d.i.y. recession proof magic

what you need: any hoop earrings that you want to breathe new life into, fabric that you like, glue.

what to do: wrap the fabric around earring any way that you want, glue ends. wait to dry and there you have new reconstructed earrings! if you’re an earring-holic like me, then you’ll probably have oodles of fun using all the earring frames that you have lying around. 

these are the ones i made from old hoops that once were worn by my mummy [these days she says she eh able wearing anything so big. ] and some faux-african print fabric from one of the cloth stores at home. wadada!

stylee, stylee

arguably, i am not one of the most stylish persons out there. possibly because i am too much of a nerd. with self-esteem issues (among other things). a busty nerd. with a bosey back from carrying around too many bags like badu’s bag lady. but this here site, makes me feel cooler and more stylin’ just by looking at it.  plus the whole site with its assault of colors and textures and trinkets and movement and good food and awesome folk add up to be oddly, immensely inspiring to a fellow creative-minded soul. for anyone else who also needs to up the cool.funky.artsy.stylee quotient in life.

i just wanted to lick my pc screen, open my mouth real wide and ingest all of the cool stuff on here (if that were at all possible). check out all the amazingness posted by andrea pippins here at  http://flygirls.typepad.com/

in lieu of another random facebook status update…

just saw a chimp about to be released into “the wild” (that is to say an open sanctuary) for the first time in its life on nat geo—getting fed a large McDonald’s fries on the way out.

sigh.

what’s wrong with that picture?

yes, i watch a lot of national geographic. if anyone had noticed.

brouhahas and caustic interruptions

so, i didn’t watch the infamous broadcast but i heard about it then saw some of the footage via youtube. some of the legions of people out there fussing about kanye west’s outburst the most are largely some of the same people, most vocally promoting these swaggerific ideals on other days. and what’s swagger anyway? but a kind of aggro ego on steroids, masquerading as superficial threads, or “stacks” or the ‘way one carries one’s self.’ swagger (as we know it now) is NOT ever just confidence, which can be quietly internal–this is external and show-offy. it’s oftentimes a kind of corrupted self indulgence and self-absorption too. and worst of all, you can never have to much of it either—allegedly (when realistically you totally can).

swagger is ego dressed up as something and too many people are erroneously proposing it to be some enviable quality all over the place. it revolves around your view of how the world [people, friends, so-called "haters" etc.] views YOU. it’s brash. it’s cocky. and lauded. and for the possessor, probably eats away at certain other constructive ideals like a hungry catepillar—i’d imagine. you can’t have your swagger on high AND be self-reflective at the same time. then when you add some henny into the mix–well, for some folks, it’s a wrap. i mean, people are acting like it’s just kanye but truly, there’s a culture of ego that is popular everywhere you look. since unchecked swagger is so widely promoted in hip hop culture and other kinds of lifestyles: why are people surprised? and suddenly aghast all of a sudden?

or are they?

there are some aspects of contemporary pop and hip hop culture that desperately need new vocabulary and new frames through which to view and understand the world. because the ones they’re working with are sort of problematic to say the least. of course, this being america and kanye being black AND a rapper and taylor swift being who she is, it’s no surprise then that the racial element is being gleefully thrown into the mix by certain kinds of people on top of everything else. he is a product of his industry and american culture, no doubt (among other factors). everyone should just calm down—they’ll both be fine. kanye’s a resilient dude. and maybe ms. swift, upon seeing what happens when the eternally cranked up morning swag goes woefully awry— will surely hop out of her own bed in the morning, with way better things to do. [<--- in case you missed this reference entirely, this here unfortunately, is how you turn your swag on and up.]

Chomping at the Bit Wondering: Where have All the Black Vampires Gone?

I have been watching True Blood since it premiered, unlike some of the legions of never-see-come-sees out there and while I have never read a single Charlaine Harris book yet—surprisingly. I have skimmed them in a book store and I do think that I would enjoy them very much. About as much or even more than I enjoy the shows which are very entertaining. I also watched and enjoyed all seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so go figure that I would jump at the creation of a new vampire show. I may not be at all Gothic and stuff but I do love imaginative story-lines and great characters. Ok, and I might be slightly, admittedly emo too. I’ve come to that realization. In a way that a quirky black West Indian feminist with a bit too much internal angst can be—without the requisite Hot Topic staples, dark clothes and strangulated countenance. Alas, but I do love me some black eyeliner. I know I have too much boobies and ass to be emo, swivel too much when I walk apparently and have an affinity for most variations of hot pink. But the whole emotionality thing? So got that.

