tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-140654312024-03-07T18:30:26.402-08:00still grooven"...when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, i hope you dance..." oleta adamsstill groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-84915561497614585842012-03-26T22:38:00.013-07:002012-03-28T14:33:21.155-07:00<strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 153);font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">GOOGLE ME... <em>or not!</em></span></span></strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">About a year ago, I went to <strong><a href="http://google.com"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">G</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">o</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);">o</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">g</span>l</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">e</span>.c<span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">o</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">m</span></a></strong> and typed a close relative's name into the search field. To my utter shock and admitted disappointment, I scrolled through a lengthy array of provocative photos, articles, links and videos that I thought painted a limited, bawdy picture of said nameless relative. What I found out later was that rather than the fear and vulnerability I felt on said relative's (SR's) behalf, SR is rather proud of the display and the notoriety gained from it.<br /><br />As a person who loathes judgment and the implications of it, I hated that my visceral response to what I'd found was so negative. My <em>tsk-tsk-tsk</em> and shaking head over the idea that SR had carelessly let the world in on some of the most sacred and intimate spaces of life. Even further, my response went against every fiber of my being that tries not to perpetuate judgment, only to realize my own painful truth... that I REALLY hate to be judged. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I guess that's a sort of universal truth, hating to be held under the stage clip of some not-so-objective lens. That's pretty ironic coming from someone who, on a semi-regular basis, offers her own tidbits and perspectives that people openly form opinions about; occasional poems and other moments of naked wit and (dare I say) wisdom via cyber missive-to-self and anyone-who-will-read-them-blogs. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Finally, and probably most pointedly, my experience with SR made me wonder who, if anyone, has ever gone to Google to specifically search, or "google," me... other than ME, that is. These days, it would seem that the answer to that - otherwise hypothetical question - would be... perspective employers!<br /><br />For several unnamable reasons, I am posting this. In part, as an experiment. But mostly, this post is in response to a number of graduating seniors I know (and mentor) as reiteration and proof that neither (A) the profiled photos of their bare, flexed abs, flanked by flailing, wagging tongues, nor (B) the statuses that have more four-letter-words than Lil Weezy’s last hit record, are the best ways to make a possible first impression on prospective jobs. (A “hoodie photo" of myself and my family may not be best either but I would hope the national concerns of late make it permissible and understandable… but I digress.) </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since my verbal counsel seems not to suffice, I offer Kit Eaton’s 2009 article, “<strong><a href="http://www.fastcompany.com/blog/kit-eaton/technomix/if-youre-applying-job-censor-your-facebook-page">If You're Applying for a Job, Censor Your Facebook Page</a></strong>,” from <a href="http://www.fastcompany.com">FastCompany.com</a> (written long before any of my students could tell a tweet from a twit; before any of them even knew there was a Facebook). Some of the stats may be a bit confusing, but, give the article an entire read through… then, when we meet again, tell me what you think.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Until then, my beloved myspace-facebook-tweet-blogger darlings, <strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">keep your clothes on</span></strong> in your profile pictures, <strong><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">hope for world peace </span></strong>in your status updates, <strong><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">keep your public social networking private</span></strong>, and <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);font-size:130%;" ><strong>keep your job prospects… prospective.</strong></span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Onward and upward...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">xo</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-19006441375812771182012-03-15T12:19:00.004-07:002012-03-15T12:36:45.952-07:00<a href="http://profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/41569_310698505654340_147410574_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 126px;" src="http://profile.ak.fbcdn.net/hprofile-ak-snc4/41569_310698505654340_147410574_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><b><a href="http://africam.berkeley.edu/p4p.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6600;">Poetry for the People: 20th Anniversary Celebration!</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">UC Berkeley African American Studies Department presents June Jordan’s Poetry for the People A 20th Anniversary Celebration Featuring P4P extended family &</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span><a href="http://wordwoman.ws/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Patricia Smith</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> [National Book Award & 3X National Poetry Slam winner]<br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Friday, March 16, 2012</span></span></span></b></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">An Evening of Poetry Featuring STP Alumni, including<br />Xochiquetzal Candelaria<br />Ariel Luckey<br />Terry Taplin<br />Sandra Garcia-Rivera<br />Milani Pelley<br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Shia Shabazz Smith</span></span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />Lateef McLeod<br />Alicia Zakon<br />Javier Zamora<br />Hosted by P4P Director Aya de Leon<br /><br /></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;">7pm @ 145 Dwinelle Hall (UC Berkeley)<br />FREE! Wheelchair Accessible. All are welcome!! </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">Saturday, March 17, 2012<br />10AM-10PM </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />A day of conversations, workshops, panels, performances, open mics, booksignings & honoring the memory and legacy of founder June Jordan for current & former P4P poets, STPs, Bay Area artists & activists, teen poets, aspiring writers, slammers, page poets, novelists, community builders, poetry lovers, etc.<br /><br />Patricia Smith will give a talk in the afternoon (space is limited!)<br /></span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">An Evening of Poetry<br />featuring </span><a href="http://wordwoman.ws/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Patricia Smith</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> + P4P & Bay Area Poets & artists </span></span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#009900;">Saturday location:<br />UC Berkeley Multicultural Center<br />1st Floor MLK Student Union<br />near corner of Bancroft & Telegraph in Berkeley </span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#3333FF;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Conference is FREE!</span></span> Wheelchair Accessible. All are welcome!!<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Evening Performance featuring P4P & </span><a href="http://wordwoman.ws/"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6600CC;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Patricia Smith</span></span></b></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> is priced as follows:<br />$20 suggested donation<br />$15 college studens w/ ID<br />$5 youth 18 & under w/ ID (ltd qty)<br />HALF-PRICE TICKETS TO SHOW FOR CONFERENCE PARTICIPANTS.<br />AVAILABLE ON SITE @ 1PM!!<br />Poetry for the People “a political movement anybody anywhere can join, imitate, or improve…a literary movement no one can stifle or erase.”<br />–June Jordan </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>For more information, please go to </b></span></span></span></span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/PoetryforthePeople"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#660000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>www.facebook.com/PoetryforthePeople</b></span></span></span></a></span><br /><div><br /></div></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-80684048554662757452012-03-05T14:37:00.002-08:002012-03-05T14:58:27.039-08:00<strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;">put a leash on your dog!</span></strong><br /><br />a coworker recently informed me that 2012, the year of the dragon, is supposed to suck for those of us born in the year of the dog. born on the "day of the top dog," in fact, my year so far is starting to make sense. so, the direction given to those of us dreading the oncoming year is to lay low, hang in the cut, breathe, and get ready. sounds like pretty good advice,<br /><br />so, that's what i've been trying to do... well, as much as possible... so i will be ready. for what? i'm not exactly certain. (for more ease/for a better payday/for all of the torents to smooth themselves and for the sails to swell with promise... perhaps...) i feel like i've done too much work and prepared for far too long for my opportunity/"my luck"/ my blessing to be much further than around the proverbial corner. that said, i'm trying to remain present. trying to pray, read and listen; meditate... here I go...<br /><br /><em>if only this woman sitting next to me would PLEASE stop smacking! SHEESH! </em>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-41172516796403676482012-01-05T19:49:00.000-08:002012-01-05T20:31:06.498-08:00<p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#330033;">52 things in 52 weeks<br /></span></strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>first off, let me say... HAPPY NEW YEAR!<br /></em><br />anyone who knows me, knows i am a lover of lists. i don't abide by them always but there's something comforting about lists of things to be accomplished and acquired... goals lists, grocery lists, task and to do lists (honey-do lists), wish lists, "40 by 40" lists, favorite moments lists, favorite songs lists, people i admire lists, favorite food lists, best books lists... even list poems. they are easy and they inspire me; they keep me moving onward and upward.<br /><br />so, in the spirit of lists, i am writing my first blog of the year... you guessed it... as a list. not a list of resolutions. more like a list of 52 things i hope to do before year's end. things to help me break out of my daily routine and awaken the muse in me. in 2011, i don't feel like i had enough <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">writerly</span> moments. this list is meant to inspire the writer in me throughout 2012. i invite you, dear reader, to adapt it, or create your own, to see how much of it you accomplish by year's end.<br /><br />(numbered, but in no particular order... here we go...)</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></p><br /><ol><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">write a list of 52 things I can accomplish this year (good start, right?)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">read a blog (see, you can already cross one thing off of your list)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">start/write a blog (it will get the juices flowing)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">(PRIVATE)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">read a screenplay/work in your favorite genre</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">finish writing a screenplay (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ScriptFrenzy</span>)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">enter a writing contest</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">read a book of poems (suggestions?)