love, tabby cat.

i'm a partially blind, overindulgent, tabby cat.

i should be agile and flexible...
but seeing that i just recently lost my sight...
i'm severely disoriented, and forced
to navigate around everything that jumps into my path.

..no, its not like this chair in this bedroom just
fell out the sky...its been there for years.
but since i've lost my sight, again,it takes
a moment for me to readjust.
oh yes yes, i remember now...two steps
forward, two steps back...
...it doesn't take long for my mind to
recall how to get around.
...with me being blind and all...again.

i eat whatever makes itself available.
i prefer food from the table.
it is what i like best.
but if there is no table food...
i'll scrounge up crumbs from the floor.
...i have to survive somehow...

but when the table food is there...i eat.
i eat a lot.
i eat until i make myself sick.
i always end up sick.

my bedroom has bright white
walls with fluorescent lights.
the light beams run the length of the ceiling.
i can sense when the light switch is on,
i sweat and shut my eyes tightly.
even though the heat is a bit uncomfortable,
it's still pleasurable.

.... i cry silently when the lights are turned off altogether.

i sometimes wonder if i stop eating the table food will i see better?
will i move quicker?

...perhaps i can just remember how i got fat
..how exactly i got stuck in this bedroom altogether?

its good to know how this happened...when this happened...
it'd be nice if i could see myself getting out of this bedroom.

for claude.

she keeps saying that i am hiding from her.
...perhaps i am, but only partially.
it's my physical make up...there are some things
that i honestly cannot change.

it was so weird to her her say those words.
i mean it is obvious...at least i think its obvious.
she has to know that the only reason i breathe is
because of her.
it's her light that allows me to live.
i need her to exist.

she is above me...bigger than both me and most.
its only about once a year where i am forced
to shed skin for her. and she loves to see me naked.
not that she has requested for me to expose myself...i
just get this odd feeling like i will die if i don't.

it's as though my soul is begging me to be real with
her...real with myself. and during this time i am simply
quiet and still. this is when she chooses to listen
the hardest. she listens to me...and the best that
i have to offer her is my blank and empty silence.

in no way am i puffed up or adorned.
its just me...and she listens...she treasures me
honesty...which apparently is only heard when
i am silent.

the fact that she respects anything i do is an honor.

its not that i ever intentionally wish to hide from her...
i guess it just happens. perhaps i remember that
she has seen me naked...and i can't even stand seeing
myself naked. i'm ashamed. so i suppose i try to cover
what i don't like about me...and that is quite a bit.

what i don't get is how she seems to love every inch of me.

she is the sun.
i am just a tree.

you better lose yourself in a moment...

its not by happenstance that they're my friends.
usually birds of a feather certainly do flock together.
...granted, i may be the runt bringing in the rear, but
i still am apart of the unified progressive movement.
we fly.

.....


http://www.redbullbigtune.com/
he won first place


http://www.cutandpaste.com/events/
he won second place



i love one dearly, and i am enjoying learning the other.
...champions for NYC competitions...crazy!
...its been a good week.
and i am truly inspired.
when moments come...it only means anything if you're prepared.

i continue to pray for my discipline.

i just slapped the hell out of Confused...

she stays wearin those same rainbow colored overalls with elephant gray shoes.
she can't pick a color, so she wears them all.
and her feet are literally stuck in neutral.
its a sad thing to watch...
so she got slapped.

i decided that its up to me to get her moving.
us being so close and all.
so i gave her some physical contact.
slapping is more effective than a push or a shove.

it sends the message that you're serious.
and i am.

neon is to sex as purple is to love.

its not so much the color purple,
but more like that color purple.
this purple is special!

it demands a smile on my face. looking at it makes
me hungry...i can taste it when i see it. the energy
becomes electric, my senses are engaged.

george clinton worships this purple.
it becomes absolute sin when dropped into a black backdrop.
catherine malandrino agrees...she used the colorway in
her new fall/winter collection.

perhaps times have changed...but no crayola
box i ever owned (and i went up to 164) hosted it.

i always know it when i see it...i feel better...
and soon after, see better. i'm not so sure if
its been captured by food dye.
..maybe fruity pebbles have a matte version.

if it is satin, you may get aroused.
rayon...all out dirty.
it really is how i imagine good sex...

just like prince and appollonia.

mamicita

i LOVE her.
i had to love her because she chose to love me.

i told her that she is BEAUTIFUL.
she ducked her head, fell into
my thighs, and wrapped her arms
around my hips.

i was in motion, and she moved with me.
she had completely collapsed into my
body, and walked with my rhythm.

i rubbed her back and thanked
her for the open affection.

i needed and appreciated her love.
i am better.

my phone kept chiming every minute or so.
i think.
i turned over trying to avoid being fully
lifted out of my sleep. not too long
after, i opened my eyes and intensely
stared at myself in my stainless steel
lamp. as badly as i wanted to shut my eyes,
something wouldn't let me.
while frozen, i heard a man scream
"AYE nigga, you need to jump on that hoe...
i NEED you to jump on that hoe!"
i still hadn't blinked.
my shiny nose had become hypnotizing.
i closed my eyes.

