where the wild things are

dear backseam readers,

i want to say thank you for staying consistent and reading.

i’ve been bad; barely blogging, and figuring out things for ’09.

that said, i will be be back.

officially.

2010 is a promising year, a year of celebration.

stay tune, you will be informed.

thanks again.

happy holloween, thanksgiving, christmas, hanakah, kwanaza, and new years.

i’ll be where the wild things are.

dear son,

stay fearless, and you will be great!

Holi | Hindu festival of color, in Jaisalmer

see more at TheLoveInUs

gig | Khayatollah, Keith Selby, Butch Diva, & Moi

A while back I directed a photo shoot (in the form of a visual story) with some really cool individuals for TRACE magazine online. I must say, the experience was fresh. Further more, it was effortlessly fresh! I wrote a piece to accompany the photographs, and I advise everyone to check it out. Homage to Her is a tribute to all the ladies that take full ownership of their hustle an grind. If you don’t know what that is, then…take the chance to read up on it. And if you do know what it is, still take the chance to read up on it, and celebrate all that you have become.

“Although you won’t run into a girl like Beyonce, Halle Berry, or Oprah Winfrey twice in one week, there are hundreds of “dim-light” females that embody the same female hustle mentality. In fact, Her hustle is not validated by the amount of recognition she receives, but by her growth that she can only achieve when…” -excerpt from Homage to Her.

read more here.

leave comment.

s p r e a d props.

ahhh | JMonae for Kia Soul Collective

this girl’s presence is divine.

plain and simple.

check her out in the kia soul collective video documenting her new single “Come Alive”.

she’s a breathe of fresh air, and keeps me believing true art still exist.

keep it coming. s p r e a d creativity.

video here.

basics | not up for discussion.

make federelli.

seek balance.

protect hustle.

auspicious behavior.

i’ve been getting emails with images like these attached.

nice way to share thoughts.

these are a few of my favorites.

thank you for the kind words.

keep it coming. s p r e a d positivity.

this time baby i’ll be BULLETPROOF*

breakups aren’t easy.

especially when the words dice the core until there isn’t another choice.

so now.

i’ve learned.

in the span of time. a month for every year.

i re-traced our steps, to see where i skipped a beat.

couldn’t find it.

except for every time my heart saw you.

the memories bookmark my head,

for all the places we’ve been.

painting the town in the colors we liked.

your smile illuminated my soul.

my words captivated your mind.

but now you’re no longer invited into my space.

and next time if you try to shoot your arrow,

it will fall against my new improved thick skin.

no more doubt.

i’ll secure a spot in my own heart and existence.

Unspoken Dialouge

im having a hard time

trying to figure us out.

are we friends?

are we lovers?

are we standing here for one another?

i can’t wait for forever

when the answer

is written…

in the sky.

Copyright © 2009 | Free To Bee Productions.

image via trendland.com

hmm… | guys worthy looking at, twice.

of course a good man is not based on his clothing, but i will say, a good man should know how to wears his clothing. nothing makes me weaker than to see a man, S H A R P in all fashion (pun intended). his clothes must be clean, fits appropiately, and makes an individual statement. soooo. here are some guys that make my knees shiver…and will attract my side-eye.

guy on right: love a dark black man who knows what works for his skin.

white is the color that intensifies the cocoa look.

love to look: every friday and saturday night.

man who does art: a plus. gives me two things to look at.

the comfortable conscious look is appealing.

any guy who can make me stare in his work suit gets a big point.

love to look: monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, and friday around 2pm.

guy on the right: W O W. charming and hella something. I’ll say, he’s a keeper.

The Persian clothe look is not easy to pull off, and if done well,

only a few can be as appetizing as this guy.

love to look: Saturday; late afternoon (for gallery chatter) early dinner (at a bistro).

mixed feelings: i don’t discriminate as long as they have an ounce of African-American in them. Those eyes. hmm.

Any guy that can wear sweatpants and still look fitting enough for semi-formal brunch (with the parents) is a catch.

love to look: Only on Sundays for brunch.

all images via contributing editor

*all comments, as superficial as they appear

are entertainment purposes only.

don’t take life too seriously.

replay | Sol-Angel & The Hadley St. Dreams

all the buzz about her buzz definitely played a big part in my sudden interest to listen to her tunes again. not to mention, my friend is a die-hard fan of this psycho SOL-sista. i still agree that there isn’t something quite right, but that’s just my skeptiscism.

anywho-my point.

i pulled out her lastest album and was presently surprised by her lyrical divinity. now that the 60′s music is no longer “popping“, i was finally able to listen to it with an open heart. she is a big girl now. blossomed from her cartoon sitcom hits, and reggae inspired bangers, into a diplomatic take on her raw emotions. hat’s off. she’s a tight writer, and a talented vocalist.

definitely replay-worthy. album summary:

(on) valentine’s day,

i would’ve been the one

(to have) white picket dreams.

i told you so

(that i would end up) dancing in the dark (alone).

Off

Off with my head.

It will roll into the ocean

to be washed away from all of the conditioning.

Pink, purple, royal blue, then gray.

From color to bland.

My priors get lost in the sand.

My body body will drop to its knees to ask for forgivness

but i will be gone.

Off with the wave.

Off in the wind.

A new beginning…lovely.

Copyright © 2009 | Free To Bee Productions.