</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">read the autobiography of an author or a memoir</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">see 12 movies (1/month)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">mentor a young person</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">write a letter to 6 family members and mail them</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">write using a prompt (suggestions)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">read the newspaper cover to cover</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">take a dance lesson</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">visit an art museum</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">go to a poetry reading (venue suggestions?)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">read at a poetry reading/open mic</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">parle</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">francais</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">avec</span> ma <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">soeur</span></span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">paint on canvas</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">write a short film</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">shoot a short film</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">get a massage</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">get a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">mani</span>/<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">pedi</span></span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">eat sushi</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">eat <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">tiramisu</span><img class="gl_bold" border="0" alt="Bold" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" /></span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">swim in an ocean</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">walk barefoot</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">ride a bike</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">buy a cozy robe</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">attend a professional conference</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">apply for a fellowship</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">skip</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">sing</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">(PRIVATE)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">make bookmarks</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">make a carrot cake from scratch</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">take a writing workshop</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">lead a writing workshop</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">make a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">tshirt</span></span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">create/order business cards</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">buy some red toms</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">get a new journal that i LOVE</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">new collection of pens</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">acquire 12 classic movies</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">begin a collaborative project</span></strong></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">pitch a project</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">volunteer for a day</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">work freelance (builds muscle)</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">write at least a poem/week during poetry month (APRIL, which is also <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">ScriptFrenzy</span> month so...</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">journal, journal, journal!</span></li><br /><li><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">learn <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">tai</span> chi and incorporate it into my daily/weekly schedule</span></strong></li></ol><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">WHEW! that wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, though it was as, if not more, liberating! the tasks in bold type feel a bit more intimidating than the others for whatever reason, which means <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'm</span> likely to dive into those heart first. (my habit is to stare fear down and poke it's eyes out, no matter how much my knees knock, my stomach moans.) </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">so, this is it. if you write a list, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">i'd love</span> to read it. not just so i can knock item #3 off of my list. i want to be inspired.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;">onward and upward, beautiful people...</span></p></span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-10872972008209507772011-11-20T21:49:00.000-08:002011-11-21T23:43:22.102-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYbCCn4BALHkzYyhG9ilD2FCqcUEGIvxeS9sLc93pDO_tlEj2AEspwBVvTTApTqDh6mm0sOSPqO-vxP1kibLSxUUDhn1qHbHfCZEoC7ULCKN64lhDn6kFfYrVGnuXRjtYa1vG/s1600/headoff.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 144px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677349194610028034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYbCCn4BALHkzYyhG9ilD2FCqcUEGIvxeS9sLc93pDO_tlEj2AEspwBVvTTApTqDh6mm0sOSPqO-vxP1kibLSxUUDhn1qHbHfCZEoC7ULCKN64lhDn6kFfYrVGnuXRjtYa1vG/s200/headoff.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,204);font-size:130%;" >what are you pretending not to know?</span></strong><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><em>my real-life homage to Nikky Finney</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#cc6600;">NOTE: rarely will i write on the same topics for <strong><a href="http://www.torchpoetry.org/">Torch</a></strong> posts (forthcoming) and my person blog (here) but there's neverenough praise for Nikky Finney... *sigh* ... this telling is more a personal account. besides, as you can see, i haven't written in this space in nearly two years, so, whatever gets it going again, right? anyway... here we go...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">during my first year at <a href="http://www.cavecanempoets.org/">Cave Canem</a>, one of my most memorable moments of that unforgettable experience was the morning i sat with </span><a href="http://nikkyfinney.net/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Nikky Finney</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"> in the main room on the campus of cranbrook in bloomfield hills, michigan. my life, on the whole, was secretly in turmoil. but, for Nikky's sagacious eye, the chaos was evident in everything my poems weren't saying. "what are you pretending not to know," she'd asked me in that way that requires you to pay attention... real attention. the abridged version: that moment was the beginning of the beginning for me. it was the first time in my life that i realized i wasn't fooling anyone, not even myself.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">her walk with me that first year was so generous and care-full and loving and supportive and intentional... she is a REAL student's mentor, the every-person's poet AND a poet's poet. she is never simply art for art's sake; writing to hear her own voice. she is dedicated to the articulation of life itself through art, through a lens that is neither colored nor distorted by the truth; rather, enhanced by it. </span><br /><br /><a href="http://nikkyfinney.net/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>Nikky Finney</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>... I salute you.</strong> asking myself that question every now and again requires me to do the real work my life deserves when things aren't quite working out. and let it be said that if i could put my husband and our little prince in our car (with the assurance that it could actually make it outside of california), take the time off of work without pay, pick whatever flowers led us to you and lay them at your sandled-foot so that you'd know what gratitude looks like, i would. i walked for three summers under your tutelege, then with <strong><em><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,102,0)">Rice</span></em></strong> and <strong><em><span style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,255)">The World Is Round</span></em></strong>. From "The Errand Girl...", </span><a href="http://nikkyfinney.net/books.html"><strong><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Head Off and Split</span></em></strong></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"> has been the collection I've lauded from the moment the </span><a href="http://www.booksinc.net/Alameda"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Books Inc., </span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">clerk handed me the receipt and i pulled away the front cover. you are what brilliance looks like. <strong></strong></span></span><a href="http://www.nationalbook.org/nba2011_p_finney.html"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">2011 National Book Award</span></strong></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">... ahhhh... it's about damn time. (the world can no longer pretend not to know!)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">OCCUPY EVERYWHERE! by divesting from "routine" and supporting indie book shops, businesses and local artists!</span></em></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-5008375689815003222010-02-25T12:43:00.000-08:002010-02-25T12:51:10.862-08:00<span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >where i've been</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" >wanna come?</span><br /><br /></span>It's been a while since I've posted here but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing. My journey toward 40 has officially begun. I've been chronicling my goings on in "Notes" on my Facebook page. I decided to write 40 blogs/notes. I've posted "40 things I want to do before I turn 40." I'm crafting my "40 ways to change my world" list. I am on item 30 of the "40 things I want for my birthday." I have become 40-obsessed. Consider this your invitation to become my FB friend and take a look.<br /><br />Until then, onward and upward...<br />abrazos y besos,<br />shia</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-19338981078183718902009-10-01T14:23:00.000-07:002010-02-25T12:53:28.720-08:00<span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><strong><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:180%;" >40 by 40 Kick off:</span> </strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><strong>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME</strong></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >so today is my <strong><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">39th birthday</span></strong> and for the first time in my history of birthdays, i am feeling NO anxiety about it. i didn't NEED the hoopla and parades i'd <em>required</em> in previous years. no anxiety about turning a year older (cuz 39 is the new 29). but about feeling unrecognized, unloved and insignificant. mine is the third in a string of sibling birthdays (9/29, 9/30... <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><strong>10/01</strong></span>). and not that anyone or anything intentionally made me feel that way. mostly i attribute it to birth order (middle child sh*t) and the reality that by the time my actual birthday came around, i had already shared a cake, gotten a gift or had a party on a day other than mine. all of that said, today, all of the scary energy around my birth/day has been squelched. <span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><em>Allahu Akbar!</em></span></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >ONWARD AND UPWARD...