still grooven

2012-01-05T19:49:00.000-08:00

52 things in 52 weeks
first off, let me say... HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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.

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 writerly 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.

(numbered, but in no particular order... here we go...)

write a list of 52 things I can accomplish this year (good start, right?)

read a blog (see, you can already cross one thing off of your list)

start/write a blog (it will get the juices flowing)

(PRIVATE)

read a screenplay/work in your favorite genre

finish writing a screenplay (ScriptFrenzy)

enter a writing contest

read a book of poems (suggestions?)

read the autobiography of an author or a memoir

see 12 movies (1/month)

mentor a young person

write a letter to 6 family members and mail them

write using a prompt (suggestions)

read the newspaper cover to cover

take a dance lesson

visit an art museum

go to a poetry reading (venue suggestions?)

read at a poetry reading/open mic

parle francais avec ma soeur

paint on canvas

write a short film

shoot a short film

get a massage

get a mani/pedi

eat sushi

eat tiramisu

swim in an ocean

walk barefoot

ride a bike

buy a cozy robe

attend a professional conference

apply for a fellowship

skip

sing

(PRIVATE)

make bookmarks

make a carrot cake from scratch

take a writing workshop

lead a writing workshop

make a tshirt

create/order business cards

buy some red toms

get a new journal that i LOVE

new collection of pens

acquire 12 classic movies

begin a collaborative project

pitch a project

volunteer for a day

work freelance (builds muscle)

write at least a poem/week during poetry month (APRIL, which is also ScriptFrenzy month so...

journal, journal, journal!

learn tai chi and incorporate it into my daily/weekly schedule

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 i'm 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.)

so, this is it. if you write a list, i'd love to read it. not just so i can knock item #3 off of my list. i want to be inspired.

onward and upward, beautiful people...

2011-11-20T21:49:00.000-08:00

what are you pretending not to know?
my real-life homage to Nikky Finney

NOTE: rarely will i write on the same topics for Torch 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...

during my first year at Cave Canem, one of my most memorable moments of that unforgettable experience was the morning i sat with Nikky Finney 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.

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.

Nikky Finney... I salute you. 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 Rice and The World Is Round. From "The Errand Girl...", Head Off and Split has been the collection I've lauded from the moment the Books Inc., clerk handed me the receipt and i pulled away the front cover. you are what brilliance looks like. 2011 National Book Award... ahhhh... it's about damn time. (the world can no longer pretend not to know!)

OCCUPY EVERYWHERE! by divesting from "routine" and supporting indie book shops, businesses and local artists!

2010-02-25T12:43:00.000-08:00

where i've been
wanna come?

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.

Until then, onward and upward...
abrazos y besos,
shia

2009-10-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

40 by 40 Kick off:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

so today is my 39th birthday 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 required 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... 10/01). 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. Allahu Akbar!

ONWARD AND UPWARD...

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.

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 MIND-body-SPIRIT fabulousness than i've ever been.

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 40 things i hope to achieve before i turn 40 ("40 by 40"). everything from getting fit by 40 to 40 ways to change the world. (anyone who's ever called my cell to leave a message knows i'm on a mission.)

some things on my list:
write 40 poems by 40 (poetry month will help but... well... you know how it is...)
lose 20 pounds in 40 weeks (yes, i still have 20 uninvited pounds)
write 40 "love" letters and mail them to 40 friends
give 40 pampering gestures to myself
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)
fugure 40 ways to show gratitude to people I love
and much, much more...

wish me luck. offer me tips. please drop in for support. i'll need it.

abrazos y besos...
shia

2009-04-14T21:59:00.001-07:00

i need a poetry prompt.

anybody? anybody?

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 am 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?

abrazos y besos...

shia

2009-01-26T13:15:00.000-08:00

i NEED to blog!

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.

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:

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.

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…

THE MOVE:
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.

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.

THE MARRIAGE:
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.

THE BABY:
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...

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.

baby’s kicking and my head is hurting which means time to eat. til next time beautiful people…

**mwah**
shia

2008-12-15T21:10:00.000-08:00

it's your party charlie brown... i mean shia shabazz...
it's the end of an era...

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.

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?

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...

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.

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.

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.

onward, upward and westward...
shia

2008-07-22T21:28:00.000-07:00

what am i here for?

blatherings from the unemployment line...

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 we here for?

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 i'm 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. how am i supposed to create art if i can't pay my bills?

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.

and today, what feelings of respite i may have had transitioned into indomitable restlessness. i 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. blah, blah, blah...

i play them like mantras over and over again. i affirm and re-affirm myself in the face of this rejection. (i'm smart, talented and darn it, people like me!) but it's tough. because the reality is that i read every day about the looming recession. i could barely afford gas when i had a paycheck. 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."

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.

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 best places to work, highest employee satisfaction and places you'd trade going home for. (the offering would look so good that the salary didn't require a mention.)

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?

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.

onward and upward...

2008-06-19T15:33:00.000-07:00

"Green" vs. Grown
Two friends, allergies and an SUV

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.

“It’s got all of the bells and whistles,” she gloats. “It only gets fourteen miles to the gallon, but it’s fly!”

And then there was silence. NOT the response she was trying to elicit.

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.

“I know it’s selfish of me but it’s my time to have a little something for me.”

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.

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.

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.

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 Money Magazine 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.

Global warming and allergy suffering a coincidence? Not according to the Natural Resources Defense Council October 2007 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.”

The Medical News Today 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.”

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.”

“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.

“Casey*! Did you put all of those bottles and cans in the trash like I asked you to?” Whiney protest errupts in the background.

“Cecily*!” I scold, exasperated. Has she heard nothing I've said?

“What?" She pauses then realizes, "Oh. I guess I need to get a recycle bin?”

I sigh and realize we’ve got miles to go (preferably by bike, in a hybrid or electricity-powered car) before I sleep.

This account has been reconstructed with poetic license.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

2008-05-15T09:02:00.000-07:00

THANK YOU!!! you know who you are…

even if I don’t…

so i come home last night to find a beautifully fragrant, gorgeous bouquet of flowers 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?

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 sweetiebubu... called him to gush my thanks, bookended by i-love-yous. he said, though he wanted to take the credit... it wasn’t him. *awkward* so i ran through my mind other possibilities but none seemed reasonable. i don’t THINK i have admirers like THAT. (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… you know what i mean…)

whoever you are… wherever you are… THANK YOU. after the creepy feeling subsided, the flowers absolutely MADE my evening. i felt loved... special... acknowledged! isn’t that what we all want?

here's to anonymous gifts of love!

*muah*

shia

2008-05-08T12:39:00.000-07:00

Sharon Bridgforth Presents:

One For The Road

A Poetic Jam Session

May 12, 2008 7PM

At Resistencia Bookstore (Casa de Red Salmon Arts)

1801-A South First St. Austin, TX 78704512.416-8885

http://www.resistenciabooks.com

Love Offerings for Red Salmon Arts Accepted
Featuring: Lidia Marte, Samiya Bashir, Shia Shabazz
and an Open Mic Jam

Lidia Marte will read from her newly published book
El Reino de la Imagen: Memoria, Comida y Representacion(2008 Isla Negra Editores, San Juan-Santo Domingo).

RedBone Press author, Samiya Bashir, will read from
Queer Codex: ROOTED! Anthology Edited by Lorenzo Herrera y Lozano, Published by Evelyn Street Press & allgo.

Shia Shabazz will read from her newly published chapbook
Momentary: Poems by Shia Shabazz

Immediately following Lidia, Samiya and Shia's reading there will be an open mic.
Writers/visual artists/musicians/dancers invited to jam (up to 3 minutes)

As some of you know, though Bridgforth will be in Austin a lot/she will be based in NYC & L.A. beginning June 1 - so come on out and lets share "One For The Road" before she takes off.

More about Lidia Marte's book...
(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.http://www.islanegra.com

More about Queer Codex...
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: http://www.samiyabashir.com

More about Shia Shabazz's book...
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: http://groovenbuttafly.blogspot.com

ALL THREE BOOKS WILL BE FOR SALE AT THIS EVENT!

2008-05-05T08:35:00.000-07:00

supa FLY ... supa FLUSTERED
can the two co-exist? yes!!!

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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!

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...

Al[l]ways Love...
*MUAH*
shia

2008-04-16T14:30:00.001-07:00

MOMENTS WE KNOW

performance by shia shabazz

directed by florinda bryant

Sunday, April 27th @2pm

Winship Drama Building, Room 2.180

(located at 23rd & San Jacinto on the UT Campus)

FREE and Open to the Public

Moments We Know 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.

photo by M.Shawn Photography
graphic design by www.groovenbuttafly.com

2008-01-30T22:27:00.001-08:00

you are a GENIUS!
remind yourself of that daily!

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.

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.

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.

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.

*muah*
shia, the genius

2007-12-05T13:28:00.000-08:00

bless his heart...
he must have been an ugly baby

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.

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.
yt: well, congratulations but you have demographics on your side.
i hesitated, knowing full well what he meant but not wanting to go there.
me: you mean because there are so few people in the field?
yt: no, because you are a Black women.
he goes on to say that he’s basically just a white guy and that technology is filled with asians and white guys.
yt: so you should be a shoe in.
(i pause.)
me: oh, yeah… and because i’m qualified.
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 racism 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.

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!"

anyway, i start monday! i think i'll take the kids to a movie to celebrate!
*muah*
shia

2007-11-30T14:02:00.000-08:00

life is still a dream...

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.

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 “Cousin” Erika.

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…

the final night of my visit was spent at KPFA radio in berkeley where legally blynd 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.

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?!?!?)

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 florinda bryant and the constructive guidance of amanda johnston… my words… dance… percussion and strings… ahhh… THAT’s a dream. stay tuned…

so much Love,
*muah*
shia

2007-11-07T09:13:00.000-08:00

life is but a dream...

moments ago, i clicked away arduously at an entry that detailed my more than fabulous trip to cali (LA and Oakland, with sweetiebubu, my dad and brother, my nephew, Aya DeLeon, James Cagney, Amiri Baraka, 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.

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 Tuskegee 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 Christopher Talib Price and Julius "Jules" Whaley... 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.

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.

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.

love and love and more love to Chris and Jules and their families...

to my Skegee folks

to my Oakland Tech folks

to my family... to my communities...

*MUAH*

always LOVE,
shia

"We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting." --Kahlil Gibran

(also posted at www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly)

2007-10-15T06:46:00.000-07:00

37 Days/ 37 Ways!!!
Birthday Celebration Week 2

so my 37-day birthday celebration 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.

Eid Mubarak!
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!

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.

*muah*
shia
(also posted at www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly)

2007-10-08T20:41:00.001-07:00

October 1st... It's my birfday, it's my birfday!
and i'm celebratin' for 37 days... (see pictures below)

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.)

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)
*muah*
enjoy!

2007-09-27T07:11:00.000-07:00

free will + astrology
your choice, your Universe...

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 www.freewillastrology.com 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.

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.
abrazos y besos,
shia

Liberate Your Imagination
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.

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.

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.

I know you know what I mean.

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

DEMAND #1: I demand that Amnesty International launch a crusade against a form of terrorism I call the genocide of the imagination.

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.

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.

DEMAND #4: I demand that People magazine do a feature story on "The World's Fifty Sexiest Perpetrators of Beauty, Truth, and Rowdy Bliss."

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.

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.

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.

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.

2007-09-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

every AMAZING week...
deserves SXUL CHOCOLATES!

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!

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 http://www.stylenetwork.com/ 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 http://www.sxulchocolates.com/) 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!

Ultimately… life is good.

*muah*

shia

2007-09-18T11:47:00.000-07:00

grumble grumble...

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.

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...

i didn't want anything. just biding my time. thanks for listening.

2007-09-13T15:25:00.000-07:00

Ramadan Mubarak!

So Ramadan, the Islamic Holy Month of fasting, began today and it was... rather easy. maybe the "master cleanse" training i did several months ago helped. maybe i am just a more mature, more focused, more disciplined, more faithful person this time. (maybe this is just the first day and everything feels easy on the first day.) who knows? whatever it is, i am grateful for the ease and i look forward to what i learn in the days to come. (and i do look forward to breaking my fast at 7:39 this evening on something delicious and nutritious that i will most certainly be grateful for.) this Ramadan, in the wake of "the america project" and Sekou's 51st dream state, i feel so much more aware of myself and Islam and america. funny, now i am reading the Qur'an with all of my Buddhist books. with the secret. this processing. this search. this cleanse. this life. (Allahu Akbar)

i wanted to write post tribute to Sekou Sundiata on the 11th but i was emotionally and physically exhausted. (how do you jump out of real life, experience something so painful and beautiful, and jump back in where you left off, seamlessly?) i had worked all day (filing documents that will in NO WAY affect the necessary changes in the world) and hustled home to freshen up, to get my mom and the kids then on to meet with Samiya to rehearse the piece we were to read at the gathering.

neither words nor silence can convey the beauty of the evening which opened with a recording of Sekou talking about his work. maybe from an NPR interview. i don't know. but to hear his voice somehow made it all feel "okay." and it put him so in the room. that felt reassuring. then one by one we, the participants -- members of Sekou's austin affiliations like the austin project -- read works of his and of our own, in tribute. Samiya and i read "Urban Music" and it was alive. i have been wanting to play his cd over and over since, but i don't think i am ready. Helga Davis sang us to closure and in the wake of her song and his words that filled my heart and soul, i was a mess of memory and tears. and though i am back to functioning in the world, my heart is still processing it all. i am grateful for seeing so many faces and hugging so many people i haven't seen in far too long. my prayer is to move forward with love and reflection and intention.

i ain't seen much but i've seen a few
and a few things have seen me too...

As Salaamu Alaikum,
peace out, Sekou...

shia

2007-08-27T21:21:00.000-07:00

SCHOOL'S IN...
ALLAHU-AKBAR!!!

so the days have been full and getting more and more wonderful; more and more balanced. i feel the universe opening up for me, rather than swallowing me whole. life is progressing and that is a blessing. i am grateful.

and for my children, i am grateful. really. all of you, dear readers, know that i LOVE my children. i do. but summer feels endless (and not in the best way) for all parties involved when it's too hot to do anything but swim or stay in the air-conditioned house all day. (and ain't enuff love in the world to cure suffocating-cabin fever.) that's what the last few weeks of summer felt like for me and my sweeties in the lethargy of texas in august. what i wouldn't do for a bay breeze or a snow bubble. but school started today and we are all the better for it. after hunting for what was left of the school supplies in 3 stores (i know, i know... the early bird and all of that), we made it home sunday night just in time for baths, a good dinner, the teen choice awards (which is no longer for the early teenagers), nubian knots and twists for my daughter and our nightly meditation before bed. they were antsy and excited about the first day so there were no qualms about teeth brushing and early bedtime. they actually woke up on their own alarm and dressed according to their pre-determined list (wake up: 6:00... brush teeth: 6:01... get dressed: 6:02... put on "deoterint": 6:03... they obviously have no real concept of time, but it was so cute...). they checked off their list and were ready to go to school by 6:40, even though school doesn't begin until 7:45am. when i picked them up from after-school care, they both reported that their days were GREAT and they looked forward to the next. like i said... i LOVE my children...

i trained at a jobby job today (excuse me while i vomit) where i will work, through a temp agency for the next few days. the job itself is actually pretty cool. for those who have seen "the devil wears prada"... well... the woman i am working for came into my area and said in a hauntingly familiar voice, "so you will be the new emily?" yes, yes... the irony is that the woman i am filling in for is named emily and her boss is quite persnickety, hardly the devil, though i've only experienced her for a half of a day. but i will say that i am glad to be in the company of adults and missing my children long enough to look forward to seeing them and sharing the gems of our day with each other. the great thing is that we each look into the summer days (in hindsight) like we had the best summer ever.

onward and upward...
shia

2007-08-12T19:05:00.000-07:00

LIFE SENTENCE IN TEXAS, NO CHANCE FOR PAROLE...
but you have the right to remain optimistic!

so i am sitting in my favorite coffee spot clicking away at the keys of my laptop, terrance blanchard on iTunes in the moment (Diana Krall coaxing me to "Get Lost") with my fellow WI-FIers, nibbling what's left of the flakiest cinnamon roll in town and drowning my blues in iced coffee. what blues you ask? where do i start.

upon our return from cali, and subsequently hearing of sekou's passing, i felt this urgency for living. like transforming life beyond my mere existence of late and actually blazing a new trail. as my long-distance relationship moves into it's 3rd year and my longing to be with my aging grand/parents intensifies, i made the decision that there was no time like the present to make the move. furthermore, my ex and his significant other are newly expecting, my mother has finally found her groove in austin and the kids are mature enough to understand that there is more to this world than this little piece of life we've managed in on the outskirts of anything with a pulse. (that's not to call where we live "dead," it's just never quite felt full of life we haven't breathed into it. i digress.) we are all ready to experience "more." so why not make the move, right?

well, apparently, though i have the right to determine where the primary residence for my children will be, i/we are "geographically restricted to williamson and contiguous counties." what the hell???? what that means, dear laypersons, is that until my youngest (who is currently 8) turns 18, his father and i must live in central texas. had i known texas would become my life sentence, i would never have agreed to moving here. (though i BEGGED for us to move before now, and, well...) but c'mon y'all... how many things do we agree to in youth that end up fucking us up as adults?

since this discovery, i realized my membership into the sorority of miserable women inhabiting the hill country against their greater dreams, wishes and wills. in the blur of fairytales, they married some prince (or frog) and moved to the lone star state because of a husband's job/career/leadership/family/controlling ways/dreams, only to realize--post divorce--that they will be stuck with in the fires of this hell (and all that that implies) for what feels like an eternity. and it's not REALLY the "Law." the actual law allows for modifications of the decree "if the circumstances into which the parties are moving are better than those in the current living situation." but the interpretation of the law is left to the considerably conservative judges of the--in this case williamson county--courthouse. so, despite the fact that i have gotten TWO (MUCH BETTER PAYING) job opportunities in california, that i am currently receiving no support and that my familial support is entirely based in california, i have been warned more times than i care to mention that unless my ex agrees to allow his children to move out of state, a judge will likely rule against it because their father is present in their lives. (and he's made it clear that it will be a cold day in texas before he'll let them go.) you'd be amazed at the ridiculousness and fear that lives in our legal system.

