black women

The Design of a Summer Field Guide

| Sheree

The aim is to create a field guide for summer which prioritises play, curiosity and wonder. Dreaming and imagination.

I want to be intentional around who I want to {BE}/ want to do over the next few summery months.

Become consistent in relation to turning up for myself in play and wonder.

Now is the time to prioritise my joy. No responsibilities but feed my inner child.

Traditionally, a field guide is something created to provide information for a reader to identify birds, flowers or trees. Or other aspects of the natural environment.

With this energy in mind, I want to create a summer field guide that identifies areas of play and curiosity that I can explore.

This field guide is an invitation to lean into what lights me up, steeping myself in the mystery and magic of it all.

Summer Field Guide

| Sheree

I want to be in a summery frame of mind.

No worries.

No stress.

No demands.

Just ease.

Remembering the summer holidays from school as a child – endless and carefree.

I’ve started with colouring in.

As a child I’d create my own shapes and pieces to colour in just for the fun of it.

I love me some colour.

Going back to old skool

| Sheree

Sometimes when I get a download, I just have to grab the first bit of paper and pen I can see and write.

It feels as if I haven’t got the time and patience for my visual journaling practice and I’ve just got to get the words on the page.

Like short, sharp, frenzied sex after a drought, a stream of consciousness shit comes rolling out of me. From my body. Onto the page. Words here. Paint there.

And within this pile of words/ marks are glimmers, signs, clues for next steps, moves forward. Invitations.

I’m been resting, after a full on time of exams and work and in that resting time, I did nothing creative except breathe. Breathe a little deeper and longer. Fuller.

There are still times when I have that moment of dread, that I’ve forgotten something. That I should be doing something else instead of doing nothing.

I know time will heal the wound. Time will suture the skin over the rupture and this period will become a memory. A trace left in an ache running down my neck and shoulder. A dull tugging at my soul.

Anyway, I’m back here. And I’m not going to try and fill in the gaps. The gaps are important, these liminal spaces where possibility and potential are ripe.

I come back with plans to share a new series of posts which I’m loosely calling my ‘Summer Field Guide’. My plan to get intentional about the summer ahead ( or here already!) and offer myself space to play, get curious, dream and imagine. No pressure just {BEING} my inner child out loud.

I’m excited.

Three Sisters Brighton Beach

| Sheree

On the early morning of 13 May, a call went out that someone was in difficulty in the sea off Brighton Beach. When the rescue team got to the beach, the bodies of three women were found.

I’ll be honest. At first, I thought this was a tragedy involving (white) women with the use of the word ‘women’ and with the media coverage this disaster was receiving reinforced this assumption.

Later these women were identified as three sisters. Three black women, Jane Adetoro, and Christina Walter and Rebecca Walter.

What a heartbreaking tragedy to happen within one family. My heart and deepest sympathy goes out to their family and friends.

In a heartbreaking tribute, their father Joseph said: “No words can truly describe the pain of losing three daughters in the prime of their lives. Jane, Christina, and Becky were more than daughters to me; they were my joy, my strength, and the beautiful light that filled our family with happiness and love.”

Sussex Police are investigating this tragedy and believe at this stage that there are no suspicious circumstances or criminal intent in connection to these deaths.

I don’t know how they can come to such findings so early in their investigations. And should keep an open mind. The only consolation is that the police and media are actively investigating and reporting the death of these three black women as far too often, as I’ve shared recently, the disappearance, murder and deaths of black women in suspicious circumstances is ignored, neglected and dismissed.

I hope the mysterious and tragic deaths of these women is soon to be investigated and explained for the sake of their families as this is such a sad sad case of affairs.

The Plot of Our Repair

| Sheree

I had the pleasure of gathering with the WOC Azadi again in Sheffield today.

We gathered to share ideas around how to plot/plotting our healings, our liberation together.

Visual journaling was on hand to capture our thoughts, feelings, plans and plots.

It was such a nurturing and nourishing space in nature. It was a gathering of hope and aspirations.

It was an honour to be part of the day retreat. Ideas for The Plot of Our Repair came about from a reading is Saidiya Hartman’s essay , The Plot of her Undoing (2020).

The plot of her undoing begins with his dominion. It begins in the fifteenth century with a papal bull, with a philosopher at his desk, pen in hand, as he sorts the world into categories of genus and species. It begins with a bill of sale, with a story in the newspaper that enumerates her crimes, with a note appended to the file: she answers questions easily, but appears stupid; it begins with a wanted poster that reduces the history of her life to a single word-condemned.

And then towards the end of this essay there is a switch. A turn to explore how we can undoing the plot of her undoing. How we can move against the forces aiming to ruin/ control/ oppress the black/brown woman.

The undoing of the plot proceeds by stealth. It is almost never recognized as anything at all and certainly never as significant.

…

It begins with the earth under her feet. It begins with all of them gathered at the river and ready to strike, with all of them assembled in the squatter city, with all of them getting ready to be free in the clearing.

The undoing of the plot begins with her runaway tongue, with her outstretched hands, with songs shared across the unfree territory and the occupied lands, with the pledges of love that propel struggle, with the vision that this bitter earth may not be what it seems.

The undoing of the plot, the plot developing towards our repair was started before us. We stand on the shoulders of our ancestors. We continue this journey, this plotting together. Today makes me feel that we have already won.