</span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >recovering from a night of seafood and salsa lessons/dancing in DC (perfection!), today i woke up 39. my husband brought me my signature bowl of corn flakes, in bed, to tide me over until the eggs and grits brunch he worked up as i chomped down. </span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >i have since tended to amir's needs (kisses, bathing, feeding, diaper changing), eaten brunch and a late afternoon homemade-chicken-salad-sandwich snack, showered, dressed and worked out a "culpa" issues in my latest screenplay. and i still feel wonderful... which in my mind means i am closer to <em><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">MIND-body-SPIRIT fabulousness</span></strong></em> than i've ever been.</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >so... i have become obsessed with the number 40. i've also become obsessed with lists. since here begins the countdown to the big 4-0, and to increase the odds of fabulosity, i am crafting my list of <strong><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><em>40 things i hope to achieve before i turn 40</em></span></strong> <strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">("40 by 40").</span></strong> everything from getting <em><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><strong>fit by 40</strong></span></em> to <em><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><strong>40 ways to change the world</strong></span></em>. (anyone who's ever called my cell to leave a message knows i'm on a mission.) </span><br /><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><strong>some things on my list:</strong></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >write 40 poems by 40 (poetry month will help but... well... you know how it is...)</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >lose 20 pounds in 40 weeks (yes, i still have 20 uninvited pounds)</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >write 40 "love" letters and mail them to 40 friends</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >give 40 pampering gestures to myself</span><br /><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" >doing 40 crunches a day (may not sound like much but by 10/01/10, it may help turn this 2 liter into a 6 pack)</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >fugure 40 ways to show gratitude to people I love</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >and much, much more...</span><br /></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >wish me luck. offer me tips. please drop in for support. i'll need it.</span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ></span><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" >abrazos y besos...</span><br /><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" >shia</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-73097119001488251732009-04-14T21:59:00.001-07:002009-04-14T22:36:45.303-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">i need a poetry prompt.<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-weight: normal; font-size:13px;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">anybody? anybody?</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div>okay, so it's the middle of National Poetry Month and (simultaneously) ScriptFrenzy month. and i've not written one single stanza or scene. but hopefully that'll change soon. this pregnancy has at the very least kept me inspired and creating. let's see... i've painted... purchased fabric to make pillows (still pending)... i sing more in my private moments... conceived several short films and at least one concept for a tv series... been to tens of live music concerts (of course)... and hand-ribboned, glittered, and glued baby shower invitations. so my creative energies have been fueled, on fire in fact. just... no writing. i'm being merciful because, well, i <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">am</span></span> gestating. and i guess that's excuse enough and creation enough for one human being, eh? but, if you, dear reader, have any suggestions for jump-starting my writing efforts, please... share! i wanna get at least one poem out by month's end. prompts? anybody? anybody?</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">abrazos y besos...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">shia </span></span></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-16421302545491067602009-01-26T13:15:00.000-08:002009-01-26T13:26:58.857-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">i NEED to blog! </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i NEED words. i need this moment like i need community. and for now, this coffee shop full of regulars is what i've got. the friends i clamored to call upon arrival are still too busy with their lives to make a moment. and i think they fail to realize how much i need connection right now. so, i'm here. again. finally. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">it’s been a long while since i’ve written anything worth calling a poem or even worth reading (not that this is, but you know what i mean). so this is a cry for help, by beautiful people of bloggerland. i know life has been happening to everyone but lemme give you the quick and dirty:<br /><br />first week of september, we returned home from EXCELLENT summer in oakland… boy! this jetlag is kicking my butt. i can’t seem to get outta bed… what? it’s not jetlag? IT’S A BABY? forget the wedding plans for May 22, 2009, let’s get hitched on the cruise... happybirthdaytomeOctober1st… birthday BluesCruise to Mexico… first day on cruise, miscarriage... first day back, doctor tells me there's still a baby there! WOW! on with the plan... THAT AFTERNOON, got married in a beautiful but brief ceremony at the county courthouse on October 13th with new sis-in-law jumping and clapping with joy… looked for job, looked for job, looked for job in Austin… NO JOB… baby’s growing… moved December 20th… HAPPY NEW YEAR… It’s A Boy! January 12th… we remember/will never forget Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, January 19th… O-BA-MA… O-BA-MA!!! January 20th … TODAY, we get cable!!! Now, if we can find a good, low-cost internet service, it’ll be all good.<br /><br />for those who aren’t into the long read, you can bail here but i would be grateful for a writing prompt and any suggestions for artist communities in oakland. (where my peoples at?) for those interested in the details…<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">THE MOVE:</span><br />in december, i officially crammed my car with my most valuables (my children, my sweetiebubu, my kitchenaide mixer, my dvds and an array of other necessaries) and made the move back home to oakland. damn it’s good to be home. even further, i moved here post nuptials… yes, i’s married now! (i’ve recently become a “facebooker” so for those of you who’ve connected with me there, you already knew that… oh, and that i’m expecting. (yes, a baby!) to my only daughter’s chagrin, a baby boy to be exact. and for those of you who’ve been stopping here over the past few years, you’ll remember at least hearing of my beau, “sweetiebubu”… eh-hem… ronnie. q, my new-awesome-stepson, and my sweeties are really excited about their new brother. but the reality of my not having a job and, therefore, not being able to afford life in texas with my children, but away from my husband, was a sobering one. <br /><br />hmmm… the upside of it all is that bliss lies underneath the work that is marriage and the tasks we are undergoing to create a home and space for baby smith in ronnie’s digs. the downside, as determined by the ultra conservative williamson county, texas, is that my sweeties must stay in texas unless/until their dad and i can agree to allow them to move with me. and you know how agreements with exes go. so, until texas, i mean hell freezes over… i mean, until we can agree, they live there for school and here, in oakland, on the off times. right now it’s working out. they are happy, healthy, and adjusting well. THAT is what matters. <br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">THE MARRIAGE:</span><br />needless to say people are still mad at us. everyone thinks we had some big or secret ceremony and left them out. not the case, folks. we were amid a sea of tough decisions and it just came down to a spur of the moment agreement that we’d invite our loved ones to our one-year anniversary celebration. then we can do all the celebratin’ at one time. our baby. our new life together. the long-awaited consummation of our love. stay tuned.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;">THE BABY:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia;"><br />the sonogram technician said there was no doubt what he was cuz he kept flashing all of his business. i’ve been talking to him since about keeping his parts private, lil exhibitionist! he’s stirring and kicking lots these days. ahhh… motherhood. we are dancing in the joy of names right now. life is amazing and to try to name it seems impossible. we'll see what he inspires...<br /><br />okay, i’m officially tired and not flowing well anymore. so i’ll end here. i will say though that, while i love seeing my family and being my husband’s groupie from gig to gig, i am in search of community here. i haven’t written a complete poem in months and the screenplay i was excited to be working on is stifled by research. so anyone reading this, consider this a call for your suggestions/advice/help/guidance/WHATEVER. Where are the good artist communities in Oakland/the Bay? And don’t forget, if you have a writing prompt for me, PLEASE help a sista out.<br /><br />baby’s kicking and my head is hurting which means time to eat. til next time beautiful people…<br /><br />**mwah**<br />shia </span><br /></span></span><br /></div></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-54036572652217449142008-12-15T21:10:00.000-08:002008-12-15T21:15:18.626-08:00<span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">it's your party charlie brown... i mean </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">shia shabazz...</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">it's the end of an era...</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">no more hot-ass summers. no more searching for familiar faces in seas of strangers. no more "red state." in less than a week, my husband will be here to cart me and my children to oakland to officially begin a new life. <br /><br />but i have to admit that i am a bit disillusioned. after 12 years of living in austin, i had a going away party/baby shower and was TRULY stumped at the fact that several people who i thought were central to my life and community here didn't show, didn't call... just didn't. this is not a personal indictment of anyone. it's just a rant. and maybe through the pain of this feeling of loss/this rejection, the Universe is making it easier for me to leave. and it is. today i am more focused than ever on getting Home, to my husband, my father, brother and nephew, and other family and friends awaiting my permanent arrival in oakland. but i didn't REALLY believe that i wasn't loved here, did i? <br /><br />for many reasons, it's a complicated move for me and i was hoping... no i was needing to share love and time and all of the ins and outs of my new life with the people i have shared many of my years with here. that was supposed to be the night of farewells and love and bon voyage...<br /><br />okay, okay... when i take the ego and hurt feelings out of the equation, the reality is that i DID share the night with people i Love and people who Love me. i am trying to be super-human here and understand how busy this time of year is for people... blah, blah blah. i have tried to focus my energies on the people who DID come and show their love and regret for my departure; the people who made me realize i WILL be missed, that my presence made a difference, an impression and that my absence will be felt. i am GRATEFUL for the belly rubs and best wishes. i can't wait to share the new life and news from the Bay as my new journey unfolds.<br /><br />to all of the other people whom i somehow lost along the way, i am grateful for the years, months, days, moments we shared and every lesson i've learned. i KNOW i am a better person for the past and learning more and more from the present. you are in my heart and prayers always.