Someone in my program is an emerging black science fiction writer who writes science-fiction set the Caribbean (uh-huh, you bes’ believe it!) and she and I were having a short discussion one day about the necessity of such writers. She made a point, to which I whole-heartedly agreed, that if you create an imaginative alternative realm and/or universe and black people are not there. Then you are sending a problematic message. So where the heck are we huh? Keeping in mind that half the fun I imagine, of such creative endeavors is that you the writer, has sole autonomy over this world, you create who is in it, of it, how they speak, what they look like, how they communicate etc. The fantasical worlds in which some writers find themselves creating, obviously reflect their own positionality in life. And if they’re white, well…

Increasingly though, I think that it’s necessary for writers to be cognizant of the world and the characters that they are creating, however mythical the range of what said world may be. Even if they don’t, as a reader/follower of their books and/or television programs, it’s interesting to see what the representations of characters say to me or about people that look like me. J.K. Rowling obviously got that memo. Harry Potter is sprinkled with stock characters that reflect a semblance of diversity of characters and this makes sense. Characters like Cho Chung, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Patel sisters do just that. They’re in London for one, quite a diverse European city; all the wizards couldn’t be white (added to the fact that the whole pure-blood and mud-blood angle would have be less effective otherwise and be read as way more problematic).

For sure, these stock characters are not nuanced in any way that makes them particularly remarkable “authentic” representations of people of color (so to speak) but then again, it’s not that kind of book, nor is Rowling seemingly that kind of writer. And we are not provided with any information about these characters’ backgrounds to safely make those assumptions about where their cultural and ethnic allegiances lie, BUT it’s clear that they have been strategically placed to lend a layer of diversity in the wizarding world. I was (and still am) excited that they are at least, there. Which again, makes sense, mainly because unlike vampires, wizards in Rowling’s world are born and not made. So it’s to be expected that a wide range of persons could conceivably be born with wizarding traits. Bloodsuckers on the other hand pose a different conundrum. I have the same concern with Interview with a Vampire, which I read a long time ago, as well as the film, which is set in an entirely different era which makes the absence of black vampires understandable to a greater extent.

So, while I don’t know who made the first vampire, (literally not like, creatively) though it crossed my mind while writing this piece but generally speaking, it seems like white vampires make other white vampires, so who makes black vampires? In a fantastical world where the undead are running amok, would I be intrinsically safer then, since no one would be clamoring to sink their fangs into a dark chocolate-colored neck? Presuming of course that all the vampires are white. Not vampire violence, I’m wondering, would a white vampire want to make me one of them? I have no doubt that in such a town, I’d be just as fearful of vampire violence as the blond-haired damsel would. But would I have to worry about becoming one myself? In all of Sunnydale, I never once saw any black vampires battling Buffy in large numbers, least of all independently as a nemesis. I was excited though to see the black slayer Kendra: bad pseudo-West Indian accent and all, appearing in one story-line. So while black characters and any characters of color are great within a certain framework. I think in fantasy, dark fantasy, epic fantasy and sci-fi—all these places are instances where you’d think, it would be really easy to insert some complexity of racial representation. But it doesn’t seem to happen as much as you would think.

On top of which, vampires, especially the 21st century kind ones in True Blood seem to be involved in a kind of selective breeding program. Actually, vampires have always been kind of picky about who they let into the club-house when you think about it. They can be snooty as hell. It’s like an elite club. In “Bon Temps” where True Blood is set, no one’s making you a vampire just because. I mean, Lafayette practically offered himself to Eric on a bloody platter (granted in exchange for his life) and he was refused. Still, Eric is King Snooty and he might have had other concerns (Temporarily damaged leg. Lafayette’s also dealt drugs and presumably done some as well. It can’t be anything else. And no one is too flamboyant to be a vampire. Don’t buy that). But I think it’s fascinating that in a southern American town, we have seen no recurring black vampires at Fangtasia or elsewhere.

Heaven knows, if I was a bloodsucker, I’d want Lafayette inside my nest with his smart, funny, expertly wearing false-eyelashes self. Interestingly too, mythic literary interpretations of vampires clearly show how even when vampires attack to feed, there is a large component of desirablilty underscoring their choices. Most of all, this is seen in how they strategically decide who they choose to be “maker” of. Vampires will surely attack to kill indiscriminately and this may be coupled with feeding but they can also choose to prey on people who are appealing, or attractive to them for some reason and no other. Thus they kill and change people who look like them or appeal to them, (in personality, virtues or lack thereof, qualities etc.) in order to make them join the community, for a reason. Still, vamps by default are white, even though there are many different kinds of people in the world—all pumped full of blood, ready to be alighted upon.

[And anyway, on a sidenote, reasons black people will make good vampires include: 1. some of us are deathly fearful of the sun anyway and 2. melanin means we age excellently, so imagine what a dose of immortality might add 3. we'd probably be better vampires because of said melanin, as in not exploding into a sun-fueled fireball as quickly or as easily 4. we throw great parties (imagine the fang club now) 5. we're innovative and resourceful (even with limited resources) and will help vamps to trick out their sleeping lairs like never seen before. No one will have to sleep in a decrepit crypt, devoid of personality anymore.] 