by the time i had opened them again,
they were already filled with tears.
the sound of a gunshot deeply startles
me. i mumble a prayer, and now i am
fully awake. the clear and perfunctory
cell phone ring reminds me that i have a
text message.

i sit up...i have on no pants. the shorts
at the top of my dirty clothes pile suffice.
my cell phone reads 4:13. only a number sent me the
text message...not a person...no person i know.
there is no pre-programmed name that i am
already familiar with.
"hey beautiful. i want to link up with you.
late morn/non brunch good tomorrow?"

well, this number identity sent the text at
3:16am, so tomorrow is today, and because i
really have no earthly clue as to who this
person is...i figure that i won't respond until
my brain is working.
...brunch sounds so good.

i stand still for a moment staring at my closed
door. my nerves are uneasy, and i don't feel
alone. i turn to look behind me...long sheer
pastel (softly glowing the dark) dresses hang on my
closet door. there is no movement outside of
my two fans turning from right to left. as i
turn back around, i open my bedroom door.

i can't explain what type of foreign realm i crossed
when leaving my bedroom and entering the living
room. my sense were heightened, my stomach felt
empty, and i don't recall feeling my feet
touch the carpet. i stood both silent and still
for a moment.

shoooo...shoooo...shoooo...

the blinds were down, so only about a quarter
of the bay window could be seen out of.
i immediately became fixated on a woman
across the street.

shooooo...shooooo...shooooo...

the movements of this tiny woman were superhuman.
everything was accelerated. she was spinning from
left to right, and sometimes in complete circles.

shoooo...shoooo...shoooo...

she had on a black knee-length jacket, and her
legs were bare. with each twirl, her
black trashbag brushed the sidewalk.

shoooo....shoooo....shooooo...

a big part of me is totally fearful to turn my
head to my left. so i continue to watch her
from outside my bedroom door. i quickly
rationalize that if i don't look left then
something is going to unexpectedly scare the
shit out of me...potentially harm me.
begrudgingly, i turn...
my eyes adjust to the dark abyss...making
out bar stools, bathroom doors..the familiarity
of my home.

-silence.

i had only turned my head for about two seconds.
i looked out of the window anticipating
the twirls of my personal dradle. the street
is empty. it was only two seconds!
i run over to the window, bend down under the blinds,
and lean on the windowsill.

no one in sight.
no sound of a trash bag brushing the sidewalk.
i stand for a couple of moments patiently
awaiting her return.

for the first time since i was awakened, i
felt alone.

she couldn't get over the "tightness" of it. she
was always amused whenever i washed it...begging me
to let her watch it dry.
...what am i? hottentot by way of the black hair follicle?

i am a black girl with nappy hair. i really do try
to wash my hair when she isn't around...
but more often than not, she is lingering...
i think she pays attention to when flakes start to
surface.
its so weird...somehow her odd behavior is making
me not feel normal.

but i am normal. dammit. i work a normal job
with normal folks, where we take normal hour
long lunches, and make it a point to complain
normally. why is she so captivated?
bi-monthly, i anticipate two hours of annoyance.

"wait...its drying too quick. re-wet it"
..."so its always been this way?"
"its crazy...this really is two different
heads of hair in a matter of minutes"

we were cool.
we are cool!
real cool!
together we wish demise on all patriarchy...
smoke blunts and eat cheesecake....
joke about how we were going to explore being lesbians
with one another...
we even knew each other's bank account info, depositing
funds whenever the other is in need.

she understands my thoughts, and i take the time
to listen to hers. i genuinely care.
her rhythm is different, but i knew that she
enjoys moving her limbs. she is free...
always. and i know that she is supposed to
be...always. i appreciate her for who she
is, and who i want to be.

i love her. i love her hard.
...we are sisters.
but somehow she always makes me feel like
an attraction when it comes time to wet my hair...

i've come to loathe what it takes to accomplish
a clean scalp.

i don't trip when her long yellow stringy
strands are everywhere in my apartment.
i'm used to cleaning up stuff that is out of
place...no biggie for me.

she is my pusher.
she does her job and does it well.
i am always being escalated and elevated.
she takes me to higher levels...


i love and admire her so much that its okay
that i hate her only twice a month.
i figure that's pretty normal.

family values

the man that i love is black.
he refers to himself as a "country
boy from alabama". he is the hardest
working person that i know. his mother
is a retired schoolteacher, and his father was
a postal worker. Just to keep busy, his father
chooses to run the early morning route for the
local paper. they are good people that raised
a good man.

and i'm a good woman. although my memory
of them is faint, i think my parents gave me
a pretty solid foundation. i moved to the states
at the age of three. quite confused, i left behind
my beautiful young mother. she was my loyal playmate...
and she loved everything about me.

the most vivid
memory i have of us is her brushing away my black,
curly bangs out of my eyes. she would always jump
back and cover her eyes as if she were being blinded.
she'd scream that i was too beautiful to stare at.
i would jump on top of her struggling to force her
hands down. "open your eyes! look at me mother! i am
not too beautiful". she would giggle and grab me...
while tickling me she'd always end the frequent session
saying "you're exactly right, no such thing is too
beautiful. you, my dear, bless the earth".