<br /><br />for those who continue to walk with me, i look forward to all of the beauty that is to come, up close and from afar. to our journeys, our challenges and triumphs, our setbacks and our moments of fulfillment. you help me to realize that it's all enriching, it's all Love and it really is all good.<br /><br />onward, upward and westward...<br />shia</span></span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-78924303092143109892008-07-22T21:28:00.000-07:002008-07-23T12:00:34.795-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">what am i here for?</span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">blatherings from the unemployment line...</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">what are we here for? that's a question for God. not you, dear reader. i imagine you are pondering the same question in some way, be it a physical asking or a cellular one. so i invite you inside it as well. what are </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">we</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> here for?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">my most immediate response to that question is... to create art as a manifestation of love. i know, i know. but really. that's what i believe</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> i'm</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> here for. the thing is... as i try to keep my art more than a murmuring in the back of my mind, a more blaring question becomes apparent. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">how am i supposed to create art if i can't pay my bills?</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i've been unemployed for a month so far and it's been okay... kind of. i've been looking for a new job since the day i became unemployed, if not well before (truth be told). most of these days, i've felt relaxed, held up by the pats on the back and the patronizing "don't-worry-you'll-find-something's". but i feel like i've submitted more resumes than aol.com sends out promotional CDs and still no REAL bites. my joblessness is finally wearing on me. it's the first time i've not had a job and it wasn't my choice. and i know lay-offs happen all the time, but since college, in my fifteen years of working, i've never been... well... jobless.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">and today, what feelings of respite i may have had transitioned into indomitable restlessness. i</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> found out that the one job i was waiting to hear from; the one i thought i was UNDOUBTEDLY suited for, decided they were" seeking a candidate whose experience more closely matched the job requirements." (recruiter jargon for "thanks but no thanks.") i try to convince myself, using all of the wisdom and cliches i can conjure, that something better, greater, more fitting is waiting. (right?) when one door closes, a window opens. </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">blah, blah, blah...</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i play them like mantras over and over again. i affirm and re-affirm myself in the face of this rejection. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> (i'm smart, talented and darn it, people like me!)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> but it's tough. because the reality is that i read every day about the looming recession. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i could barely afford gas when i had a paycheck. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and milk, on some days, is more than $4 a gallon. with no income, these things can feel a bit more paralyzing than the passivity of "such is life."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i'm fighting the malaise of unemployment, trying to feel empowered in understanding the jog trot of the determined but unemployed. on a daily basis, i create my workspace of a bistro table in the WiFi-friendly cafe up the street where I peruse craigslist.org and monster.com, online classifieds and the seemingly endless pages of company job listings. i am in search of the job that's searching for me. but today, with the news, i felt a shift.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">i went into this search a month ago, resolute that i would meticulously make application, regarding only those positions that deserved my time and attention. the chosen ones would be looking for the kind and caliber of professional i believe myself to be. they would offer benefits, a open, good-natured working environment and a good work/life balance. the kind of company you'd find at the tops of lists like </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">best places to work</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">highest employee satisfaction</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">places you'd trade going home for</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">. (the offering would look so good that the salary didn't require a mention.)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">but resume upon resume, rejection upon rejection... hourly pay is starting to sound pretty good. and, well, i can put off going to the doctor until Obama gets in office, right? who needs vacation time? 401k? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">what am i here for? to create art as a manifestation of love. so i am working on the unfinished screenplays. listening to lots of impassioned art through live (and recorded) music. i'm working out and dancing when i can. and in this moment, i am creating art with every coffee shop moment. with the call and response of job solicitations and answerings. with the joy and pain of acceptance of situation and rejection of failure and circumstance. making lemonade is an art. mixing the sweet and sour to make something delicious. i am reminding myself of it daily/hourly/minute-by-minute.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">onward and upward...</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-27985097930443161112008-06-19T15:33:00.000-07:002008-06-20T10:42:23.602-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#009900;">"Green"</span> vs. <em><span style="color:#ff9900;">Grown</span></em></span></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:100%;color:#3333ff;">Two friends, allergies and an SUV</span></em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br />In the middle of a recent allergy attack, a friend called, excitement brimming in her voice. Thirty seconds in, after obligatory salutations, I learn that she’d finally traded in her 1991 now-lackluster luxury car for… an SUV.<br /><br />“It’s got all of the bells and whistles,” she gloats. “It only gets fourteen miles to the gallon, but it’s fly!”<br /><br />And then there was silence. NOT the response she was trying to elicit.<br /><br />She revived me with a few echoing “Hello? Are you there?’s”. The diplomat in me did her best to resume in support of this friend’s very grown-up purchase, with a few insincere “good for you’s.” But, to my chagrin, she didn’t buy it.<br /><br />“I know it’s selfish of me but it’s my time to have a little something for me.”<br /><br />As a single mom and a product of American capitalism, I completely understand her plight. It’s a symptom of the larger dis-ease from which we all suffer, and are complicit; the myth that our well-being should be measured in "stuff"; the size of our cars, the number of flat-screens in our homes, the amount of money spent on our children’s birthday parties. We succumb to bask in the bling and blah-blah-blah of waste and materialism.<br /><br />Be forewarned: The non-judgmental diplomat in me isn’t writing in this moment. It’s me. The flawed and frustrated newly realized green freak. And I don't think I've become an official "tree-hugger" yet (though I'm working on the badge). Don’t get me wrong. The desire to be as fabulous as the next girl still lives in me. But there came a point when I found more importance in the future health of our aging bodies, our children’s health and the state of this planet than riding in a vehicle that has more TVs in it than some homes in East Oakland.<br /><br />But she, like many of us, can’t see how every car-buying, recycling, car-pooling decision she makes has the power to impact the world.<br /><br />I want to shake her through the telephone lines. Beg her to take a moment and think about it. Think about the environmental changes that have happened in the last several years. In my case, when we moved to Austin, Texas, in April 1996, it was touted in <a href="http://www.moneymagazine.com/">Money Magazine</a> as one of the top ten cities in the country “to be young”. While the economy in Austin is still slightly better than many other American “big cities,” these twelve years later, the music capital of the southwest is now more likely referenced as one of the country’s top places to be a heat-exhausted allergy sufferer. But the increased numbers of coughing-sneezing-head-achy allergically affected has increased from sea to shining sea just as the numbers of allergens has increased.<br /><br />Global warming and allergy suffering a coincidence? Not according to the <a href="http://www.nrdc.org/globalWarming/sneezing/fsneezing.pdf">Natural Resources Defense Council October 2007</a> report. It says that “global warming and rising CO2 levels could worsen air quality and threaten human health due to increased levels of allergenic pollen and ground-level ozone.”<br /><br />The <a href="http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/70887.php">Medical News Today </a>agrees, adding that "Asthma and other allergic diseases have become more prevalent in the United States in recent years. They affect as many as 50 million people, or more than 20 percent of the population. The incidence of asthma alone has more than tripled over the past 25 years and currently affects more than 22 million Americans.”<br /><br />I sneeze, pop an allergy pill and finally muster the courage to be the friend she will later be grateful she has. “Well, maybe you can pack a bunch of commuters up in the back. It may not be great on gas but one of those on the road is better than four.”<br /><br />“You’re right. And that’s a good idea,” she resolves, as she runs off a short list of people she might be able to tolerate in rush hour traffic. Just before we get off the phone, we are interrupted by her daughter’s unfulfilled responsibilities.<br /><br />“Casey*! Did you put all of those bottles and cans in the trash like I asked you to?” Whiney protest errupts in the background.<br /><br />“Cecily*!” I scold, exasperated. Has she heard nothing I've said?<br /><br />“What?" She pauses then realizes, "Oh. I guess I need to get a recycle bin?”<br /><br />I sigh and realize we’ve got miles to go (preferably by bike, in a hybrid or electricity-powered car) before I sleep.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br /><em>This account has been reconstructed with poetic license. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><em>*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.</em></span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-5585493304767114442008-05-15T09:02:00.000-07:002008-05-15T11:28:36.480-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJ9H443He4vMaDgflt1zUaxneXIj3TpCW6smVVcKGeJMG4Pfhkz6F-s8Hx83zKfFoyTtR2gW8zCTbsC_ewgia_BvZWawLQQsm6S9onFCPB9N3NbA53ppwj9dKXRDv2IPoX7eb/s1600-h/flowers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200639793705831074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJ9H443He4vMaDgflt1zUaxneXIj3TpCW6smVVcKGeJMG4Pfhkz6F-s8Hx83zKfFoyTtR2gW8zCTbsC_ewgia_BvZWawLQQsm6S9onFCPB9N3NbA53ppwj9dKXRDv2IPoX7eb/s320/flowers.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#009900;"><span style="color:#3333ff;">THANK YOU!!!