creativity

Antiracism is Anticapitalism -002

| Sheree

Last week and the week before was a deep dive into the far right rising within the UK. The raising the colours from one neighbourhood to another. The flags to stroke unity and patriotism is the hearts of every British subject. Right? Bullshit.

I know it’s not either/or thinking. I know it’s and/both. But having a conversation with these people is not possible. Listening doesn’t take place because those who hold far right tendencies see a black or brown face and instantly think inferior, immigrant, illegal. No right to be here. No rights at all as not really human. You can’t listen to something you don’t see.

Anyway, I was doing all this research into ‘raise the colours’ for my annual trip into Sunderland University for my lectures around antiracism.

I change them every year in line with my own learning and development in becoming antiracist. And really antiracism is anticapitalism. Has to be . But the different antiracism forums or organisations or groups operating at the moment that I’ve been part of haven’t received this memo. Their still operating under the guise that we need to come together as allies and educate people around privilege and fragility and be kinder to each other. Bullshit.

In the words of Fred Moten,

“I don’t need your help. I just need you to recognise that this shit is killing you, too, however much more softly, you stupid motherfucker, you know?”

So I’ve decided to release my 5 years of antiracism lectures I’ve prepared for Sunderland University over on my patreon account over the next month or so, as a sharing of knowledge and learning. Please consider checking it out. It should be free to access but sometimes these sites put in shit you don’t realise all in the name of progress. Bullshit. More like profit. Capitalism again.

But yeah should be free but if you fancy buying me a coffee, hit that button!

To the sea she goes

| Sheree

Spur of the moment dip. Good job I’m always prepared like a good Brownie. Kit always in the boot of the car. No neoprene gloves or boots just a swimsuit and bobbled hat. Looking good.

Feeling good!

these are a few of my favourite things …

| Sheree

I’ve missed a few days here.

I don’t know if I expressed it openly but I’ve been trying to post every day here in honour of a practice from years ago of being creative every day.

This last week, home alone and probably depressed, I’ve been beating myself up for not doing more. More out in society as well as within my own practice. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions and I’ve not been kind towards myself.

Coming out the other end though I can see that I’ve been doing what I’ve needed. Rest yes but also quiet, small magic.

I’ve been collecting brown paper from packages. I thought I’d use them within the creative retreats I facilitated this year but it didn’t happen. So I have a very large pile and what I love about the brown paper apart from the sound and texture is the un/uniformativity of it.

These papers are teared to fuck. Fragile and worn and rough. And I love feeling them. So this week, I might not have been posting here but my sitting room became a factory conveyer belt as brown paper got the credit card treatment of smeared paints. Acrylic paints that I’m using up that I love the mixtures of, that gets under my nails and onto the carpet. And I love it. One side wait to dry and then the next and then let’s fold and put these single sheets together to make a whole

This practice has made me whole again this week. I’ve been writing within this new journal this past couple of days and I feel so good to be doing so. Better.

I’m grateful to wake up each morning and {BE}. I’m grateful that I’m no longer chasing recognition and the big bucks. I’m grateful that I don’t give a fuck about being perfect and always having to smile.

I’m grateful for the community I have around me. Cultivated over years. They care for me and I care for them.

I’m grateful to myself for never giving up on me and for always having my back even when it feels I’m falling apart. Falling apart but big hands to put me back together again, but better.