the activist in me is writing this for your insight and support. while i understand the state's desire to create a cohesive co-parenting relationship for the children, it also leaves women unsupported and vulnerable to the well-meaning but often disabling or disruptive antics/ill-support/dysfunction/flagrant foulage of ex-spouses. (there is a reason the divorces happened, eh-hem!) under terms like these, men can marry and remarry and divorce and support their children--or not (because there is no real enforcement system)--and restrict maternal rights all together. repeatedly, i hear cases like mine where the mothers are the primary caregivers (who are responsible for the daily well-being of their children; through sickness and health; to the doctors, through co-pays and prescriptions; managers of all in and out of school activities) and they are living with more struggle than they should have to because they are not allowed to move to places, spaces and people that could help them better provide for their children.

not a word of this is to imply that my ex is a bad guy or that i am some kind of saintly martyr. we both have our faults. but i think our selfish needs get in the way of what is really best for our children. we should both be allowed to move on with our lives in whatever directions we are taken to create better lives for our children, so long as we continue to make efforts and take responsibility for staying connected.

i miss california too much to give up on the idea of being there. the dream of the day when we can return to seeing all of my parents, my aunts and uncles on a regular basis; spending our days in a family support situation with sweetie bubu and Q; being sweat-drenched and pretzeled at funky door yoga; and slurping snow bubbles. i wish for my children to grow up with their "Papa," uncles and cousins the way i did. (isn't extended family important?) with pause and apprehension, when i told my children of the possible move, they actually lit up at the thought of the adventure, these brilliant children of ours. they were more excited than i'd ever seen them. but i guess none of that matters in this moment because we are here until further notice.

i am spending this day like i spend many other "free" weekends in austin. praying that my children are having a good time with their dad while curled up with a book or online looking for work that might actually pay all of my bills. but more often than not, like today, i am alone with my coffee, my music, my memories and my hope that better is coming soon.

i'm getting a headache. it could be the caffeine and all the sugar. it could be the bright sky flooding the room around me. it could be that my eyes are aging and i should stop refusing to wear my glasses. it could be this issue. this exhale helps. as will a nap, i am certain.

prayers and positive energy, y'all. that's what we need. (and sound legal advice or options to explore if there are any offerings.)

i am grateful for my coffee and my music and my memories and my hope. and for you, dear reader.
in search of freedom...
shia

2007-07-19T17:08:00.000-07:00

Goodnight to/Good Mourning for
Sekou Sundiata

"...And what if we could
show that what we dream is deeper than what we know?..."
--Sekou Sundiata from the 51st (dream) state

i google him when the news first comes. i need something, someone, somewhere to tell me that elmaz is mistaken. that her information is somehow wrong. that sekou is not gone.

but there is nothing. and i cannot find the pictures we took with him the last time he read/worked with the austin project. i hold the memories of meeting him and walking in the dream state of his work. i don't think there was a time that i felt i was not enriched/changed by his presence. for that... thank you, sekou.

so many words swim in my head, so many poems creating themselves. but i don't want to fuck them up by writing them down. i want them to keep living. i don't feel equipped in this moment to express what i am feeling in an exquisite, deserving way. it is all too overwhelming. and i have no space for ascent into the beauty of what i learned from sekou nor the decent into the places of anguish that are lurking in the periphery of this day, this mourning of his passing. the kids in my house, mine and other people's, will not stop needing and the phone will not stop ringing. my knees are shaking under it all and i want to buy a candle in memory of his light. i need air. all of these children will not fit in my car so we walk to the park. i want to pick flowers on the way there but then i would be no better than the thing that clipped his life. so i admire them and look forward to seeing them on my journey home. i am overly aware of life and living. the trees. the birds. these flowers all reaching for/looking to the sky, face to the sun. these poems in my head are demanding attention but there are a group of shirtless, football passing Black boys in the park that are laughing and calling each other nigganigganiggabitchassnigga and i can't concentrate. i scribble a few words in my journal, even graffiti sekou's name because it's all i can manage. the boys, whose mothers (i am certain) would not appreciate the joy and volume of their words. i want to scold them or hold them or take them somewhere safer than this park where gavels sound in the eyes of all of homeowners and their white classmates parents. my daughter notices my annoyance with them and the sorrow just under my skin. she frets, "are you going to say something? please don't, mom." and i don't. and i take her and my son and my nephew and my niece and three neighbor girls away before they witness the ugly and the nigganigganigganiggabitchassnigga coming from these beautiful mouths.
i am in search of the journal filled with notes form his talks and the poem with the line about pigeons being better politicians (because they indiscriminately shit on everyone). i am grateful for it all. so much in so little time. so much. i hope he knew. i hope he knows.

if you've never heard (of) him or experienced his work, go to http://www.multiartsprojects.com/artist_index.php?artistid=11&sectionid=196
or go to youtube.com and search for the video of him from his appearance on HBO's Def Poetry Jam.

with gratitude and profound respect... (sekou, thank you. i wish you infinite joy. i pray for your family. i am changed by your mentorship, faith, activism, commitment, love, humanity, example.)

shia shabazz

i invite your comments/memories/experiences of Sekou and his work, in tribute...

2007-06-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

Hi-Ho-MASTER CLEANSE... AWAY!!!

thank you, val and nina for your wonderfully encouraging words. i am, in fact, back on the horse and feeling very good about it. i can do this. i can do this. i can, i can, i can!!!

since i missed the saline wash yesterday morning (each morning this week, in fact) i took it last night at like 10:30pm and WHOA!!!

Advice: if you drink the salt water at night, do it at least 3 hours before bed so your system can completely flush and find rest again.

INT. SHIA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Shia positions herself upright, reads books, paints her nails, and does everything she can think of to stay awake. Nothing works. She drifts off.

The rumblings of her stomach sound like a small monster encaged under her bed. She suddenly jumps up, runs to the toilet, just in time!

again and again, that’s what my night was like before i crashed.

the kids are with their dad this weekend so i’m sure it’ll be a lot easier since i won’t have to prepare food for them. as long as i can make it through these last two work days (of leftovers from meetings and the fluffy, iced baked goods coworkers have made) i’ll be all good. i think i’ll continue the cleanse through thursday next week. cuz friday… (at the Salute to African American Writers: Celebration and tea event [www.saawaustin.com]), i have a date with a nice decadent slice of fudge cake.

*smooches*
shia

2007-06-06T07:18:00.001-07:00

Master Cleanse: Day ??? insert... foot... in... mouth…
does that count as food?

so… what had happened was…

the cleanse was going great… my energy has been up… my skin looks good... i can fit in that pair of pants again... but 5 days in, my body had the definitive week that, on a monthly basis, defines me “woman”… and the cravings went wild and the discipline was out the window! and there were plenty of sympathetic women who understood that the salad and the tiramisu were necessary for my sanity… never mind cooking the fish sticks and the french fries, the broccoli and the spaghetti and the tacos and the roast beef sandwiches and the pancakes and the etc's every night for my children while restricting myself to morning saline solutions, sucking down lemonade for lunch and snacks and knocking back smooth moves tea every night… because when chipotle, your favorite burrito joint, says to bring in a can of food and they’ll give you a free burrito, you go… no questions asked… and you get a burrito bol (a burrito sans the tortilla)… and you get burritos for your kids and you eat with them like a family should… even though you learn that evening that all this means—this, the grapes and crackers and salad and burrito and tiramisu—this means that you have to do the entire cleanse over again because you can’t clean this new food out of your system in any less than the ten days, even though you’ve already lost six pounds and your mind!

breathing… breathing…

on the road again… i need to go back and read my own encouraging words. interestingly, though, i’ve gotten so many compliments on how great i am looking and how my skin is glowing. no coffee and i actually have energy. (imagine that.) of course, i just now look up and see a woman with a disposable starbucks cup. see how i attracted that cup of coffee? i feel good. i just want to do my body good and prove to myself that i am actually capable of 10 days of discipline.

oh! i have been participating in script frenzy which is a challenge for screenwriters to pump out a 20,000 word screenplay in 30 days. if you want to check it out, go to www.scriptfrenzy.org. i am a few words under 3000 into the task (almost done with act 1) and feeling extremely proud of myself. maybe my cleanse hasn’t been completely successful to date (until now) but i’ve been writing on this new script every day and it feels amazing!

and the countdown to my 2.5-week vacation in cali is on. 12 days and counting…

onward and upward…

shia

2007-05-30T16:10:00.000-07:00

Master Cleanse: Day 3
Still Grooven!

okay... per nina's comment on my previous post, and those of a bunch of other people who've unsuccessfully attempted this cleanse, i feel blessed to report that i am having a perfect time and i'm not sure what to make of it. (GO ASHLEY! i wish you and your friend all the best. believe you can do it and you will.)

i skipped the internal saltwater bath this morning because the temp agency called and i had a job today. (i'd hate to go in and be running to the bathroom all morning... or WORSE.) anyway, my plan is to do the gruesome deed shortly, intake 1-2 more lemonades, and drink my Smooth Moves before bed. my energy is great. last night, i battled a headache but i think that's been the worst REAL challenge of it.

the rest has been psychological. the foods i smell that inspire desires and cravings. the times of day i would usually eat this or that. cooking for my kids and not tasting or eating any of their leftovers. i never knew i had such discipline! but sipping tea all day makes it so much easier. it makes it hard to rationalize why i'd eat anything when i am really not feeling hungry. so now, i realize all of the lies i've told myself about what foods i need and when i'm "starving." in fact, i'm not sure i'll ever use that word again.

in this moment, i'm grateful. for strength. the focus. for food. for the blessing that this cleanse, this non-eating is a choice.

a bit of advice, post day 3: STILL don't trust anything that feels like gas. It's likely more than that.

all Love, from an internally CLEANER...
shia

2007-05-29T09:10:00.000-07:00

bodylicious! the master cleanse
lemonade never tasted so good!

on sunday, i celebrated the victory that i had been a finalist for the moviemaker "big money" scholarship. i also mourned the ultimate loss in that i was not the winner. (who needs canada anyway.) i had brunch with manda (one of my favorite people in the entire world) at our favorite french spot. (crepes romanoff... magnifique!) later, i ate my favorite peanut butter cookie from whole foods and had my last cup of cafe au lait at genuine joe. that night, i came home and wrote the following affirmation as i drank my first cup of Smooth Move tea in preparation for my 10-day Master Cleanse:

"in the space of 10 days, as i perform a Master Cleanse of my physical body, i intend to manifest wonderful things in my physical, emotional, spiritual, financial, career and intellectual worlds. all things will come about with undying Faith and Joy, effortlessly, consistently, graciously, abundantly and in ABSOLUTELY perfect ways."

a few bits of advice should you decide to take this journey:

write an affirmation or find a scripture, inspirational text or quote that you can read for support and empowerment through this. it really helps.
do plenty of research. maybe start with a google search on "master cleanse" like i did, where you can find sites like my faves:
http://www.geocities.co.jp/Beautycare-Venus/2032/english/master_cleanser.html,
http://yestheyrefake.net/lemonade_diet_cleanse_journal.htm and http://www.falconblanco.com/health/cleansing/lemoncleanse.htm
finally... if you ever run into my bestest friend charla, don't ever refer to it as the beyonce cleanse, considering the practice has been around long before beyonce and her bootyliciousness were conceived.

so far, it's been pretty easy. the internal salt water bath which preceeds each day's strict lemonade diet is the worst part. but once i made it through the initial intake and repeated release--yes, i said REPEATED release-- (which all happens in about the first hour of the process), the rest of the day was a breeze... physically. my only real angst has been getting to sleep these last couple of nights (maybe havin something to do with the tea moving in my system) but my sleep, once achieved, has been very restful.

this is (obviously) MUCH easier than Ramadan (Al-Humduli-lah) but i had the same psychological/emotional, hand-to-mouth, chew-your-food challenge. i keep smelling all of these smells that i associate with other sensations and satisfactions. so now, i am using those times for playing with my children, meditation, focus on clarifying goals and my intentions in the world, on screenplays and poems i have yet to write.

i am just finished my second day's first 10oz cup of lemonade. (it's very good.) on to mediation and the day's work.

onward and upward!
shia
also posted on www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly

2007-05-06T22:30:00.000-07:00

no enemies, no friends...
(integrity? what's that?)

i met a man who proudly said once that he didn't have any enemies. but when he relaxed his grin and rested his arms from patting his own back, he looked about and stood alone.

a part of me wishes i had never read bell hooks (all about love) or richard bach (illusions: the adventures of a reluctant messiah) or listened to anything bill harris (centerpointe/ "the masters of the secret") had to say. then i wouldn't know the possibilities. then i wouldn't have to live with the realization that so many people aren't living to be better people at all. it is painful to watch/see how many people opt for survival (of the "fittest"?) over living and loving to the fullest. it's like being among the dead. ("i see dead people!") dead from cut throats and broken hearts. slit wrists and broken claws of crabs boiling blood-red at the bottom of the barrel. men who think swords and shields are appropriate attire for dinner tables and family gatherings. (there is nothing brilliant or musical about that.)

i KNOW i live in a glass house so i am definitely not judging. but with this (most recent) awakening to loving and truth and walking with (com)passion, i am weeping. weeping for humanity. for people who deserve love and don't get enough of it. but also for the people who take love and strip it of all that it's worth... and none of what it's worth. those people who think words are fillers to use between reality shows, "i love yous" and the other lies they tell. people who serve promises like appetizers for a meal that never follows. people who might arrive at their destination, pop the cork on the champagne, with no enemies (that they know) but who will (most certainly) drink alone.

(PS-- no, this is not some cryptic message about my own broken heart. the love in my romantic life could not be more perfect, save the distance. this is, truly, about the inhumanity i've seen from the takers of the world. challenge #1--give something without wanting/needing/expecting anything in return. challenge #2--mean what you say.)

also posted on www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly

2007-04-03T06:23:00.000-07:00

Jogging for Jesus?

We live on the street along the back gate of my children's school. On the best of mornings--post our usual in-house haste of getting dressed, combing hair, brushing teeth, and gobbling pancakes and fruit--I open the front door and watch my children mosey/walk/jog/sprint (depending on the time) the short distance across the street, through the jogging trail, across the yard and into the school.

This morning, as with most mornings, there is a couple jogging on the track. When my son crosses the woman's path, her husband half a track behind or ahead of her, she hands him something that he reads to slow his gait. Before he can make it into the school door, my shoes are on and I've sprinted across the street to see what she gave him.

Worry #1... that he actually accepted the small comic strip from the woman

As I left my son, stomping back across the yard and onto the track, I stand in the woman's path as she approaches. "I have no problem with you offering this to me but do not approach my children or any other children without their parents' permission." She replies with a vigorous nod of her head, as if she doesn't care to listen, "Jesus loves you!"

Was that ever in question?

As she jogs on, I contain my desire to shake her. I think of the words I will give my children when I pick them up this afternoon about remembering not to talk to strangers nor to accept ANYTHING from them.

The front office of the school promises that the Principal will confront the woman and remove them from the grounds that we all take for granted are safe. And not that the woman necessarily meant harm. But, it was her entitlement that incensed me; that she thought she had the right to approach my son and impose her literature on him. Or that what his parents are giving him needed a supplement that she felt she COULD... no, that she NEEDED to give directly to him without my/our knowledge or consent. What is that? Because I am BEYOND CERTAIN that if I had chosen, upon my morning exercise, to offer her child or any other some colorfully animated leaflet that said, "Are you a good person? Allah thinks so," I'd be more than excused from the school track.

shia
(also posted on www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly)

2007-03-06T06:12:00.000-08:00

this is an excellent life.
i am grateful for all of the opportunities to witness/participate/journey and find that it's all love anyway

admittedly, i've been running from this space like a debtor from a lender. so much time has passed since my last entry that this coming to the keyboard feels more like a confessional than entry. (forgive me blogger, for i have sinned. it has been nearly 2 months since my last entry.) suffice it to say i need to be writing more... here, anyway. the good news about that is that (1) i HAVE actually been writing more-just not here-and (2) maybe i am just busy living life than writing about it. but i have missed coming here with all of my sweet somethings and rantings; with that "y'all know what i did last week?" excitement in ever keystroke. ah, the rush!

so what's been going on? or what hasn't been going on? thanks to denea's and ahmad's generosity, last thursday thru saturday (EARLY) i was in atlanta for the 2007 AWP conference. (i am hoping manda-manda and frank x and dante and remika and others with cameras will forward pix soon. dam, i need a digi-camera!) anyhoo, it was really an amazing couple of days, topped off by the fact that we stayed at my old college brotha-from-anotha-motha's house. before then, i hadn't seen ted since i graduated from "Skegee" in 1993. THAT, my friends, is the magic of myspace. don't have an account? GET ONE!) but i digress... is it enough to say that we had a CC reading on thursday night at the art gallery in the cosby center at spelman college? i was full from the gate! THEN, i sent 2 nights eating GLADYS KNIGHT & RON WINANS CHICKEN AND WAFFLES (grits and buckwheat waffles, man!). i did FINALLY actually make it to conference stuff, and attended some EXCELLENT panels. the best part was getting loved up by my favorite writer-peoples. (after writing a list and deleting it, i decided i will not mention names. you know who you are cuz you can feel me thinking about you all in the telling.) i am PARTICULARLY grateful to a few PARTICULAR people for thinking of me and including me and the huggings and kissing my cheeks and talking to me and breaking bread with me, for making my people your people and not making me out to be a liar about what amazing people you are. you all made my trip so much more memorable. overall, the atl was the isht!

sekou sundiata was in town performing in his show "51st dream state" at the hogg auditorium on ut's campus on the 29th of feb. AMAZING!!! i took the kids with me. it was too much for them on a school night. but i am glad they had the exposure, if nothing else. they were troopers. (did i mention that sekou is a genius?!) his poems. the muses/singers. the dancer filmed and projected on the large fabrics behind the full band. important work! it was beautiful!

the week before atl were the SAAW events in austin. that weekend was amazing but i was PRAYING all the way through it. roger bonair agard brought his show, masquerade: poems of calypso and home. (just when you thought he couldn't get any more amazing, he does a one-man poetry concert.) that was thursday, feb 22nd. friday, ana lara, curtis crisler and roger read and signed books at follett's intellectual property. i hear that went well. (my son was VERY sick that weekend so i was actually unable to make it to that one. but it was hosted in excellence by dr. joni jones/omi oshun olomo, as it was in conjunction with a conference and reception through the CAAAS.)