</span> you know who you are…</span> </span></strong></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">even if I don’t…</span></em></strong></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#993399;"></span></em></strong><br /><div>so i come home last night to find a beautifully fragrant, gorgeous bouquet of <span style="color:#ff9900;"><strong>flowers</strong></span> on my doorstep. no card. no delivery certification. no business staple. just flowers. roses. tigerlilies. and other white and pink blossoms that inspire poems in me. my friend, carole, who was with me, and i stared at the bouquet, at first lovingly... then with the kind of suspicion america imposes on gestures like these. who were they from? should i assume they are for me? because they could be for my mother, right? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>well, mom (who is in NYC right now) is baffled; can't imagine who of her friends actually has her address or would do such a thing. so, (thinking the card had blown away in the wind) i immediately credited <strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">sweetiebubu</span></strong>... called him to gush my thanks, bookended by i-love-yous. he said, though he wanted to take the credit... it wasn’t him. <em>*awkward*</em> so i ran through my mind other possibilities but none seemed reasonable. i don’t <em>THINK</em> i have admirers like <em>THAT</em>. (LOL) and most of the people i know who do love me and might want to make such a gesture have the same financial challenges i do! so it didn’t seem reasonable that they would spend what was left after bill payments on this gift. (again... not that they don’t love me enough to… <em>you know what i mean…)</em><br /><br />whoever you are… wherever you are… <strong><span style="color:#33ff33;">THANK YOU</span></strong>. after the creepy feeling subsided, the flowers <strong><em>absolutely</em></strong> MADE my evening. i felt loved... special... acknowledged! isn’t that what we all want?</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">here's to anonymous gifts of love!</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3366ff;"><strong>*muah*</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">shia</span></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-73277679523663107802008-05-08T12:39:00.000-07:002008-05-08T12:47:12.047-07:00<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><span style="color:#009900;">Sharon Bridgforth Presents:</span></em> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"><strong>One For The Road</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong><em>A Poetic Jam Session</em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">May 12, 2008 7PM</span> </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>At <span style="color:#6600cc;">Resistencia Bookstore</span> (Casa de Red Salmon Arts) </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>1801-A South First St. Austin, TX 78704512.416-8885</strong></span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.resistenciabooks.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://www.resistenciabooks.com</span></a></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Love Offerings for Red Salmon Arts Accepted</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Featuring: <strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">Lidia Marte, Samiya Bashir, Shia Shabazz</span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and an Open Mic Jam </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">Lidia Marte</span></strong> will read from her newly published book</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">El Reino de la Imagen: Memoria, Comida y Representacion(2008 Isla Negra Editores, San Juan-Santo Domingo).</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">RedBone Press author, <strong><span style="color:#993399;">Samiya Bashir</span></strong>, will read from</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Queer Codex: ROOTED! Anthology Edited by Lorenzo Herrera y Lozano, Published by Evelyn Street Press & allgo. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">Shia Shabazz</span></strong> will read from her newly published chapbook</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Momentary: Poems by Shia Shabazz</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Immediately following Lidia, Samiya and Shia's reading there will be an open mic.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Writers/visual artists/musicians/dancers invited to jam (up to 3 minutes)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As some of you know, though <strong><span style="color:#009900;">Bridgforth</span></strong> will be in Austin a lot/she <strong><span style="color:#009900;">will be based in NYC & L.A. beginning June 1</span></strong> - <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">so come on out and lets share "One For The Road" before she takes off.</span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More about <strong>Lidia Marte's book</strong>...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(this book is an Afro-Caribbean stew of theauthor's external and internal migrant journeys)El Reino de la Imagen es un sancocho (sopa)poético/político de una memoria proletaria yemigrante al romper del siglo 21.Ensayo visual, etnografia tercermundista,vomito existencial?Más allá de las posibles etiquetas, estelibro propone la validez testimonial de nuestraexperiencia cotidiana e históricamente específica.</span><a href="http://www.islanegra.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://www.islanegra.com</span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More about<strong> Queer Codex</strong>... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ROOTED...QUEER CODEX: ROOTED! Features poetry, short stories and visual art from 11 queer women and trans-identified artists, Queer Codex: ROOTED! is inspired by Sharon Bridgforth's artist residency as part of allgo's 2007-2008 Cultural Arts Season: Envisioned & Created Space(s). Queer Codex: ROOTED! contributes to a growing body of literature and visual art by queer women and trans-identified artists of color, of Jewish descent, activists, scholars and cultural workers. Contributors: Wura-Natasha Ogunji, Sharon Bridgforth, Senalka McDonald, Samiya Bashir, Matt U. Richardson, María Limón, Jennifer Margulies, Cheryl Coward, Anel I. Flores, Ana-Maurine Lara, Adelina Anthony. For more about Samiya go to: </span><a href="http://www.samiyabashir.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://www.samiyabashir.com</span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More about <strong>Shia Shabazz's</strong> book...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Momentary features poems presented in Shia's recent interdisplinary performance, produced by The Center for African and African American Studies, UT Austin, directed by Florinda Bryant. Momentary explores epiphany,and inspired moments that propel activism, inspire art/love/living and inform who we are/who we become. Shia is a Cave Canem Fellow and a member of The Austin Project. For more information go to: </span><a href="http://groovenbuttafly.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">http://groovenbuttafly.blogspot.com</span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff0000;"><strong>ALL THREE BOOKS WILL BE FOR SALE AT THIS EVENT!</strong></span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-16408425471976565402008-05-05T08:35:00.000-07:002008-05-05T13:31:40.336-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#663366;"><strong>supa FLY ... supa FLUSTERED</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"><strong><em>can the two co-exist? yes!!!</em></strong></span><br /><strong><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"></span></em></strong><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">life these days is filled with contradiction and a whole lotta noticable juxtaposition. acceptance and accomplishment lives in the same space as rejection and illumination of my short-comings. it can make my supa FLY feel supa FLUSTERED, and vice versa. i've felt a bit of both lately.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />all in all tho, this past week has been a BLAST! the moments will be dog-earred as some of the most memorable pages in the book that is my life. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />last sunday, i actually made it to and through my performance, Moments We Know. the process was SO interesting. i learned so many truths about myself (which put to rest so many of the lies i believed from people who haven't known how to love me). and i learned so many more truths thru the people who showed up (physically and figuratively). that's not to in any way accost or accuse anyone who didn't make it. (REALLY!) but i am SO grateful to those who fed me during the weeks/days/hours leading up to the show and to those who walked with me through it. and the talk-back was fascinating, to hear what resonated with people and which words/poems/thoughts prompted questions/observations/interest. i was glad to see it come... and go. it was the scariest and most exciting thing i've done since birthing my first child. all of the pains and pleasures of the experience lived in my body. and though there were many guides and coaches around to give love and support (for whom i am immensely grateful), the actual labor and birthing process were mine to bear. and it felt like a big ole baby! but it came out beautifully flawed and healthy, all major pieces intact. and i, like any new parent, am exhausted and amazed that i gave birth to such a glorious gift and gave it to the world.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />sweetie bubu came in for the performance which created a-whole-nother level of anxiety and love. his brief but completely fulfilling visit made the longing for him as a part of my daily life more intense. but it also made the knowing more intense. soon...</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />in the week that followed i got to see my favorite smith brothers, "E" and "jubu", working it out with rhianna and maze, respectively. wading through clamoring fans at the kanye/rhianna concert, was mtv personality sway calloway, who, as it turns out, i DO know. (i've said it for years... "i KNOW that cat!") when i stopped him, he said the same thing ("i know you!") and we realized we go waaaaay back... relating thru an ex of mine, who's kin of his. anyhoo, movin' and shakin' in a town that usually stands still for me was a very cool.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />this week i am back at work, but no longer working on the supa fly project i was working on. it ended... but i'm STILL EMPLOYED and ecstatic about that! but it feels like i've slowed from 110 mph to 10 mph. which in some ways is cool; but in others can be extremely frustrating. i guess i should be thankful for the breather while i have it. </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />anyway, i also found out that i didn't get into a program that i was told i was a "shoe-in" for. i'm taking it well, which is good. but i really hate the rejection thing. there are twinges of doubt/insecurity flaring like pimple in my mind. was it my age? why am i not a fit? is it because i am no longer a student? is it... (a la martin lawrence in Boomerang)...racial? (LOL) anyway, i guess the bottom line is that it just wasn't my time for the program. oh well... but i'm waiting to hear back from a coupla other things that i submitted to. wish me luck. better yet, put in a prayer and a bit of positive energy for me... that it is my time!</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />overall, my children are brilliant, i'm relatively healthy (save the re-injury of an ankle sprain or foot-something that i refuse to have treated... when are we gonna get every american insured around this mutha? obama... where you at?) my job's going well, sweetie bubu still loves me, i haven't lost all of my friends and i am still determined to keep love as the order of the day... i'd say life is very good. kisses, kinks and all...<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Al[l]ways Love...