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!

feliz halloween!

we entertain one another wayyyyyyy too much.

zora told me...no really this past week, she spoke to me....

two things i heard loud and clear...

1. my search for knowledge of things took me into many strange places and adventures. my life wasi n danger several times. if i had not learned how to take care of myself in these circumstances, i could have been maimed or killed on most any day of the several years of my research work. primitive minds are quick to sunshine and quick to anger. some little word, look for gesture can move them either to love or to sticking a knife between your ribs. you have the sense the delicate balance to maintain it.

2. He kept on saying that Negroes did not aim high enough as a rule. They mistook talent for art. One must work. Art was more than inspiration.

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

what i want for me, is all up to me.

not too contrived...just a comfortable energy. first photo credits for off figure styling in a mag.

jewels...

hahhahahahhaaaaaaaaa nina looks like she is in her final pose from a breakdancing routine.

gotta love this kid.

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

90% of those above, i adore. i gotta be a better friend.

lets see if i can do this write (right)

when she came down the steps, she had a lot of bags in her hands.
she sat down beside me and i noticed that she was wet.
weird.

when i emerged from underground everyone started randomly
cursing and sighing heavily.
"son....i hate NY sometimes. i aint neva prepared"
i walked up the steps slower and slower...preparing
myself for what i was about to see.
i watched people hit the top step, and break out into
a run....
should i turn around?
i gotta get home man...

only about 4 more steps to go, and i felt it.
ugh.
i too was wet.
getting more and more wet with each step i climbed.
i then remembered taking my umbrella out of my bag
that morning.
boo.

there he was (again)...this time the girl was asian.

........FLASHBACK........

i see dude every morning.
every morning my eyes DANCE.
his skin resembles pure honey.
and his locks drape down his back,
with golden tips. his facial structure is
chisled...everything works. eyes. mouth.
nose...simply a pleasure to even glimpse.

his style is impeccable. like nothing else
i have ever seen. he is the most classic
trendy dresser i have ever observed.
okay, with that said...

every morning, i feel like he doesn't see me.
his eyes gaze right over the area i am standing in...
almost like i'm just another person.
hmmm.
that hurts. (ahhahahahhaaaaaaa...oh man.)

ego aside...i am still interested.
and i still SEE him every morning.

-
i was standing at the bar.
the drunk woman to my leftt would not stop telling
me how hot the bartender was. the music was
loud, and after hearing her scream this declaration
the 5th time, i chose to listen to the music.
i turned to my left, and he was standing right there.
i froze.
now, this is a big city.
there are a number of parties going on this wednesday night.
why would YOU be here with ME at this indy magazine launch?
...no complaints...
i stood there, and felt him staring at me.
lovely.
YOU SEE ME. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!
i felt someone touch my hand....i turned to my right.
i see the back of his head...i then glance down at my hand, and
see white fingers.
whoa.
there was a petite white woman standing between him
and the bar....she is smiling at me from ear to ear...
i look into her face, glance back down at my hand, and
realize that she is talking to me...
"what do u want me to get u to drink?"
no hunnie. i don't care if YOU see me. him...behind you.
"ummm, i'm just getting water, i just had some wine"
"water? WATER? so thats how you stay so fine?"
WHAT? did u just say 'fine'....NOT YOU! damn.
i smiled, and turned the other way.
moments pass, and i feel someone kissing my cheek...
i turn slowly...don't kirk just yet pam.
IT WAS HER!
i give her a look that relays two messages...
1. do not touch me again.
2. if you are completely crazy, i will retreat.

the first look was louder...she retreats.

okay, this is looking like a dead mission.
i am now simply trying to get my water....
no longer interested in meeting my husband, (not now at least).
he leans into my ear...
"i know u don't think you're getting your drink before i get mine"
YOU SEE ME....YOU'RE TALKING TO ME...
again, i turn slowly...and i bust out laughing.
not sexy. not even cute.
my usual obnoxious laugh.
he joins me.
DOES HE KNOW THAT HE HAS SEEN ME?
LIKE...EVERY MORNING?
hmmm. doesn't matter now.
moments pass.
my hand is being touched again...WHY????????
i glance down, and see his brown hands.
oh.
he leans in again, and the bartender arrives.
curses.
i pull away for a millisecond to order my water.
still holding his hand, i return only to see him
talking to the fresh white girl.
no. no. NO NO NO NO.
you don't know her.
she is fresh.
my water is on the counter...i pick it up with my
left hand. does dude even realize he is still
holding my hand?
i squeeze his hand...he comes out of convo with her,
and returns to me. i take back my hand, and nod
my head as i walk away.
wak.