PHEW!!! see... this is why i run. my fingers are cramping and my mind is scrambling for the next remembering...

OH!!! that would be my trip to cali! i went to cali february 13-18. orchestrated a surprise birthday party for sweetiebubu that went off swimmingly! california was too good to me, i tell you. he had no idea i was coming, which was the first surprise. then, when i bamboozled him to coming to dinner, only to find out there were 25 other people at the table waiting on him... THAT was priceless! but being with my dad and my brother too. i didn't realize how much loving masculine energy i have been REALLY missing in my life.

oh! and my bestest friend, charla, came to visit just in time for my daughter's 10th birthday party sleepover. she and i proclaimed ourselves "bestest" friends nearly at the same age my daughter is now. we have been up, down and through it, and i STILL feel like we are learning so much about each other. my son's birthday is this friday. he'll be 8. GOSH they are growing up so fast. both will have topped my height, i am certain, by the ends of their fifth grade years. compassion, sensitivity, creativity, feet, chins and dance ability... they might have gotten from me but height!? it's all "they daddy." anyway, charla will be back later this month. we are going to do something fun with the kids and hopefully laugh until our guts hit the floor like we did last time. THAT was priceless.

other than all of that... i've been actively engaged in understanding "intention," as per my intention coach (props to sheree ross) and doing things around "the secret." if you don't know, where have you been? life-changing stuff y'all. (also check out "what the bleep do we know" on DVD.) all of that is to say that these days i have been busy espousing to the universe what i intend so that it can deliver. it really is amazing how the law of attraction works. i have been balancing that with prayer/meditation and reading. right now it's bell hooks's "all about love." life work is so necessary y'all.

funny thing is, even with all that i have written here, there is so much more going on. good things simmering beneath each word. but no real words to articulate it all. i am looking forward to lots of things to come. the international women's day readings at resistencia bookstore (7-9pm), though that is also my son's sleepover night so... here we go again. sharon bridgforth is hosting SEXY SUNDAYS at cafe mundi once a month (next one is March 24th). if you just want to go have a good ole time, i HIGHLY recommend this event. good people, good music (thanks to DJ Wu).

that felt like diarrhea! (you know how it all just starts coming out and on the other side of it you feel slightly nauseated but a little better because you got it all out?) forgive me y'all. this is what your similes turn into when you've been away so long. i will REALLY try to write more often so i don't have to subject you to foul-smelling similes anymore.

you KNOW i love you. and that's it.
shia SHABAZZ (fa-evah-evah!)

2007-01-31T09:12:00.000-08:00

INCOG-NEGRO

hopefully not outta sight, outta mind. i've been myspacing mostly these days. not long-winded blogging much. but i am here because the following info needs a stage and what better place, right? if you can manage, these are EXCELLENT classes and events to attend. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!
ciao for now...
shia

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NOTE: Class sizes are limited to 20. For more information and details, go to... http://www.writersleague.org/workshops.htm

POETRY WORKSHOP: WRITING A PATH TO TRUTH with Amanda Johnston
Saturday, February 10
10 AM - 4 PM
@ WLT Office (1501 W. 5th Street, Suite E-2)
REGISTRATION ENDS: FEBRUARY 2, 2007

Why do we write what we write? Is there something missing from your poem, something hinted at but not quite captured? "Writing a Path to Truth" is a workshop where participants explore the gray areas in their poetry, the parts unspoken or left undefined. Writing exercises used in this workshop are designed to create balance between the poet's personal truths and the technical aspects of their poetry. Participants may bring previously written poems to workshop; however, new work will be created and discussed.

Cave Canem Fellow and Affrilachian Poet, Amanda Johnston has performed across the country for various causes and events. Honors include a 2003 and 2004 Artists Enrichment grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women and the 2005 Austin International Poetry Festival's Christina Sergeyevna Award for best poem in their anthology, di-verse-city. Currently, Johnston serves on the board of directors for the National Women's Alliance and the African-American Arts Technical Resource Center of Austin, is a member of The Austin Project, a co-founder of The Gibbous Moon Collective, and is the founding editor of Torch: poetry, prose, and short stories by African American Women. www.torchpoetry.org.

Cost: $89 members / $139 nonmembers To register, email or call 512.499.8914.

WRITING / FROM THE BONES with Sharon Bridgforth
Saturday, February 17
10 AM -1 PM
@ WLT Office (1501 W. 5th Street, Suite E-2)
REGISTRATION ENDS: FEBRUARY 9, 2007

During this session, Bridgforth will employ a creative writing facilitation method that she has developed called "finding voice." The finding voice method helps participants use: identity-culture-memory-family histories-dreams to articulate and examine the spaces between and connecting autobiography and mythology/memory. This method uses guided journaling, movement, writing exercises and dialogue as a way for participants to manifest opportunities to move through and beyond blocks/issues that stifle full belly writing/Dreaming.

Sharon Bridgforth has developed an innovative style of teaching creative writing that she calls Finding Voice. The Finding Voice method walks participants through the process of using the personal: identity-culture-memory-family histories-dreams to articulate and examine the socio-political realities of their lives in a form that is based in oral history. Bridgforth has facilitated the Finding Voice Method as part of long term residency programming for companies and institutions around the country including: Hamiliton College~Clinton, NY; and The Austin Project (sponsored by The Center For African and African American Studies, University of Texas at Austin). Bridgforth is Executive Producer of the Finding Voice Radio Show, which is funded by the Funding Exchange/The Paul Robeson Fund for Independent Media. You can listen to the Finding Voice Radio Show at www.findingvoice.org. Bridgforth's work is available in many anthologies. For more information go to: www.sharonbridgforth.com.

Cost: $49 members / $89 nonmembers To register, email or call 512.499.8914.

TELLIN' LIES - A FICTION WORKSHOP with Ana-Maurine Lara
Saturday, February 24
10 AM -4 PM
@ WLT Office (1501 W. 5th Street, Suite E-2)
REGISTRATION ENDS: FEBRUARY 16, 2007

This workshop is for fiction writers interested in exploring the craft of fiction as an aspect of oral storytelling. We will explore narrative voice, character development and plot as key elements in the craft of writing. This workshop is designed to be used both with writing exercises and/or as working sessions on participants' own work. "Tellin' Lies" is geared to emerging - mid career writers who are interested in looking at craft in a different way. Participants should submit up to 10 pages of work at least 2 weeks prior to the workshop so that the course material can be matched to the level/needs of the participants. (You can email work samples to wlt@writersleague.org, or submit hard copy to the Writers' League office.)

Ana-Maurine Lara is an AfroDominican American writer and organizer. She was born in the Dominican Republic and raised in East Africa and Mount Vernon, NY. She received her BA from Harvard University. Ana-Maurine's poetry and short fiction has appeared in several literary journals including Tongues Magazine and Blithe House Quarterly, among others. She has received awards from the Puffin Foundation, the Brooklyn Arts Council and PEN Northwest (the Margery Davis Boyden Wilderness Writing Residency). She is co-author of bustingbinaries.com: a website dedicated to addressing binary thinking in U.S. based social justice movements.

Cost: $89 members / $139 nonmembers To register, email or call 512.499.8914.

2006-12-11T22:20:00.000-08:00

gettn bizzier and bizzier...
you may notice... my aging and tired eyes forced me to resort to using the larger font for this entry and, most likely, those to come.) the lettering looks so much clumsier, large like this. argh! i hope you'll get used to it. (hell, i hope i can get used to it.) anyway...

few weeks have been as busy as this one promises to be. we're just outta monday and i'm taking a deep breath for tuesday. i think i may have said yes too many times this week because, on top of all of the end-of-the-semester holiday celebratory hubub, my project and social calendars are brimming with appointments. (and even the "social" is more work oriented because so much of being a writer/artist-person has to do with being "social." but anyway… don't get me wrong... busy is good. i just pray this ain't the kind of busy that forms ulcers or inspires hair loss.

a couple of things, though, that you, dear reader, should know about...

Tuesday-Wednesday, December 12-13, 8pm. Hyde Park Theatre (511 W. 43rd) will present seven plays – "What Do You See?," "Jaywalking," "Learning English," "Hippy," "1000 S. Kelly," "Probably Not a Play," and "Tree" – with an excellent cast under the direction of Ken Webster. It's a part of 365 DAYS/365 PLAYS. Background: The acclaimed playwright Suzan-Lori Parks wrote a play a day for an entire year, back in 2002. Now, in 2006, every single one of those plays is going to be staged at various venues all across the U.S.: New York, Seattle, Los Angeles, and so on. But Austin is where this yearlong cycle will begin, so get set for 10 weeks of theatre – with short plays of only 10 minutes, perhaps, and longer ones of 20 or more – as only Suzan-Lori Parks can write it.

Thursday, December 14th, 10:30am – noon at BookPeople. former President (and my birthdate mate) Jimmy Carter will be signing his book, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid. you have to purchase a voucher, which also buys you the book at $27+ but it am CERTAIN it's worth it.

Thursday, December 14th, 6pm. CARVER BRANCH FREEDOM BOOK CLUB spirits up Kindred by Octavia E. Butler. Carver Library, 1161 Angelina, 472-8954. Led by Austin Project's own Courtney Morris!!!

Saturday, December 16th (Dinner at 6pm; Readings at 7pm) at The Rhizome Collective, 300 allen street t 5th, austin (78702)
Areyto: a gathering of Caribbean artists featuring readings by Ana Maurine Lara, Carole Metellus, Courtney Morris, Leo Guevara, Rebeca Castellanos. Musical performance by Cuban Hip Hop group Las Krudas.

Delicious Caribbean Menu includes: Dominican (vegetarian) Pastel en Hoja, Haitian Chicken, Cuban Rice and Beans and more!

Cost: $5.00 suggested donation (no one turned away) Donation includes copy of program book with work by featured artists! For more information contact MC Wura: wuraola@gmail.com or call 512.448.2429

Sunday, December 17th, SLEEP… Oops! Sorry… that was a mental note.

see you all about town!

Love and Truth,
shia

2006-12-03T22:50:00.000-08:00

Am I really in AUSTIN?!?!
pinch me... i must be dreaming...

first, let me say that i know i need to invest in a digital camera. (donations are accepted.) it's hard to capture all of the goings on without pictorial representations but i will beg/bum/borrow/steal what i can, where i can for you, dear reader; so that your journey with me in this recounting of experiences is as technicolor as possible.

so this past week has been a bit of an out-of-austin experience. or maybe it was an absolutely austin experience. i haven't figured it out yet. but there were moments that made me feel like the landscape was shaping itself into something beautiful and amazing and worth staying for, even despite the horrid heat of spring, summer, fall and part of winter. (yes, i still threaten to move when the mercury rises. it's ritual.)

it started last tuesday when i had the privilege to participate in a "poetry circle" with sekou sundiata and several other completely brilliant members of austin's poetry community. (for pics, see www.amandajohnston.blogspot.com) this was the second "stage" i've shared with sekou and again i am changed. the man is doing necessary, amazing activism and artistry that i am blessed that the universe finds me worthy to witness and take part in. the conversation was a part of his work "the 51st dream state" which critically examines the poet's post 911 awakenings as... an american.

on friday, my children and i filed and piled into resistencia bookstore with hoards of other folks to hear poet, activist and all-around bad ass writer ana-maurine lara read from her newly released novel, ERZULIE'S SKIRT. she was accompanied by the drumming of tonya lyles who is amazing by all accounts. it is worth mentioning that the art on the cover of the book was done by a wonderfully talented friend/sister artist, wura.

friday was also the release of the inaugural issue of TORCH. check out www.torchpoetry.com to view it. TORCH is the brainchild of super-woman amanda johnston. again, i am blessed to bear witness and be a part.

saturday, international singer/theatre artist helga davis gave a free show at the ut. where else in the world could you experience helga davis FOR FREE?!!?!?! she was spellbinding! BREATH TAKING! adequate words fail me, really, so i will simply direct you to krissy's website for a few pics. (they don't show the performance at all but they capture at least some element of the joy in the evening.) Enjoy... http://www.dykeumentary.com/helga/helga.htm

saturday night was a full exhale, complete with a party at "the treehouse" in imani's honor before she leaves us for singapore shortly (sniff, sniff), followed by plenty of kahlua, erica's birthday and red ruffled panties (don't ask), a limo ride, salsa dancing, reggae, telling the village idiot that he was full of shit and beef bacon from katz's. (sounds like a perfect night, right?) needless to say i spent most of today recovering. i'm just glad i have so many pictures to engage the memories.

that's it for now, y'all. i'm tired. i have a feeling it's going to be a busy week.

2006-11-17T08:16:00.000-08:00

www.shiashabazz.com
IT'S OFFICIAL!!!

for those of you who did not know, I recently got seriously into web design (within the last 6-8 months). and...well... these months and 6 websites later, I am ready to officially proclaim myself a capable web designer. check out my site (uploaded just this morning)... www.shiashabazz.com. some of the links are still misfiring and not all of the links work yet but it should all be worked out shortly.

my formal business site is at www.groovenbuttafly.com. check this one out thoroughly to get to know my services.

my most recent client was www.thestripeproject.com. (obviously all links work on hers. It's just my own site that I am sleeping on.)

anyway, should you find yourself in need of a capable web designer (or graphic designer in general) give me a shout. and don't hesitate to refer clients as well. (i'm carpe dieming!)

mad love and DEEP THANKS to AMANDA JOHNSTON for mentoring me as a quasi-programmer!

I guess that's it for now. I am blogging and myspacing so if you want to be friends or keep up socially, I'm there. (www.groovenbuttafly.blogspot.com and www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly) otherwise, I am designing and writing and writing and designing.

always love,
shia shabazz
site: www.shiashabazz.com
blog: www.myspace.com/groovenbuttafly

"We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting." --Kahlil Gibran

2006-11-15T06:06:00.000-08:00

it's a great weekend to live in austin!!!

write that one down in your records cuz i'm not sure how many times you'll hear me saying that with such enthusiasm. (okay, that's not true. post-summer... for the 3 weeks it's actually below 90 degrees, i DO, in fact, REALLY like austin.)

for me, things have been quite chaotic. many ups, some downs. the ebb and flow of life, i guess. friends seem to be coming and going but love (close and/or distant) remains. (yes, this is cryptic. no need for specifics this time, lovelies. my purpose here is not to vent or lament.) here is info about a few events happening this weekend. the kids and i are going to make the 2 plays (Insha-Allah). and with sweetiebubu's band mates, jubu and carl, playing in town with maze (feat. frankie beverly, of course), GOTTA go!

finally, a thought... (as posted on my myspaceblog... "if you cannot see the beauty in every person you encounter, don't pity them, pity yourself."

wishing you wealth,
shia

EVENTS TO NOTE:
(events not on this list are failures of my head, not my heart. let me know what they are.)

On FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 17 at 8:00pm, come to THE PFLUGER PEDESTRIAN BRIDGE (corner of Riverside/Lamar) for a very special performance by ZACH artists!!! ZACH artists will perform 7 mini plays on the bridge (approx. 40 min. in length) The event is FREE and open to the public – bring friends and family! (NO RSVP required) Audience talkback with Pulitzer and Tony Award winning playwright Suzan-Lori Parks ("Topdog/Underdog") AFTER-PARTY AT ZACH! Enjoy free food, drinks and live music immediately following the performance at ZACH's Kleberg Theatre. (sent to me from wura ogunji)

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 18 at 8:00pm
maze featuring frankie beverly at the frank erwin center
(nuff said!)

Steve Moore's latest play Kneeling Down at Noon makes a pilgrimage to the truth of Islam--a misunderstood faith. The play runs through NOVEMBER 19, Wednesday-Saturday, 7:30pm, at the Mary Moody Northen Theatre on the St. Edward's University campus, 3001 S. Congress. For more information, call 448-8484. (from the austin chronicle)

2006-10-17T19:37:00.000-07:00

a few pix i stole from mandy's blog...

