 June was a challenging month for me. I stood 10 toes down in claiming my joy in the face of antagonism and deception. Praise is truly a weapon. On Juneteenth, all of my belongings were packed into an 26 foot moving truck and transported to a storage unit. I worked, emotionally and physically in a hostile environment on a day declared for freedom for people that look like me. But I snatched my joy and peace back. Celebrating the door slammed shut on that season of my life. Mood Board for July 2024  Now I center rest. Setting intentions daily, savoring a warm cup of tea, and working in environments that promote peace. I'm chilling poolside as I write to you. I lived with chaos for 4 years of my life. Redemption is peace. Purpose for July: Embrace glorious change
0 Comments
 Thrifted St. John set circa 2006. Snakeskin bag, rose gold necklace, and enamel earrings from late 80's to early 90's. Clothes hold memories.
And as an avid thrift and vintage shopper, I wrestle with the idea that I am wearing someone else's memory. Do you remember what you wore to experience your last joy? What about your last tragedy? I vividly remember what I wore to commemorate the saddest day of my life. A sleeveless cable knit sweater matched with an a-line pleated white skirt. Even though I never wore them after that day in April, I carried them with me for several moves. I felt like it was betrayal to the memory if I were to get rid of them. As my wardrobe grew and storage of unworn items was taking over my closet, it was time to let go of those "grave clothes". My favorite thrifted items are from glory brands of the mid 80's to late 90's. St. John, Escada, Fendi, Carlisle, DVF.. brands that were representative of an independent woman. I like to believe that I am conjuring the energy of independence and joy that's imbedded in my new to me clothes. That their pristine condition is symptomatic of their previous owner’s tenacious care associated with positive lived experiences. That I am wearing garments of praise.  Before trauma snatched
my identity. It took my breath. Snatched in a scream. And hid it from me. It strangled me. Shallow Breathe. Fast, dull heartbeat Ache All over. Discomfort All over Itchy. Mind. Skin. Sore Head. A Scream, Caught in the last minute of death. Gorge Floyd’s Last Breathe. Suck before the Light goes out. Dim Caught Between Praying for death with mouth full of mustard seed. Torture Seeing the joy of my life History Praying for the feeling of Hope. Seeing Death. More Death. Snaps of Life Cloudy Dancing Eyes Wide More Seeing An explosive coming Blood of Fear. Hot Drowning Stuck. Déjà vu of nightmares. Dreams better than life. The Aesthetics of Trauma Living the Nightmare in Déjà vu. Giving birth to death. Cradling it with Love Living for Death. Moments after suicide Attempt. The taste of mustard seed. Remembrance of those Before You. Mommy, Grandma, Great-Grandma Josephine Baker. Tina Turner. Stories. Interconnected Strength. Generational hurt felt in my cells.  me, 12 years old To the little girl who was disinvited to birthday parties because she is Black. To the little girl who was called a racial slur. To the little girl who is struggling with identity in an environment that doesn't reflect you..I see you. I am holding you. I love you. You are worthy of protection, love, and glory. Inside of you is courage and a minsitry of redemption.
You are struggling with eczema, hair breakage, and weight gain. Your freedom and healing will be discovered in your self expression: journaling, ballet, and fashion. Six months after this photo, you will be spiritually reborn. You don't even know it, but you will become my personal style icon. This stripped outfit will be replicated at least 6 times in my adult life. I love you. You are worthy. You are whole. |