<br />*MUAH*<br />shia</span><br /><br /></span></span></span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-3616902632367652882008-04-16T14:30:00.001-07:002008-04-16T14:37:12.191-07:00<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;">MOMENTS WE KNOW</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>performance by shia shabazz</em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">directed by florinda bryant</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Sunday, April 27th @2pm</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Winship Drama Building, Room 2.180</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(located at 23rd & San Jacinto on the UT Campus)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">FREE and Open to the Public</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCwQtxwmigrdGSS3SDgWQoxEibkrtFFniL6tqbAosgBQz24v9jVLWoEsP1_tqofZMOQCvlzfUdQfZbtLbXooDHVUdNL-Uy6QskdZkWN1epPLWyjaBLYCe4dNxfJYKZVCc_TxK/s1600-h/momentsweknow_042708.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189958975693634162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="266" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCwQtxwmigrdGSS3SDgWQoxEibkrtFFniL6tqbAosgBQz24v9jVLWoEsP1_tqofZMOQCvlzfUdQfZbtLbXooDHVUdNL-Uy6QskdZkWN1epPLWyjaBLYCe4dNxfJYKZVCc_TxK/s320/momentsweknow_042708.jpg" width="362" border="0" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff9900;">Moments We Know</span></em></strong> is as an exploration of epiphany and the familiar; those inspired moments that propel activism, inspire art/love/living and inform who we are/who we become. </span></div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><strong><em>photo by M.Shawn Photography</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">graphic design by </span></em></strong><a href="http://www.groovenbuttafly.com/"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">www.groovenbuttafly.com</span></em></strong></a></span><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></em></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-23064689956033771192008-01-30T22:27:00.001-08:002008-01-30T22:33:26.821-08:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"><strong>you are a <span style="color:#009900;">GENIUS</span>!</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong><em>remind yourself of that daily!</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">i read somewhere, in some book that has become a part of my walk, that you should make an effort to keep close the beautiful things people say about you. record these things in a journal and read them daily. i do this when i can but i rarely reread what i've written. i should. i need to counterbalance the things that have supplanted the gems given to me as a child. for some reason, it's easier to hang on to the voices that have espoused your deficiencies than those that sing your name to the heavens. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">i'm not sure what's going on in the cosmos but the past 48 hours have been a showering of words and love on my soul and on my person. from my children, from people of my now and of my long ago, from new found friends, from the most unexpected places. no one wanting anything in return. not even acknowledgement necessarily. just offerings of love and thanks. and just when i was lamenting that at this ripe old age of 37, i have yet to find a cure for the world's suffering or contribute in some greater way to whatever my mission in this life is to be. i keep wondering... how can i create/love/laugh/dance or anything else that might inspire good in the world if i can't pay my rent? but the generosity of their words reminded me that changing the world can happen one small act as a time. all we have to do is believe we are changing it.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">thank you for your gifts. gifts of memory and observation. gifts of love and friendship. the bits and pieces of my own humanity that are hard to remember when i feel like such a mule. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">today, someone called me a genius; a word which i thought was reserved for people... well, people other than me, or so those voices in my head have whispered and screamed from time to time. but the giver of this compliment explained that genius (true genius) has more to do with life-brilliance than books. with desire, innovation and creative minds. her articulation was so much better than mine and the fact that i can't remember it makes me feel even less worthy. (there's that voice again.) but i appreceiate what she sees in me. and what the other people offered from their purview. i am a genius. the beautiful thing is... we are all geniuses.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">*muah*<br />shia, the genius</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-49537919439364469152007-12-05T13:28:00.000-08:002007-12-05T13:41:32.330-08:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#009900;"><strong>bless his heart...</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#000099;"><em><strong>he must have been an ugly baby</strong></em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">my life has been going at its usual hectic pace. kids. jobby jobs. freelance work. writing. car trouble. and everything in between. i’m not complaining. just testifying because i am shaking my clothes dry and now feeling the warmth of sun on my face.<br /><br />this week, my jobby job has been the usual reception/admin gig at an office with heady types, mostly white men, who have been very kind and accommodating to the “temp.” (“you’re so good. very professional,” they remark, surprised like the job is… hard. some hover with eyes that languish in their bland other lives, in exchange for pleasantries with the new “pretty” face in the office.) i was supposed to be with the firm through the end of the year. but yesterday morning, i got an email offer to work on a dream of a project that is most certainly more interesting, more worth my time and a more dynamic career opportunity. (don’t get me wrong… i am humbled and grateful for all of the places and spaces i have been. i appreciate all of the kindness and the “friends” i’ve made.) but this… this is the one i’ve held out for. (allahu akbar. thank you universe!) but here’s the kicker-in-the-asser… at the height of my internal celebration, i shared with a few of the guys that i would not be here next week.<br /> <strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">yt: well, congratulations but you have demographics on your side.</span><br /></em></strong>i hesitated, knowing full well what he meant but not wanting to go there.<br /> <strong><em><span style="color:#6600cc;">me: you mean because there are so few people in the field?</span></em></strong><br /> <strong><em> <span style="color:#cc0000;">yt: no, because you are a Black women.</span></em></strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><br /></span>he goes on to say that he’s basically just a white guy and that technology is filled with asians and white guys.<br /> <strong><em> <span style="color:#cc0000;">yt: so you should be a shoe in.</span></em></strong> </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> (i pause.)</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> <strong><em><span style="color:#6600cc;">me: oh, yeah… and because i’m qualified.</span></em></strong><br />i made as graceful an exit as i could but i was suddenly nauseas and sweating under my clothes. in my "temp" skin, i couldn’t find my activist spiel about the changing face of <strong>racism </strong>and how his certainty about this "affirmative" action negates all of the work and study and natural talent i have as a writer and as an industry professional and that i was insulted at the insinuation, at the implication that i, a Black woman, did not earn/deserve my new position, that i was somehow chosen for reasons other than the one that mattered. i wanted to go against all of my positive energy training and call him out of his name. but i resigned to a “bless his heart” (what myval and i say when we see babies who unfortunately aren’t edibly cute and to people who can’t help their ugliness). so bless his heart.</span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">the hater-guy's mexican counterpart came to me later, after overhearing the conversation. he congratulated me and shared that he would experience "the same thing" when he was coming into his own as a business man. "next time one of them says something like that to you," he smiles and says, looking me more square in the eye than even my father has, as he raises both fists in victory, "just look at him and say, well, yeah! and it's about [damn] time!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">anyway, i start monday! i think i'll take the kids to a movie to celebrate!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">*muah*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">shia</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-22880868749319668642007-11-30T14:02:00.000-08:002007-11-30T14:19:24.366-08:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"><strong>life is still a dream...</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">tomorrow begins the last month of 2007. it’s all gone by like wind; blustery some times, breezy at others. with this end, there are various beginnings and some really painful endings.<br /><br />i was in california for the thanksgiving holiday. it would have been an amazing and deliciously blog-worthy trip filled with family, Love and ridiculous amounts of beef bacon (my fav), homemade macaroni and cheese, stuffing, turkey and CJ’s hot-water cornbread. instead, it was a weird mix of joy and devastation due to the sudden death of <span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>“Cousin” Erika</strong></span>.<br /><br />hers is the third journeying i learned of by people under 40 in the past two months, two of whom died of “natural” causes. (there just seems something unnatural about dying that young.) after 2+ days of complaining of chest and leg pains, i am told erica passed as she prepared to go to the hospital for evaluation. it makes me frustrated that information and access to such basic information – that these are historically signs of stroke or heart attack – eluded her and the people around her the morning after thanksgiving when she passed. the drama that ensued after her death has yet to sort itself out but we are praying it will soon. she deserves prayer and memory. the rest at this point…<br /><br />the final night of my visit was spent at <strong><span style="color:#000099;"><a href="http://www.kpfa.org/">KPFA</a></span></strong> radio in berkeley where <a href="http://www.legallyblyndmusic.com/">legally blynd </a>members (jubu and ronnie) and “fam” paid tribute to the late jimi hendrix. it was off the chain! the slide show below captures a little of it but the energy in the room was amazing... all of the talent... MAN! from there, sweetie and i grabbed my bags and headed to the airport for my red-eye back to my life in austin. </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br /><div><embed style="WIDTH: 426px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-00.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=un&il=1&channel=360287970203417600&site=widget-00.slide.com"></embed> <div style="WIDTH: 426px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=un&ad=0&id=360287970203417600&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-00.slide.com/p1/360287970203417600/un_t000_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=un&ad=0&id=360287970203417600&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-00.slide.com/p2/360287970203417600/un_t000_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /></a></div></div><br /><br />my graphic design jobs are slow going and present clients are slow paying this time of year. so, these days, i am working temp jobby jobs as much as possible. someday soon i hope to recover from unexpected expenses related to my aging car... not to mention rent still has to be paid, we still gotta eat, gas prices are still rising and my children who still NEED. so amid the 10 hour days, the 3-4 hour family time and the 4-6 hour freelance nights, i am also trying to return to the space of positive energy and intention that led to movement in my career. i haven’t read a book in weeks and i feel starved for creative time and attention. (where is my MUSE?!?!?)