i only remember that my father had black hair. i think
i have hair like him. my husband adores my hair.

tomorrow my family and i are going back to visit my
original home qatar. i left when i was three, and i
haven't seen my parents in 26 years. they had no desire
to leave, and i was not to return until i got my PhD.
we do keep in touch daily...through letters, and more
recently email. i am their oldest child...i have younger
sisters that i have never met in person. i stare at their
pictures daily. our same bright eyes...olive skin...and
curly black hair helps me to better remember mother and father.
we surely bless the earth.

it's weird, any stranger will know that these people are
my family...whether judging by pictures or in person.
its obvious. i see how my sons look like me, but most
people do not. they look like their dad...he and i
look nothing alike. although sometimes i wish we did.
i want any random person to know that my boys are mine
without having to say a word. it's nice to resemble
who you love.

either way, my parents will be thrilled to see me tomorrow.
i am now a doctor.

God gave me a song.

my father is rich
with houses and land
he holds the power of the world
in his hand.

-

crayola would call her skin sienna.
the most accurate blend from mom and dad.
whenever she smiled her entire body lifted...
she became taller. in exchange and out of
gratitude, you grew too. without saying a
word, her eyes told you everything that
you needed to know. her secrets...her pride...
her concern...when they spoke, you watched to
listen.

despite her foul mouth, flailing and aggressive
limbs, scrapes and scars, courtney's perfect
and undeniable beauty overruled her razor sharp
edges.

strangers only saw a stunning little girl.

....

my father is rich
in houses and land

-

dad's practice was amongst the top.
after buying a spot on old national,
everyone knew my dad was rich.
LOWERY esq...attorney at law
only dad's name on the modest canary colored sign.
he's my dad...so everyone knew that
i'm rich too.

my house was custom built.
dad chose the plot, and we
created our very own neighborhood.
dad. mom. my brother. and me.

6 bedrooms
5 bathrooms
2 stairwells (one spiral)
1 guesthouse
1 apartment
1 pool

that was home. this was my world.

dad taught me the bulk of my lessons outdoors.
i learned to cut the acres of grass just like him.
i practiced outside alone to play basketball just like him.
he even taught me how to cut hair.
i would practice on my little brother's hair...now all the men
of the family get shaped up by me.

mom loved me hard.
and dad was raising me to be just like him.
strong.

....

mom's gone now.
she died not too long ago.
dad had been killing her for a while now.
he's too strong.
yes...she did raise my brother and i...but
its really always been just me and dad.
we yell the loudest (he taught me that).
i trust mom's in a good place.
she was good.
obedient and good.


she whispers:
i've been washed in the blood
of the crucified one
i've been redeemed

.....

it's been dad and me for a long time now.
i am losing more of him each day.
his soul is vanishing...even quicker now.
i know that my brother wants to be anywhere but here.
he misses mom.
and i do too.

the house isn't the same.
scattered, outdated law papers...
a refrigerator filled with leftover takeout...
mildewed bathrooms...
this isn't home.

my father is rich.
and i have no clue where to begin.
but i too need redemption.
i need my mom i barely knew.

the morning after....1 year later

i need to define myself...visually.


rjr said "i let go...and when i do, it's good"
..."i learned how to not get in my own way"
...."but that's my process, it works for me".

okay. i'm pretty sure that this works for me too. ?
it's becoming hard for me to deem the work i produce as "good".
when it comes to me...my judgement is increasingly foggy.

..."i mean i do honor techniqure, but i know my limits"
i don't.
"many of the most formally trained artists must unlearn what their
hands now do instinctively. they have no style".

well this is perfect for me!
i know nothing...so i know everything.
right on track right?
completely and utterly right.
(neither left nor wrong).
it's all right.

its alright.

........
hmmm.

whoa.

....exactly the chosen family i wish to be apart of.

a haiku for you.

her light is blinding...
brilliant colors dance around...
i am overwhelmed.

again.

same man.
different show.

the first time it was raw + pure.
i was touched in a way that i had never
been touched before.
i couldn't speak + tears wouldn't stop
falling from my eyes.
he touched me.
he changed me.

i became a fighter.
my very own cheerleader, believing
that i would change the world.

he did + he touched me...
so i would too.

....
this time the intimacy had lifted.
with us being in a bigger city...
and having more people surround us,
i was distracted.

it just wasn't the same.
i do still feel his tenderness from the first time +
i am changing the world.

...it only took one time.

thank you pierre.

this is probably the only time white women will be featured on my blog.
enjoy!

.

Attraction inspires and influences a lot of what i do.
...or want to do.

i wonder how things would pan out on a daily basis if
i operated around the opposite. reacted from disgust.

....
the same i suppose.

i understand.

it's just me.

i am looking to no one
to be with me every inch
of the way.

it's the pam show.
(the best audience is none at all)

today this clicked.

phenomenal writing.

Spelman, thy name we praise
Standards and honor raise
We’ll ever faithful be
Throughout eternity
May peace with thee abide
And God forever guide
Thy heights supreme and true
Blessings to you.