I never upload photos properly. either they are too large for blogger or they are too small to see anything. so i'm attaching these of the beautiful large group, of my roomies (randall, manda and curtis) at "samiya-miya's" house, and of me posing with LL's "round the way girl" song in my head. let me redirect you to manda-manda's and reggie harris's blogs. they have better postings. again, you might also check my myspace. i have better luck uploading there. there are also many, many photos on snapfish. give me a holler and i'll let you view them if you are interested. read the blog below for details on the trip. more soon...
love,
shia

2006-10-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

coffee... check. english muffin... check. memories... check!

my flight left new york's jfk airport at 7:55am yesterday, though i had been up, packing and traveling to the airport since 5am. i landed in austin at 11am, give or take. my mother in her usual excitement and worry, waded through passengers and luggage near the baggage claim, waiting to hear every detail of what she KNEW would be an exciting trip. but i hit the ground running because my job didn't have a sub for me and my son's class had their annual music recital immediately after i picked them up from after-school care. after dinner and homework, i got online long enough to read a few emails then returned a couple of phone calls. by about 11:30pm, (which in real-people time is like 8:30pm, give or take), i knocked out.

i've been crafting my to do list since i got back and getting all of these things done, in this week, will be no small fete. unpack. catch up on the graphic design and film projects that have been impatiently awaiting my return. blog. check for new myspace friends. read random poems from the books i purchased this weekend; cave canem's gathering ground (FINALLY) and the cc 10x10 poetry series, tyehimba jess's leadbelly and afaa michael weaver's multitudes. make a go at compiling the poems for "conversations..." return a few more phonecalls. send emails. FINALLY mail the thank you cards from my birthday celebration. and if there is any time/energy left, wash a few loads of clothes. so i promised myself to keep this entry brief, lasting only as long as this mug of my favorite puerto rican coffee and my buttery (not margariney) whole wheat muffin with blackberry jam.

what i will say about the weekend is that seeing all of the beautiful women and men of cave canem again was beyond beautiful. beyond amazing. beyond inspiring. so, rather than writing anymore narrative about the weekend, or trying to name all of the people, places, spaces, i have attempted a (PARTIAL) list of people, places, spaces i am indebted to and grateful for:

hugo, the towncar driver
sushi, like raw delicious exquisitely crafted poems
my little sister devouring sushi like poems she's never read
reunions of self with selves
dante's cravat and velvet smoking jacket
remika and samiya
the cocoon of samiya's bed and down bedding
cheap chinese food
dave chappelle's block party
central park
cuny, st. mark's, the schomburg and the lgbt center
poets piled in bruised and battered lincolns passing for taxis
fierce cc faculty and fellow readings
poets in parks for pictures
pilfered purple and white perennials
conversations over fried spring rolls and coconut soup in chichi restaurants about the poetics of fucking
mandy's matrix
doug kearney and holly bass in the groove of any beyonce or prince song
chocolate and vanilla ice cream cake
corona longnecks and shots of "fingernail polish remover" (LOL)
japanese kanji symbols
the woman from jersey on the subway
meat patties, fried cheese and casava
the woman afraid of black people in the subway station
the man with the afro and white velcro shoes
reggie harris's resume
natives (the restaurant) and plantains
da riddem of any linton kwesi johnson poem
baraka's pointer finger
tara betts, "sweetie bubus" and multi-linguality
reheated meat patties, fried cheese and casava
hugo, the towncar driver
the man who moved me beyond the security line at jfk
jet blue
my momma for the birthday gift of the airline ticket that took me to nyc

my coffee and muffin are long cold and gone, respectively, which means i spent far more time in this space than intended. i am in search of pictures to accompany the memories so if you have any, send them... PLEASE. you might also check out amanda's blog. (my favorite picture is my black girl pose... standing on the stoop of samiya's apartment while thinking, "sittin'-on-a-busstop-suckin'-on-a-lollipop...") i have my own set from a throw-away camera that (with any luck and consciousness) will be put into the shop, developed and uploaded by week's end. (we'll see... check back.)

enuff for now, m'loves. i am trying to regain my footing from this wonderfully beautiful and complex weekend. wish me luck...

always love,
shia

2006-10-09T20:22:00.000-07:00

i'm back though a bit out of sorts...

i haven't written a poem in weeks, maybe months by now. (i wanna be ric williams when i grow up. he writes daily.) my horoscope keeps saying something brilliant is supposed to come outta me sometime soon. (fingers drumming on the table of my mind.) i'm trying to be patient. i am happy about getting back to this space, though. it helps. lately, life has been a reel of wonderful and amazing events that i have had no time to translate. i guess the beautiful inevitability, though, is that i preserve that thing that manages to get lost in the telling. so i move through the days with the knowing of these things in my breath, heart and memory.

my birthday made clear so many wonderful and painful things that age and change always manage to illuminate. but the rays of light shone through in some of the most beautiful spirits i am privileged to know. so my deep, sincere, loving thanks to mommaggievaldeneasarahjathiaclaudiarachelmeregizzyfrancis for bringing and sharing so much of yourselves to the ringing in of my 36th year. and MAD LOVE to firesong for the gift of your hands and the paint that made beautiful faces moreso. i am grateful... i am grateful... (pictures are coming soon.)

our new home (*smile, wipe tear, sniff*) welcomed it's share of guests these past 10 days; in honor of my birthday and because the universe made it so. denea started the propulsion of the revolving door, whipping in and out of austin from houston for my birthday and some sistafriend time. (denea, if you are reading this... we GOTTA make it more than 12 hours next time, girlfriend.) but she's the kinda friend that hours feel like years, so in our case, we feel like we've known each other WAY longer than our meeting at VONA in june. on my actual birthday (October 1st), sweetie bubu arrived just in time to make good things better and turn the flat tire we got on the way back from the airport into an adventure. his visit, this time sunday to wednesday morning, just didn't seem enough time to make up for what's not present the months in between. but i'll take a quick visit over the phone calls any day. so, again, i am grateful. no doubt the quality of our time was great enough to hold me until the next visit. (i'tll have to.) finally, my "bestest" friend since 8th grade (chawa) made her entrance just as bubu left which made bubu's and my departure drier than times prior. "chawa" and i kicked it retro in the 5 days she was here which gave me back pieces of myself that i hadn't realized were lost. she's the friend i went through my first boyfirend and kiss with; debarge and luther; the snatchback/asymmetric hairdo and washington dances. i swear i thought we were the same person until... well... we still lapse into moments of confused identity. (i am she... she is me...)

chawa left on sunday and my world is back to the quiet wonder of what it was. i am FINALLY checking email regularly again and completely and fully (p)re-occupied with my children, my momma and the ever-challenging world of kids at wooten; trying not to be desperate or too needy for all of the people i know here with their own lives to keep them busy (working from home can do that to you); trying not to sit at this computer and work myself into a coma; trying to be present and appreciative of each joint in each finger that clicks each key; trying and trying and so on... and so on...

before i go... i MUST wish a public happy (belated) birthday to my sister, Maisha (September 29th) and my brother, Saleem (September 30th) whose experiences have taken them to georgia and china, respectively. i feel like i have fought for so many years for my actual birthday to be acknowledged (on Oct. 1st, the last in the 3-day shabazz-birthday-palooza) that i realize each year we are not together, how very much i miss them. what i wouldn't have given to have a big cake with all of our names on it. so much love... so little time. shout to the abundance of virgo/libra/scorpios i know who have been/will be celebrating... CHEERS!

always love,
shia

2006-09-28T19:23:00.000-07:00

Ramadan Mubarak!
if you have never noticed how much of our lives revolve around what we eat or what we are not eating... fast.

i was sick the first few days of Ramadan so today was my first successful day of fasting. (Allahu-Akbar!) the kids i taught today tried every bit of my patience (could have driven a fasting Muslim to eat) but i made it through with my hunger-breath intact.

my daughter called me 30 minutes before sunset/time to break fast and feared she was too hungry and couldn't make it. she has been beautiful and amazing and so proud of herself. (though only a fraction as proud as i am of her.) so we stayed on the phone until she pushed past the moment. today she made it through her SECOND day of fasting (Al-Humdulillah [sp?]). before we knew it, we were saying a prayer together on the phone--her at her brother's football practice, me at my theatre action project meeting--and broke our fasts over pizza and cheesey goldfish.

i love ramadan. it gives me the time and clarity to fully love moments like these. Allahu Akbar!

2006-09-21T08:29:00.000-07:00

broken wings and pixie dust

so i always thought i'd be the kind of parent who lived in absolute truth with my children. well, obviously protecting them with only age appropriate info. but i mean, no santa claus or Easter rabbity fairy-liciousness (considering we are Muslim), no sand man, boogymen or tooth fairies... until my daughter lost her first tooth. her newly snaggled-toothed smile was too cute not to spend whatever change i could muster on. then her brother some years later, his smile proud and perforated. i've been nickeled and dimed ever sense for the teeth falling into dinner plates and cupped palms; from corn cobs and apples. but last night, when my daughter put one of her last 2 baby teeth under her pillow, her brother, whom i thought was still in the brilliant bliss of childhood tales, whispers, "there is no tooth fairy, hunh mommy? the parents just put the money under the pillow." somewhere not so deep inside, i was kinda sad. somehow his disbelief equated to a loss of some believing part of him. and it would be gone forever.

the next morning, as i shake them into the waking world, my daughter stretches; eases her hand under her pillow to recover the dollar i will surely find later, neglected on a countertop, in a pocket of dirty clothes, crumpled in the bottom of her backpack. her lips purse. "you gave me this." "i don't know what you are talking about," i respond nonchalantly. her brother sits up like her partner in this impromptu interrogation. "mom," her eyes roll into her head as she says, "when we lived in the old apartment, one time i woke up and my tooth was still under my pillow. and i closed my eyes again cuz i didn't want to get up yet and i felt your hand go under my pillow, take my tooth and give me money." they both glare at me, smirks simmering at the corners of their mouths like "we ain't stupid". i threw my hands in the air but admitted to nothing. not to being the tooth fairy. not to the fact that they are older and wiser and no longer believers in my fairy wings and pixie dust.

2006-09-08T23:29:00.000-07:00

insomnia
so i'm writing...

i can't sleep. no reason in particular. (at least not that is present in my mind right now.) just restless. maybe it was the chaos of the day with the kids i teach (which feels a bit more regular now. too many details for my tired hands and heart to type tonight.) maybe it's the surprise of the sleepover happening in my livingroom tonight. the endless giggle of girls crushing on chris brown whom my daughter says she is going to first marry, then divorce so she can marry (for the purposes of this blog) the nameless-faceless boy who sits at the table near hers in the cafeteria at lunchtime. (i fear i have set the wrong example. i try to explain the point of marriage and finding the ONE and lifelong relationships, even though her dad and i didn't have one... but she ain't hearing it. she watches and learns and knows she has options and promises to exercise them, should she have to. astute at nine. i don't think i knew a quarter of what she does, when i was her age. i guess the worries for her and her brother alone can be enough to keep any mother up nights. not to mention the deadlines and rent and writings that aren't happening and a serious lack of dark chocolate. maybe i should just lay down. yes. i'll try that. sleep will come...

2006-09-06T21:07:00.000-07:00

day two: may-day! may-day!

today started with a group of supremely attitudinal 4th and 5th graders; a different group than the ones i had yesterday. (there are 6 groups total. each day we spend 2 sessions with 2 different groups. some we will have once or twice a week. others, 2-3 times.) the first hour (with these kids) was an hour of finger pointing and just plain unruliness. so, instead of playing games and doing activities, i had them write. since you are having a problem with respect, for yourself and others, write 5 things you like about yourself. LOAD GROANS. "okay miss," they plead. "we'll play." (you'd think i'd asked them to lick the floor. at that age, i guess anything would be better than saying what they actually like about themselves, right?) after being FORCED to recite one of the "likes" in a circle, i gave them the excruciating task of picking a classmate's name from a bag and saying one nice thing about the person they chose. DOUBLE GROAN. but after each student said what they liked about the person they picked, i said what i liked about the student as well. but time was up and, by then, we had worked ourselves into something that actually looked productive.

maybe it is because by the 2nd hour, the kids are just too damn tired to be interested but somehow 2nd and 3rd graders were the most challenging. they were my 2nd session of the afternoon. at this age, they aren't quite as manageable as older kids and they aren't as easily captivated as younger kids. i had to actually order one child to a desk to put his head down. several others would talk almost IMMEDIATELY after i tell them to stop. Oy vay!!! i finally gave up and took them to the playground.

i am REALLY going to sit down this weekend and to plan next week's activities. no more white flags for me. (but plenty of PRAYER, man. prayer.)

2006-09-05T22:21:00.000-07:00

i'm try-lingual!

today was a complex mix of fun and frustrating futility. it was the first day of my theater action project (TAP) artist's residency and it had very little to do with my well-crafted syllabi. my 4th and 5th graders were cool, save the prebubescent outbursts and clique-ishness. we at least made it through a couple of games which inspired dialogue. the real challenge was my K-1 class where a good 4 or 5 students spoke less english than i do spanish. (for those who know my EXTREMELY limited spanish vocabulary, you KNOW today was painful at times. i am grateful, though, that we did all make attempts which should fair much better by semester's end.) but to add to the chaos, try having 10 interpreters, at once! i am really grateful for their enthusiasm but i needed a nap afterwards. (maybe i'll catch up tomorrow.)

so one little girl and i just ended up staring at each other. each time, some kind of stand off. she said her name before and after i did. (so we ended up saying it over and over again because i was APPARENTLY saying something wrong). she'd say a speedy sentence and I'd repeat it in slow, broken spanglish to try and make sense of it. i kept getting it wrong and it kept getting worse because i couldn't hear the difference between what she was saying and what i had said the first and third times. (cue the 10 interpreters!) i'd roll my R's. i made "la" into "ya." but my last syllable always ended raised. a question. hers ended in emollient giggles. i finally understood what all of those school teachers felt like over the years as they mangled my not-so-common-name through their lips behind Susans and Jennys and Cindys.

anyway... we survived. and i can't wait to see them all again tomorrow once i sort through the crayon bits and uncapped markers (what is left of my supply basket). yep... i can't wait. chaos and all. (God help us!)

g'night,
shia

2006-09-04T22:12:00.000-07:00

one last thing...

...before i go to bed. i have an early start to my day tomorrow so i'll be brief. i am recovering from quite a long weekend of bowling and entertaining and belly dancing. (THANK YOU CAMILLE! i am definitely going to purchase a coin-heavy hip scarf when i can afford it!) plus, there is a mosquito annoying the hell outta me. i'm not sure if my spastic jerk-and-scratch are paranoid fits or real mosquito landings. i guess i'll find out in the morning.) after i get the kids off to school, i am participating in a commercial shoot AND it is my first day teaching in the afternoon. most of the children in my classes will be ESL to my understanding. (¿Cómo se dice, "oh shit!"?) but i am sure (and assured) that we'll all not only survive but be so much wiser because of the experiences to come.

anyway, i am on my way to bed but i had to post these things first. i hope to see you all at flo's show. she's amazing. (for those of you who complain about not hearing about good community performances, etc, now's your chance to support local art(ists).) also, check out d'lo at http://www.mtvdesi.com/. she's the bald sri lankan pointing at you in the flash features. she's in and out of austin throughout the year, when we are lucky. off tha chain.

good night, loves...
(yaaaaaaawn)
shia

DON'T MISS FLORINDA BRYANT'S NEW WORK:
HALF-BREED southern fried Check One
An In shop worked production
Directed by Laurie Carlos
Written by Florinda Bryant
Friday, September 8th, 2006 at 8:00 pm
CAAAS Reception Immediately Following Performance
&
Friday, September 15th, 2006 at 8:00 pm
ProArts Collective Reception Immediately Following Performance

Additional Performances September 9th, 10th, 16th, & 17th. Performances on Fridays and Saturdays will begin at 8:00 pm. Sunday performances will begin at 2:00 pm.

All performances will be held at The Oscar G. Brockett Theatre (inside the Winship Drama Building on the UT Austin Campus located at 23rd & San Jacinto)

$5 Suggested Donation to Defray Production Costs

This production is part of the Performing Blackness Series sponsored by the Center for African & African American Studies at the University of Texas at Austin.

For more information, call 471-1784 or visit us on-line at www.utexas.edu/cola/centers/caaas/.

2006-08-31T06:36:00.000-07:00

the weather is changing

yesterday afternoon, when it was still sweltering, unlike this morning's jacket worthy cool, my children and i talked about our days. one of the questions that lingers in my heart from training for my new [artist-in-residence] job is [essentially] "why did you choose this job?" i watch my children drool over the things i report to them that i've learned and want to share with my groups of kids when i am with them. "it's A LOT of fun," i tell them. they look more excited with each detail. "can we come?" "tomorrow," i tell them. my son reports that math is SO easy and that he got a green today so i can calculate that [.50] into his good behavior allowance for the week. my daughter quickly and competitively remembers that she got a green as well. then she remembers...

(maybe someday in her own blog, my daughter will tell you the real names of the girls involved. until then...)

"...oh, so mommy, ally said she wasn't going to be my friend anymore because i gave jen a jolly rancher and not her. then she said if she ever saw kay do something she didn't like, she was gonna beat her to the ground. she thinks because she's bigger than everybody else, she can just be mean and bully people. THEN," (my daughter takes a break to crunch another funyun. "mena and aliyah were talking about starting a prayer club and they asked me to join and then i asked ally if she wanted to join. well, mena says, in a REAL nice way, mommy, that ally can't really join because if any non-Muslims pray with us then our prayers will be unpure." she crunches another funyun. "and then ALLY says, 'i'don't care. i'm going to have my own club anyway. and anyway, do you believe Jesus dies for your sins?' and mena says, 'no,' and ally says, 'well then you can't go to heaven anyway and you are going to h-e-double-hockey-sticks.' then she looks at me and says, 'um, i'm not going to be your friend if you are going to be their friend because they aren't going to heaven." then i ask, "well, sweetie, did you tell her you are a Muslim?" still crunching funyuns, she says, exasperated, "YES, mommy. she KNOWS i'm a Muslim. but aliyah was starting to cry and i got mad and i told the teacher and ally got in BIG trouble." "well, sweetie, you know lots of people believe a lot of things. and that's okay." more exasperated, she throws her hands in the air. "I KNOW! that's why i can be her friend even if she's a Christian. but i knew wasn't going to be her friend anyway. because that's dumb. she was going to not be my friend because i gave jen my jolly rancher." she rolls her eyes and turns to the window. "yeah, that's dumb," my son chimes in shaking his head.

i look at them and remember ally and understand, more clearly in that very moment, why i took the job.

2006-08-30T06:28:00.000-07:00

rush hour (the daily routine)

kiss sleeping faces pressed into my ribs. (stowaways) shake them gently. whisper the time. prod them into the bathroom. zombies. i flip on the light. eyes/bodies wince. want to drag themselves back to covers and dreams. clap hands to enliven limp, swaying limbs. squeeze toothpaste from tubes onto bristles. hug cold body, kiss forehead. clap to recover son sleeping on toilet. wipe sleeping face with warm washcloth; clear crust from corners of sleepy eyes and mouths. come, come now. listen to whines and whimpers of not enough sleep and how her brother is looking at her. raise voice a bit. this is taking too long. remind them of time. they brush. i prepare clothes and overstuffed backpacks. return just in time to defuse angst about who's going faster. it's not a race. i clap twice. remind them to focus. stomps out of bathroom. put clothes on. "remember when we were..." he picks up his gameboy as he talks. focus sweetie. we gotta get outta here. he puts his game down, finds his socks. complains that they are too big. the sock bag is too big and full with orphans so we fold the sock to a perfect fit. by now, she is waiting on the steps like we are taking long. she waits with a snack for her brother and one for herself. i make whole wheat english muffins. half with butter only. half with butter and black raspberry jelly. our favorite. they share a cup of juice and we scramble for the door as i realize the time. we hug, kiss, wish each other a good day. my son combs his hair all the way across the street. (i will later look for the comb for at least a solid 7 minutes before i remember it in his school bag.) they wave a final goodbye. I kiss the wind and they disappear into the school.