<br /><br />this month, i have to start planning for the SAAW 2008, and get to working on my show. (yes, y’all, i have a show coming up.) i will be working with iandiam.com to create a custom blog to document the progress of it. picture it… me under the skilled and strict direction of <strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">florinda bryant</span></strong> and the constructive guidance of <strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://www.amandajohnston.blogspot.com/">amanda johnston</a></span></strong>… my words… dance… percussion and strings… ahhh… THAT’s a dream. stay tuned…<br /><br />so much Love,<br />*muah*<br />shia</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-64943730423929652532007-11-07T09:13:00.000-08:002007-11-07T13:16:35.825-08:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"><strong>life is but a dream...</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">moments ago, i clicked away arduously at an entry that detailed my more than fabulous trip to cali (LA and Oakland, with <strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">sweetiebubu</span></strong>, my dad and brother, my nephew, <strong><span style="color:#993399;">Aya DeLeon</span></strong>, <strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">James Cagney</span></strong>, <strong><span style="color:#006600;">Amiri Baraka</span></strong>, the TV pitch, the screenplays and every other larger than life experience). but about a paragraph away from "send," iExplore had an error and sent all of that language into cyber-oblivion.<br /><br />so i took a moment to realize that that was not what i was meant to post then i reorganized and added a bunch of "Skegee" folk to my myspace "top" friends. (those that i am in contact with anyway.) i learned within the bliss of the past 2 weeks, the end of my 37 day birth-day celebration, that two of my CLOSEST guy-friends from <strong><span style="color:#660000;">Tuskegee</span></strong> class of '93, left this life for the next. so rather than prattle on and on about the somethings and the nothings that have filled my life with such joy and pain, i dedicate this last in my birthday celebration series to the memories of <strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">Christopher Talib Price</span></strong> and <strong><span style="color:#3366ff;">Julius "Jules" Whaley</span></strong>... who filled my life with joy and pain. i am SO grateful for the memories that they left me with. Chri-is was COOL people. always made me laugh. and i was the only one he would let drive his bug because i could drive a stick. JULES, which i remember saying in the same way they said NORM when the character enteres "Cheers," was our emerging revolutionary. he was gentle and kind. both brothas were just BEAUTIFUL people. Jules and i had reconnected through the magic of myspace within the last six months (i think) but i was elated to have shared a few more smiles with him. i never ran into Chris beyond Skegee but i understand he was absolutely the man i imagined he'd become.<br /><br />i hope they both know now what i hope they knew then. that i am grateful to have loved them as friends and as human beings. my prayer is that the people they left behind find as much celebration in the memory of their lives as they might feel in the pain of their passings.<br /><br />if you are reading this, know that i love you for it and that i am grateful for your time and attention. there are no promises that we will ever meet or meet again. but we should experience joy in each interaction. and walk away with a little more love than we walked in the room with.<br /><br />love and love and more love to Chris and Jules and their families...<br /><br />to my Skegee folks<br /><br />to my Oakland Tech folks<br /><br />to my family... to my communities...<br /><br />*MUAH*<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">alwa</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">ys LOVE,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">shia</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"><strong><em>"We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting." --Kahlil Gibran</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">(also posted at <a href="http://www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly">www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly</a>)</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-63239592765806963042007-10-15T06:46:00.000-07:002007-11-07T09:13:09.632-08:00<strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#330033;">37 Days/ 37 Ways!!!</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3333ff;"><strong>Birthday Celebration Week 2</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">so my <strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">37-day birthday celebration </span></strong>has rounded out it's 2nd week and it's been wonderful. when you walk around saying that you are celebrating your birthday, people are so nice to you. and i think i am a bit nicer too. i bought myself some roses that were on sale one of the days and ended up at my fav coffee shop reading and writing for a short spell. a guy in a nearby chair looks up from beneath his "hollywood" baseball cap and asks if they were for him. i tell him that i bought them for myself in celebration of my life. he admired that but feigned disappointment that they weren't for him. (long story short) as i packed my car to leave, i sped back in to give him one rose, with it saying, "this is not a pass, it's a gift, have a good night." he was speechless and looked to want/maybe need to say more, engage me more. but i sped out as quickly as i did in. my gesture was not to ask anything from him. nor to conjure neither ill-fitting nor comfortable conversation with him. it was late. i was tired. i wanted to gift him something beautiful. then i went home and made small vases with single roses in each, leaving them in my children's room and my mother's room. hoping they woke up to something full and beautiful. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>Eid Mubarak!</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ramadan ended (for some on Friday, others on Saturday... controversial non/sighting of the moon) and Eid in austin was a beautiful collective of multi-ethnic Muslims praying together. the Imam gave an EXCELLENT kupbah (sp?) on the need for Muslims to be examples for what Islam is really about, even for other Muslims. that though hitler was Christian, he did not become the symbol for what Christianity looked like and that it was unfair for the world to do that because of Muslims with extreme views. (Allahu Akbar!) starting today, i am making up the days where fasting was thwarted by agruments or my "moon cycle" or brown rice before sunset. so i intend to feed some families and fast until my heart and soul (and Allah) are satisfied (not in that order) that i have fulfilled my obligation. this Ramadan came filled with blessings which i will share when the lights are green. Allahu Akbar!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">i am organizing for my trip to cali just more than a week from now. i can feel, in this moment, ow amazing it promises to be. weeks one and two were amazing. i can't eve imaging what the Universe has in store for this week and the weeks to come. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">*muah*<br />shia<br />(also posted at </span></span><a href="http://www.myspace.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></a></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly"><span style="font-size:85%;">www.myspace.com</span></span></a><a span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;">/groovenbuttafly</span></a>)</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-63639424181108521642007-10-08T20:41:00.001-07:002007-10-08T21:31:46.716-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#006600;"><strong>October 1st... It's my bir<span style="color:#ff6600;">f</span>day, it's my bir<span style="color:#ff6600;">f</span>day!</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"><strong>and i'm celebratin' for 37 days...</strong></span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff0000;"><strong><em>(see pictures below)</em></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">so on october 1st, i turned 37... yeah, i said it. cuz i'm proud of this journey and that i am so alive on it. so much more to learn and love. so each day, for the next month +, i will be doing something in honor of the life i have lived, the lessons i have learned, and the joy i hope to continue to find and create along the way. on the day that you read this, i invite you to celebrate yourself as well. (my gift to you.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">check out the slide show from my first week. the weekend before my birthday, my children made me breakfast and we baked a cake together. then, on monday, my actual DAY, my sweetie called, woke me at midnight with a serenade then later sent me to the nail salon for a moment of pampering where my val (and lil harris) met me with cookies and smiles. then thursday, manda treated me to drinks and dancing at the studio. (never mind that there was barely anyone else there. it was all about buttafly!) then we went to samiyah and kiana's to further uplift the evening. friday i volunteered for the ProArts BAM, saw inspired performances by zell miller and chandra washington, which was a gift in itself. and i rounded out the celebration week with the soulfest at the millenium center. i'm trying not to bore you with narrative cuz i got pix!!! say tuned for next week's post. (week 2)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">*muah*</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">enjoy!</span><br /><br /><br /><embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 320px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-aa.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&il=1&channel=360287970201829546&site=widget-aa.slide.com"></embed> <div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&ad=0&id=360287970201829546&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-aa.slide.com/p1/360287970201829546/bb_t040_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&ad=0&id=360287970201829546&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-aa.slide.com/p2/360287970201829546/bb_t040_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /></a></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-33413781723010982772007-09-27T07:11:00.000-07:002007-09-27T07:56:32.456-07:00<a href="http://www.freewillastrology.com/images/fwalogo.red.gif"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.freewillastrology.com/images/fwalogo.red.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#333399;"><strong>free will + astrology</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><em>your choice, your Universe...</em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">so if any of you are like me, you are at least moderately interested in what the cosmos is doing/has to say about you. and you may or may not know that each week, a new horoscope is posted on </span><a href="http://www.freewillastrology.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">www.freewillastrology.com</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"> where writer/author rob brezsny poetically educates, entertains and informs that "higher," cosmically connected you. i like this rendering because it is in a language that i understand/that speaks to my most creative/spiritual/intellectual sensibilities.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">well, this morning when i checked out my horoscope (libra... october 1st... eh-hem... *cough*... birthday coming up... *cough, cough*... on monday... *cough*... *sneeze*... WHEW! please excuse me. darn molds and ragweed!) anyway, as i was saying... i usually disregard the homepage as the necessary cyber front door to enter into the space i really want to be in. (no offense mr. brezsny.) but today, after reading what's going on in Libra astrologically this week and affirming my planetary quest, i mistakenly clicked back to the hompage. (shrug) i figured it was a gift, so i read it. i was so inspired by the page, purposefully called Liberate Your Imagination, that i pasted it below. if you have a moment, READ IT! really. it is a gift.