rearview mirror

....my very good friend from college sent me a quick message that made me smile. Shisha and wine on my balcony was one of our favourite past times. If we weren't lounging in my overly colorful studio apartment in Vancouver, you would find us sun bathing at the nearest beach in Kitsilano, with evenings at some hip bar downtown vancouver-if our wallets permitted of course. If not, then back to my apartment watching comedy re-runs and of course our favourite past time, talking. Indulging in the past, relishing in the present with faces alight, and dreaming about a future so uncertain it scared us to shits.

To my darling for sending me the reminder here is my response:

     you remain like a sister to me and although our young bright futures are still unfolding, the memories of knowledge sharing, shoulder to lean on borrowing, fights that challenged our humanities, and laughter that kept us inspired and aglow.....we are still quite bad ass.

fambul dem this is how we do..

.......their eyes were watching god

Instagram Genius

"She had found a jewel down inside herself and she had wanted to walk where people could see her and gleam it around. But she had been set in the market-place to sell. Been set for still bait. When God had made The Man, he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Then after that some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks made them hunt for one another, but the mud is deaf and dumb. Like all the other tumbling mud-balls, Janie had tried to show her shine." - Zora Neale Hurston

......photography for a Feature on Madame Wokie Blog....

CHECK IT HERE.

fambul dem this is how we do

 

SABRE

Photo Credit: Omar Khan

 All of life is intended to beautify the believer.

When he's mistreated he learns patience.

When he's tried, he gets purified.

And when he's blessed, he becomes grateful.

Then when he returns to God,

He returns patience, purified, and grateful.

  - Yasmin Magahed

Photo Credit: Omar Khan

......the past weclomes in the present- APRIL

Recovering from malaria for the third time since been in Sierra-Leone, exhaustion and a pile of frustration, has been anything but easy. As my 25th birthday quickly approaches, i cannot help but feel a sense of accelerated aging. Within, i am still very much a little girl who sees the world in colors with accents of my own made up colors with hues and shades only i have created. I see my hands multiplied and placed within every desired passion and industry, one of immense creativity suspended in utter silence and bliss. I see white, all this with furious throws of light, heart pumping faster but smarter all throughout my being. Despite the pounds of realism, pragmatism, and boughs of inflicted disappointment i've been fed over the last couple of years, i still reject and relegate the 'REAL WORLD'  to shadows in my mind, my heart refuses to hold the scars and so quickly weeds the memories of 'shit' off its flesh. Thus, we remain still open, still wide, still soaking up every inch of the possible, still deeply flirting with the ridiculous commercialized and packaged concept of love and loving. At 25 (almost), one must really know better. My mentor decided that i needed a pep talk today, to summarize our pep talk- he looks at me coldly and says " be smart, have control over your mind and leave your heart to do what your heart does best, that's all my darling. Just love your mind enough to know what's real and what isn't.....," he lets go of the stare smiles and dismisses me from his table...*side glance*

Vancouver-at a dear friends house

 

 

I am looking forward to this month, finally making time to establish my company and the vision that accompanies it, i feel strong. Anything is possible. I am especially grateful to the mentors and lovers the good creator continues to invite into my life, they are epic- epic like the refreshing feeling of splashing clean, clear cold water on one's face. They tell me things that make my inside light up- growing. 

 

Montreal- at the Andy Warhol Exhibition

April, countdown to the day of my birth which is always a huge marker for me, where am i, how am i, how is my being in the now now and where would it like to be in the there there-forth.  however i leave you with some of my flash back kodak moments....and will shortly welcome you into the world i am currently living in and i continue to explore, jump and hoot, love and laugh, cry and moan in the country i was born...

 

Montreal: don't remember where exactly

fambul dem this is how we do...