2006-08-29T06:45:00.000-07:00

thank God for cell phones!

i dialed his old boston cell number because he said he'd keep it even after their move to china. my youngest brother and his wife (for whom i performed the wedding ceremony last year, if you remember from a previous blog) moved to beijing in late july (early august, maybe). when i heard his voice, a wave of relief and love kept me from saying all of the things i meant to say. i was glad to hear that they landed safely, settled in and were untouched by the storms that ravaged [some parts] of beijing. he laughed and we offered our usual sighs of love and longing for less distance. i suddenly regret all of the drives we didn't take to houston when he lived there and appreciate all of the ones we did.

i last saw him at his going away party in san diego in late june. he sounds well, very well... nearly euphoric in fact, in a way that colors is usual monotonality into various octaves. he tells me the community he lives and works in there doesn't feel much different than his job as a teacher in other parts of this country or the world he'd lived in or visited for internships. (the stints in mexico and the netherlands.) the teachers are from all over the world. (none, save him, are black of course.) ok... rewind... there was one MAJOR difference... the vast difference and pay and respect he enjoys in as a teacher for children of the diplomatic community in china versus his former Teach for America or the boston unified school district teaching positions. there seems very little that he, his wife, or the children they teach, want for. the house they live in is bigger than the two of them need and the house keeper, he says, feels a bit excessive. he says he's been there too short a time, thus far, to accept of reject any of it as it is all still a bit surreal.

he goes on the tell me that beijing has about 3 times the number of people in it, within the same land mass as an overcrowded american city like new york or l.a. twice the number of skyscrapers. an exponetially higher number of bike riders. (he said he circled the shopping mall parking lot for a space to park his bike. REALLY!) and the street vendors... well, i was reminded of trips to tijuana in his telling of it. everything is negotiated/negotiable. people are peddling their wares for whatever they can get. you need a bootleg of maimi vice (yes, the jamie foxx version)? $1! a coach purse? $12! shoes, clothes, watches, purfumes, YOU NAME IT YOU BUY IT CHEAP! as a filmmaker, my political sensibilities want to scold him for even CONSIDERING the purchase of bootleg videos. how am i supposed to survive in an industry where even my family is buying bootleg? but, because television is censored there, they only get 3 channels. (HBO is somehow a lot less interesting with no curse words or partially nude scenes, ya know?) after the first 3 days of "friday the thirteenth" (which apparently is suitable for all audiences at all times of day), how could i blame him?

he finally told me that he also enjoys a bit of celebrity there as a nearly 6 foot tall black man with a large wavy afro. a man recently handed my brother his baby (which would have freaked my brother out) then held up his camera. he and his wife smiled and obliged the man but wondered what international star they might mistake him for. or maybe it was just a marvel to see him walking among them. in some spaces, he says kids smile and point only to have their hands swatted for the disrespect of acknowledging my brother's spectacle. in others, mostly in spaces with jaded by american culture, there are many smiles, secret glances and a quiet reverence for the possibility of celebrity.

i devour each morsel of his new life like popcorn and a bootleg flick. when he runs out of things to say, i update him on my life in this part of america. he likes hearing about the kids and how much they've grown since he saw them last. i really need to send him pictures.

i chop it up with his wife a bit. we laugh lots and agree that shopping helps bridge language barriers and quell homesickness. she has learned more mandarin taxi instructions than my brother has so far and she's proud of that. in the states, he learned spanish faster. (i realize how many languages i take for granted and find myself looking for my "learn spanish" cd. perhaps i will call my haitian friend who forces the french i refuse to speak, out of me. i should be a better equipped global citizen.)

i don't want either of them to stop talking because i realize, as the conversation hems and haws toward its end, how much i miss them. but they are tired and off to be. i am starting my day. we are worlds away. but, thank GOD for cell phones!

2006-08-28T19:27:00.000-07:00

ok, try it now...

www.groovenbuttafly.com.

it's LIVE!!!

2006-08-27T20:36:00.000-07:00

I's FREE!!! I's FREE!!!

it's been far too long since i've written here. (anywhere for that matter.) i know this mostly because i have a-thousand-and-one things my hands and eyes are too tired to report at this late hour. so i am certain to short change all of the wonderfully fantastic happenings of the recent past (like "nationals" where i got to hang with old and new friends like rogerandwammoandtracyandgeoffandcharlaandderrickandneosouldiers--who showed up and did the dang thang, along with denver, who won; nyc louder arts; detroit; and miami teams-- and all of my new myspace friends).

the biggest news of the day, which is a week old now (outdated by blog standards) is that i've finally found the right passage to FREEDOM FROM THE CORPORATE STRUCTURE! WooooHoooo! i thought the entire week of my new found freedom would be spent at a slower pace... you know... go back to sleep after i get the kids off to school, wake up when i feel like it, blog, write some more, do some freelance work and... NEVER HAPPENED! apparently, when you's free from "corporate," you's become a slave to a zillion other things. word. and not that i didn't LOVE my old job at that nameless, faceless corporate machine... okay, well i didn't love the job (so liberating to say that now) but i DEFINITELY loved the people. and i am certainly grateful for the many, many the moments that my mind still sucks and dissolves like lemon heads. (i will especially miss the gourmet coffee from the machine, the clunk and churn of the AC and the stench of cigarette smoke, perrenials and fertilizer.) NOT! but seriously, when asked what i am doing now, i lovingly answered that i landed in a job where i can say "mercury's in retrograde" without a heckle in return. kisses in the wind to my old coworkers and friends! until we meet again... at jazzercise... ;-)

i am currently in training for my new job as a teaching artist-in-residence for the theater action project (the other TAP in my life). it really is an amazing group of artists, all committed to creating a better learning experience for kids through art. but how could we not be amazing? we are under the fearless leadership of karen lashelle who hides her cape well. MAD LOVE TO TAP!!! but just when we thought we'd escaped THE MAN... that's a-whole-nother blog...

the other time in my days has already filled up with freelance graphic design work. yes, yes... i am FINALLY open for business. check out my new website for (of course) Groovenbuttafly Design. (www.groovenbuttafly.com) it's amazing because AS SOON AS i made space in my life for them, the jobs came. i am grateful. truly grateful. Allahu Akbar!

simultaneously, among other things, director extraordinaire laurie carlos is back in town to work on flo's "half breed: a southern fried tail (check one)" performance. (full details to come, y'all.) i am shadowing the lovingly fierce omi olomo oshun and performing a few small parts. flo is brilliant, which i already knew, and just to be back in the same universe with sharon (my other beloved mentor) and krissy and jacqueline (my sisters fro the other TAP in my life... the austin project) fills me up. LOTS of work but so much love. so much love.

PS--BIG LOVE to zell who's show i missed because my overheating car made travel this weekend impossible. but i KNOW there is always more to come from him so until the next one...

on the home front, we finally MOVED into a house where my mother, children and i can finally spread out, fart and scratch in our own spaces enough that we won't offend each other. the woman who used to live here is an artist and she painted each room a different color. it really is a lovely space that my mother and i are cultivating beautifully into our new home.

so creatively, i've been spending most of my time designing, less writing, though i did make my submission deadline for the month. (TORCH Magazine y'all! www.torchpoetry.org) the deadline is August 31st. SUBSCRIBE and SUBMIT!!! i am hoping to come up with some kind of schedule that actually gives me time to get it all in. if any of you have suggestions/advice/wisdom/sayings from your grandmama you'd like to offer, holla. i need it all.

so, i think that's about all i can manage for now. i have to get up early and take my car to the shop, finally get my last name changed on my driver's license and work on one of the 2 design assignments i have currently going. SEE! but at least now i am doing what i'm doing out of SERIOUS love. the beautiful thing is... it all actually pays!

glowing...
shia

2006-07-24T15:14:00.000-07:00

maybe now? if not... when?
may the worriers become warriors

maybe when there are no more trees for shade or hammock
maybe when our skin has finally broiled into cancer under midday sun
maybe when north and south poles vaporize or are bottled and sold for consumption
maybe when more booms go bust and haves become have-nots
(maybe when we realize the haves were have-nots all along)
maybe when all of the deer/dears have been killed and sliced
for supper and wall-mountings
maybe when gas prices put all of the dealerships of the cool gas guzzlers out of business
maybe when hunger becomes something we feel in the belly of our very beings
maybe when mothers again have villages
maybe when “father” presupposes fathering
maybe when more men flourish than flounder
maybe when women matter beyond those moments between life and death
maybe when we regard children as evidences of God
maybe when our arms rest from casting stones
maybe when we feel the pain of our brothers’ wounds
maybe when we become “We”
maybe when we stop taking it easy and making it hard
maybe when war stops being the answer…
(interpersonally, locally, nationally, globally, spiritually, religiously...)

maybe then
we will actually use our lives
and do something

--------------------------------------------------------

that was inspired by a friend who sent me information (thanks monica!) about the nobelity project and film showing this weekend. if you live in austin, check it out. i am going to the 1:00pm show on july 30th. (you can buy tickets online. previous showings, I am told, sold out quickly.

Finally, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!! (my father, Naim Shabazz, turns 60 today!) the man who first taught me purpose and love, whether he knows it or not. i love you...

always love,
shia

“The sea is actually made up of drops of water. What you do, where you are, is of significance.” --Desmond Tutu

2006-07-17T12:31:00.000-07:00

i have not my hair!
For Nicole, who DIDN’T have a choice

my mother now vacillates between cutting her locks and continuing to let them grow. my children just stare and smile. my hair is an unintentional hit.

Blogger, for some reason, isn't letting me upload to the body of this post so you'll have to click the profile picture to see the new me, sans my usual fro.

-----------------------------------------------

the saturday before last, Nicole called me. a few sentences into the conversation, i realized she was sobbing. she explained that she had been on a new, more powerful chemo medication; one they’d hoped would kill the disease in her kidney this time. her new kidney is failing and the chances of getting (yet) another one are bleak for the very near future. so right now, as i understand it, chemo is the only option.

i immediately regretted not returning a message i hadn’t even realized she’d left the night before.

she has handled A LOT over the years of dealing with her condition but THIS, she espouses, is more than she can take. the shedding of her full, natural head of hair had fiercely progressed to falling fist-fulls until her sides were nearly bald. the last few years of growing out her hair while on the lower dosages seemed for naught.

what do you do for someone when there is nothing you can really do for them?

the only thing i could think to offer, in support, was that i would shave my own head; (at the very least) hoping that she wouldn’t feel like she was alone in this universe, though her world of chemo and kidney disease might imply otherwise.

i told myself that since she didn’t have a choice, neither did i. it was that simple. and with the universe’s infinite wisdom and divine timing, i sent her India.Arie’s latest cut, “i am not my hair” with the promise that i’d drive to Houston soon so that we could discover our newly shorn heads/newly freed selves together. It all seemed so simple in the first moments of encouragement and planning. but mercury and money and… i never made it to Houston.

so, since I couldn’t make it there, i am here… dedicating this time and this space to Nicole who, in the process of fighting this disease, happened upon this new journey of self-discovery. And to the journey that I, myself, discovered in the mix of feelings that happened as a result. my hair, like many, if not most, if not all Black women, has been significant in the conveyance and interpretation of who I am at different stages in my life. What comes through most prominently for me in all of this is that this haircut, for me, is a luxury. it still happened in the realm of a healthy body and the privilege that comes with it.

i keep trying not to parade the point of my buzz to passers-by because the frustratingly beautiful part of it all is that the cut is actually gorgeous. (thank you “gifted queen,” for the pre-cut prayer, and the amazing transformation of my coif.) with a nod and a “thank you,” i try to blindly accept the compliments because it feels cheapening to tell of Nicole’s call and my response with every “why’d you do it?” But for those who are STILL in mourning, longing for the mane they remember me wrestling into bun after bun, or the mass of coils that swelled into soft cotton at every sign of sweat and heat, i assure you… it’s just hair. it will grow back. maybe into a flowering long enough to save and donate as material for wigging. maybe for me to enjoy and appreciate in the push and pull of stylings. who knows? and if it doesn’t... well, i realize now that I am not, and never was, my hair; that i am now, and always have been, my hair.

when i walked into work today, there were plenty of double takes but most people said nothing. so the struggle with my vanity continues as does my commitment to equally understanding the discomfort and joy i feel every time i get a glimpse my reflection. Nicole had no choice so, in my mind, neither did i. it wasn’t brave. it’s just what friends do, right? It doesn’t change who i am. or maybe, in fact, it does.

always love,
shia

2006-07-11T09:18:00.000-07:00

mercury... i submit!!!

mercury has gone retro(grade) again, y’all, so i will be brief. that coupled with the full moon last night made for loads of dysfunctional behavior. so be merciful and gentle with yourselves; be loving and brief with others. if you take no other advice, my friends, take that. you’ll thank me later.

i wish my kids had had the knowledge of mercury’s retro and all of the shit that happens with energy and the universe that influences discourse. then in those pivotal moments, they could have offered, “mommy and daddy, please don’t fight. mercury’s in retrograde!”

i am grateful for times like Ramadan and retrograde to remind me to acknowledge that there is something greater than me in the universe. (not that waking up isn’t enough.)

for those not in touch with the possibilities/limitations of this time, click the link below. it’s a good thorough laypersons approach to understanding the effects of the merc in retro.

always love,
shia

http://medicinegarden.com/astrology/merc_retro_070406.html

2006-07-05T17:49:00.000-07:00

I’m baaack… re-entry is a mutha-fu—
shut yo’ mouth!

Yesterday, after flight delay (due to “mechanical issues”) and further flight delay (and all of the prayer that comes with it), i finally landed two and a half hours later than scheduled from my 10 day sojourn. re-entry, from bliss to banality, is a mutha. and, on top of that, not having regular access to email… oy vay! t’was like a glimpse of hell, i tell ya. but i'm sure hell is hotter than the mid-to-upper 70’s of oakland and san fran, which is a far cooler cry from the same perspiration-inspiring temps in austin.

[seriously, though…] the week was nothing short of wonderful. i flew into oakland on monday morning (6/26) and spent most of the day with sweetiebubu, who is still beautiful and amazing. his new work schedule intruded on most of our intentions but we managed to create bliss with every available moment... in conversation, in transit, in every gesture. we caught up with my daddy (who i resemble more now than ever... scary) and stepmother monday night. i hadn't realized how long it had been since i'd seen them; her, still quietly stirring steaming pots; him, still talking politics, breaking only for periodic prepaid legal conference calls and breaking sports news on espn.

tuesday i went by barnes and noble in jack london square to pick up a copy of walter mosley's book, life out of context. (GET IT!) it's a really quick read but IMPERATIVE for those of us perpetually in search of "deeper" meaning. while at jack london, i perused world plus market for a few things for bubu's meeting later that night, then spent the rest of the day preparing VONA.

daddy picked me up early wednesday morning for our commute into the san francisco. on our way to the bay bridge, we picked up a commuter, which is a neat (but kinda scary) system to take advantage of the car pool lane and help save on the bridge’s perpetually rising toll. so, at a designated location, commuters wait for perfect strangers to pull up. they get in (with a “good morning” or less, according to commuter etiquette) and are taken to a central drop-off point across the bay bridge in the city. what a trusting interchange in a non-trusting world. while the experience was really fascinating, our participation made me 10 minutes late. so i was late and disoriented when i arrived to VONA's orientation which was reminiscent of my first cave canem welcome circle. there i finally met VONA director, diem jones (a towering gentle man) and elmaz abinader (whose smiling, disarming eyes feel like home). the room was warm and aglow with anticipation. writers of all disciplines and desires.

our first day of the three-day master's suite series was spent with the coolest man of mystery, walter mosley. he primarily read from a manuscript of his forthcoming book on how to commit yourself to completing that first manuscript draft. the talk inspired writing activities lead by elmaz who invited me into spaces of brilliance i didn't realize i was capable of occupying. after two long and lovingly yet purposefully intense days of work and writing, our effort culminated in a friday night performance that, for me, was completely transformative. like i really had to SHOW UP! all of the groups, ours and those held in the genres from monday, were SERIOUS! i mean, some serious work was created and i felt blessed just to witness it all. it was the kind of experience that happens the way it does as a result of the love and synergy of everyone involved in the process... with ours in particular, from the voices of the "suitemates" to the direction of the final performance (a collaboration mostly between our fearless leader, elmaz, and my group 1 sister, erika, who was [willingly] drafted into the role). it was, by all accounts... amazing. not only my brief but invaluable moments of presence with VONA staff (elizabeth and mai) and faculty (suheir hammad, ruth foreman and willie perdomo), but i found moments of crazy love to my VONA (week 1) master’s suite brethren & sistren…

deneaanderikaandadamandglodeananddeirdreandteri
andvalerieandmelanieanddaisyandsuzanneandzakee
andjinkyandmiriamandleslieannandkamariaandalison!!!!

okay, so in all of this recap i failed to mention that on wednesday after the first VONA workshop, my father invited me to speak to the young adults who routinely/apprehensively drag themselves to the infamous hunter’s point district of san fran for job/life skills work. wednesday’s group of 12 ranged in age from 12 to 17. i am told they choose to come to this space but i can only imagine (by their collectively unenthusiastic slump) that it was more to foray and flirt with adulthood in a protected space than it was for the job skills and life work offered by my dad and the Renaissance administration. in case they hadn’t been told lately—or ever—my talk with them was essentially about the gift of choice. that there were still so many possibilities for them and their lives. that… i know it seems bleak on the dodge and shuffle from base to base, and often like there aren’t many other choices. but that they are brilliant and that their brilliance is one thing no one can ever take it away from them. (you know that one real thing you KNOW is beautiful about yourself. at least you knew it before some hater-spirit in the form of an underloved / underappreciated parent / teacher / sibling / quasi-friend / racist / coach / struggling-child-of-God made you believe otherwise? THAT thing.) i tried to inspire them to get back in touch with that thing. by the end of the class, they seemed, at the very least, engaged... at most, inspired. my prayer is to get back to them sometime soon. i saw so much of myself in that room; walking the line between here and gone forever, wondering whether anyone was listening. i hope they know, i hear their whispers… loud and clear.

on friday immediately following the VONA performance, daddy, the oldest of my 2 younger brothers (malik), his son/my completely adorable nephew khairi and i made the excruciating drive to san diego. there, my “other mother” (malik’s mom/daddy’s 2nd wife… did you get all that?) jameelah hosted a going-away party for our youngest brother, saleem, on saturday, in her gorgeous home. saleem and his wife, beth--who was simultaneously visiting her sister in Arizona--are moving to china on the 27th. (time to find the grant money for travel, y’all!) we got to talk to her via video-chat on my brother’s super snazzy MacBook. (just when i thought i was hip to all of the cool technology…) my younger sister, baheejah, is fully grown and gorgeous and managed to commandeer the kitchen which, under her leadership, produced a full spread fit for our departing vegetarian prince and his carnivorous family. this pseudo-reunion gave me a chance to reconnect with family like “niecey,” who i hadn’t seen since somewhere around the summer of my 8th or 9th year when she would tirelessly braid my hair into intricate plaits and/or foiled and bead-tipped cornrows; and friends like robbie who lived next door who i SWEAR i remember most toddling to and fro shoeless with little more than sagging training pants on... until now. (he’s 26 and fully-clothed, i’m happy to report.) i also met other people of their lives like this lovely young sister named sherehe. (thank you, saleem.) her spirit reminds me so much of mine. her artistic experiences nearly mirrored mine. i am so grateful. so grateful.

the party went late into the night on saturday. sunday, while malik took khairi to disneyland, daddy and i surprised my maternal grandparents, nana and grandpa. daddy laughed that neither their address nor phone number had changed in 40 years, since he dated my mother; which, in my mind means that getting lost in this world is never an option. i think i should sew their contact info to the tags of all of my clothes, just in case i get lost again.

it was a bit surreal to get this much, this beautiful a loving experience on the heels of VONA and bubu. daddy and i picked up grandma mary (his mother) and joined my grandparents, my mother’s brother/my uncle kenny and his wife/my aunt tonya for dinner at grandpa’s favorite spot, red lobster. (have you have the seafood feast lately! it’s INSANE!) bellies and hearts full, daddy and i retired to aunt pat’s in prep of our long trek back to the bay.

at some god-forsaken hour, we managed ourselves into the cab of my brother’s pickup and made it back to the bay by noon. bubu and i did our last bits of running around for his son who was also leaving in the morning for the summer trip out east. we all siphoned what we could from our last moments and …

here i am. back in austin, longing for bliss and poems and bubu.