Through years of toil and pain
May thy dear walls remain
Beacons of heavenly light
Undaunted by the fight;
And when life’s race is won
Thy noble work is done
Oh, God forever bind
Our hearts to thine.

....
two years out, and i will still have fleeting moments that make me miss it all.
i couldn't stop humming this all day.

hmmm... i have chubby hands.

pointing more often may help me slim down.
...or perhaps longer finger extension when giving high fives.

committed.

about two weeks ago i wrote out
my short term/long term goals.
my biggest issue is discipline...
and if i don't correct this now,
then my coming days will be much
harder than they have to be.

.....

how do you place constraints
around something that is
boundless and infinite?
someone watched the sky...
created a sundial...and
formulated a way to tell
time. time was captured.

how do i know time got
caught correctly? granted,
even though the horizon
does seemingly stop the sky...
i still know that there
is more sky out there.
i think i know...

years became days, days
became hours. hours became
minutes, and minutes became
seconds. and this is our
calculated understanding
of time.

lately, nothing about my timeline
is chronological anymore.
just a series of moments
(both small and big).
its hard to recall what came
first...i just know that
it happened (i think). as much as
i passively strive for order
(ha)... my ideas and thoughts
are no longer stringed in a
sequence from beginning to end.
i think of a subject and just
picture a montage of imagery.

its not so much that my memory is
fading...just my concept of time.

hahahahahaaaa.....UR NOT RELATED TO HER!

...and i TOTALLY am.

totally in sync...

so what does it mean that my friend and i
are walking in nolita...and she spots
andre leon talley at a pizzeria?
outside...on the corner...alone?

we walk by.
i get jittery...
i stop...
i revaluate...
i retrack.

i thank and celebrate him in one breath.
i end the brief meeting
by saying "let me touch you...!"
he laughs, and i shake his hand.

andre leon talley and i touched...and agreed.
perhaps this means that my thoughts on
writing in fashion need to be explored.

BIG THANGS POPPIN', LIL THANGS STOPPIN!

.........

less talking. more doing.

do these still exist?

pick up lines are so 80's.
.....

"i have traveled to a lot of countries. i mean i been all over.
and YOU could stop traffic in any of them"

"i'm sayin...ur girls see it...why don't you? i'm feelin u"

"i am starin at these men, stare at you...u got a lot of fans...
can i join the club?"

"aye ma....all these other brothas will let you walk around like this...
but ima be real...u got somethin on ur mouth...its not coming off either...
right on the right side....(i begin to wipe me mouth...)....
OH IT AINT COMIN OFF....its just a lil beauty. that's permanent!"

"u from maryland? i got a wife in maryland...ya know i got TWO wives..."
(wink)

"aye slim and lightskinned...can we make a date...tonight?"
*outside from the lightskinned...cuz we all know i am pecan tan...i kinda liked that.
direct.*

"princess....princess...CAN I WALK WITH YOU? please princess?"

"girl you got exotic lips...like, L'oreal."

"aye...aye...my man over at the juice bar wants u to come over and talk to him"

"shake it. move it. shake shake shake it. move it. aye girl, come over here"

.....
this is the worst of the worst from this weekend alone.
wak one liners...

no worries...mawzie bought me some mace.
ima start shutting men up swiftly.

there are no coincidences...

it is a stupid and unnecessary word.

who else sees this?

so i'm standing on 6th and spring waiting for the bus.
the schedule reads 8:04...my cell reads 7:59.
...so i wait.

it's hot as hell, so i stand over the grates, to let
the wind from below blow up my dress. shifting my weight
from foot to foot i observe everyone that i see.

the trendy couple that brief one another on their day.
the loud, bold kids laughing at the cops.
the brazilian looking guy that hums along with his ipod.
it's 8:00.

this man is tall and slim. he has on a white tee...long
jean shorts, jordans, and an 'A' (atlanta) fitted.
...this is familiar.
which really made him stand out...since this is a uniform of the south.

i watch him cross the street with a hugetattered piece of cardboard
flapping in the wind. as he steps up on the curb, i realize
that this is not a light skinned black man, but a middle
eastern guy. i cannot stop staring.

he walks to the side of a building...throws down the cardboard...
glances at me...
takes off his shoes...
and begins to kneel down.
'OHHHHHHHH...dude is about to pray'.
....and he does.

why here?
why now?

8:03
i stare at this man as he kisses his clever prayer mat...
sits back up...
opens his palms upward...
and does it all over again.

people walk by briefly interested...
and then proceed with their previous paces...
(humming tunes, conversing, or being loud).
my eyes refuse to leave him.
he notices no one.

a nun walks by me.
from watching her back, i can tell that she is studying this young man.

8:05
...this is random.
i begin to stare across the street.
SOMEONE IS FILMING THIS.
i look at the apartment building windows...
scan the opposite curb...
glance into parked cars.
....no cameras.

when i look back at him, our eyes meet.
he nods.
puts on his shoes,
picks up his cardboard,
and jogs across the street.

i wanted to speak to him...oddly, i felt drawn to speak.
...but i kept quiet.

he opens the trunk of a parked taxi,
and throws in the ragged piece of cardboard.
he hops in the drivers side...
and drives off.

