a week before this photo was taken, i cut my hair without my mother’s permission.
i knew it was wrong but i didn’t care
despite the consequences, i have always moved with my instincts
my mother on the other hand, did not care about my heart’s desire when she saw the asymmetrical bangs i gave myself
she was heartbroken.
i had such long, thick hair. how could i do that to myself?
in memoriam of those fallen strands, she kept them in a plastic baggie in the first drawer of my childhood dresser
we have always been the sentimental type.
you wouldn’t have been able to tell my hair was cut if i hadn’t told you.
that is because presentation always mattered to my mother.
she got it from my Nana....
....and passed it down to me.
the women in my life were the earliest and most influenticial examples of black womanhood.
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they taught me how to dress, speak and carry myself.
embedded in me is a piece of their respective experience.
my mind wanders a lot,
i can only concentrate on what i am invested in.
sometimes i wake up with words in my head
i release them
i let them breathe
i go through journals like tea bags
i only second guess myself on paper.
my grocery lists are calligraphy practice
cursive is faster.
i find great comfort in escapism.
if we lived in an ideal world,
i would live in this house in Majorca, Spain.
i would listen to my favorite songs all day
thinking of you,
sister sledge
miss camaraderie,
azealia banks
preservation,
eartheater
stay flo,
solange
lovers rock,
sade
harlem river drive
bobbi humphrey
i felt love,
blue hawaii
something about john coltrane,
alice coltrane
i am your mind pt ii,
roy ayers
choppa won‘t miss,
playboi carti
(feat. young thug)
i would host lavish garden parties,
cut my own bangs,
move with no sense of urgency,
lounging like my grandma in the 70s.