WHEW! that was a lot. i am feeling much better today than yesterday. the depression has subsided a bit more. blood is circulating again. i had lunch with salihah and naim, which was great though they acted nonchalant my return. (i’ll catch up in stories and kisses tonight, i’m sure.)

so i am working toward my october 1st deadline of completing my first draft of my second collection, thanks for elmaz and my VONA group 1. i will likely not make it to the american black film festival later this month unless a philanthropist happens into my life in the next week or so… right… so i am also i am trying to devise my other plan of attack for these screenplays. any suggestions?

Ok, I’m sick of typing. I am grateful that you hung in with me this long, dear reader. Now that this is outta my system, maybe I can get back to shorter more timely blogs. (haven’t I said that before?)

Always love,
Shia SHABAZZ (fa-evah-evah)

2006-06-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

before i get pulled back into my day...

this is me tiptoeing into this entry. trying not to wake my daughter, disturb my mother or make my son aware of the fact that i am actually taking a moment to myself. got no time for fancy coloring and fonts (save the title) or cool linkage so bear with me. i'm just happy to be here.

Allahu-Akbar... God is SO good! so many amazing things going on in my life and in the world, how am i supposed to keep up? i mean, not like i won the lottery (which i don't play anyway) or got nominated for an academy award (at least not yet) or anything. but i feel very present and i am enjoying the highs and lows of living and it is just a blessing. i can't believe it's only been a month--feels like a year--since we were last here. let's see, an update... where do i start?

*inhale* (here we go...)

my time with austin project officially ended (wiping tears from my cheeks)... i wrote 14 poems in the month of april for gibbous moon's "poem-a-day" challenge (a triumph considering that's more than i've written in the last year, give or take)... went to an AMAZING spa party (thank you krissy, camille, wura, analise et al for the serious love and care)... my son scored several touchdowns before their last loss (who cares... they all got the same trophy anyway)... my daughter did her first cheerleading dance in a halftime show (too cute!)... i did a reading at bookwoman... submitted 6 (yes, count 'em 6) screenplays to screenwriting contests... saw anna devere smith at zach scott (inspired!)... mourned one contest rejection so far... submitted a grant proposal... lost 4 pounds... cut my hair down and let it grow back to a twistable fro... accepted a position as co-producer on a film (more on that later)... had a live reading for that screenplay... designed my own fabulous website... gained 4 pounds... saw the roots (slow-heat-exausted-yawn...) and anthony hamilton (yay!) in concert... saw the movie water (a MUST see!)... and saw the oldest of my two younger brothers who was in Houston on business... and not necessarily in that order.

*exhale*

phew! funny thing is, as you can see i have had a million and one blog ideas, just never the time to write them all down. i also started a myspace account (groovenbuttafly, of course) which i have even less time to maintain. but everyone else was doing it and... i can be such a follower sometimes. call it the second-child syndrome.

i'm headed to cali shortly for a bit of bliss with sweetiebubu. i'm actually going to attend the vona voices master suite workshop at the university of san francisco, called The Writer-of-Color and Political Responsibility, with walter mosley and elmaz abinader. how great is that? after that, my prayer is that in july, i'll take the kids to san antonio for a weekend so they'll have something to write about that first week of school. (not that camp and the unforgiving-100-degree heat aren't subject enough.) i also hope to make it to the american black film festival (www.abff.com) in miami. but we'll see. summer is so short. so many things to do, so little time and moolah.

uh-oh...

time to bid you adieu. it is saturday and the fact that i have managed any time on the computer is worthy of documenting. my son scoots nearer and nearer, half-playing with a headless bionicle, halfway vying for my attention. my daughter is slowly stretching out of sleep, out from a fetal position on top of my good pillow like a long, lethargic kitten; the braids she begged for spread in all directions above her head like subway train tracks from a main station. i am typing as quickly as my pecking fingers will allow. like getting a last kiss in before your parents come home.

so my beautilicious friends, i want to say i am "back," but i guess we'll see won't we? thank you tasha for the word "parallax." that's my next blog. stay tuned y'all...

GRATEFUL for this moment...

besos y abrazos... (fa evah, evah...)
shia SHABAZZ

2006-05-03T08:54:00.000-07:00

so much work... so little time...
scroll down for IMPORTANT info regarding sharon bridgeforth's forthcoming retreat and reading. a MUST ATTEND!!!

i PROMISE i'm gonna post more of my babblings soon. til then, here is the poem i promised a couple of friends i'd post. i wrote it aas a part of my "poem-a-day in april" obligation to the gibbous moon collective. once it is revised, it is certain to go into the "conversations" series. enjoy!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the talk
do you think you’ll have another baby?
if so, does that mean you’re gonna have sex again?

my daughter inquires
smirk simmering at the corners of her mouth
because she knows it has something to do
with sex, which she knows
between herself and her brother
i’ve had at least two times in my life

and she knows because she’s been here before
here, to some version of this question
and, i am certain, here, to some version of this life
that i must negotiate truth and her being nine

i think she likes to watch me squirm
through the foreignism of birds and bees
language i never learned from “the talk”
i never had, like other girls had
to endear /endure with parents

she pushes me through the challenge to redefine
my understanding of what sex is
as learned from knuckle-headed boys or
prepubescent girls who were passing on what some
father/brother/cousin/mother’s boyfriend/aunt/neighbor/family acquaintance
had already stolen

it is the fire of knowing she craves
the center piece of this puzzle she’s worked on
since she became aware of victoria’s secret commercials
remarriage and the boy at table five in the cafeteria

i don’t think i’ll have anymore babies, i finally tell her
kissing her forehead with a knowing look
you and your brother are quite enough.

she skips away, satisfied that i’ve answered her question
i am relieved that she’s gone and not asking
if that means I will not be having more sex

©2006 by shia shabazz
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

i NEED to let y'all know of some important work going on near you.

the "rev. dr. sister-madre-friend-mentor" sharon bridgforth is doing her work. my participation in the finding voice (life work) has been a CRITICAL part to strengthening the bones of my writing. check it out...

CONTACT: SHARON BRIDGFORTH
sharon.bridgforth@gmail.com www.sharonbridgforth.com
THERE'S STILL ROOM/SIGN UP NOW!!!

FINDING VOICE/IN THE BONES
MAY 12 -14, 2006 IN AUSTIN, TX
an intensive/week-end retreat for intermediate & advanced level wy'mnwriters of all genres facilitated by Dr. Joni Jones/Omi Osun Olomo and Sharon Bridgforth. to apply or for more info go to: http://www.wymnwriting.blogspot.com ~~~~~~~~~~

Transformations: Then & Now
A Spoken Word Concert/Acapella
Featuring Sharon Bridgforth
From cancer to Yemoja from "sonate blue" to "love conjure/blues" from the root wy'mn theatre company to the bull-jean stories from butch to more butch to TwoSpirited Bridgforth will share her Journey/her Work/her Roads traveled/with readings from performance pieces published works and new things.
Thursday May 11, 2006, 7PM
at Ventana del Soul1834 East Oltorf Austin, Texas
COST: sliding scale $7-$15

2006-04-20T12:40:00.000-07:00

THREE MUST ATTEND EVENTS!
Please read this entire blog for all info. (This blog is a HATE-FREE space. Needless to say, so are these events. Hope to see you there.)

ALLGO presents
“Ramble-Ations” : A One D’Lo Show

WHEN:
Friday, April 22, 2006
7:30 p.m.

WHERE:
Tillery Street Theater
701 Tillery Street, Austin, Texas 78702

Opening: Florinda Bryant

D’Lo has created characters based on different personalities from her life and from her imaginary world. These personality-flawed characters come to the stage to share stories with the world of what really matters to them; stories filled with contradictions of existing in America where one’s traditions and culture are constantly challenged; stories reflecting the intricate details of being of color or from immigrant communities; stories showing the battle against ignorance even in friendships and relationships; and finally, stories of love that reflect my belief that you can’t call yourself a revolutionary if you have a problem being nice.

AND

Floodlines
by Jaclyn Pryor
SOLD OUT (but it's worth knowing about because Jaclyn's a genius!)
For info:
http://www.refractionarts.org/pryor.shtml
Also, fyi, check out www.austinist.com if you are interested in reading an interview with Jaclyn about the show.

AND

MANGOS FOR ANA

WHY:
a community gathering to show our love for Ana Sisnett and to raise necessary funds as she undergoes treatment for ovarian cancer

WHEN:
Saturday, April 22, 2006
8 p.m. - 1:00 a.m.

WHAT:
see your friends
witness the poetic offerings of Daniel Alexander Jones, Carole Metellus, Jen Margulies, Pamela Overynder, Deborah Paredez, and k.t. shorb
food and drink
dancing with D.J. Lenne Degeddingsize.

WHERE:
Tillery Street Theater
701 Tillery Street, Austin, Texas 78702
http://www.allgo.org/map.htm for directions
(Note that 7th Street flies over Tillery.)

DONATIONS: We are asking for a donation of $25.00 per person,or pay what you can. No one will be turned away.Donations will also be accepted, payable to
Ana Sisnett
c/o Austin Free-Net
PMB 226
PO Box 201
3Austin, TX 78768-2013

Donations are not tax-deductible. Donations to an organization can not and will not be redirected to Ana.

TO VOLUNTEER, or for more information, please contact
Virginia Raymond at virginiaraymond@austin.rr.com
748-0940

2006-04-04T07:44:00.000-07:00

let's TAKE THE LEAD y'all!

the following email was forwarded to me this morning. i ABSOLUTELY pray that someday soon, i find myself in a position to be asking support for my first widely released film. (cuz we all know how these first-weekend-ratings-things work, right?)

so, in support of this sista who is obviously doing the dang thing--and, admittedly, in an effort to create good karma--i am going to venture to my favorite theater this weekend and actually pay full price (not matinee) to see this film (which i try to make a practice of for all Black films). one small way to exercise your politics/make a statement, right? anyway, here's the email i received. (i was also impressed that the sista sent it herself rather than having her people's people's people represent her.) go, diane, go!!!

"Ok- so I've never sent a BIG GROUP email before, but here goes: For the first time, I have a major movie opening nationwide on the 7th of April, and I'd welcome your support in going to see my film. The movie, called TAKE THE LEAD, stars Antonio Banderas and Alfre Woodard. I wrote it, and Liz Freidlander, directed. You can see the trailer at http://www.taketheleadmovie.com . Please come and support us. You all know how important opening weekend can be.

Thank you,
Dianne Houston"

2006-04-03T09:30:00.000-07:00

mark your calendars & spread the word!!!

dearest beautiful friends/family, who have wondered what i've been rehearsing for every night these last 2 weeks, every sunday these last 6 weeks or so... here's the payoff. the work we have done individually, and as a collective with the guidance of omi osun olomo (dr. joni jones), sharon bridgforth, and laurie carlos, is nothing short of amazing. I would be humbled and honored if you would make time to attend one of the performances.

the austin project

jam sessions in jazz aesthetic 2006

April 8th, 2006

2:00 pm

Winship Drama Building 2.180

April 9th, 2006

2:00 pm

The Off Center / 2211-A Hidalgo Street

featuring: florinda bryant, d'lo, dulani, bianca flores, kristen gerhard, erika gonzalez, virginia grise, alyssa harad, amanda johnston, ana lara, krissy mahan, rosalee martin, lisa moore, courtney morrisjaclyn pryor, shia shabazz

producer: joni l. jones/omi osun olomo
anchor artist: sharon bridgforth
guest artists: laurie carlos & daniel alexander jones
refreshments will be served

any ut garage parking will be validated upon request

recommended $2 donation to defray expenses

For more information please contact the Center for African & African American Studies at
512-471-1784 caaas@uts.cc.utexas.edu http://www.utexas.edu/cola/depts/caaas

This event is sponsored by the Center for African & African American Studies with support from: Department of English and Center for Women's and Gender Studies

2006-04-03T08:43:00.000-07:00

is this a test?

so the week before performance, i am assured that all of this is a test. the return of the raccoon between the upper and lower floors of my townhouse apartment; the unavoidable family drama; and need i even mention daylight savings time, which, by the way, is kicking my ass!

today’s vocab word:

Entry Word: late

Function: adjective

Text 1: not arriving, occurring, or settled at the due, usual, or proper time

Synonyms: behind, behindhand, belated, delinquent, latish, overdue, tardy Related Words delayed, detained, postponed; dilatory, laggard, slow, sluggish

Example Sentence:
I ran as fast as I could, but was still late for class.

Also as in: Not only was I running late this morning but losing one hour of sleep because of Daylight Savings Time has turned me into a coffee gorging, sluggish laggard at work. (notice that I used 2 of the related words in one sentence. I give myself a bonus point for that.)

(A quick note: I have to give props to the brilliant cc poet, a. van jordan whose series of poems in this word/definition/example style is the impetus for the blog openings of late... hey! there's another use of the word!)

the alarm clocks this morning might as well have been lullabies. my kids were late to school. and this week, we are hard in rehearsals again so we are to treat ourselves impeccably. so, in that case, i will make no space for drama in my life this week and i am on a “be-good-to-shia” mission. as our fearless leader, producer/tap founder dr. joni jones (omi osun olomo) advises, i will tend to myself impeccably and:

--drink lots of water

--take naps

--talk often to one another

--eat chocolate/sorbet/carmel corn or anything that makes you feel good

--applaud [my] courage

--and dance [my] joy!!!

(thank you omi)

here’s to hard work and reward. here’s to TAP women and our allies. here’s to creating art for revolution and change!

fah-evah...

shia SHABAZZ

2006-03-30T08:42:00.000-08:00

word of the day: cathexis

(taken from http://www.m-w.com/)
cathexis • \kuh-THEK-sis\ noun : investment of mental or emotional energy in a person, object, or idea

Example sentence:The cathexis of a mother for her daughter can be the source of a girl's confidence and stability later in life.

Another example: (interpretations in my head)
depending on a mother’s emotional state, the cathexis, or better yet the lack of it, might be what transforms vibrant, loquacious girls into querulous, self-doubting daughters who lie on floors, vacantly stare at ceilings in rooms with padded walls.

Still another:
my cathexis for my artistic process is a mutha. I mean… I can’t perform in a play, pen a poem, choreograph a routine without the life I tried to leave in the other room, interjecting some unresolved this or that; creeping in, eyeballing my work and calling me a fraud.

life is a beautiful bitch...then you fly.

2006-03-28T10:26:00.000-08:00

question: “have you ever fallen in love?” my answer, “all the time.”

Last night began our first night of rehearsals for the forthcoming performances for the Austin Project. (April 8th & 9th so mark your calendars!) anyway, this night focused on love. real loving. Led by the brilliant Laurie Carlos, (in short) we each had an opportunity to sit in the center of the circle of beautiful spirits and accept offerings love and appreciation for just being who we are. And it’s amazing to find out how many positive thoughts other people actually have about you. to find out that you matter. And then, to watch each woman be so generous with compliments and offerings of adoration for other women. That happens too few and too far between in our culture. I fell in love over and over and over again last night. I am so grateful. Allahu Akbar.

I fell in love with my children again this weekend as well. On Saturday, they both had their first flag football games. Salihah cheered. Naim played. They were both completely excited about their new athletic pursuits. (Salihah is definitely her momma’s child.) But Naim… my more reserved child, usually preferring to stand behind me with his head tucked under my shirt than take the lead on this or that, is an amazing athlete! I mean, I knew he was fast but of the 4 touchdowns the team made, Naim ran 3 of them! And not only ran them but dodged and spun, faked out the defense. I went WILD on the sidelines! Aside from his coach/dad and I, he (Naim) was so proud… so proud. Even better, his sister was proud of him and they shared a bit of joy between them. (Gotta recognize the bonding moments cuz the rivalry can be overshadowing.) now, if I could only get them to clean their rooms without threats or some act of God…

Finally, I guess I’ll post that I recently joined the editorial staff as Sr. Editor for the Motion Picture section of ATX Magazine. It’s very new but I think (we) have a great visionary in Megan Bettis. I am EXTREMELY grateful for the opportunity. I will officially begin work after the Austin Project performances. I am looking forward to what promises to be a wonderful ride!