8:08
i am growing to love new york.

this goes out to you...!

that's what infatuation is: the creation of an image of someone, without advising that someone as to what the image is.
-P.C. (you should already know by now)

seduction is a skill. a REAL LIFE skill.
to observe a person in action is like watching:

my nephew play chess
an architect sketch
a frog catch a fly
an archer aim...

it is all quite impressive.
real strategy is involved...
i don't think it comes to everyone easy.
some people learn how to carefully dance with others emotions....
and yes...students are amazing.
people that study, effectively learn, and apply inspire me.

but what about that that just know how to seduce?
no practice...just instinct.
wow.

i enjoy witnessing the act.
it excites me.
i can usually tell from the start who will win.
but there are times i am pleasently surprised.

i'm no seducer.
i'm just outright demanding.
(and a 32d)

its tough.

to truly love and live each day like its your last...
you must forget your personal history.
forget yesterday...
don't expect it to be anything like tomorrow.
expect nothing.
experiences may be similiar, but never will
they be the same.
so just act accordingly.
which means don't act.
take things as they come.
each new day is prime opportunity for change.
...if you want it to be.


----->

but what about learning from the past?
how do i learn if i forget?
i don't remember my past.
...it never happened.?

i get it.
but i don't really get it.

bryant park.

remember lunch in high school?
(*ahem...this is montgomery county)

the trust fund kids.
the kids lost in their music.
the fashionistas.
the kids with an obvious future.
the jewish kids.
the dirty kids.
the loners.
the hippies that don't eat meat.
the trendsetters.
the athletes.
the loud/obnoxious intellectuals
the girls that get down...openly.
the elders that peep the girls that get down openly.
the weed heads.
the drug dealers.
the drama club performers.
the bad asses.
the bookworms.
the bible thumpers.


this is bryant park between the hours of noon - two.
just a bigger, greener, prettier lunch room.

temples crash

my body is temporary.
...its not even really mine.
i like my assigned union.

we work.

a change of heart...

i feel better.
this makes more sense to me.

....

i grew up in mt. calvary baptist church.
rockville, maryland.
whenever i visit home, my church family
attacks me with attention. i am questioned
about subjects ranging from my career...
living whereabouts...health...
friends...folks are simply interested in
the updates of my life. the one question
that never goes without being asked:
"you thinkin about marriage? any prospects?"
i smile.
and answer accordingly.
today my aunt ella inquired.
and i responded...
"nahhhh, not really thinkin about marriage.
hate to say it, but no real prospects."
she began to reply and i abruptly interrupted her...
"actually i don't hate to say it.
i'm okay with where i'm at".
(forreal this time)
she laughed.
"girl...don't seek your man.
wait on that and let it come to you"

..........

who fights for love anymore?
who honors It?
who gets and understands love?
who has loved?
that's my biggest question...
what the hell is love?
have i really loved?
my actions make me wonder.

many people that i know are so
organic in their thinking...
...It just happens the way It's supposed to.

why WAIT FOR LOVE?
thats the last thing i want to wait on.
regardless of how It's channeled, to love
is an option. with anything you choose
to be inactive or active. I CHOOSE TO LOVE.
harder.

......

sacrifice.

......

i am supported in my decision.
"the moment we begin to seek love,
love begins to seek us.
and to save us"

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
this makes sense to me.

.......

by the river piedra i sat down and wept
paulo coehlo (always on time)
get into it.

***Moamz, u just definitely got served. bring it!

we're married...

the last picture i fell in love with...
well, we just didn't work out.
THIS guy is true love...
we'll last forever.
watch us.

i want to think differently...

lately my thoughts seem too simple.
i arrive at one solution...but don't
really consider alternate routes.
i am going to start practicing
thinking with flexibility.
bigger.
...my brain is gonna get bigger

........
planning is so smart.
planning is so stupid.

posers

this is so stupid to me...
either it is, or it isn't.
everything (esp fashion)
is so forced and contrived these days.

www.nytimes.com

i know it is in me....

and so this means that i
must take time out for me.
to find it.

....expand my thinking.

"a fool uttereth all his mind:
but a wise woman keeepeth it in
till afterwards"
proverbs 29:11

.....
be quiet.

mawzie rocks!

you'll support if you got any sense.
www.woundedheartdesigns.etsy.com

i cannot shut my eyes.

this weekend i drove a lot.
i have never driven before in ny.
i miss driving.
i dropped them off....
too awake to go home, so i drove
around bed stuy/clinton hill.

when i turned on bedford ave....
i could only see red lights ahead
of me. as i approached every single
light, it would turn green seconds before
i would have slowed down for red.
it was beautiful.
i was alone.
but not really...
somehow, i felt like i was dancing.
and in doing my part, i just had
to trust that the lights would do
their part.
and they did.
it came to a point where i was
cruising down bedford, no longer paying
attention to the synchronicity of the lights.
knowing that everything was right.

...what did this mean?