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">abrazos y besos,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">shia</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#3333ff;">Liberate Your Imagination</span></strong><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Lately, I must admit, our work has seemed almost comically impossible. Many of our brothers and sisters believe that everything is upside-down and inside-out. Is war really peace? Is slavery really freedom? Is ignorance strength? How did it all get so insane?Even many of the smartest among us seem to have lost their vision. Cynicism has become a supreme sign of intelligence. Compulsive skepticism masquerades as perceptiveness. Mean-spirited irony is chic. Beautiful truths are suspect and ugly truths are popular.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">At this peculiar turning point in the evolution of our 14-billion-year-old master game, it ain't easy to carry out our mission. We've got to be both wrathful insurrectionaries and exuberant lovers of life. We’ve got to cultivate cheerful buoyancy even as we resist the temptation to swallow thousands of delusions that have been carefully crafted and seductively packaged by those among us who bravely volunteered to play the role of deceivers.We have to learn how to stay in a good yet unruly mood as we overthrow the cockeyed mass hallucination that is mistakenly referred to as reality.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Maybe most importantly, we have to be ferociously and single-mindedly dedicated to the cause of beauty and truth and love even as we keep our imaginations wild and hungry and free. We have to be both disciplined and rowdy.That's especially thorny because of the fact that a genocide of the imagination is raging world-wide. It threatens to render our imaginations numb and inert and passive and tame.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I know you know what I mean. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Aren't you psychically assaulted by dangerous images every day? Don't the media relentlessly blast you with their trendy doom and gloom fixation, barraging you with messages about how bad life is? Doesn't the entertainment industry force-feed you insipidly paranoid scenarios in the same way a French foie gras farmer crams eight pounds of corn down the gullet of his prize goose every day? Aren't your eyes and ears constantly scalded by blistering harangues to buy stuff you don't really need? Isn't the sacred temple of your imagination pounded ruthlessly by smart bombs whipped up by evil advertising geniuses in their Madison Avenue laboratories? Hasn't your ability to envision the astounding intricacy and richness of the web of life gotten hijacked and hooked on decadent fantasies about new possessions that would allegedly make you happier?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Your imagination is supposed to be the engine of your destiny. It is the wizard's wand you can use to design your future. Your imagination is your power to create mental pictures of things that don’t exist yet and that you want to bring into being. Every human creation on this earth has begun as a vision in someone's imagination.Your imagination is also your very own all-purpose joy stick, your snakeskin bag of magic tricks. It's your remote-control channel-changer, and the only reliable rearranger of anything anywhere anytime. It's your X-Factor, your wild card, your wicked funny instigator, your Goddess-sanctioned trouble-maker -- your swarming, terraforming, always-morning brainstormer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Love desperately needs your imagination. As psychologist James Hillman says, "For a relationship to stay alive, love alone is not enough. Without imagination, love stales into sentiment, duty, and boredom. Intimacy fails not because we have stopped loving but because we first stopped imagining."Your imagination is the single most important tool you have in your daily fight to be free. It is the source of every act of liberation you will ever need to pull off.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">But how can your imagination flourish--how can it dream up scenarios that energize you to create your own version of heaven on earth--if you are forever deluged by dazzling psychic toxins that sting and sap and wound your lust for life?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Too many of our brothers and sisters have fallen victim. Their swarming terraforming always-morning brainstormers have been cruelly fooled into acting as if their deepest desires are impossible lies. As a result they live incoherent lives corroded by chronic anxiety.I for one am no longer willing to tolerate the epidemic obsession with big bad nasty things and flashy trite empty-hearted things. I say it's time for us to re-consecrate and regenerate and lubricate and liberate and take back our imaginations. Here are my demands.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #1: I demand that Amnesty International launch a crusade against a form of terrorism I call the genocide of the imagination.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #2: I demand that you periodically go on a media fast. For a week at a time, once a season, avoid all TV, movies, novels, yalk shows, newspapers, magazines, and Internet.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #3: I demand that you learn to tell the difference between your own thoughts and those of the celebrities who have demonically possessed you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #4: I demand that People magazine do a feature story on "The World's Fifty Sexiest Perpetrators of Beauty, Truth, and Rowdy Bliss."</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #5: I demand that you wear underpants on your head and dance naked in slow motion whenever you watch movies on TV about tormented geniuses who create great art but treat everyone in their lives like crap.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #6: I demand that you refuse to be entertained and entranced by bad news--by stories whose plots are driven by violence, abuse, terrorism, bigotry, lawsuits, greed, crashes, alcoholism, disease, and torture. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #7: I demand that you seek out and create stories that make you feel that the universe is friendly and life is on your side. You could hunt down stories about how, for example, rising rates of intermarriage are helping to dissipate ethnic and religious strife worldwide; how the violent crime rate in America has been steadily declining for 30 years; how death rates from cancer are shrinking; the birth rate among teenage mothers is the lowest it's been in six decades; acreage devoted to organic farming is increasing rapidly; the number of refugees and weapons sales all over the world are way down from the level they were 15 years ago, and how the actual bare naked truth is that levels of literacy and education and political freedom and peace and wealth are steadily growing all over the world. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">DEMAND #8: When you're too well-entertained to move, screaming is good exercise. Which is why I demand that you scream now and then whenever you're soaking up slick crap generated by the imaginations of people who are devoted to money, power, and ego instead of love, reverence, and play.</span></div></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-68649982934795933022007-09-21T10:43:00.000-07:002007-09-21T13:33:40.752-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WbvrwN1XrkAxnwVzBczBmimToBz3ix6ZSE_1NAKsvi-9al6WzOEP_rlYmAXLHa7xR1u14RgFnN_qAhYOiXKJHkvXUkj3b_Y236O2IVBfw9b-aWZ8ChVyGE3dVDbvB-k0sc0u/s1600-h/sxul7em.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112721155418389778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WbvrwN1XrkAxnwVzBczBmimToBz3ix6ZSE_1NAKsvi-9al6WzOEP_rlYmAXLHa7xR1u14RgFnN_qAhYOiXKJHkvXUkj3b_Y236O2IVBfw9b-aWZ8ChVyGE3dVDbvB-k0sc0u/s200/sxul7em.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>every AMAZING week...</strong></span><br /><em>deserves SXUL CHOCOLATES!</em></span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">this week i realized how many people mean well. but when it comes down to it, you can't count on good intentions. i learned, in various ways, that i can only REALLY count on myself, my own resourcefulness, wit, instincts to push beyond where i am up/through/over/around the mountain to the other side. people, who i had hoped would actually follow through in some possibly career altering ways, just *poof* disappeared. and i do understand that we are all busy with our own lives. but silly me... i keep counting on people who appear to believe in where i am going... then offer to help in VERY specific ways... then bail. (what's that?) anyway, it makes me more conscious about over committing my own time and intention. so maybe i will be a better person for it. because, broken spirits and promises aside, this week was amazing... worth celebrating!<br /><br />so i mentioned that i have been working jobby jobs and, while the idea of that makes me wanna hurl, i actually have been working in some really cool places and spaces. this week i've been in the austin field office of a civil engineering company where i was encouraged to bring a book or any other activity that might help occupy my mind. (for those who know me, they probably should have watched what they asked for.) this week, while web-streaming kksf (my favorite smooth jazz station in the world), i managed to create and register--not one but TWO--tv show pitches, write 3 poems, edit a PSA, submit a contest entry, blog!, read and surf, surf, SURF the web at my leisure!!! and none of my activities had to be covert!!! (you know what i mean. i didn't have to minimize my email or my blog or <a href="http://www.stylenetwork.com/">http://www.stylenetwork.com/</a> when my boss came around.) as long as i answered the 4-5 calls the company got per day and helped the 1-5 customers who might actually drop off or pick up equipment, the world was my oyster and i sucked even the pearl from the shell! in celebration (of mailing my entry and completing such a productive week), i bought my absolute fav dark chocolate truffle... SXUL chocolate! (yes that's really the name... SeXUaL chocolate.) next to sweetie bubu (the OTHER kind of sexual chocolate), it's the best chocolate in the world!!! (check out <a href="http://www.sxulchocolates.com/">http://www.sxulchocolates.com/</a>) i would tell you that if you don't like it, i'll reimburse you myself but i can barely afford my own chocolate habit. so get your own box with my word on its excellence. tonight, just after sunset, i will break my fast on dates and mixed nuts, followed by a smart meal, something junky... then... ahhh… indulging in the blissful, spiritually restorative properties of chocolate in a SXUL truffle!<br /><br />Ultimately… life is good.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">*muah*</span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">shia</span></div>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14065431.post-91608016238476667552007-09-18T11:47:00.000-07:002007-09-18T12:05:19.325-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>grumble grumble...</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">today, i am preoccupied with my hunger. with the rumblings of my shrinking belly. until today, my fast has been relatively pain free. i am working in an office where there is literally no one around to tempt me. my children are no longer fasting but they wake up and eat with me, support me in the ways i need encouragement. but today. today i am feeling slightly headachy. sleepy. i am trying not to give in to the promise that i can make up this day should i lose it to the iced coffee in the fridge down the hall.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">i've written 2 poems today, and one yesterday thanks to ric williams. he writes a poem a day. he sent me one on email and i took it as a challenge. (i never realized how i refuse to back away from productive challenges.) anyway, i don't know if they are good. but i wrote and that's what matters, right? maybe i'll post (one of) them. hmmm...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">i didn't want anything. just biding my time. thanks for listening.</span>still groovenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12223797258697702712noreply@blogger.com0