Coming Soon! Early Blog Posts & Thoughts: 2/1/21

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

What HE Said: “BLACK WOMEN ARE LOSING INTEREST IN BLACK MEN"

You know the story.. Max is smitten w/Jackie Brown & proceeds to prove it.

First, let me tell you that the Bible says, "Your gifts will make room for you." Here’s why this statement belongs in this conversation.

My daughter is a scholar, a researcher, a scientist. And, an empath. - Like her mother. Congratulations are in order because she’s just been admitted into a doctoral program of life-changing proportions. Not only life changing for her, but for the world. Specifically, the USA. And here’s why.

Since her undergrad days, this young person has learned to interpret and translate information that is evidence based, to help people. Not shocking to me, even though before college, she was a respected lights and sound and stage technician. All through her growing up years, however, it was clear she was extremely thoughtful. You could always expect her rationale. She could always back it up with facts. She was the little child asking adults, “.. but you know what?” From kindergarten into grad school and clear into her chosen profession, her elevated states of learned thoughtfulness is not a fascination, but an experience.

This post is not to humble brag about my daughter. This is a preface to a truthful and entertaining video I am compelled to share and I hope I will and it, will be heard via this medium. A video, not of my making, but, I just happened upon it. And I need to share it in the context of my own evolution as a mature Black woman who is Seeking Max Cherry.

At 2:22am, I finished touching up a creative project, but was still in the zone. When I saw the time staring at me, I paid attention to the vibe of the last five hours of creating. It was an orchestrated score. The birth of my new blogpost playlist, dictated by my current mood, from my new “Living Room.” Before I could shut-it-all-down, my mind was racing and going deeper and deeper, becoming more, profoundly composing what to write about (play) next. Do I want to speak it? Do I want to write it? Do I want to podcast it?

It’s late. I’m tired. What time is it, again? 2:22. Shut it down, Jackie. Sleep with it. And I must have done just that. Seven hours later, a voice in a video speaks a ring of truth. Facts. No lies.

I don’t want to ramble. I’m here to share a message, as told by a young Black man on his YouTube channel. I am not a YouTube junkie, but I do go there for entertainment and news from time to time. All things considered, I don’t think it was random that this video found me.

His roll is a little slow, but it is going somewhere. So watch the entire thing. I mean, if you are a single, unmarried, Black American dude, 25-65, marriage or relationship-minded, it might help keep you from prematurely returning to normal unconscious unawareness. It might not. The dude did not cite academia, but there is indication he and his cohort in the picture inset, studied somethings (of some kind). And I, a fifty-something Black woman of sound mind and body, resonate with most of their commentary. Call it divine intuition. I’m just saying..

I can hear a chorale of certain brothers and sisters finding and unfolding disharmony in this conversation. I cannot help ya'll get beyond that. I can imagine all the social media posts responding to this video originally posted about a month ago. I won’t seek to harvest those. All I can ask is that if you are thoughtful, you will appreciate the message. This is TheShumakeWay and me being supportive, not directive. Watch.

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.

Sunday, February 21, 2021

She Wants Her Husband

Don’t even pretend like you don’t see it. Those lords of two realms. The past and the future. A cluster of wisdom aged to perfection, escaping dead pigment bondage. Strands of silver-gray seekers, revealing her here and her now. Long have been the strands as nights deemed magically wise, with the stroke of a brush. A hairbrush and a dab of styling gel. Laugh out loud at this first crack of b(lack) - of melanin in a sample patch. Bringing on a new identity. A new verse. A new take on life with the loss of an addiction to the youth of her racquetball and bowling days. When she had no inhibitions about most things including selling Artistic Impressions, Annette2 and Mary Kay.. But she does not want her bravery back. Or does she? “Just call me Ava, darling,” she says. She’s a new occupation. Not some withered leaf. So indulge her and overprotect her while she’s still orgasmic and her vision is 20/20 (corrected). Everybody fears death. She never did, though. Paternal great grandmother was the inspiration they’ve prepared her for since she was twelve.. Thighs, and long silver locks forth-coming, they always wailed. Age gracefully. Age beautifully. But she is kind of scared. She doesn’t swim that well. The ice is melting. Lava exploding. There’s no more inland in her dreams. She flies and gets lost amongst others who know more. But in life- awake

Look to a woman whose mystery- is her wisdom, who was never new here, and appreciates stillness and quietness and admires patience. She can feed you well and love you to death.