-
karla and i never ride the train in together.
this morning we met up.
i was anxious to show her him.
universally so, he was no where to be found.
so typical. i tell her about this man daily...
and he is m.i.a.
as the doors shut, he gracefully eases his
body through the door. nice!
he sits down quickly, and does not see me.
no really, due to logistics, he couldn't.
since we are sitting on the same side of the train,
i tell karla to calmly look his way.
dime? agreed!
at my transfer point i get up, and prepare to exit
the train. he glances up from reading, and his
face of sheer amazement and excitement really
does make my day. HE is now smiling from ear to ear.
but u were holding my hand and talking to her.
still wak.

-

i've seen him one more time.
again we were riding the train.
i was seated with my head down reading.
when i lifted it at my stop, he stood a couple
feet away from me grinning.

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

we all crossed the street. wet.
him, her, and myself.
i just looked straight ahead.
this was so much fun at frist....
remarkably, its now getting a bit old.
so what if i'm a hater...
SO WHAT?!

-fin

***yesterday i saw 3 raindrops.
like, saw them, suspended in air right before my eyes.
a single drop. it was dope.*****

a little brown gray haired birdie told me....

"Anything is permissible but not everything is profitable or beneficial for you- sure you can do what whatever you want- but everything is not for your good" ....what a brilliant baby!"
-thank you k.m.

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

yesterday i was told that i am not that good at what i do. it rattled me. but i heard him loud and clear.... "styling is a lot about negotiating...and even more about listening....you are responsible for EVERYTHING in the picture frame". feeling like i already knew everything he said...i stood quietly and listened. today, i want to shoot. today i want to be better at what i do. i will.

today Mr. Clean died...

no one really seemed to notice. most of us continued along our daily routine...
either coming or going. i glanced down at the ground and saw a candy wrapper...
odd.

........
he had noticed me before we formally introduced ourselves.
i think i saw him too. not for certain.
"oh i'm retired...this is where i come to hang out everyday"
his army green members only, and olive green shirt and raggady
pants led me to assume his past profession. however, i chose to
inquire..."where did you work?"
"served in the army. worked as a reserve. worked with the bank,
doing security. and then i did security for this other place that's closed
now."
i know. i knew.
"it all paid off. i got a lot of money, and i am living off of it now. so yea,
in the middle of the day i come down here to hang out.
....ya'll gotta wear all black in there?"
he knows?
"yes sir, i believe that it is policy now."
"i know. you do visuals for mens. saw you the other day"
guess i don't see everyone that sees me.

"look at mr. clean...that man does a good job. a GOOD job.
i call him mr. clean, cuz you never see nothin layin round here..."
"yea, he has an awesome work ethic".
i have no work ethic. none.
he knows.

i told him that it had been a pleasure speaking with him, and that
i looked forward to seeing him again. as i rose, i walked past
mr. clean, smiled, and hoped that one day i would acquire
such self discipline.

...........

we all emerged from underground utterly disgusted.
the air stank.
"GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY"
sorry mam..."NAH FUCK YOU...YOU MOVE!"
she forcefully bumped me of out of the way.
i stood there, stuck, trying to think of my next move.
my eyes were low, watching her boots continue
to hit the pavement. brown popcorn kernals were stuck
on the bottom of her left boot, and a used condom under
her right.
she was so ugly.
i hated her.
she disappeared.

i climbed the remaining steps, and pushed through
people with the guidance of the devil.
my heart was cold. my body was heavy and tense.
i stormed down the sidewalk, seeing nothing but colors
whizz by me. why was everyone moving so damn slow?
i glimpsed his jacket. different shirt. different pants.
he wore his members only on top of a white button up and
slacks. it all looked familiar.

kicking papers, half eaten burgers, dingy t-shirts, and a
trash bag itself i pushed through people to move closer...
it was getting harder and harder to get close to him.
i stood still. screaming at him i said...
"HEY! WHY ARE U WEARING MR. CLEAN'S CLOTHES?
even though there were dozens of people between him and i,
i still felt him looking at me.
"i killed mr. clean. but you already knew that"
............

different space. same time?

last night was the first night i felt at home here.

in these past 3 weeks, i have been moving at a
pace that won't allow me to miss too much of
anything. my eyes are fixated on two goals:

1. getting a full time job WITH BENEFITS...
under the creative umbrella of fashion.

