony despite what the world tells us; an island where a village raises a child.I recently saw an island that I was too busy to notice; too busy being a teenager, chasing after futilities, problems that did not exist. I was too busy wanting to be American, hanging out at the hottest clubs and giving the rich money that they did not need.I recently visited an island in which I lived for 19 years, but never appreciated. I remember counting the days for me to leave to come to a land that after 6 years still does not feel like home, a land that for some after 40 years has never felt like home…I recently went to an island and saw a people that live in what some call extreme poverty; a people that wakes up every day, laughs, smiles and is able to dance for 3 days straight despite the hardships.A people where elders often live a whole century and do so being a picture of health.I recently lived in an island where I was taught to respect my elders, taught to work hard, taught to value family and friends; a place where I was taught to treat EVERYONE as an equal, no matter their social status, the color of their skin or their education level.I recently talked to an island that cried out to me because its children had forgotten about her… They left and never once looked back. It hurts her even more they act like they miss her, as if they value her by painting her on their bodies. She sees how they forget the customs and values that she fought hard to inculcateI recently listened to an island that told me how upset she was her children were unable to hold on to their culture, and favored another to hers. She was appalled that some forgot to speak her language, how so many could not whisper a French sonnet, or sing in our beautiful creoleI recently was on an island who urged me to bring her children back, to do everything in my power to recruit those who truly missed her and remind them they have a home, they have a heritage that soon may no longer exist…I cannot force you to come back to Haiti, as a matter of fact I would not. I just want you to know that for 13 years, from that faithful night on August 14th, 1791 until we proclaimed our independence on January 1st 1804, our forefathers fought to give us something to be proud of, something to fight for, something to keep alive…Haiti is our country and we have a responsibility to do all we can to keep it alive and take steps every day to bring it back to what it was…LA PERLE DES ANTILLES
Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is a woman. A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories. Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.
Imagine a woman who trusts and respects herself. A woman who listens to her needs and desires. Who meets them with tenderness and grace. Imagine a woman who acknowledges the past's influence on the present. A woman who has walked through her past. Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life. A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf. Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and wisest voice.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods. A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness. Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body. A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is. Who celebrates its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body. A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom. Who refuses to use her life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life. A woman who sits in circles of women. Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
Imagine a Woman II
Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life. A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer, and challenge. Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.
Imagine a woman who participates in her own life. A woman who meets each challenge with creativity. Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.
Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully-formed solitude. A woman who is available to herself. Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.
Imagine a woman who acknowledges the full range of human emotion. A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly. Who allows them to pass through her as naturally as the breath.
Imagine a woman who tells the truth. A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it. Who refuses to defer to the thoughts, perceptions, and responses of others.
Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses. A woman who produces original creations. Who refuses to color inside someone else lines.
Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual safety and approval. A woman who makes a powerful statement with every action she takes. Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.
Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself. A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life. Who remains loyal to herself. Regardless.
Until you walk, run, fight a mile in her shoes Don't you dare stand in front of me and tell me What a woman must do Until you have walked, run, fought a mile in her shoes Don't you dare stand in front of me and tell me
What a woman must do What a woman must do
She must Swing from chandeliers for undeserving spouses and paramours Who deny her suffrage by day, but crave and praise her womanly wiles by night Good enough to fuck but, not good enough to vote She must Go from the beauty of Africa, to the horrors of massa Go from titties dangling bare and shameless To being branded, licentious, temptress, embarrassed Go from land of yams and heat hot To land of cash crops and sellers block Go… from God names, to no name, to his names Go… from God names, to no name, to his names Now Black Now inhuman Freedom stolen, family stolen, now beholden… but still golden Field hollerin'… and Ain't I A Woman Ain't I A Woman
I can see her, me Washing dishes, clothes, and children Making love, money, dinner, and beds Always the first one off a sinking ship But last in the line to receive respect
What What a What a woman What a woman must What a woman must do What a woman must do What a woman must do Must do Must do, must do, must do, must do, must do…
She must Wipe away tears and reclaim strength After rape, abortion, lover's betrayal, child's birth, child's death, husband's abuse Tricking to buy baby shoes She must Be called a muse Which is just a synonym for use Put upon pedestals Dainty and protected And because of that disrespected Victorianized Made a paradox of famous anonymity Left to go insane with too much femininity Staring at yellow wallpaper
Her heart Open Her legs Open Warm and welcoming Waiting… for phone calls that never come Waiting… for words of appreciation that never come Waiting… for equal pay that never comes Waiting
What What a What a woman What What a What a woman must What a woman must What a woman must do What a woman must do
She must Never settle for less based upon her womaness Embrace the pronoun and power of SHE Know if nothing else that her uniqueness is blessed And a necessary component in the union between universe and people Equal to man At times above human understanding She don't have to lay down for nothing or nobody Her body in and out a wonder The wonder of SHE
"Keep in mind that I'm an artist, and I'm sensitive about my shit"~Erykah Badu
"Maybe...you'll fall in love with me all over again." "Hell," I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?" "Yes. I want to ruin you." "Good," I said. "That's what I want too." Ernest Hemingway (A Farewell to Arms)
"Personally, I don't choose any particular religion or symbol or group of words or teachings to define me. That's between me and the most high. You know, my higher self. The Creator. "~Erykah Badu
"Check your ingredients, before you overdose, on The Cool"~Lupe Fiasco
"He said he’d give her the world, She said she had her own"~Anonymous
"I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal I cannot be comprehended except by my permission I mean...I...can fly like a bird in the sky..." -Nikki Giovanni
"Beware the false motives of others Be careful of those who pretend to be brothers [and sisters] And you never suppose it's those who are closest to you They say all the right things, to gain their position Then use your kindness as their ammunition to shoot you down in the name of ambition"~Lauryn Hill
"Be nobody's darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around You like a shawl," -Alice Walker
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