2006-03-28T00:36:00.000-08:00

i’m a 47. what are you?

no not on a scale of 1 to 10. i got the following in the mail. i decided to post it here because i thought it was a fun interactive thing to post. feel free to paste it into an email and continue circulating it, which is how i received it initially. i am keeping the instructions with it as well, so (hopefully) nothing gets lost in translation. have fun!

fuh-evah…
shia

Dr Phil's Test:
Below is Dr Phil's test. (Dr. Phil scored 55; he did this test on Oprah - she got a 38.) Some folks pay a lot of money to find this stuff out!Read on, this is very interesting!Don't be overly sensitive! The following is pretty accurate and it only takes 2 minutes. Take this test for yourself and send it to your friends.The person who sent it placed their score in the e-mail subject box. Please do the same before forwarding to your friends (send it back to the person who sent it to you.) Don't peek, but begin the test as you scroll down and answer.Answers are for who you are now...... not who you were in the past. Have pen or pencil and paper ready. This is a real test given by the Human Relations Dept. at many of the major corporations today. It helps them get better insight concerning their employees and prospective employees. It's only 10 simple questions, so...grab a pencil and paper, keeping track of your letter answers to each question.Make sure to change the subject of the e-mail to read YOUR total. When you are finished, forward this to friends/family, and also send it to the person who sent this to you. Make sure to put YOUR score in the subject box.

Ready?

Begin...

1. When do you feel your best?
a) in the morning
b) during the afternoon &and early evening
c) late at night

2. You usually walk...
a) fairly fast, with long steps
b) fairly fast, with little steps
c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
d) less fast, head down
e) very slowly

3. When talking to people you..
a) stand with your arms folded
b) have your hands clasped
c) have one or both your hands on your hips
d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair

4. When relaxing, you sit with..
a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
b) your legs crossed
c) your legs stretched out or straight
d) one leg curled under you

5. When something really amuses you, you react with...
a) big appreciated laugh
b) a laugh, but not a loud one
c) a quiet chuckle
d) a sheepish smile

6. When you go to a party or social gathering you...
a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed

7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted......
a) welcome the break
b) feel extremely irritated
c) vary between these two extremes

8. Which of the following colors do you like most?
a) Red or orange
b) black
c) yellow or light blue
d) green
e) dark blue or purple
f) white
g) brown or gray

9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep you are..
a) stretched out on your back
b) stretched out face down on your stomach
c) on your side, slightly curled
d) with your head on one arm
e) with your head under the covers

10. You often dream that you are...
a) falling
b) fighting or struggling
c) searching for something or somebody
d) flying or floating
e) you usually have dreamless sleep
f) your dreams are always pleasant

POINTS:
1. (a) 2 (b) 4 (c) 6
2. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 7 (d) 2 (e) 1
3. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 5 (d) 7 (e) 6
4. (a) 4 (b) 6 (c) 2 (d) 1
5. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 2
6. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 2
7. (a) 6 (b) 2 (c) 4
8. (a) 6 (b) 7 (c) 5 (d) 4 (e) 3 (f) 2 (g) 1
9. (a) 7 (b) 6 (c) 4 (d) 2 (e) 1
10. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 6 (f) 1

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with care." You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile, rather impulsive personality; a natural leader, who's quick to make decisions, though not always the right ones. They see you as bold and adventuresome, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the excitement you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out. (I LIKE MY SCORE!!!)

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful & practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return. Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust In your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you aspainstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive, someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make the decisions & who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or anything! They see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some people think you're boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

2006-03-21T09:02:00.000-08:00

i lived to blog about it!!!

well, i'm still breathing and that's a good sign. sweetie bubu is out of the country and this greater distance makes the regular distance seem like cake. seven days and counting...

staying bizzy helps. actually, i've been more like crazy bizzy. the last few weeks have been wonderfully and amazingly hectic. AWP was off the hizzle (off da heezy? the shizzle? am i showing my age?). so many beautiful cave canem folks in town. i also got to meet ccers whose paths i had not crossed before, natasha t., honoree and toni l., whose rasp i just fell in love with. but you don't realize how deeply you miss people until you see them again. i couldn’t believe i actually had my tara-tara in my city. and i got to spend time with the ever-so-lovely-and-loving remica. me and raina gabbed all night saturday (in fact i don’t even remember falling asleep), reminding me of cc all over again. (still trying to get her to move here.) great to see tyhimba (lovin’ leadbelly) even though he called forth the hat and didn’t bear witness to the magic of it (lol). my fingers got to reminisce in what hair feels like with jarita around (my beautiful former hair twin) and i got to see my trini sista lauryn (yay!) and amaud big-poppa-johnson, and tim seibels who was my intro to cc in the first place; and terrance and doug and demetris and jacqueline and stephanie and my gibbous moon sisters (natasha m. [as anime] and manda-manda [the warrior priestess]), and camille and ruth ellen--who looked fabulously happy. and toi and cornelius! got to hang a bit with friend of cc walter m. and lawd, lawd, lawd hammercy... hung out strong with patricia who spits the most brilliant poems on the spot to beat boxing brothers hanging inside windows amid the sweat and heat of 2am partying and patron. poets at club 115! THAT made the entire conference worth it! (so was sam's barbeque with ron and ronnie... bam!!!) thankyouthankyouthankyou ALL for the inspired memories, again, and again and again. is there ever a time that cave canem experience isn’t amazing?

fortunately where awp ended on saturday at the convention center was where i picked up my volunteer staff badge for sxsw which started off amazingly, having met kick ass penman of blockbusters like hook (remember that?), muppets treasure island, lara croft’s tomb raider and sahara, screenwriter jim hart. his wife and i became fast friends on an escalator ride to the panel he was doing where she got me into the already packed proceedings. (how could you not love the guy who wrote muppets treasure island?) anyway, being so loved by his wife, she promised to call—never did, though i imagine sxsw swept them into the funnel cloud that is the festival. but i did see a great, very smart, utterly cute film (funky boots) and worked my butt off as a volunteer. i also realized that i didn’t remember as much of final cut pro as i thought i had and nearly committed myself to the room with padded walls after my bout with the program in the dv editing suite. but i am breathing now and the memories and hindsight, are pretty amazing so i have no complaints.

my son’s birthday also passed since we last spoke. he is now seven. my poor second child whose birthday happens just before spring break every year. we had an in-class party but we have yet to follow up with the “all-the-kids-you-can-take romp and sleepover at my house or with his dad. so many of his friends out of town on the break and this new divorce situation makes the slices of chaos just that much more thick. i pray it isn’t the thing he’ll be laying on some therapist’s couch years from now, feeling neglected about. but if not this, then i guess we could chose from the list of other things we mothers (and fathers) do to make our children seek therapy. look at all of the stuff i blame on my parents. (lol) just kidding… kinda.

oh, i guess i should report, for those of you waiting to hear,… i didn’t get tribeca. the great thing is that i’m not at all upset about it. if you all recall, i had a live reading of the screenplay just after i submitted it and realized a good fistful of shortcomings. knowing they existed make it easier to digest the rejection. i’m getting better. (no bald patches of scalp this time!) i’m kidding!!! (kinda)

finally, my mother, her friend jada and i hustled into new orleans saturday morning and out by saturday night to retrieve the last of my mother’s things. (don’t tell her she officially lives in austin now. it doesn’t delight her.) but she is relieved and finding peace with her new life here. the trip itself was overwhelming. i video taped as much as i could with the time we had. going to toy with documentary. we’ll see what happens. not that I didn’t understand and empathize before but i now see (first hand) why my mother is so angry. there is so much work to be done. so much work. mad love to the common ground relief project and habitat for humanity and all of the college students committing their time to gutting houses and doing some of that work. they set a good example for the rest of us.

ok, this was meant to be a check in to let y’all know i am still alive and doin’ salsa!!! (monday nights!) anyway, take care til next time!

love thangs and chicken wangs…

fuh-evah-evah…
shia

2006-03-09T08:55:00.000-08:00

We made the BEST BETS in the EVENTS section for AUSTIN360.com!!! Come check it out y'all!

sistas aloud!
cave canem poets featured at benefit reading for the national women's alliance.
TOMORROW NIGHT!!! march 10, 2006 @ 7:00 p.m.
st. edward's university - jones auditorium 3001
s. congress ave. austin, tx 78704
$10 public $5 with student or seu i.d .

austin, tx - the gibbous moon collective in partnership with the seu students of african heritage association (saha) bring you sistas aloud! - a poetry reading featuring cave canem poets to benefit the national women's alliance on march 10, 2006. featured cave canem poets are: jacqueline johnson, raina j. leon, jarita davis, ramica bingham, stephanie pruitt, amanda johnston, shia shabazz, natasha marin, tara betts (hbo def poet), toni asante lightfoot (hbo def poet), and special guest, cave canem faculty member, patricia smith (hbo def poet.)

link to download flier: http://www.geocities.com/gibbousmooncollective/sistas-aloud.pdf

2006-02-28T09:52:00.000-08:00

props, big ups, shout-outs, hollerin’… whatever… it’s all love!

the universe feels like a good place to be these days, i'm happy to report. i feel so completely honored/privileged to be a part of and witness some really amazing communities or artists. there are events coming up that feature them (eh-hem, me include) and in this blog, they take center stage. these are events you cannot miss. i repeat… you cannot miss! i promise, they will be worth more than the moments you give to them. i truly can't give adequate words to the artists involved in them. so, i’ll let you see for yourselves. get a pen and paper, date book, palm pilot, calendar, or make serious mental notes.

here we go…

AWP is coming to austin which brings with it a fierce torrent of poets and writers (toi derricotte/marilyn nelson/walter mosley/patricia smith/terrance hayes/tyhimba jess/afaa michael weaver/honorée fanonne jeffers/camille dunge/tim seibels and on and on and on...). check out the website for all the haps.

because there will be so many cave canem women in town, amanda johnston spearheaded the effort to get us space to do our own thang too. so let’s get the formalities outta the way… press release-ish jargon…

sistas aloud! cave canem poets featured at benefit reading for the national women's alliance.
march 10, 2006
7:00 p.m.
st. edward's university - jones auditorium
3001 s. congress ave. austin, tx 78704
$10 public $5 with student or seu i.d .

austin, tx - the gibbous moon collective in partnership with the seu students of african heritage association (saha) bring you sistas aloud! - a poetry reading featuring cave canem poets to benefit the national women's alliance on march 10, 2006. featured cave canem poets are: jacqueline johnson, raina j. leon, jarita davis, ramica bingham, stephanie pruitt, amanda johnston, shia shabazz, natasha marin, tara betts (hbo def poet), toni asante lightfoot (hbo def poet), and special guest, cave canem faculty member, patricia smith (hbo def poet.)
link to download flier: http://www.geocities.com/gibbousmooncollective/sistas-aloud.pdf

about cave canem: cave canem is committed to the discovery and cultivation of new voices in african american poetry. in 1996 poets and teachers toi derricotte and cornelious eady began a weeklong summer workshop/retreat designed to counter the under-representation and isolation of african american poets in writers' workshops and literary programs. from the beginning, cave canem has offered a safe haven for black poets - whether schooled in mfa programs or poetry slams - to come togehter to work on their craft and engage others in critical debate. more at www.cavecanempoets.org

about nwa : the national women's allaince is a community-driven, national advocacy organization dedicated to ending all forms of discrimination against women and girls of color. more at www.nwaforchange.org

ok, so i’m geeked about this ‘cuz as you may know, last summer (2005), i graduated from cave canem (c-c-x). so every moment hereafter spent in the company of my cc family is time i will devour like choxie. and whether you get in the first time you apply or the tenth, in my mind, cc is a compulsory stop on our journey as black poets. where else could you sit in a workshop on “how to live a successful writing life” with fellow participant walter mosley? or swim in sun and smiles of toi derricotte? dance in the infectious laughter of cornelius eady? wrap your arms around some of the country’s (dare i say world’s) most accomplished and admired poets before meals, after merengue? cc was the space where i first realized how much life work i had to do, what my art really meant to me, and how critical it was to my survival for me to aggressively pursue my path as an artist. (thank you nikky finney and audre lorde for the times i am tongue tied.)

gibbous moon collective was conceived when amanda johnston, natasha marin, and i (all cc fellows) found out we were all living in austin. it’s a hot, beautiful brew, man.

speaking of fire and beauty, the austin project (TAP, not to be confused with the Theater Action Project, a brilliant and very necessary theater arts-in-schools program) is also in full swing again, preparing for our performances on april 8th and 9th (more details as performance time nears). TAP never comes around soon enough, i tell ya. this year there are more women among us. big love to mothers of TAP, sharon bridgforth and Iya Omi Osun Olomo (dr. joni jones), and to all de women folks… collecting air into lungs… amanda/ alissa/ ana/ bianca/ courtney/ d’lo/ dulani/ erica/ flo/ jacqueline/ kristen/ krissy/ lisa/ rosalee/ theresa/ vicki… whew! (googles of kisses to all of the TAP-alicious women not joining us this year.)

almost done... i shared this past weekend with fellow aspiring screenwriters at the dead of winter workshops and retreat, sponsored by the austin screenwriters group (ASG). ASG meets every 1st and 3rd saturday of the month at book people where we read and critique screenplays. For those interested in screenwriting, this is a great way to get started and engage/access people at all levels, in all areas of filmmaking. (congratulations to laura on winning the contest this weekend and a HUGE thank you to bonnie orr and bob carstensen and caesar/ kirk/ jennifer/ laura/ randy/ suzie/ wendy for your critiques, advice, suggestions, camaraderie, inspiration.

finally, i GOTTA send props, big ups, shout outs, love, hollerin’… whatever… to other poets and peeps around town doing the damn thang (all the soldiers carrying the torch for neosoul, ivan miller [congrats to you and d. brown on the new book], xenogia, austin slam team, the kings of poetry, and e'rybody else), finding breath and giving life to words.

in this moment, i acknowledge... I am blessed!

fuh-evah-evah,
shia

2006-02-20T07:48:00.000-08:00

how does the saying go?

my older sister once quoted... "adulthood is merely recovery from your childhood." (?) or something like that. that’s true in the best case scenarios. worst case... we never recover. so then what? not to mention the dilemmas of adulthood that promise to keep you at insanity’s edge. the undelivered promises of loving relationships. raising God-loving children in cruel crux of capitalism. does anyone know of a 21-day, outpatient recovery program for divorce? (if so, can you send me the hotline number?) it seems my life has, in recent times, been a journey riddled in my own recovery or being actively engaged in someone else’s, which feels no less consuming. i am trying not to become exhausted by the ever-changing direction of wind but even the most finely finished flags fray at the edges. i am steadfast in prayer that the people i love will continue to buy me beef bacon and wish me beautiful mornings. i am counting the seconds, minutes, hours… until my heart finds solace in the mere act of beating… until my lungs fill with enough air for a long-overdue exhale... until i can recover the self (or create a self, considering she probably never really existed) who can wholly and unconditionally give and receive love. man, i am really trying not to go into a soliloquy about what is or is not possible based on what experiences we have, what we’ve been exposed to, who our examples are, etc.; or about having as much mercy and compassion for ourselves as we might find for other people as we experience our own healing and growth but that soapbox of rhetoric starts to sound like charlie brown’s teacher after a while. (wha-waaa-whaaa-wa-wa-wa…) i thank Allah (in the beautiful melancholy that is moments like these) that i am a writer. otherwise it would eat away at every fiber of slightly bloated body, and where would be the example of living in that? so here’s to recovery and more recovery and still more recovery.

ok, so one piece of my own healing is happening in my submission process. i actually got another submission off this last week (woooohoooo!). so i am one anticipated rejection closer to greatness. (and rejection recovery!)

finally, for those of you wonderful eough and supportive enough and with time enough on your hands to have offered your critiques and suggestions for the last poem posted, i offer the final version of the poem below. i re-titled it (more fittingly, i think) and took many of you up on your suggestions. it’s funny, as i started incorporating your comments and advice, the story became something other than what i intended. anyway, i think this version keeps the feeling of what i wanted from the initial poem. i hope you like it. (if you don’t, well… write your own poem. I’M KIDDING! i love y’all.)

on toward recovery…
for-evah, for always, for love…
shia

Progeny

when she asks again
how i can tell for sure
he is her dad

when she argues
she was conceived
in my body
not his

she grew
in my belly
not his

she fed
on my breast
not his

she called first
my name
not his

i will tell her
my spine tingled
the exact moment
he gave her
the slant of her eyes
the lankiness of her legs
the fresco of her skin
the slope of her nose
the pout of her lips and
the wit that inspires
her incessant
why

©2006 by Shia Shabazz

2006-01-31T09:09:00.000-08:00

wrote a poem 'bout it... like 2 hear it? here it go...

well, there goes one new year’s resolution shot to shit. i haven’t been writing here weekly as i promised but i guess it’s all a process right? forgive me.

i have, however, been writing a lot lately which feels wonderful. i’ve gotten 2 of 3 submissions completed within the last month which is a fete for me. (i don’t do rejection well.) but a friend advised that i tell myself, “well, they aren’t going to accept this anyway but let me just do it for the practice of submission.” then i’m not tied to the outcome. so when it gets rejected, though my feelings [or ego] will be hurt, i won’t be surprised. but if they DO somehow find it worthy, well, it’s time to go have drinks!

the collection of poems i am currently working on realized itself when my daughter entered the age of inquisition. what i realized then was my ill-preparation to answer her questions about the world as fast as she could pose them. it also took me to a place of questions for my own mothers and how to become the mother i hope to be for my daughter. how do i grow a strong woman? the most immediate answer, obviously, was to be an example of all of the attributes i can only pray will manifest in her (and her brother). the process has been a beautiful dialogue which will someday (hopefully sooner than later) emerge in the form of a book, conversations with butterflies.

the following poem came in the wake of my daughter’s assertion that mom’s are easy but how can you tell who the daddy’s are. (you will see what i mean in the poem.) an no matter how many issues her dad and i have, i need my children to always know that they were conceived in love. i would love to know your first responses to the poem; what it made you think of, or how it made you feel. for the poets, i would love your critical feedback as i want to include this piece in the collection forthcoming. (i was raised at cave canem so i don't bruise easy. i want the good bad and ugly so i can knead it into something delicious. fire away!)

