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October 15, 2010

4 Page Letter

I'm not sure if I told you all about the mini revolution I've started, but I am actually really excited about it. A few months ago, my dear, dear friends Jill and Alex took me to the African American Museum in Exposition park.

PAUSE: Let me just take a moment to say something about Exposition Park... Whoever came up with the concept for this "park" is a GENIUS!!! For the mere cost of 8 dollars for parking, patrons get access to 5 museums, an IMAX Theatre (for an additional fee, but still very fly), a rose garden, a butterfly garden and hours and hours of trash talking about the U$C campus and now empty football stadium (haha)  if you are anti-U$C as I am. Go Bears. There are also plenty of vendors around for all of your thirst, ice cream and hamburger needs and with the Southern California sunshine, there are plenty of photo ops throughout the day. I mean, really, you can't go wrong!!

AND WE'RE BACK: So we went to Exposition Park and I was absolutely blessed to see an exhibit by the great American artist John T. Scott. (http://www.leh.org/john_scott_art/johnscott_front.html). This man was amazing. He worked in absolutely EVERY medium you can think of. I mean honestly. We saw pieces from Acrylics and oil paintings, to giant wood carvings, to sculpture, steel, calligraphy, glass blowing... you name it, he did it. Absolute GENIUS!!! As we were walking through his exhibit, me with journal in hand of course, taking notes and writing down ideas that were inspired by this man's talent, I came across a series of encased boxes that held letters he had written to friends over the years. He created his own paper (Right...) and of course used the beautiful calligraphy making each letter a priceless work of art when really all he was saying was, "I'm really excited to be visiting you next month. I can't wait."

As I paused at each letter, reading his thoughts it hit me that letter writing is truly a lost art. Everything is instant, and yes, I am quite guilty of being utterly obsessed with all things Google, but what happened to the days of writing letters? I made a decision right then and there that I was going to bring this back. I sent out a message to my people on Twitter (which by the way I have reinstated @BeeNCeedotcom if you would like to follow) and started my own pen pal relationships. I got really inspired and creative and started dying paper in coffee and tea, mixing in food coloring, using special scissors and cut outs, I mean, I have gotten fancy with my letters. I had to go out and purchase stamps because honestly, who uses THOSE things anymore (and Sidebar #2...what happened to the Black Heritage series? I still have my 34 cent Langston Hughes Stamps and am waiting to get my hand on a Zora, Nikki and Alice stamp. Come on USPS...let's make moves..) and got to work.
After going through a few rounds of back and forth with my pen pals, I have discovered a few advantages to this process...

   1. I have to tell you, there is definitely a certain joy that comes with taking the time to sit down and compose a letter. I find myself be a lot more honest and open when I do this and I just love the feeling of pen and paper in my hand.

   2. The older you get, the less interesting your mail becomes. Matter of fact, there are many days when you breathe a sigh of relief because your mailbox is empty, but maybe that is just me. Yet, in the days of bills, credit card offers, election propaganda, magazines that pile up until you get sick and finally have some time to read, it is a wonderful feeling to open your mailbox and find a handwritten letter waiting for you. The sight of that alone can change the course of your day.

   3. If you are a creative nerd like I am, you begin to enjoy the challenge of creating something different and new each time you send out a letter. It is actually fun and it is special because in a very quiet way, it shows the person you are writing that you care.

Each time I talk to someone about my idea they get excited. A friend of mine sent me a text asking me to send him a letter and I went next door and knocked on his apartment and handed him a post it. Don't do too much sir. LOL! But the point is, we need to bring this back. We are losing our history by depending so much on technology. Where would be be without the handwritten diaries of former slaves, or the letters between Zora and Langston? Take a minute and think about that. It is very important to find ways to preserve who we are now for future generations. With that said, I encourage you to call a friend that you haven't seen in a while and get their address! It doesn't have to be a long letter, but send them a quick note and let them know you are thinking about them. I'm telling you, it will become your therapy before you know it!

Peace Y'all and remember..."The Revolution will NOT be televised..."

Peace Y'all
B

October 14, 2010

Stress Relief....

Stress Relief....

    There has been a lot going on lately. I mean a lot. Every day it seems like I get knocked over the head with some phone call, email, text message (any surprise that I am totally anti-technology? Its really a defense mechanism, but I digress...) carrying some sort of announcement that invites the familiar ting of anxiety into my day. Most of these announcements are little things, but little things pile up and before I know what's happening, I'm popping Tylenol PM every night just to get to sleep. Its a vicious cycle I tell you.


