..from a distance...

when you meet someone that

a. doesn't let you slip away after you begin to squirm

b. speaks honest intentions from day 1

c. shares your thoughts

d. pushes you to produce

love them HARD.
...not just because they are loving you,
but because they simply deserve it.

we started over a year ago.
...and we are still progressively getting better.

i have so much control.

1. don't chase the money.




2. understand that your work isn't for everybody.




3. if the project doesn't resonate with you, don't do it.



4. only showcase the work that you believe is worthy of an award.

tonight was so sexy.

i strolled out of my house to make the
9:00pm yoga class.










the teacher ended class
saying "ummm, that was delicious"

speaking of holy...

today ryan was baptized.

..and not baptized like aunt pam at 7:
7am "mom, i think i wanna be baptized today."

"really pam? why?"

"ummm, its just time" (signal #1 the child is shuckin and jivin, the vague, deep, but not deep at all response)

pause. pause. pause. "well, we'll see how you feel in service"

"yup, i'm doin it"

little pam, goes to church, and sleeps the entire service.

end of service.

mom rubbing me on my back.

"ummm, pam. its call to worship. but i don't think you're..."

"oh no mom. i'm going"

wipe the sleep out of my eyes, hop up. walk down from the balcony.

march to the front. join church.

so sad. i should be really embarrassed by that story.

ryan, on the other hand, is 15. as he told me this morning
"i am a mid-teen. its rough here. i'm not a kid, and i'm not grown."

he's right...he is exiting childhood and growing up.
thinking independently. moving in his own time. and making decisions
for himself.

....
wanna see/hear/feel some more religion?

When I Grow Up from Fever Ray on Vimeo.

i BELIEVE in her.

dey

.

i say world...

i say WORLDDDDDDD....

where is the boo?

setting love free.
setting love free?!

loving enough to let go.
not for you. but for them.
COSMIC! holy even.



....
i'm so special.

i know it.

reversing the universe

is entirely possible.

lets say i didn't like how things panned out the first time.

...i overreacted

...i initiated silence.

...i pretended to be indifferent.


whatever I may have done...I can still go back and push that part of ME aside.


the universe is forgiving.

feel free to go back and change your response.

you're allowed. welcomed even.


good things come when you simply do the right thing.

give good.
give good.
give good.
give good.

love.

i'm getting so good and grown.

it's quite beautiful.

respect.

good voguing makes me just sit quietly.
i feel excited and emotional.

its like watching accelerated joy.

black boots (leyomi) is a vision.

i love her.

deeply.

what's to come...

these children are mine.

and i am so thankful that i can claim them.

they make me curious about who will come out of me.

scriptless from pamela shepard on Vimeo.

head trip.

some days are easier than others.
i'm being dramatic, i digress.

starting over.
most of my days are pretty damn good.
today was a bit frustrating.
just difficult.

i stepped backwards and laid around in
the sunlight from my past.
i applied proof from yesterday to support my
wishful thinking today.
i didn't remember any hiccups or
glimpse any lingering blemishes.

i saw him clearly in my head.
and i liked what i saw.
but he wasn't really here.
just in my head.
and being just in my head is often times
more than enough.
but not today.
today sucked.


......


you all are tired of hearing about it.
so i'll be quiet.
..and just write it on my blog.
my buddy Blogger never judges me.
she/he lets me say whatever i want.

neon dye...

will

properly

conclude

this

project.

and so it is.

lights are blaring.
i'm woke.
and the dead has risen.

He bends down low to reach me.
to hold me.
to nurture me.
to comfort me.
to encourage me.
to push me.

even when i am unresponsive and limp, i am still held.



He gives. i take.
i've got to be more like Him.

.....

i must be patient with my love.

energized.

+ mesmerized.
















the pleasure seekers stumbled into berlin.