.hmmm. after turning on gates to return
home....i had to wait at every single light.
it felt like such a long time.
it was a long time.
i would catch lights switch from yellow
to red.
and then wait.
anxious.

.....senseless banter.?
no.

i have ideas and a network.

and its time to work.

honey magazine is making a comeback!

http://www.honeymag.com/modules/realtalk/2007/05/21/imus-rap-and-me/

...spread the word.

spirits go where she goes....

the ones with horns...

pretty.

black girls...

are lovely.
i love and adore my sisters.
.....

lately i have had this odd marriage
of being both remarkably confident and surprisingly insecure.
......

i think i can only get higher.
....but it doesn't have to be that way.
....i hope i only get higher.

.

sleepwalking.

listening to: flaws and all...

i like this man a lot...
and i have for quite a while now.
most everything about him impresses me.
drive.
creativity.
poise.
beauty.
and for about a year, i have been completely infatuated with him.
although our interaction is limited, i am never disappointed.
i've enjoyed (in a floating high kind of way)...every moment
we've spent together.
he studies me everytime he sees me...
almost like he is pleased with each new discovery.
...i pretend to not notice...but i do. and i like it.

i think i'm just flatterd that HE sees and appreciates ME.
...wow.

so again...i do not see him often.
he's busy. i'm busy.
we have completely different crowds...but in this case,
somehow i am Tony, and he is Maria.
(odd, with my background and history with certain types of men
...but somehow this description works for us).

different doesn't translate into bad.
granted...
i wear big party skirts.
he wears chinos.

i'm downtown. (in every sense)
he's uptown. (classic haaaaaawwLUM)

i'm quiet around stangers.
he lives for the attention of strangers.

i'm poor.
he's pretentious.

i'm consistent. (comparatively speaking)
he's spacey.

i know. nothing major. all this can be worked out.
thursday night, a quasi credible source brought up one last difference.
...no biggie.

i like men.
he likes men.?.

hmmmm...
i cry for me to today.
but i fight for us tomorrow.
(do NOT judge me)

........FIN..........

dev's text read:
"i don't just like u. i like u, like u.
that was yesterday. and i am still singing kelis today.
men are so stupid.

...maybe i am too

courtney's text read: i love you. she went to the sky.
my aunt ann is gone.
....

yesterday shawn saw her in his dream.
she was sitting up in the hospital bed
completely restored. "it was hard
shawn...but i made it through."
no more pain.

the only hurt is felt by those left behind...
and this too shall pass.


-give thanks.

mom + aunt ann + courtney

i am sending you thoughts of peace, positivity, and understanding.

....give thanks.

myra is too fast to put up...

"aint nobody's mama thinkin i'm grown...."

ha.

tee hee

LINE dancer...
get it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHFIWSdbwCI

i find it hard to say....everything will be all right (lauryn)

they are two different discussions ending with the same train of thought....something has got to change.

if the first ammendment married the two ideas 1. have some tact (dammit) and 2. live out of love, we would be much further off. i guarantee it.

no. a sports commentator cannot call collegiate champions "nappy headed hoes". and no. rappers cannot refer to hoes as hoes.?
hmmm.
in 2007, we really should understand by now that this country is filled with confusing contradictions. yes, do you have freedom of speech, but you just don't get to say what you want.
get it?
i do.
i'm so embedded in this countrie's thinking that i even agree sometimes.

honestly, if you are not in conversation with everyone you know about proposed solutions to shift the language regarding black women, then you are living under a rock.
right now in this moment, i'm okay with being an American.

....
and then there was virginia tech.

sounds good.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=w4ak23d0ktI

...thanks lex!

yummy.

......

and this cracks me up!

it could just be me

at least once a day, i think people in new york want to disappear.

....these days....

sigh.

hands on education

i told her that i would come immediately after work. since i get off at seven...
i figured that given the time on the subway, i could be to her by 7:30.
...i got there at 7:50.
once in the building, i opted the steps over the elevator.
with this being my first time assisting her, i felt wak for being late.
i clearly wasn't thinking because i walked right past her suite...
"hey sylvia...I'M HERE. so sorry i'm late..."
"okay pamela. i am leaving. the showrooms i need to go to will
close at 8...."
-dammit. i messed up her schedule
"so while i'm gone i have a couple of small projects. i need you
to sew...you know how to sew right?"
i make an unconfident face and tilted my hand from side to side...
"oh by no means does it need to be perfect. i need you to sew this
patch in the center of this jacket".

sounds simple.
looks impossible.
the patch is the size of my head, and the jacket is fur.
hmmm...

"okay, i need you to keep coloring in this section of the
patch...sharpies are over there. and finally, i want you to
experiment with dying fur"

its 7:52.