   As an artist, I have learned about the power of escaping the woes of the day through a book, movie, or music, or some other creative art, so this time I decided to take a stab at a new book.  Thanks to my obsession with all things Alice Walker, a second shot at reading Meridian seemed like the logical move to make. The book is brilliant, I am totally excited about it, but 10 pages in, I realized this story about Black Women and the Civil Rights movement (one of my passions) was agitating the stress ball in my stomach and maybe this wasn't the best time to dig my heels into this particular book. It happens.

Yesterday as I was sitting in the copy room at work, waiting for the lamination machine to warm up, So I could make my super sexy "Where is Brandelyn" pinwheel...

 

my eyes landed on one of the class book shelves and much to my delight there were all three copies of the Diary of A Wimpy Kid Series. I excited grabbed the first book, read the first page and knew that this was exactly what I needed.


First off, look at the cover...




The exaggerated stick figures alone are enough to insight giggles, but the story line is actually entertaining and certainly brings up a sense of nostalgia from those awkward days gone by.

    I found myself trying to read pages to friends, but only being able to giggle my way through the retelling. I wound up staying up way later than my bed time (yes, I said bedtime. You try having to get up at 5:30 every morning and see how you do without a "bedtime") (and yes I do realize that this means I'm getting old, but I get evil when I don't get to sleep, so really it's the small thing I do for all humanity.) just so I could stay up to read. Of course here on day two I am more than half way through this 'novel with pictures' but I have to tell you, it was just what the doctor ordered. I showed a section to my coworker who had a scowl on his face and he instantly started laughing. I am learning that life really and truly is about the little things. Yes this book was written for second graders, but honestly, sarcasm and comic relief is for all ages. I'm glad I picked up this book and encourage you to do the same.

Long live BOOKS!!!

Peace y'all!
B



 


October 13, 2010

Closing the Cycles (From Paulo Coehlo's Blog)

This is so important to me. So Relevant. I had to post this. I hope it touches you as it did me. 

 Closing the Cycles...

One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through.

Did you lose your job? Has a loving relationship come to an end? Did you leave your parents’ house? Gone to live abroad? Has a long-lasting friendship ended all of a sudden? You can spend a long time wondering why this has happened.

You can tell yourself you won’t take another step until you find out why certain things that were so important and so solid in your life have turned into dust, just like that. But such an attitude will be awfully stressing for everyone involved: your parents, your husband or wife, your friends, your children, your sister. Everyone is finishing chapters, turning over new leaves, getting on with life, and they will all feel bad seeing you at a standstill.

Things pass, and the best we can do is to let them really go away.

That is why it is so important (however painful it may be!) to destroy souvenirs, move, give lots of things away to orphanages, sell or donate the books you have at home.
Everything in this visible world is a manifestation of the invisible world, of what is going on in our hearts – and getting rid of certain memories also means making some room for other memories to take their place.
Let things go. Release them. Detach yourself from them.

Nobody plays this life with marked cards, so sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Do not expect anything in return, do not expect your efforts to be appreciated, your genius to be discovered, your love to be understood.
Stop turning on your emotional television to watch the same program over and over again, the one that shows how much you suffered from a certain loss: that is only poisoning you, nothing else.

Nothing is more dangerous than not accepting love relationships that are broken off, work that is promised but there is no starting date, decisions that are always put off waiting for the “ideal moment.”

Before a new chapter is begun, the old one has to be finished: tell yourself that what has passed will never come back. Remember that there was a time when you could live without that thing or that person – nothing is irreplaceable, a habit is not a need. This may sound so obvious, it may even be difficult, but it is very important.

Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life.

Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust.

Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And scene. 

Peace Y'all

B

Writer's Off

    Yesterday was a day that I had to call in for reinforcements. Every writer knows about the creative archenemy, something we call "Writer's Block." Recently I had been introduced to something far more deadly than a simple block. I was introduced to a new phenomenon called "Writer's Off." It crept up on me slowly, quietly, I honestly didn't even see it coming. I found myself starting books, but not finishing them. Now, this is not an abnormal practice for me and my A.D.D., but this has never happened with a book that I was actually enjoying. The Biography of Alice Walker captured my attention from word one, but 9 weeks into the book and I'm still not finished. I should have known something was amiss.