....good thing we always carry passports.

all coming from the same place.

this is where i am. and you are not invited. (sorry)




............
her lemon colored dress reminded me of the sorbet that we ate
as children. i felt that she always deserved the final spoonful of our icy
treat. ... and she expected it. if i was as pretty as her, i would probably
expect it too.

grownups always admired her clean clothes and perfectly pressed hair.
no matter how carefully i ate my meals or constantly tugged at my
braids, i consistently looked sloppy when standing by her side. i could
never seem to keep my barrettes on the ends of my hair. i would
find them on the bathroom floor, in the laundry hamper, on the
stoop, in the flower bed. any and everywhere. i would even grab
extra barrettes in the morning, and replace my lost ones
throughout the day. i could never keep up. my plaits
demanded that at least one be missing.

my lack of a polished presentation annoyed me, but i understood
that i couldn't change. stains and mix-matching accessories
were who i was. and this was how i was measured...ranked even.
number two. i am sure that if i were apart of a trio, then i definitely
would be number three. my place was behind.

she wore lemon and i wore mustard.


....

on another note.
its kind of annoying when clients act shocked after
hearing my day rate. it is what it is.
and *WARNING*...with this recession biz...it just might go up.


tee hee.

....
1. i got a haircut. damn dominicans. yay eve (evenareya.com)

2. yoga is metaphoric for how i approach life.

3. he came to town. had a huge meeting. fed me. and flew away (within 8 hours)

4. i want to purchase an easter dress.

5. minding my business. gots lot to mind.

3:09

...arm's length away.

i like these boys.

safe space.

we take so many moments for granted.


nakey. from pamela shepard on Vimeo.

ohhh COME ON!

...i'll just sit here quietly and watch this on repeat.

i am smiling and swaying.

why is this so hard...

is this a purposeful business card? or more of a psuedo-art teaser?


i cannot seem to commit.

and i am asking the world for help.

please help.

i don't even know if this is effective.

whether or not i am trying too hard.

........

it makes sense to me.

the company is p.s.

and pamelashepard.com is my site.

simple. right?

granted, it lacks my title: stylist

+ my direct contact: number + email

BUT...all of that information is on the site.

should i assume that one would want to see

my work first?..which will require them to

view the site.

BUT what if they have already seen my work...and

just want to have a quick contact card for my info

on hand.



hmmm....

i live for mystery...(but i also need paychecks).

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

according to monique business cards are "very 90's"

and they will be obsolete in no time at all.

i'm at about hour 3,453

my self awareness is at an all time high.
i literally can feel my when insides shift, and after
taking a quiet moment, i can pinpoint
the source of my mood change. in that
next second, i actively choose whether or not to sink
deeper into my oncoming spirit, or to dead
the disturbed uprising.

i am proud of this consciousness.

.....

self sabotage is real.
and fear is so powerful
that its best to not believe
in it. just make it a
myth. singlehandedly, fear
slows down my movement.

on two different days this week, i had the thought
"i don't want to be a stylist. its too much."

the responsibility is too huge and
the expectations are too daunting.

the thought was fleeting, but surprising
nonetheless.

......
i see it. i see where this is going.
and i am thankful for my sight.

...
tonight someone posed the question
"how does one tap into their potential"
i immediately thought .."you try"
and then you try again.
and then you try better.
and then you try.
and then you try again.
and then you try better.

and then there comes a point where trying
transforms into doing. you are no longer
attempting but properly executing.

trials elevate into commitment.
......

for me to become a great stylist, malcolm
gladwell says that i have to dedicate 6,547
more hours of work. i'll do anything malcolm tells
me to do.
..anything.

opening up.

i say seasons.



he says ascension.



for that alone i love him so much.



.....

don't attempt to understand us.

this memory is for keeps.

i said i wanna go somewhere.
he said montauk.
jim...kate... and me?!
it'd been a fantasy of mine for over 5 years now.
i happily complied.

.....

at twenty five

my body has changed.

i am more aggressive.

twitterpation hit me..and boys exist again.

i have discovered blueberries.

a fruitful season shift took place.

i am more self aware.

my family gets it.

my hands and eyes speak.

this heart has regained its proper posture.

babies DIG me.

i enjoy lying in the light.

i partner in precious friendships.

things have clicked.

i finally began to work. up until now i was either playing or asleep.