So far, in the television series, no one has even tried to seriously turn Tara and she’s a main black character, cavorting all over Bon Temps all hours of the night with all these bloodsuckers all over the town. Keep in mind, I haven’t read the books so I don’t know what’s explored within the books by Harris (who is white) but I think, that maybe a nest of black vampires existing in Bon Temps would have been a fascinating added layer and why not? I know we’re in the south but someone has to have made a black vampire, right? True Blood also has this great way of layering real world issues inside fangtastical ones and parodying them in clever, creative ways which adds to the smartness of the storylines.

Like vampires “coming out the coffin,” with the sexuality issues for the rest of society, or social alienation with depression and other mental health concerns, vampire rights with civil rights, the drug “V” and the fight against the proliferation of highly addictive narcotics. The notion of race in a Southern town, already touched on ever so slightly in parts of the first season, could have added a whole other dimension to a vampiric world, already riddled with outside-world issues. Added to which, vampires have all but solved the nature vs. nurture question which Godric and other conscientious vampires wrestle with constantly. But no one sees race.  Are nests just segregated or something?

I am pretty certain that there is no end of black people who are possibly happy that it’s only ‘crazy white people’ running around biting people. And, why is that? Hmmmm. If there’s a fun, dark and creepy, fantasy world being created and I am of this world, then I want to be in that one dammit! Though vampires can beat the odds at life, provided they stay away from wooden stakes, sunlight, silver, fires and rabid members of Fellowship of the Sun church, they clearly haven’t beat the social and racial odds at life. Their community and by extension, the people that they choose to extend invitations to (willingly or otherwise) reflect the real world biases that the undead are yet to transcend. Seriously though, our colors may be different but I’m pretty sure all blood taste the same. Bite that.

in case you [or someone you know] had been thinking about it…

so i was watching a new locked up abroad recently and from the get-go i’m thinking:

out, LESBIAN couple drug mules, one visibly butch, en route to JAMAICA—probably not a good idea.

[almost anywhere in the region actually] but especially there. i mean, ANY attempt at the airport nonchalance routine would just, like, fail. isn’t part of drug-mule-ism, not calling attention to one’s self? [i think]  you had to know it wasn’t going to end well.

besides staving off the aspirations of  any ill-prepared, drug mule-ees out there [thank me later], i’m going to try to get an interview with my friend yoly to blog about later—-she’s an american i met through school friends, who just moved to trinidad and tobago and i think with her personality, it might be fun to get some insight into how that process has been thus far, aspirations etc. exciting stuff huh?

meh. you don’t have to agree.

[on the other hand, if it turns out to be all, "you trinis are sooo much fun!" type crap, then i will NOT be posting jack. just an idea. we'll see how this all pans out]

words to live by…

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time. This expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” — Martha Graham

sex.music.dancehall. blah blah blah…

This is an addendum to Hot Wuk in the Dancehall: What’s Sex Got to do with it? that’s been lurking around the place for me to finish and post. So a certain male, um, friend of mine, who likes to complain that I unfairly bash men all the time (so not true!), responded to my blog in person a while ago, by telling me that his beef with what I had to say was that ”the women singing the same thing too!” I don’t know if I agree with that entirely or that it makes much of a difference to my stance in the original piece. Mainly because female performers like Tanya Stephens and Lady Saw still complicate their sexual experience(s) in ways that male djs hardly (n)ever do today. 

For instance we can compare and contrast lyrics from the ole school “The Healing” (by Lady Saw and Beenie Man, released June 1997) with “Ninja Bike” (Tanya Stephens, released April 1998) for example and at least come up with some kind of range of experience between the two. Lady Saw wants to “stretch to the ceiling” and Tanya wants “a big ninja bike fi mi ride pon.” Someone said to me, back in the day, that “The Healing” at the time, was one of the best dancehall love-songs that he had ever heard and I think that description would still hold up today. After all, there is a sensitivity in Beenie expressed—sensitivity! Specifically in lines like, “you are di girl who brought di joy in my world” and “oh Saw dis is possible / I woulda wuk you even if you cripple / You coulda blind, you coulda deaf or full handicap too / I love di woman weh inside a you.” Sweet.

