a black girl

It began with a clap

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Today, a beautiful torrential rainstorm showed herself to me and all of the DC Metro area.

I hadn't gotten one since my life in Atlanta. I hadn't realized how much I missed them. How the energy is all woman, all powerful, all awe inspiring.

She began with a clap.

As if to say, "Sister, you have been in the house all day for three days. Have not enjoyed the hot weather you've prayed for. The sun on your face and back. You have not sat to witness the beauty of a day." My living room darkened.

So I stopped.

I stopped from my cleaning and CD playing. I turned everything down. Put the screensaver on the laptop (which happens to be a storm simulation) and sat in the big momma chair by the window to witness.

Would you think I am odd if I could sense the whole weight of her body moving across the sky?

It was at her belly at which I realized the storm was passing. As Nia hopped onto mine, I thanked her (the storm that is). Breathed deeply and watched my living room illuminate.

The thing about torrential rainstorms is that you *know* they will pass. You can hear it, feel it. The violence of them, the unpredictability.

Now I'm no priestess of any spiritual system, but I wanted to give her a name. I know in Ifá there is Oya, who is known for her unpredictability, change, but in winds. Her husband Shango is known for lightening, thunder and the like...

Yaweh, Jehova, too masculinized, to general for the very specific-ness of this storm's presence.

Again... I'm no priestess, but this storm was a sista. And it has nothing to do with the unpredictability of a woman. There was a way in which we communed which was much like the way I talk with many women. Especially ones a little older than me--very real, but deep in reverence.

When she clapped it was very much the way I hear my mother's voice call before she has uttered anything. I knew she was here before she came. And I knew she had a bone to pick... with me.

I'm learning to listen. Before the clap.

Labels: gender, religion, spirituality, summer, weather

uttered by a black girl at 3:41 PM. | 0 comments

. . . . . . The Universe Has Found Favor In Me

Friday, February 09, 2007

Tomorrow is the first anniversary of the day it all began. I've been considering going to each doctor that brushed me off a year ago to issue a statement to them to take a black girl seriously when she comes into their emergency rooms complaining about pelvic pain. It's amazing that as I stand before this week, which will surely be a spiritual, emotional, and tiring week-- it also has promise to become a most creative week.

It's time for contorsionartist to be done. She's impatient now and the universe has set up at least one venue where she can be shared with the world (literally), and with the internet, that makes two. I've struggled with how she will be executed for almost a year now, and I've decided to simply leap into it. I've made so many images already that spring from my mind and confess pain beyond the physical in technicolor. It's time I took my creativity seriously, because there are more projects waiting to be born after this.

The universe is amazing amazing amazing. As soon as my mind is fixed on getting better the universe bends to tell me what is right and what is wrong.

Ms. Sales called me today to invite me to a concert next weekend. She also offered me some work, with some pay that's a blessing. And she discussed with me her current project which will be opening in Los Angeles. She hopes to take this on the road, each city a new set of artists. I asked if I could be considered and she was open to it, asking me for more details about how contorsion artist can be transformed into a performance peice. My mind spun at the idea. She also let me know that she didn't know if I was really and artist sometimes because of this whole PhD thing. This she told me after I said I am thinking of leaving my program. She told me that yes, I should focus on my art.

I came into clarity and fear at the same time this afternoon. On my way to take Nia to her new vet was an art supply store. Although I didn't buy anything (instead I opted for the bookstore next door to get a medical dictionary and a medical anatomy book for the project) I decided, yes it will be done. I promised myself that tomorrow it will be done: the first day of the week long anniversary of my ovary's death.

I am also to meet folks from SCAD tomorrow. I am rethinking Atlanta now, but even it seems to call nonetheless (or maybe its Savannah? I miss the ocean...). No programs in painting here in DC. The closest one is in Richmond (yuck).

But inside me begs the question of where I can find community there. Nothing is truly stable or promised.

Recently I've been thinking France.

SCAD has a program in Lacoste.

The Universe has found favor in me.

Labels: activism, art, fortune, gender, medicine, race

uttered by a black girl at 11:51 PM. | 5 comments

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