......
i am a quarter.

and i still have something shiny and promising.

we all do.

tropicana commercial

i was called in to assist for the tropicana commercial directed by peter arnell.
....its a big deal. this is my second commercial, but my first on
this level. andre leon talley is good friend's with the director, and was
present for the rehearsal fitting. (he liked my personal pull for the
yoga concept AND he liked my eyebrows...go figure).
i worked hard.

but i always feel like i can go even further.
be a bit more proactive and be prepared for the next.
.........

"ask your charming assistant, "smiley" over there, to go
pick up the margielas from bergdorf"

her sarcasm was comical...i wasn't smiling or even remotely
charming. not that i was the mean jerk in the corner
with a furrowed brow...i just wasn't performing.
...i was working.

its impressive to me how many of these people in this
industry work through performance. they work
with performance.

i am now understanding that my presence takes up a lot
of space...and that even in my subconscious (probably, more so
in my subconscious) i am affecting people.

i live in my head and show my thoughts.
sigh...i told monique that i have to force my presentation
at times. if i want someone to think that i am enthused
and excited...then i will successfully relay enthusiasm
and excitement. without a doubt. but its something that requires thought....
remembering.

remembering to smile.
my work persona is so drastically different.
.........

i have learned that i do not get inspired by forcing a look.
i get off on molding one.

a tribute for the ill

oh how

i wish to be

scantly clad

and tipsy

mid-day.

soon come.

soon come.


wide open from pamela shepard on Vimeo.
....

many of my memories shape my dreams.

hedon'tevenknow...

so the other day i assisted on my very first commercial.
as the young assistant i floated in with enthusiasm and
an eagerness to work. careful to not heavily engage in
the socializing on set...but also aware of not alienating
myself...i did my job.

assisting is an art.

you must be efficient, proactive, a problem
solver, able to negotiate, a good listener,
a memorizer, and most of all...capable. but not
so capable where anyone above of you has
been outshined.
overshadowed.
and momentarily forgotten.

that is uncomfortable territory.
(i've been told to watch the old film "all about eve")

i walked in and chuck amos said...
"you're a doll! i LOVE your hair"
that's equivlant to steve jobs entering your office, sitting down
at your computer and saying..."great system...who built this?"

...kind of. i could have presented a better anology...but whatever.

hugs, kisses, hugs, kisses, compliments, bashful smiles, la dee da.

"oh pam...thats the director of photography...he is so dope. his resume is insane...
my favorite work that he is done is with spike and julie dash"

the man standing before me is easily fifty years old.
about my complexion and my height....with a beautifully chisled...but not
intimidating, face. he looks at me, steps forward, reaches
down to shake my hand and says "good morning pamela"

bottom up.
freshly dingy white converse
slightly sagging worn denim (with an incredible fit)
a red plaid button up with a white tee peeking out from underneath
and this trench. the most beautifully cut khaki trench. it had no bells or whistles...just clean design.
his grey and black curls sat under his navy wool hat.

j. crew met yohji.

i've always imagined how my man would age.
he stepped out of my head and stood before me.

....
at the close of the day he approached me with a smile on his face.
he said "tell me your name one more time"
for a second time, i extended my hand to meet his "pamela"

judge me not. but i would happily be his mid-life crisis.

.......
http://xtranet.click3x.com/jobs/Runway/movies/Bet_riprw_30_sd.mov

blame me for the lady in blue.

something i think about...

i often wonder...

if i were another person...

would i notice my work?

......

does it matter pam?

perhaps.

depending on who i was.

painkillers speak.

if i can commit to a company for 2 years. then i can commit to myself for at least two months.

bare minimum.

his tagline reads:

do not mistake temptation for opportunity.

.....

i pray i played that card correctly.

today.

alexander wang actually replied.

...exhale.

my eyeballs have made it a rule...

i now cry at least once every single day.


