GOOGLE ME... or not!

About a year ago, I went to Google.com and typed a close relative's name into the search field. To my utter shock and admitted disappointment, I scrolled through a lengthy array of provocative photos, articles, links and videos that I thought painted a limited, bawdy picture of said nameless relative. What I found out later was that rather than the fear and vulnerability I felt on said relative's (SR's) behalf, SR is rather proud of the display and the notoriety gained from it.

As a person who loathes judgment and the implications of it, I hated that my visceral response to what I'd found was so negative. My tsk-tsk-tsk and shaking head over the idea that SR had carelessly let the world in on some of the most sacred and intimate spaces of life. Even further, my response went against every fiber of my being that tries not to perpetuate judgment, only to realize my own painful truth... that I REALLY hate to be judged.

I guess that's a sort of universal truth, hating to be held under the stage clip of some not-so-objective lens. That's pretty ironic coming from someone who, on a semi-regular basis, offers her own tidbits and perspectives that people openly form opinions about; occasional poems and other moments of naked wit and (dare I say) wisdom via cyber missive-to-self and anyone-who-will-read-them-blogs.

Finally, and probably most pointedly, my experience with SR made me wonder who, if anyone, has ever gone to Google to specifically search, or "google," me... other than ME, that is. These days, it would seem that the answer to that - otherwise hypothetical question - would be... perspective employers!

For several unnamable reasons, I am posting this. In part, as an experiment. But mostly, this post is in response to a number of graduating seniors I know (and mentor) as reiteration and proof that neither (A) the profiled photos of their bare, flexed abs, flanked by flailing, wagging tongues, nor (B) the statuses that have more four-letter-words than Lil Weezy’s last hit record, are the best ways to make a possible first impression on prospective jobs. (A “hoodie photo" of myself and my family may not be best either but I would hope the national concerns of late make it permissible and understandable… but I digress.)

Since my verbal counsel seems not to suffice, I offer Kit Eaton’s 2009 article, “If You're Applying for a Job, Censor Your Facebook Page,” from FastCompany.com (written long before any of my students could tell a tweet from a twit; before any of them even knew there was a Facebook). Some of the stats may be a bit confusing, but, give the article an entire read through… then, when we meet again, tell me what you think.

Until then, my beloved myspace-facebook-tweet-blogger darlings, keep your clothes on in your profile pictures, hope for world peace in your status updates, keep your public social networking private, and keep your job prospects… prospective.

Onward and upward...
xo

Poetry for the People: 20th Anniversary Celebration!

UC Berkeley African American Studies Department presents June Jordan’s Poetry for the People A 20th Anniversary Celebration Featuring P4P extended family & Patricia Smith [National Book Award & 3X National Poetry Slam winner]

Friday, March 16, 2012

An Evening of Poetry Featuring STP Alumni, including
Xochiquetzal Candelaria
Ariel Luckey
Terry Taplin
Sandra Garcia-Rivera
Milani Pelley
Shia Shabazz Smith
Lateef McLeod
Alicia Zakon
Javier Zamora
Hosted by P4P Director Aya de Leon

7pm @ 145 Dwinelle Hall (UC Berkeley)
FREE! Wheelchair Accessible. All are welcome!!

Saturday, March 17, 2012
10AM-10PM
A day of conversations, workshops, panels, performances, open mics, booksignings & honoring the memory and legacy of founder June Jordan for current & former P4P poets, STPs, Bay Area artists & activists, teen poets, aspiring writers, slammers, page poets, novelists, community builders, poetry lovers, etc.

Patricia Smith will give a talk in the afternoon (space is limited!)
An Evening of Poetry
featuring Patricia Smith + P4P & Bay Area Poets & artists

Saturday location:
UC Berkeley Multicultural Center
1st Floor MLK Student Union
near corner of Bancroft & Telegraph in Berkeley

Conference is FREE! Wheelchair Accessible. All are welcome!!

Evening Performance featuring P4P & Patricia Smith is priced as follows:
$20 suggested donation
$15 college studens w/ ID
$5 youth 18 & under w/ ID (ltd qty)
HALF-PRICE TICKETS TO SHOW FOR CONFERENCE PARTICIPANTS.
AVAILABLE ON SITE @ 1PM!!
Poetry for the People “a political movement anybody anywhere can join, imitate, or improve…a literary movement no one can stifle or erase.”
–June Jordan

For more information, please go to www.facebook.com/PoetryforthePeople

put a leash on your dog!

a coworker recently informed me that 2012, the year of the dragon, is supposed to suck for those of us born in the year of the dog. born on the "day of the top dog," in fact, my year so far is starting to make sense. so, the direction given to those of us dreading the oncoming year is to lay low, hang in the cut, breathe, and get ready. sounds like pretty good advice,

so, that's what i've been trying to do... well, as much as possible... so i will be ready. for what? i'm not exactly certain. (for more ease/for a better payday/for all of the torents to smooth themselves and for the sails to swell with promise... perhaps...) i feel like i've done too much work and prepared for far too long for my opportunity/"my luck"/ my blessing to be much further than around the proverbial corner. that said, i'm trying to remain present. trying to pray, read and listen; meditate... here I go...

if only this woman sitting next to me would PLEASE stop smacking! SHEESH!

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...)

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


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


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


4. (PRIVATE)


5. read a screenplay/work in your favorite genre


6. finish writing a screenplay (ScriptFrenzy)


7. enter a writing contest


8. read a book of poems (suggestions?)


9. read the autobiography of an author or a memoir


10. see 12 movies (1/month)


11. mentor a young person


12. write a letter to 6 family members and mail them


13. write using a prompt (suggestions)


14. read the newspaper cover to cover


15. take a dance lesson


16. visit an art museum


17. go to a poetry reading (venue suggestions?)


18. read at a poetry reading/open mic


19. parle francais avec ma soeur


20. paint on canvas


21. write a short film


22. shoot a short film


23. get a massage


24. get a mani/pedi


25. eat sushi


26. eat tiramisu


27. swim in an ocean


28. walk barefoot


29. ride a bike


30. buy a cozy robe


31. attend a professional conference


32. apply for a fellowship


33. skip


34. sing


35. (PRIVATE)


36. make bookmarks


37. make a carrot cake from scratch


38. take a writing workshop


39. lead a writing workshop


40. make a tshirt


41. create/order business cards


42. buy some red toms


43. get a new journal that i LOVE


44. new collection of pens


45. acquire 12 classic movies


46. begin a collaborative project


47. pitch a project


48. volunteer for a day


49. work freelance (builds muscle)


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


51. journal, journal, journal!


52. 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...

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!

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

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

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 

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

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

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...

"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.

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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)