Still, I don’t see nearly any semblance of diversity in male male djs singing about sex and appropriations of sexual behavior, these days. Everything is hard and fast and painful i.e. pleasurable. And not much else is going on. Furthermore, in terms of Lady Saw, Tanya and others aside, while I appreciate ’the woman’s voice’ in song, the perspective and agency of female djs in music — I would still have a problem if women were only envisioning one kind of sexual experience.  Just because a female employs a similar theme (though I think one can deconstruct and illustrate that they don’t all do so), that wouldn’t make it okay either. I’d want them to complicate their thematic concerns too — or at least, the ways in which they are presented. I’m gonna have a problem with every female now declaring in song that they want “it up inna mi tripe” or bitten nipples, alongside, “mi and him haffi go fight.” Seriously, I don’t see how anyone could not see the sexually violent overtures, all over the place in that song.  

Additionally, in the sometimes complex grey-area of what exactly constitutes a dance-hall love song these days — a hyper masculinized and hyper sexualized genre space — I mean the above quoted “Romping Shop” (release date, April 2009) is supposed to be considered one, depending on one’s taste and how you look at it. Ok, well maybe it’s a relationship-song. Either way, it’s a duo and duos tend to lend themselves to being categorized in that way. And Kartel and Spice are clearly singing about a relationship — their relationship, albeit essentially sexual, but presumably a kind of relationship anyway. Interestingly, as song duos go, usually there is usually a “man’s voice” and a “woman’s voice” going on in some of these songs. (Yes, they’re very gendered and stereotypical and all that). But in terms of diversifying a range of voice, “The Healing” exemplifies it quite well and there is a lyrical banter going back and forth between Saw and Beenie which reflects that “voice”. That clear notion of what Beenie Man wants and prioritizes (in the song) through his song persona and the same for Lady Saw.

What’s interesting about the monkey wrench that is “Romping Shop,” is the way in which Spice does NOT embody the voice of a lamenting female is this track. Many dancehall love-song duos don’t do that in the same way that genres like R&B, or pop or even soca do, plus there aren’t a whole heap of them to work with either. Granted a song duo can also be declarative but we tend to have an expection of the presentation of a male-female song duo. Forget the lament, furthermore, it’s what Spice is beckoning for in “Romping Shop” and the way she goes about expressing it which is central to the song.

Actually, there is almost no distinction in tone between her and Kartel’s stance with regard to their dealings (like poetic tone, if I may use that expression, not like vocal tone). Her aggro matches that of the contemporary popular dancehall dj culture that I critiqued before. Which is really fascinating and probably warrants some attention to detail; I don’t know if I will necessarily do that here at this moment AND I also really don’t know if I like it or not. Sure, I’ll listen  to the song and even dance to it, (there are a couple dancehall songs that I will boycott in a party on personal principle and not dance to. Like anyone cares) but I’m not sure that I like or even embrace what ”Romping Shop” represents. Really. But unfortunately,  it’s fun to flex out to. (insert self consternating gasp here).

It’s like bad liberal-feminist-cosmopolitan magazine-take-charge-of-your-sexuality-and-your-man ideals gone askew or something. Kartel — well, what do you expect. But I think it’s safe to say that the majority of people who are wont to be scandalized by such things and are, feel that way not just by the whole song but what the female especially, sings and exemplifies. When you combine the two — well it’s just moreso. And I’m a feminist. And far from prudish. Waaaaay far. But jeez. Granted a song is a mere snapshot and you can’t read a performer’s entire artistic scope from one song but people will anyway and they will hold artistes accountable for the most memorable tracks (be that positive or negative) and the ways in which they have interpreted them through their music.

So once again, as I’ve said before, there are a myriad of ways to explore sex and sexuality in music and various kinds of art. In life in fact. In loving ways, in not so loving ways, problematic ways. And, yes, I’ll acquiesce, even some daggerin’. But there’s also more. Much, much more. When are people going to start back singing about that?

In case you missed it entirely. Read, my “Hot Wuk in the Dancehall: So what’s Sex Got to Do With It” below:

http://trinidadjunction.wordpress.com/2008/12/14/hot-wuk-in-the-dancehall-so-whats-sex-got-to-do-with-it/

how to wrestle the crap inside of your head…

from a bumper sticker i saw on a car while driving through boston:

“don’t believe everything that you think.”

i think i will have to always try to remember that.

bleeding. and ways to feed yourself with words.

a visiting writer read this poem today in a reading and panel discussion. and all i have to say about it is:

OMG

— yes, in all caps.

i was left feeling split open to the core in this strangely inexplicable way. i squirmed in my seat. it’s just such an incredibly profound poem on so many levels. it underscores the symbiotic fucked-up-ness of relationships, of life it seems.

if you haven’t, do read “bleeding” by may swenson here. gosh golly wow.

then there’s this, amazingly:

my dream about being white

by lucille clifton

hey music and

me

only white,

hair a flutter of

fall leaves

circling my perfect

line of a nose,

no lips,

no behind, hey

white me

and i’m wearing

white history

but there’s no future

in those clothes

so i take them off and

wake up

dancing.

 

read more about her here.