"here are the three colors. red. blue. yellow. here are
spray bottles. and paintbrushes are underneath the
clothing rack over there. ok...go. i will be back by
8:15. sorry to be so rushed, but i gotta go"

...and she went.
i immediately sat down. it was important to me that
i finished the tasks at hand by 8:15 (pretty impossible).
i began to color the patch...and after rotating between the 2 sharpies
for about 10 minutes, soon after they were both out of ink.
8:11. ummm okay. well i'll just sew it onto the jacket,
and finish the coloring once i am done.
it took me about 6 minutes to decide how to sew the patch...
i had to make sure that it was centered, and securely sewn.
8:24. i place the jacket on a hanger, and begin sewing
standing up. constantly adjusting the patch, and making sure
my seamstress skills are neatly executed. (ha)
the top half of the patch is black, and the bottom half is
white. as i am sewing, i realize that the black thread is
visible on the lower half of the patch...hmmm....
...gotta finish by the time she returns...8:45.

she calls to check on me "they know i'm shooting a film,
so they are staying open for me. u okay?"
-yup
"okay good...see you in a bit"
it's now my goal to be done by 9.
i get over my small black thread, and quicken my
pace. DONE. i lay down on the floor to revive the
sharpies....they lasted long enough for me to finish
my coloring.
...as she is entering the studio, i am on my knees under
the rolling rack looking for paintbrushes.

"wow...u finished!"
yes, unrealistic, overachieving, pam completed
her projects only an entire 45 minutes after the
intitial personal deadline.
"wow...your work looks good. u said u COULDNT SEW!"
i collapse my shoulders and smirk a bit...

"oh this is good...very...OH, you can see the black thread
at the bottom. that's not good. that's awful. oh, you must
redo this"
-...sigh...
"you have to do a blind stitch"
-ok.
"can i show you?"
-please do.

i learned.
i did it correctly.
and we were gone by 9:30.
.......

i believe that i am growing to be talented.
*chills*

i'm tired...

but i do have a lot to say.

my days are a whirlwind.

i WILL blog this week.

in a matter of seconds..

i soooooooo have a job!
and i sooooooooooo like it!
merchandising/dressing/quasi sales (if i was good at it)
in an entirely new environment.
3 days in, and i am SO LEARNING.
deconstructed, french couture...YAY!

www.girbaud.com

(watch fashion shows to see garments-yikes!)

i also got an excited phone call of approval from a
stylist, welcoming me to assist her.
"you were my first interview, and i knew that
i didn't have to interview another person.
you're hungry, you have a solid foundation,
and i know that you will be helpful on my
team".

www.sylviagrieser.com

friday felt good!

......

give thanks

i'm tired

the question is posed...

is it a thorn on a rose
OR
a square peg and a circle hole?

i couldn't give an answer...
...dunno that i care.

www.malsirrah.com

hello,

my name is pamela shepard, and i was so blessed to make it into your show last week. i am a young stylist that has just moved to new york about 6 months ago. i have been working hard to stay focused and not give up my chase as a stylist.
YOUR SHOW MOVED ME IN A MAJOR WAY!
it really spoke to the process that takes place when dealing with love/passion. my faith is big, but there are days where i can get down. constant rejection takes its toll, and can certainly become draining. i applied the labor of love to where i am in my pursuits at the beginning of my career...i understand that this, without a doubt, will take hard work.

i've never had a more beautiful reminder.
thank you.

peace and blessings,
~pamela

...............

Pamela,

Your kind words mean so very much to me... After ten years in this business I am often plagued with similar feelings... But I have recently found my salvation... I owe nothing to "man" only to "mankind"... If you continue to work from a personal place and learn that their is no difference between praise and/or rejection, you will soon see that all that truly matters is the process and the journey... The end result is only the beginning to the next stage...

Stay strong... and stay in touch...

Malcolm

wide awake...

my mom just wants to help.
'i mean...waitressing is a good skill set to have...u wanna look into that?'
.....

a big part of my brain is cloudy.
back when i had a job...i produced great work.
i made it a point to honor my interests, and allot time to create.

now i feel silly. flighty.
i can't commit to one idea...can't articulate too much of anything, and
i now have all the time in the world to DO.

before i moved, many people said the same thing
"stay focused".
my focus is survival.
once that meant making sure i took the time to become a better stylist.
to listen.
to read.
to study.
to write.
to brainstorm.

now this simply means getting money.
by any means necessary.
WHAT HAS HAPPENED?
even in my frustrating hour, God keeps throwing me enough to
keep me in a creative loop.
don't wanna sink. any more.

....

today i realized that im not even speaking to God.
and definitely not listening.
not really.

i am no model...but i like this...

photographer: sarah mccolgan (www.sarahmccolgan.com

just this moment...

rejection is becoming apart of my daily schedule...
i really try not to internalize the "no thanks", and move on...
but i can't right now.
i feel dull.
my heart is heavy.
as much faith and optimism that i SCREAM....
right now feels awful.
it's becoming hard for me to open reply emails.
i just stare at the subject line...mentally
scolding myself for expecting the worst.
...but each time, it's always the worst.
i am broken.
my thoughts are so cloudy...and my focus
is non existant.

i cry because this realityis uncomfortable.
constant rejection....
i keep saying, well if you want something different, try
something different. i'm running out of ideas.
i know what i want to do...
just struggling to get it done.