goodness,
shia

her father’s child

when she asks again
how i can tell for sure
that he is her dad

when she argues
that she was conceived
in my body
not his

that she grew
in my stomach
not his

that she fed
on my breast
not his

that she called first
my name
not his

i will tell her
my spine still tingles
from the exact moment
he gave her
the slant of her eyes
her long torso
the lankiness of her legs
the midnight of her skin
the slope of her nose
the pout of her lips and
the desire that inspires
her inquisition

©2006 by Shia Shabazz

2006-01-04T11:43:00.000-08:00

what’s in a name?

difficulty with my name, as you might imagine, isn’t unusual. a name like SHIA doesn’t go unnoticed; be it during the mutilation that happens in first learning it (to which my coaching ends up something like this: “like mia, only with an s-h”; “like sheila without the ‘l’”; “like she, as in ‘her’, only with an “uh” at the end”), or in the realization of its likeness to the as-seen-on-tv “chia pet,” the disney channel star “shia (pronounced shy-uh) laboeff,” the early eighties superwoman “she-ra,” or the hypersensitivity of post 911 americans to “shia,” as in “shia muslims.”

at this point in my life, though, i would like to think i am immune to the hurt feelings that used to come along with the chiding and name maiming. to some extent, i am. but to another, i realized recently that the converse is true. that i am more sensitive now than ever. whether they are nicknames of endearment or birth names or chosen names, they are who we are. and to not acknowledge a person by her name, by his moniker, feels, to me, like a DISservice.

so… what had happent wuz… nearly a year ago, a director whom i greatly admired could not grasp my name; just couldn’t seem to hold it in her mouth. so i jokingly became, “this one” or “that child… you know who you are,” or the one she pointed to with flitting eyes and a shaking hand, trying to force my name from the recesses of her brain. (“shia!” the collective tossed like a dozen lifesavers into a wading pool.)

several months after that, a beloved mentor had a momentary lapse that, in the wake of the “shia!” incident, i refused to allow myself to feel slighted by. interestingly, though, his response to the misprint (of my name in an autograph) was a poem that melted me into a river of tears. “a name for shia shabazz.” and he had NO awareness of the prior incident. only a deep understanding of the importance of my name in that moment. that’s how the universe works. for reasons like these, i continue to stand in awe of, but never question, his brilliance. you can only find brilliance like that when you are engaged with the world in this way, right? i aspire, man.

so yesterday when i was on the phone with someone who, for some reason in the moment, could not manage my son’s name, i begged myself not to obsess about it. but, because this person has long been a part of my life, how could he not properly acknowledge flesh of my flesh? initially, i was struck by the mispronunciation like a tiny rock might star a windshield. but as i sat with it, the tiny chip slithered across the glass into an arm’s length fracture. what does this say about the closeness i romanticized in my head? still true? a figment? he was deeply apologetic (and forgive him… no doubt) but i didn’t want an apology. i wanted to believe again that the people/things that were important to me, were not necessarily AS important to him, but that they were at least worth the sixty seconds it might take to roll a person’s name around on your tongue and give it the just due of correct pronunciation. better yet, i wanted back the moment just before, when i felt like i was important a person enough in his life to know my children’s names as prominently as he knew mine.

call it the lasting effect of middle child syndrome. the identity reclamation of a divorcee. being a woman. being black. hell, being a temperamental artist. not quite sure which answer best fits... or take them all. (they are all valid, right?) but my na’im (pronounced ny-eem, which in arabic means “blessing), my blessing—the tummy-rubbing momma’s boy that he is, will undoubtedly stamp this world with the quiet, loving ways that are uniquely him.

today i am trying to recover myself and my relationship but it’s slow going. old habits (of over-sensitivity) die hard. i am trying to adhere to my resolution. (stop obsessing, start affecting.) this is an opportunity for growth on my part, i know. life can be dizzying. and because i may forget a name, doesn't lesson the impact on a life or the love in a heart, right? someday i am going to forget a name and i am sure i'll pray for mercy because of it. to me, it is important to acknowledge a rose as a rose. and always, ALWAYS, a na’im as a na’im.

fa-evah, fa- evah-evah, fa-evah-evah…

2006-01-03T10:20:00.000-08:00

let the resolutions continue!!!

this writing
for me... inspired by manda-manda

i resolve that this year (2006), i will...

cook more meals at home
sleep longer
meditate/pray
SALSA!
pay more compliments
stop obsessing, start affecting
listen to more music (recorded & live)
sing more
dance naked
take long baths
get massages regularly
tickle and be tickled
read books entirely
write and mail letters
poems, poems, poems!
see more GOOD films
screenplays, screenplays, screenplays!
blog regulary
submit, submit, submit!
save money
spend the money i save on plane tickets
lay in grass, under stars and sun as often as possible
breathe
LOVE impeccably

now i want to see resolutions from
jameri
mere
13
and the chrysalis group!

2005-12-30T08:03:00.000-08:00

5-4-3-2-1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
should old acquaintence be forgot... or at least forgiven in the new year!!!

well, we made it... another year and hopefully we are all wiser; learned all of the lessons of 2005 well enough that we won't have to experience them again. as per my usual, i am writing out my goals for the new year. and i will be better this time (i promise myself) so that by december next year, i won't do my annual scramble in the last 30 days to complete the list of things i failed to do in the eleven months prior. (i am wiser now... right?) admittedly, many of the goals are similar, if not identical to last year's. lose 10 pounds (guess i didn't learn that lesson well enough). read more. create better habits (well, i think i did this one but i also acquired a few new habits that i will have to unlearn this year... hence... lose 10 pounds... again.) save more, spend less. exercise more. curse less (unless it REALLY hurts). love myself, and anyone in an arm's length radius of my heart, impeccably. play with my children more. yell less. (they are going to need to help me out a bit on that one.) compliment people more. self-depricate less. BLOG MORE (we'll see, though i hope you will check in now and again as my PLAN is to write once a week... hmmm...) write, write, write... and did i say write? overall, i can at the least very exhale as i survived the year, which is a triumph in itself considering "we were never meant to survive" anyway, per audre lorde. so i am moving into 2006 one breath, one moment at a time. present and focused. with faith and belief. with laughter. with engines on full blast. it's about time, right?

with no sweetie bubu around to kiss when the clock strikes 2006, the girlz and i have yet to figure out what we are going to do for our new year's eve celebration. i am certain, however, that plenty inhibriants and dancing will be involved. hopefully no dick clark or BET, which would mean we are in the house and missing out on putting on our flyest gear, strolling on 6th in weather far too warm for december, and enjoying what it means to be alive. okay, not that you can't do that in a house coat, in front of the tv with a beer and a bowl of popcorn because sometimes, that's what being alive means in the moment... i'm just saying.

my life filled up this past year with a lot of new wonderful, beautiful new friends (big love to all and to chrysalis). but i feel like i lost a few, too, which pains my heart. or, maybe they aren't lost but they have certainly transitioned for reasons i am not in touch with in the moment of this writing. but i pray they have forgiving hearts for whatever failings i've had in our friendships as i continue to love them through their imperfections as well. i am merciful with myself and patient; prayerful that when our paths cross again, it will be love all the same. i am breathing through it all.

so my beauti-mous, wonder-licious peoples, i bid you and 2005 adieu. i wish you well in 2006. may you find love, wisdom and joy in every moment.

abrazos y besos,
shia SHABAZZ

2005-12-23T10:26:00.000-08:00

2 posts in 2 days? wrote a song 'bout it... like ta hear it, here it go!

do you remember where you where when you first heard luther’s “a house is not a home”? we were living in columbus, ohio. i must have been eleven or twelve. i’m not sure if it was the first time i’d heard the song but it was, if nothing else, the first time i was affected by it; the first time i made sense of “a chair is still a chair, even when there’s no one sitting there.” it was the first time i didn’t’ say, “of course it is still a chair, silly." or, “a chair could never be a house… and a house is a home, isn’t it?” it was the year of my first real crush on a saddle shoe wearing, curly headed, green-eyed boy nicknamed tiger. it was the year of my first heartbreak because he liked michelle hayes and not me. “and when it ends, it ends in tears…”

i think that song would definitely make the score to the soundtrack of my life. we all have one. you know, the compilation of all of the songs through the years that drove you, inspired you, helped you survive to this point. and i am sure in hindsight that some of the songs may have changed because our pasts have all become fiction anyway, right? but my score is to the movie that is my life as i remember it. as i would tell it. hmmm… what would your life’s soundtrack look like? better yet, or at least more accessibly, what would your current theme song be? in this moment, what comes to mind for me is musiq soulchild’s “love.”

“love
so many people use your name in vain
love
those who have faith in you sometimes go astray
love
through all the ups and down’s the joy and hurt
love
for better or worse
I still will chose you first…”

last night mere, gizzy, smiles and i hit tangerines where a band called all u need played the hell outta some luther songs in commemoration. ( dre… lawd, lawd lawd, that child can sang!) then, cut creator took us home with his usual masterful blend of old/new skool beats. i must have lost 5 pounds. everytime i thought i was going to rest, he played something else that demanded my rump be shakin’ to it. (weeks like the ones i’ve had recently will make you need to dance.) anyway, i am nearly whispering due to over-singing last night. i mean… michael jackson (pyt), frankie beverly and maze (before i let go), and a host of others i fail to remember in the wake of tequila sunrise… songs that require your most passionate expression, be it in the voice or in the body. But the really good songs, good lyrics, make your body move reflexively, right?

where does your mind/your body go when you hear…

dig if you will the picture…
she’s a brick… house…
aaaaaa, love to love ya baby…
lovin’ you is easy cuz your beautiful, and makin’ love with you, is all i wanna do…
tell me somethin’ good… tell me that you love me, yeah…
doin’ the butt…
i wanna rock with you, all night… dance you into the sun light…
what’s my dj’s name? cut creator!
i said a-hip, a-hop, a-hibby to the hibbidy, hip hip a hoppa you don’t stop the rocka to the bang bang boogie say up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie-da-be…

(you feel me?)

okay, maybe not great lyrics from all of the above but more than catchy tunes, wouldn’t you say? “the butt” inspired a whole ass shaken movement right? and not sexual movement. just appreciation of something that is signature for many of us.

i am enamored with songs (poems set to music). maybe i’ll write one someday tough i fear our limited vocabulary never fully expresses what i am really feeling, ya know. to minimize expression to verbal or written language only is a slight to the dynamism of being human. and at the same time, if we are present, words can sometimes speak worlds.

new years 2005, i sent to my beloveds the quote that follows; lyrics i first encountered in the e-signature of the brilliantly beautiful poet suheir hammad. i have tried to find something to replace them but
i can’t shake them. in fact, i don’t want to. they speak so well of all of the good i wish for anyone who reads this. if i did write a song for my beautiful, inspired and inspiring readers, as we leave the “joy and pain, sunshine and rain” of 2005, it could not be better stated than this…

"i wish you flowers, sunshine, and smiles. i wish you children that grow to make you proud. i wish
you pretty things to wear, sweet things to smell. i wish you good friends that
always treat you fair. want to wish you ribbons to tie around your hair. i wish
you truckloads of cheer, many happy years. want to wish you freedom to do all
the things you love. want to wish you blessings and kindness from above. want to
wish you sunlight through the clouds. hope you laugh out loud. i wish you
well." --bill withers.

(thank you bill)

mucho abrazos y besos
beaucoup d’amour
love and love and more love,
shia shabazz (fa-evah, fa-evah-evah, fa-evah-evah…)

2005-12-21T14:16:00.000-08:00

SHABAZZ, fa-evah, fa-evah-evah, fa-evah-evah...

i keep trying to post pics of me in my profile, so we'll see if this one works. (if not, i got a bone ta pick wit dat girl from jamaica... jameri! this pic is from the graduation ceremony at my beloved Cave Canem.

oh! and i guess i can do a quick update... i'm FINALLY DIVORCED... (again)! for those of you just tuning in, i thought the deed was done in july, only for it to be revoked and retried and... ahhhh... I'm exhaling again. and please don't get it twisted. this joy is about the rigor of the last year. sure i believe in marriage and that it can work when the right two souls meet. i have two of the most beautiful children you will ever meet and i believe i am absolutely a better person because if the years i spent in my marriage. but everything has it's time and space in the universe. for now, for this time... this space... suffice it to say that i feel like diana ross as dorothy in "the wiz" when she and michael jackson first start down the yellow brick road. remember her skip... how her arms flailed above her head? that's me right now. a girlfriend of mine and i laugh and quote andre 3000 ('fa-evah, fa-evah-evah, fa-evah-evah?!?!") yes, this time it's forever! i am free to unapologetically be ME! and all is right with the world again. i am glad to have closure before the start of the new year.

rounding out last week, i completed 2 submissions... one for Borderlands Poetry Journal and the other for the Tribeca All Access Film Program. last year, my screenplay MARMALADE, landed a finalist position. prayers and good energy into the universe for this year's entry, AWAKENING APRIL. stay tuned...

abrazos y besos,
shia SHABAZZ ... fa-evah, fa-evah-evah, fa-evah-evah!!!

2005-12-21T13:27:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'd jump off a bridge if my friends did!

Manda-Manda tagged me so here goes...

3 screen names I have:
groovenbuttafly
beingshe
shebird

3 physical things I like about myself:
my large eyes (and my lengthy lashes)
my smile (mostly due to my large 2 front teeth)
my ability to love (i love well... any no i don't mean sex, people!)

3 physical things I don't like about myself:
my feet
my veiny hands
having insecurities

3 parts of my heritage:
black
native american
white

3 of my everyday essentials:
salihah-and-naim-alicious kisses (kisses from my children)
coffee (thanks to my Nana)
my horoscope

3 of my favorite musicians:
(well, the first ones that came to mind, currently in my cd player are...)
Legally Blynd ( may not know now, but you will soon)
Miles
Donnie Hathaway

3 things I want in a relationship:
love
honesty
passion

3 lies:
I would NEVER do that
no, I wasn’t going to eat that
I’d love to read at your event for free

3 of my hobbies right now:
graphic design
karaoke (where no one knows me)
dance

3 things I want to do really badly now (with a special someone):
touch
breath lips-to-lips
spoontalk

3 careers I've considered doing:
dancer (jazz/african/hip hop... not POLE!)
artist
pr consultant

3 places I would like to go on vacation to:
mecca
anywhere in south or central america
bhutan

3 kid's names I like:
salihah
naim
quincy

3 ways that I'm a stereotypical dude/lady:
i talk on the phone too much
i cry too much
i care too much about what other people think

3 people I would like to see take this quiz:
jameri
mere
sweetiebubu

2005-11-28T16:15:00.000-08:00

they can steal my bike but not my faith...

my last bike ride was on thanksgiving morning. i rode to the alberston’s grocery store around the corner, just beyond the freeway, to grab the turkey i principally refused to buy at super target. i also picked up a cabernet sauvignon and a chardonnay, one large and one small foil baking pan (for the turkey and the macaroni & cheese, respectively), and a few other last minute things, loaded them into my backpack and the 2 plastic bags on my handle bars and peddled home like i was in a real city. as usual, i rode up the slight incline just behind my stairwell and let the bike coast down the small hill into its usual spot in the cubby underneath the stairs, then spent the rest of the day in my 2nd floor apartment--cooking, cleaning, preparing for guests, hosting and being thankful for it all. after awakening from a 2-day food/family/movie coma on saturday, my son asked if he could show his visiting uncle how well he had mastered racing in, out and around the cul-de-sac on his new bike. that’s when we realized... his bike and my mountain bike had been stolen.

it felt like such a violation. and the way i was feeling when i realized the theft… let’s just say he/she who feels a few bucks richer from their pawn sale or 2 christmas presents closer to completing gift lists should be most thankful this holiday that i didn't catch him/her in the act. (people still steal things? haven’t we evolved as a species?) i mean, sure… i stole a pair of earrings from macy’s when i was 14 (sorry you had to find out this way, daddy). i’ve claimed "reparations" on the mechanical pencils or the papermate pens i’ve gotten from work. but bike stealing? i feel so disillusioned by my own quest for better personhood. you know… connectivity with my fellow wo/man. this violation after an entire weekend’s worth of discussion about faith in humanity, quantum physics (which i am completely intrigued by now) and karma. i mean, all you have to do these days is into the radio for a quick lesson (thank you alicia keys). i can't help but wonder what karmic repercussion is this for me? what payback from the universe is this? i had better get to work on repairing any fissures in my own karmic fabric, just in case. no more papermates and pencils for me? (had i taken that many?) at the same time, i am also trying to swallow/exhale… it’s just a bike.

and then there is the play button in my head i keep searching for so that i can hear, in my own words, all of the lectures i have prepared or doled out to my children about people being fundamentally good and how desperation pushes people to desperate measures (i.e., “looters” in new orleans). or the lecture about leading by example… that’s a good one. how about the one that talks about having mercy on people who don’t know how to be any better than they are. that’s the one i’m searching for in my mental archives.

the interesting thing was that my son, who at six is fit-prone and learning to reroute his anger/frustration about my separation and divorce from his dad, didn’t skip a beat. at the realization that his new bike had been stolen, he said, “that’s okay mommy. i’ll ride my old bike.” he pulled out his old, miniature mountain bike, hopped on and huffed it in, out and around the cul-de-sac like he intended. yes, people… i am taking notes. (it's just a bike.)

other than this pain of losing, my thanksgiving was… well… wonderful. my brother and my sister-in-law (his wife) were in town, along with my other mother (who is really his mother/my dad’s second wife of three). my brother and sis-in-law are contemplating austin as their next place of residence so they took the time to house-shop. my mother found closure and healing of old, old wounds which was beautiful to witness. i got calls from several of my favorite people, hung out with some of my beautiful sistafriends and actually saw movies that had no cartoon characters or G ratings. (highly recommend: “Rent,” “What In The Bleep Do We Know,” and “Jarhead.”)

aside from that, her are a few things i am thankful for...

faith
connection
children
family
health
love
beautifuLL friends
food/shelter/clothing
desire and DESIRE
dark chocolate
forgiving hearts
and
did I say love?

beaucoup d’amour, mes amis…
shia

2005-10-27T15:12:00.000-07:00

LOVE and more love to Donna Wetegrove and TipsOnArt.org. Check out the recent article on yours truly!

http://www.tipsonart.org/programs/shia_barnett.php

abrazos y besos,
shia