welcome back to the brown pages. edition iv is here and late af. i have no excuse. this is just my general attitude towards deadlines.
enjoy 'em ya'll. if you finish reading the brown pages feeling a bit better than you started. consider sharing that experience with a friend, a family member. a collaborator.
Switch the Boi Wonder
revolution is not a one-time event. it is becoming always vigilant for the smallest opportunity to make a genuine change in established, outgrown responses.
9.16..17 : thank the lorde (a testimony). shared at Vaudezilla's afer dark.
in spaces were it feels the most inappropriate. where folks come for simple entertainment. interrupt. it seems we've been saying and doing this for generations. trying to make clear the simplest of pleas. as of right now i'm seeking to answer lorde's question: "How are you practicing what you preach-whatever you preach, and who exactly is listening?"
9.26 LOVE LIBERATES
BLACK SEX MATTERS
it was hot. sweaty
beautiful brown smiles
sexy curves and buzzing bass.
asabassco Burlesque @ City Winery | 9.29
this was dope because some folks from black sex matters was in the audience. knowing this made me feel safer. i enjoyed the night with a fantastic cast including Sweetpea!, my fringe factor friends. Lady Jack + Eva La Eva and more.
Reflections on Zami + Sister Outsider
"i am a reflection of my mother's secret poetry as well as of her hidden angers."
-audre lorde | zami
my mom is the first black woman i have ever loved. my best friend. i slept wrapped in my mother's arms until i was 18.
i grew up surrounded by black women's love. my mom had 2 sisters + my grandmother. before my grandmother's death my aunts were thick as thieves. throwing parties. and get togethers to celebrate someone's recent achievement. cakes and thoughtful decorations. my aunts and my mom had formed what seemed like an impentrable bond. there were occasional conflicts. bursts of sharp sentences carrying the force of being buried for years. i was young enough to believe in 'forgive n forget'.
my grandmother died and almost as if all of that love was for the sake of her, my aunts and my mother no longer could find a cause for their bond. living in a small town just minutes away they struggle, the women in our family, to connect beyond their our current and past pain.
reading zami made me miss the days when we would sit in someone's living room. my mom, my aunt jeannie & my aunt lisa, laronda (my cousin who i begged to be my sister), and my grandmother. something would be simmering in the kitchen, while we'd flip through home interior magazines, planning the redecoration of someone's home. there were surprise parties and collected offerings for someone's hardships. full belly laughter and long hugs. cracking jokes.
certain truths change relationships and love indefinitely.
"As Black women we have the right and responsibility to define ourselves and to seek our allies in common cause: with Black men against racism, and with each other and white women against sexism. But most of all, as Black women we have the right and responsibility to recognize each other without fear and to love where we choose. Both lesbian and heterosexual Black women today share a history of bonding and strength to which our sexual identities and our other differences must not blind us."
-audre lorde (scratching the surface | sister outsider)
differences must not blind us says the lorde.
and yet i haven't spoken to my mother in over a month. and that is not to say she hasn't called. or that she doesn't love me to the moon and back (her words). or that i don't love her.
an practiced unconditional love.
in zami i find lorde speaking directly to the thing i fail to articulate.
we are the bearers of our mother's _________.
i'ma call my mom now and do my best to wade through our differences.
seeking a common ground where we both can stand.
fully seen. fully celebrated.
"the rhythms of a litany, the rituals of Black women combing their daughters' hair."
audre lorde | zami
MAKE IT A GREAT ONE!
until next time...
the brown pages are edited by The people's Champion.