(no title)

Sometimes I feel I want to hide away forever.

Run into nature and live there peacefully.

Away from them, away from you.

We are so different that it scares me.

But…somehow…we’re just, alike.

So whenever I write I confront you in my words.

And in my dreams. I’m much bolder there.

I wonder why you never say hello.

We stare while passing…a smile we share.

A common understanding.

A kind of love that is unspoken.

A hood classic. The first ghetto epic.

The novel for the future young people.

We know who we are to each other.

I’m you’re fantasy.

You’re my inspiration.

As I dress in the morning…

In every executive decision…

Inside of every smile…

There you are at the foundation of it all.

So when we’ll meet face to face again.

I’ll play it cool, just to smile at you.

is quite enough.

Lyrics Copyright © 2009 | Free To Bee Productions.

CLOSET (a true story)

I sold everything of yours that I could  find that was worth a dime.

Still you linger in and out of my apartment.

I kept your linen shirt with your monogram.

For some reason, it feels important.

Potent. The scent of you fills my body.

My nose. My mouth. I need something to eat.

So I run to the corner store for a cigarette.

Maybe it will sooth my hunger pain.

For a veggie burger, some fries, and a nice glass of you wine.

It mattes the craving just a bit.

I smoke to stare.

A man opens the bodega door, I fall onto my knee.

Thanks! I thought.

images courtesy of lovisaburfitt.com

short stories | windows with no curtains

On a Vineyard in Wachau

We made a toast to unprotected sex then pulling out. After the wine settled, I realized that it wasn’t smart, safe or possible, considering I’m single.

The only men available to go into the wild with were all a waste of time. I want to feel wild and free and sexy the way I did when I hit the fostering ocean weeks back. I belonged to the ocean. Followed the waves, embraced the water’s lead.

Being intimate at a time of chaos – the Riesling’s draining. Thoughts more focused as I catch the wind outside of my favorite restaurant. When will I stop coming here? When will I let go of the life I use to live? I think of how good it’ll feel to have a man in my freshly designed cottage. It’ll feel good. He’ll feel good. By morning, I’d want more.

I want that feeling that the ocean gives, working with the sun, pleasing me. Depth, passion, love, warmth. I want to feel a man again. After another glass, I convince myself I can have this feeling all the time. Must get home. Need nurturing; I can worry about the love part later.

-Feminine

On Women’s [Mental] Health

Did I ever tell you reading Women’s Health makes me feel skinny? Like last month’s issue. I read it for the little facts. Like hummus being a natural abdomen tightener or how green tea helps you burn calories. I prefer men’s magazines to stay away from countless pieces on love and relationships and sex and how to improve yourself for men or the nice shoes and bags for fall. Fuck that. What about how to get my life together? How about some fucking reporter explain to me what it means when I feel this intangible sadness so powerful it feels tangible will not pass? Do you know any mags with that kind of information? You keep a lot of magazines in your bathroom. I’m running out of time and I know, jumping around. Back to WH. I did read an article on love and crushes. Don’t judge me. I didn’t say I didn’t read these kinds of pieces, I said I like to stay away. The article listed the reasons you like someone. Closed the book at – you want to be like him.

Of course I didn’t know that was the reason why I avoid his existence. Out of sight out of mind, right? No. I wouldn’t be writing. I need your help. You’re the doctor here. Do shock treatments make you forget heartache? Heartbreak? Bad sex? A sad childhood? Can you keep some stuff in? Like your goals or your siblings? You’re the doctor and my friend. Can you get me out of here? I want the same meds when I leave. And shock treatment. Or shock therapy? What is it called? Does it only happen on TV? All the women in my unit need it. Ah, that was a joke. I like being really quiet when we have social events. Because the ladies here, they’re much sadder than me.

-Truthful

Download more stories From Jump here.

The Uncast Drama.

Brent Black Panama Hat

Recently, I was blessed to be apart of a conversation (in retrospect should’ve been documented for television) with a group of close friends about the views of black men and black women, respectively, and their roles in a relationship together. Some issues that were on the table were black men’s perceptions of black women (visa versa) and its connection to the quality of communication that occurs in a typical African-American relationship, what goes on inside of a black man’s/woman’s mind, and why do black men crave over women outside of their race and culture (visa versa). It was a very inspirational, mind-blowing, and sincere conversation. For many years African-American relationships carry the stigma of failure, and in most cases the omen turns out to be reality. I’m no doctor, but I will make the assessment that this one of the reasons why African-American people are so far behind the rest of the world. The infrastructure of a typical Black family is broken, and there are broken roots to build from. For once I was able to understand some truth about the Black man’s situation as well as express my personal experiences and point of views (from a Black woman’s perception). Overall three things were established: 1. there is a dying need for profound dialogue between the Black man and the Black woman, 2. each member (man and woman) needs to take accountability for their actions/(non)contributions to the African-American society, which have a major influence African-Americans’ perceptions of their own culture, and 3. The only way the black man and woman can find freedom and advancement in their own culture is through a bonafide unconditional relationship (platonic or romantic) with one another. So in honor of that talk, I wrote what is below. As always, I leave room for interpretation. Each one, teach one. This is dedicated to my male friends (who openly expressed the real at our discussion) and to all the African-American men that are completely honest with African-American women; progressively moving forward.