.....

give thanks.

upgrade...

i am no longer the friend that crashes at THE FRIEND'S house.
got my own....
if we love one another...and you're ever in ny...GET AT ME!

the little ladies...

i actually didn't appreciate her ridiculous sass on this day.

ghanaian beach bunny (MG)

1 month.
monique and sarah...u both have made ny feel even better!

another day...

christmas is for children, and i am no longer a child.
so i just dress up to make it still enjoyable...
it's quite the grown up thing to do!

i'm uncomfortable...

he is selfless.
He appreciates my personality.
hE is adorable.
.he has strong ambition.
h.E remembers what i say.
H.e is local.
HE has a great job.
H.e. is undertsanding.
he. is spontaneous.
h.e. is talented.
.He is responsible.
.h.E touches gently.
.he is consistant.
h.e is upstanding.
.H.e is brilliant.
.he. is a comedian.
.He. knows how to listen.
.He. draws on my back.
.hE. knows music.
..he is encouraging.


..He knows God.
..he doesn't judge.
..HE gets color.

.........................
the goal is one ..H.h.E.e.

i so get this now

"Carelessness kills; complacency is murder." -Proverbs 1:32

simply OFF-FULL!

ha.

note america!

we owe it to ourselves, and the future.
we have GOT to stop being scared of our children.
discipline WHENEVER necessary.
-fin

eff

the venue felt good.
not the most beautiful space i've been to, but it was familiar.
no posers...everyone looked like family...super comfortable.
the deejay was accessible (such a thing of the past), and the
roots reggae had a intoxicating flow. even i connected, and i am
no reggae fanatic.

we got there pretty early, and rushed to occupy the last
available booth. our party of 4, soon became 5, and quickly jumped
to 8. nice people. the kind that you feel like you've partied with
a million times before. no weird first time meeting transitions...
no fronts...just folks comfortable with being themselves around
strangers. lovely.

as the night progressed the small dark space became more and
more full. it reminded me of a high school party...the perimeter
of the room was filled with men posting up. soon the entire
room had men swaying softly side to side. there were a LOT of men.
beautiful men. our booth enjoyed dancing with one another all within
the confinements of our corner.

"he is my favorite"
"who?"
"brooklyn hoodie"
"wow.....(sigh)"

as we laugh and talk about everyone we see...we become more crammed
into our corner as the dancefloor now has standing room only. as i pop
up from the booth, i rise with brooklyn hoodie directly in front of me.

"you wanna dance"
"I SAW YOU TOO!....yes, i would like to dance"

as he escorts me to the middle of the room, i turn back to karla imitating
something i figure i've seen joan do on girlfriends. i turn back grinning and
blowing her a dramatic kiss (so lame i am). we slowly try to find one another's
rhythm. he dances well. with me. he touches the top of my waist, and slowly
guides me around to face him. this man is GORGEOUS! his face is
so nicely put together...i look at him, and he smiles...

"what's your name?"
"pam...yours?"
"saleem" (shutup friends. ahahhahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)
"do you come here a lot? and if so...DO PEOPLE DANCE?"
he laughs..."i used to. i now throw my own parties in brooklyn. i came tonight to scout deejays"
i like how we're dancing.
as i glance over his shoulder i realize how many men are staring at us.
we are literally the only people dancing.

"oh....yea, i don't like attention and we're the only ones dancing. hate to be lame...but ummm"
he laughs again..."c'mon"
he takes my hand and leads me to another section parallel to where i was standing with my friends. he asks me what i do...where i stay...what i'm into...the general 'just meeting' info.
i yawned...
"OH! i'm boring?"
with my head in my hands i laugh..."not in the least...i am tired. i think ima get outta here soon"
"yea me too, but lets exchange info, i want you to come to my parties"

YUP. and i picked him as MY favorite.

"sure"
as he pulls his phone out his pocket, he looks at me intensely...
"pam, ima be real...i have a lady"
what?
huh?
damn. but i PICKED you...and somehow it seemed that you PICKED me...
ego kicked.
"oh. yea. well, you just want me to come to some party. so...yea"
so sad.
as i program my number, i want to kick him for being so beautiful, so nice, so interesting, so gentle, so seemingly interested, and above all, so honost.

"i appreciate your truth"
he rolls his eyes and makes a childlike face that says...'i hate being good'
.....

the next night saleem called.
i too, was good.
i focused him to stay on topic about the party...and that was that.

homecoming...2 (one night. a happy happy night

i'm having posting issues...

homecoming...1

there is a lot to be said, so i will begin blogging soon...just not today

1. i was hating on the 13 year olds making out on the train.....so CUTE. grown, but somehow still cute.
2. i had two AWESOME interviews today. i felt a little shiny today.
3. a partner at a showroom was the old brand director at...are you ready for this..? ....ZOO YORK. fiyah!
4. i honestly dunno if i will make it home for thanksgiving. that hurts. i gotta...just gotta.
5. robelle comes to visit this weekend. my insides are smiling.
thats about it...

so my agenda in these coming days:
-post homecoming pics...
-get to writing FORREAL

ta ta lovers!

dunno who gets the credit....photographer or make up artist...

but i's a glowin!
guess i can't leave out lighting tech eh?
ME LIKES!