There is no other woman, here. She is not another woman. There is only this woman. She wants her husband, now.

Anyone can teach you about love.I can make you good at it.

Sunday, February 14, 2021

My Full Sail Story, Narrated for New Media Tools Project, Wk2

A new woman with mauve eyes, lips and cheeks is unbound from people trying to run her life in the background of a concussion. For a while she let them. This is another story of how the Universe releases us from false security.

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

WK 2 EXPLORATION: A STORYBOARD OF VISUAL METAPHORS

I had the task of two things yesterday; housekeeping and this assignment that was due by bedtime last night. The reality is, while tending to home, I totally forgot about the course assignment until about two hours before the deadline. I didn't rush. I knew there'd be no point to that. It is now 6:51a.m. the next morning, and I've just had my first yawn..

This was the best ten hours I've spent completely focused on what is important to me. Sure.. with this injury, I can totally forget to do things, temporarily. Not fun. But what can I do about it? Ask for forgiveness.

Here is my finished project:

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it!

Friday, February 5, 2021

Week 1 Project: My Full Sail Story Expanded | HOLDING UP THE SKY

Women Hold Up Half The Sky, 2019, Jeanine Michna-Bales

SUFFRAGENOW: A 19th Amendment Centennial Celebration Exhibition, Elisabeth Ney Museum

Before I started Full Sail, a traumatic brain injury wreaked insanity and uncertainty on my life.

Albeit a mild concussion, this ghost in my brain was the effect of something unknown and seriously the matter with me for the past few years.

I always thought I wanted to work by day and create by night.

As a single mom, providing was my primary goal, while creating and entrepreneurship are in my soul.

But then, I returned to work as the doctors ordered, and my injury worsened.

Denying my better judgement and forsaking my well-being to be this team player my company needed.

Because of that, I was forced to resign from the harassment of management and their wretched “work or be disciplined” policy.

My patience with them was lost when I opted for self-care over the audacity of corporate oppression.

Because of that, I was losing my creative bent- working with people who didn't care two-cents about my well-being.

Uninterrupted sleep, ER trips, Morphine drips, and antidepressants were daily obligations to survive my new inabilities.

Because of that, a friend sent a link to FSU where she was enrolled, suggesting I consider the Creative Writing degree program.

She’d been the confidant who knew best that creating was the quickest way to my recovery.

Until finally, I decided again, that investing in the cost of art school at fifty, was more rewarding than surviving in the kraken -that is corporate America.

We agreed that even if I got better overnight, the betrayal of my former employer had radically redefined me.

And ever since then, I am focused on my healing, whilst curating the #spiritjewelsofmamashouse photo series, whilst embracing my studies and prospective career in Digital Cinematography.

My network of creative and artist friends inspire me to create, teach and learn - and hold up the sky with purpose.

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

WK1 Exploration: Start A Blog & Tell A Story

Before I started Full Sail, a traumatic brain injury wreaked insanity and uncertainty on my life.

I always thought I wanted to work by day, and create by night.

But then, I returned to work as the doctors ordered, and my injury worsened.

Because of that, I was forced to resign from the harassment of management and their wretched 'work or be disciplined' policy.

Because of that, I was losing my creative bent- working with people who didn't care two-cents about my well-being.

Because of that, a friend sent a link to FSU where she was enrolled, suggesting I consider the Creative Writing degree program.

Until finally, I decided again, that investing in the cost of art school at fifty, was more rewarding than surviving in the kraken -that is corporate America.

And ever since then, I am focused on my healing, whilst curating the #spiritjewelsofmamashouse photo series, whilst embracing my studies and prospective career in Digital Cinematography.

Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.