Fifty People, One Question: Brooklyn from Fifty People, One Question on Vimeo.

a. this must be either park slope or williamsburg...mmhm...neo-bk

b. cops man...its scary. i told kwesi last night...everytime i am out with a man...and we pass cops...i always get tense.
i am generally on edge when i am alone, but the feeling is majorly intensified when i am with a black man.
i always want to walk perfectly between him and them.
i become genuinely scared.
i imagine the worst, and i hate that.

c. white folks and africa... idunnoman... refer back to observation a: neo-bk

d. i gotta get a camcorder.

e. love is a beast. and it still reigns supreme.

ea. she said a "new closet everyday"...YUM. then "breakfast"...she's my soulmate. and on top of it...rockin those COLORS...together forever.

eb. jesse from chicago...curls, touching his chin to think...looking off...sooooo endearing. love him too.

conclusion: people are damn cool.

we roam good.

we talk business.
outdoors.

business meaning: future, plans, ideas, visions, and men.

well...

i only have a strong opinion about the soundtrack and the way the movie is shot.

my eyes and ears were delighted...

borderline tipsy.

oh i am pleased.

this soul of mine is looking good.

at least it did last night.


thanks boy. from pamela shepard on Vimeo.

.......

it had been a while...our time together was refreshing.
i only yelled briefly.
and we found middle ground.
you got what you were looking for...
as did i.
we have the power to make magic.

thank you. and you're welcome.

highlights made possible by their bright lights.

night of january 17th

dad took an abrupt turn to show me the new outer addition on the house.
mom kept questioning how much i liked the renovations.
aunt celeste announced her onset of arthritis and the loss of her hair.
mom smiled and smiled continuously calling us her "negro children"
milan instructed me to meet her in adams morgan
kwesi gave me directions to his home to swing by.
monique got annoyed with my tone.
the perfect parking spot was achieved after 45 minutes
chico left.
i arrived.

chico text the word "chinchila"
milan walked in wearing one
ashland questioned whether or not i was on heroin.
monique and i hugged after my apology.
kwesi bought drinks.

i danced.
we all danced.

came home. ate leftover chili. watched snoop's fatherhood.

.....

evening of january 18th

carm gave me straightforward directions.
monique requested a detour to buy socks.
we pulled into a community that was built yesterday.
carm welcomed us into her massive starter home.
her taste level is high but never too much.
we made a food run.
carmen came to sit on the couch so i could lay on her.
as a trio we watched fantasia barrino's life story.

we went to the airport to retrieve three of my top favorites.
nina. robin. grace.
tasha was at the house waiting for me.
a decent fraction of my family had arrived.
the young grew up a little bit more.

we sat around and played mafia.

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

afternoon of january 19

chico text me to see if i was going
yes.
my sister held carmen tightly upon arrival.
carm squeezed back.
we were late.
a pitstop was made to purchase flowers.
delmar said he wasn't coming because he was out.
milan and ebony glowed as birthday girls should.
hugs and kisses
hugs and kisses
hugs and kisses
oh, surprise, felix was there too.
chico smiled and offered a sweet embrace.
we all ate.
we all talked.
we all laughed.
delmar came.

she said "he is still an important character in your play"
............

early morning of january 20th

seventeen bodies slept in my father's office monday night.
we engaged in the ultimate sleepover, collapsing on
comforters, sleeping bags, and coats. my chunky
knit scarf served as my pillow. i had a miserable
rest, but i still woke up with energy and an awareness.
this feeling set the tone...
my entire day was filled with energy and awareness.

i walked outside into an atmosphere. that cradled
us all in its calm and optimistic spirit.

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

meliha and sasha rock my world.
moreso sasha.

it is a good time to be alive.
it is a necessary time to work.

lets stay woke.

scenario

un.

i get on the train relieved that i only stood on the platform
for under a minute. as i walk through the threshold
of the train doors, i begin scanning the pews,
looking for any gaps. i see one. i sit.
while listening to busta's verse i follow through
with the routine of scanning the faces of my
fellow passengers. no one holds my attention,
so i look down and begin to study my hands.
on my right hand, i have a new scar. the dark blemish
is such a contrast against my brown skin.