2. staying in touch with the director of
my desired program at parsons, and
continously working on my papers.

it doesn't matter that i don't have a car
to hop in and make a run to see family/
friends. it doesn't matter that i can't
hit him up, and meet him in a matter
of minutes in little 5. IT DOESN'T
MATTER THAT I NO LONGER ALWAYS
KNOW WHERE I AM GOING. it doesn't
matter that i am now the last one to
get the updates that everyone else has
known for weeks.

it's all totally irrelevant.
none of this brings me any closer
to my career and grad school.
however...
being here...being lost....being lonely
does.

..........
last night was dosa's art show.
there has never been a time where i truly
felt like i was 'missing out' on something.
i badly wanted to transport myself to
atlanta for one night by a blink of an eye.

the four of us walked about 2 blocks up.
all of last night reminded me of my
fondest moments from atlanta.
the music. the sweat. the beautiful people.
the art. the creativity. THE LOVE.
for the first time it all felt right.

the timing was personal.
(or at least, i took it that way).
~thanks.

balance (mark 25)

within me...i host both good and evil.
according to the st. savin, its not that we're not all tempted...
its simply how we control ourselves.
today i wonder how much i am in control.
what is fueling my motives right now?

is this whole mission 'by any means necessary'?
yes. no.
......

i have been given gifts.
one being my vision.
i see beauty.
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'
i get this. i truly get this...i try hard to live by it now.
i may not always feel like
being honest. it can be exhausting,
annoying, painful, even hard.
so i guess i choose not to look.
but when i do look, i always know what
is beautiful and what is honest.

....i gotta stop being lazy.

.........

lately i have been seeing myself everywhere...
in everybody. this city has a different pulse.
the other day, we played a game where we
people watched and guessed whose occupations
were what.
he said librarian, i said stripper.
he said bum, i said professor.
he said investment banker, i said investment banker.
so i sat and thought...i wonder how people
may receive me. what would they guess i am?
....there is NO telling.
being here, i feel above no bad situation...but then again
i feel worthy of everything grande. i can glimpse
a blind homeless person and see me. i then can
turn and watch the stylist on set, and see myself
again. i am not a very judgemental person...*ahem*
i try not to be a very judgemental person...but being
in this city i feel like i understand how any person
got to where they are (or seem to be). it all seems
justified.

..........

"i have two pockets, each contains a piece of paper with
writing on it, but i only put money in my left pocket," he
said in reply.

"on the piece of paper in my right pocket, i wrote:
i am nothing but dust and ashes. the piece of paper
in my left pocket, where i keep my moeny says:
i am the manifestation of God on Earth. Whenever I
see misery and injustice, I put my hand in my left pocket
and try to help. Whenever I come up against laziness
and indolence, I put my hand in my right pocket and find
I have nothing to give. In this way, I manage to balance
the material and spiritual worlds."

............
update: paulo coelho asked that i marry him.
instinctively, i smiled and SCREAMED. i do.
:)

excuse me miss...under 18 or over 18?

i really believe that i am not getting older.
i still see myself rollerskating down the street in a thunderstorm at 12...
i see my mom, sister, and i sleeping together in the BIG bed at 14....
i definitely still dance the same from 'little feet' days...that was 8...
dorthea and i screaming at one another at 10....
me being a serious athlete at 16....
wearing thick head bands and wayyyy too many bangles at 18....
SAME ME...now at 23.
i am 23 years old.
wow.

when coming up from the subway, a man passing out flyers asked...
"are u under 18, or over 18?".....i should have simply hugged him.

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

true faith brings peace.
no complaining...no stress....no worry...NOTHING.
just quiet peace.
this feels right (for once).

the hoodie game...

....we start early....