creativity

A Summer of Reading – a refusal of productivity

| Sheree

With the warmer weather and the slower pace, I’m so ready to lean into the lazy, easy, light and breezy days of summer.

My six weeks off the clock summer holidays are just around the corner. I can taste the sweet sweet honey of rest. But I’m not quite there yet. Still things to complete, anniversaries to celebrate and forms to send off.

But it’s close. I can smell the cut grass and strawberries and syrup already. The long drawn out of days of doing fuck all. Hell to the yes!

Reading is top of the agenda. Summer self-study of topics and issues that are making me buzz. I’ve already started my crime fiction reading as I get back into the DCI Ryan Mysteries Series from L J Ross, all set in the north east.

And now tonight, with an hour to spare before pick up I dive into We Refuse by Kellie Carter Jackson. This is just what I need coming off the back of completing my black mothering and fugitivity chapter. But it also is adding fuel to my fire of refusal and divesting from racial capitalism.

I’m only a few pages in and my heart is singing and I’m thumping with energy in the recognition of finding my space, my safe place where my desires and wants for freedom on my own terms is not weird or unachievable. But is very much necessary.

#onwards

Where to start …

| Sheree

At the same time as trying to break free, create and embody a life of my own making, on my own terms, I’m still embroiled within this insidious society called white supremacy culture/ racial capitalism.

At the same time as trying to get free, and so spend my time doing what I want to do rather than what I’m expected/supposed to do/be, I waste energy in pulling away which I’d rather spend in pushing forward, pushing on.

At the same time as trying to be free, breathing deeply, resting and dreaming of other possibilities, I’m still meshed into the lives of other people, who are not interested is taking flight or even dropping the protective cloak of scoring victim.

At the same time as I take flight into the unknown, I realise my resolve and reserves have been depleted in the fight, in the pleasing of others, in trying to fit in, in trying to be loved on my own terms.

At the same time as trying to save myself, I know now that I have to let go of my hold of you. The hold on what could have been instead of what is that is crying through my bones and blood’s knowing.

Confronting Fascism

| Sheree

What are you most worried about for the future?

Resistance, Steve McQueen, National Galleries of Scotland, 2025

the undercurrent has always been present, simmering like lava just below the surface ready to rise up at weak points, at moment of disarray and hopelessness. hate shimmers like jewels to those who have little but promised more. clinging to the sharp edges of hate because it’s something to feel, to use as a weapon against others instead of the self. hate with fear, a lethal concoction corroding within as well as without.

1936. October. With a chill in the air, the blackshirts ruffled through the East End of London, snaking their territory, their Ayran rights. With Police fronting, they still couldn’t take the streets. Jews, Irish, Communists, Blacks, Labour activists, workers unite. Stand firm. Shoulder to shoulder, they shall not pass. Blackshirts, angry scrunched up faces, hearts riddled with hate and fear, shall not pass.