"powerful impact BOOM from the cannon"

the song became my soundtrack...and BOOM
was the perfect onomatopoeia for what my eyes
saw next. perfect timing. dude next
to me had on light blue jeans and tims. all over
his pants and boots was blood. lots and lots of
real life blood. some areas were smeared, while other
sections just had drops.

well pam...it may not be blood. it could be paint.
no pam...that aint paint...that's blood.

my eyes traveled up his legs and met his
hands perfectly folded in his lap.
blood. blood. blood.
his hands were dyed red...and dried
blood was caked under his fingernails.
my huge hood interrupted my periphery,
so i only saw brown bloody hands, jeans,
and boots.

oh God.
God....is that blood?

i started looking around to see the faces in my
line of sight. does anyone see this?
is that blood?

"raaaarrrr roooaarrrr like a dungeon dragon"

i slowly pushed back my hood so i could see
who exactly is sitting beside me.
oh...its just a man.
nobody special.
looks just like anyone.
mad non descript.
a plain man...staring at nothing in particular.

okay. be smooth pam. be smooth. don't
be obvious. don't let him know that you know
that he is SUS! let your hood down slowly...
just be cool.

come onnnnn west 4th.
bells chime...doors open...and i hopped up.
i walked to the other end of the car.

damn. that was crazy.
i discreetly lean over to peep back down
the path i'd just walked. does he know,
i know? nah....you were cool.

deux..

cutie walks on the train. warm eyes,
beautiful skin, simple style....cute dude.
i look down before he sees me. canal street.
i lift my eyes, and he is staring at me.
i nod my head and smile.

in that instant...ol boy breaks out in
major choreography. huh? my whole
end of the car non verbally said HUH
in unison. eyes on pam...gettin it.
pop lockin, sliding around poles, playing
a pretend piano....huh?

drunk people are laughing and sober
people are acting like he doesn't exist.
the performance is for pam. eyes locked.

i then close my eyes. and after about 5 seconds
i bust out laughing. i am 60% embarrassed,
30 % surprised, and 10% tickled. i began
to shake my head while staring at my ipod in
my lap.

he is not amused by my reaction and turns
his back to me altogether. with himself as
his muse, he dances facing the door, using
the window as a mirror.

trois...

i am one stop from my destination.
sade has properly calmed me down, and
i am officially apart of the sober folk that
don't see anything.

my eyes are closed...and i feel something
happen. a swarm of people from my left
side all rush over to my right side.
i am now the only person in this section.
i see a man spitting on the train floor.

yuck.

train doors open...the man leaves.
drunk people are laughing and sober
people are looking disgusted. i look down
and i see a puddle of...ugh....oatmealy looking
stuff. ugh. (this is hard to write). but i really
want u to know...that my car was possessed...so
i will tell the whole story.

i then realize that there is one last person
sitting further down to my left. she was kneeling.
sis flings down her bookbag and literally throws
off her coat. (might i add, sis is MAD cute).
dancing man (my ex) practically glides
from the right side, makes "i am so done with you"
eye contact with me along the way, approaches her,
and puts his hand on her shoulder. HUH? she looks up and smiles.

HUH?
HUH?

okay. come onnnn nostrand...my brain is tired.

the train is slowing down.
sis is laughing...and screams..."does anyone have
a napkin?" the train erupts in laugher and she
smiles. dancing man is now holding her jacket...lifts
it up, and shows the chatty crowd all of the oatmeal-like
residue that landed directly on her jacket.

....

i would have quite possibly died. or fought.
definitely one of the two.

nostrand stop arrives.
i exit the train doors. turn off my ipod.
glance back at the window, and a man begins
to bang the glass to get my attention.
harder. harder. harder. i glance up, and he
is biting his lip and squinting his eyes.

hmmmm.

oh, nothing major. just mta by way of hell.

i wish to be his intern

***listen to the story rather than reading it.
the sound of his voice is so...believable.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99172304

this is the epitome of a connector. but bigger than that...a lover.

a big time lover.

.....

i wouldn't ask for compensation.

well...just for some food at supper.

***swoons***

my ladybugs and i shall be together (God's willing) at MY home.
in maryland.
so perfect this is.

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

dmv...i am SO PROUD.