    Next came my attempts to write. A few weeks ago I made the grand announcement that I was going to have a writers weekend and I was going to be shut off from the world. I turned off my phone, shut down my internet, moved the dining room table into the living room (for energy shift) and sat down to work. A few hours of nothing later, I wound up laying on my living room floor, underneath the dining room table that I was too lazy to move and slipped into the Season one DVD collection of Ugly Betty. (I still honestly love that show!) When my circle asked me how writing went... I told them. I managed to start a bunch of ideas, but nothing quite formed itself into an actual piece, but I was already on disc 2 of the series. That is progress!
    I always get really frustrated in these moments because they feel so solitary. In reading Alice's book,

 

all the writer talked about was how Alice was constantly writing. Everyday she was producing first drafts of brilliance and then moving on to the next. I wish i had that power because I literally have an entire shelf full of copies of the manuscript for Everybody Plays the Fool

 

 in my living room because that poor book went through at least 8 drafts before it saw the light of day. I always have ideas flowing through my head. Concepts that I am jotting down on any scrap of paper I can find, hoping to capture it before I completely forget. But lately, I have not had the creative gumption to make the piece happen. I have brand new spiral notebook full with false starts and stutters and eventually I think I just gave in and lost myself in those dang Ugly Betty Dvd's.
    Somehow, someway, something sparked in my yesterday and I realized that I needed an intervention. I called my brother who can be General Patton when I need him to because I knew that if there was anyone on the planet who could whip me back into writing shape, it would be him. True to form, he gave me exactly 10 minutes to write a 400 word review for a project he was working on, then gave me until 11 pm that night to complete a short story. The challenge lit a fire underneath my butt and got me moving. I was able to complete both assignments with an hour to spare and it felt great. The short story is definitely a draft, but I have a draft and it feels fantastic. I put that extra hour to good use and did some character development on another story idea I'm playing with and even thumbed through my book of baby names (best 25 cents I ever spent at a thrift store) and came up with names for my new characters. I spent a few minutes this morning perusing the website of one of my new favorite artists

 

(http://www.sarajofrieden.com/) (I mean Really?! How amazing is this?!) and felt my skin begin to tingle as I allowed my imagination to fold itself into the colors and swirls of the paintings. I suppose just like exercising I am going to have to ease my way back into a routine, but it feels so good to have gotten started. I can do this, I will do this because if I don't, I will have General Patton breathing down my neck, and forcing me to get in to shape.

I would also like to dedicate this blog to my love Chereese. Thank you for reminding me that I have a responsibility to write. Its not about me. =D

Peace Y'all
B

October 11, 2010

Most Days

Most Days

 

Most days I prefer to lay low. Quiet. Cat-like. Pausing in the shade with my toes in the sunshine concentrating on the ebb and flow of my breath; in and out, in and out, in and out. Expanding. Growing. Blowing. Flowing with the wind. Taking in each moment… slowly….

 

Most days I like to sit somewhere and read. Mostly books about people I wish someday to be. Real people, fictitious characters who move me with their tales of triumph and defeat. Characters and real people who are smarter than me and who make bad decisions. Real people and characters who teach me how to make better decisions and what happens to a dream or a life when you don’t. In these quiet moments I learn from them. Stretch myself into their situation and pretend, grow, then bend my way out of reality into a space where I am big enough to fly....


Most days I like to be quiet. Not silent, but quiet. I don't want to listen to music, or be on the phone. I don't want to turn on the television or stare at the computers screen. I don't want to listen to the conversations of other people, i just want to breathe. On days like this, I want to be in control of my environment, sit on my living room floor and just be in a place where I can think about the before and then the after, heal from the wounds and mend the scars of the day. Start fresh. Reset. Be. Here, in this space, I can touch my imagination and understand what it means and how wonderful it is to be me....


Most days I need to be touched. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes me feel warm. Safe. Giving. The opposite of the touches that float toward me daily. Touches that are designed to remove, snatch, take. I need more. A touch that is rare, sweet, precious like a black pearl, like the days when I would lay my head in my grandmother's lap and she would read to me while rubbing my head. Yes, this is what I need. A head rub, a hand held, butterfly fingers on the small of my back, protective, respectful, loving, necessary. A lifeline, a moment in time that connects my spirit to someone else and brings me down from the clouds where I have been floating...hopelessly...


Most days I am searching for something and it wasn't until this very moment that I realized the very thing I'm searching for... is the freedom to say no for the simple fact that I love... me...

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