where does your energy go?

i ain’t smiling

i’m protecting my peace so i have the energy for me, to {BE} in service for we, the we that looks/{BE} like me

this is all becoming clearer now

i’m not expending or wasting any more time, energy, attention on those (white) people who do not see me. or when they do see me, they do not see me as human

as Akwugo Emejulu says, the black woman can never be a human being

for decades i’ve spent time, energy, attention, through my practice and day to day life, trying to convince others ( white people) of my humanity. i would bend over backwards trying to get accepted, recognised, cherished as a fellow human being

look, please, i’m human. look, please, i feel, i hurt, i bleed. i breathe

no more. i am no longer prepared to play that role. dance this stupid dance. as i will never be accepted, recognised, loved as a human being. the system won’t allow it. (white) people won’t allow it

i’m no longer wasting my energy on proving jackshit

i’m refusing what has already been refused of me ( fugitivity)

i knowing who i be. i am smart, i am kind, i am important ( The Help). and i don’t need/want/entertain any (white) person to tell/grant/recognise me as such

and i’m no longer apologising/ playing it down or safe/ tempering for how i feel/act/ {BE} about this situation

as that just expends/takes/sucks out of me a whole heap and of other energy

i ain’t smiling.

Back with Kiwi

My morning spread

As the wind rocks us, and the rain soothes us, Kiwi and I enjoy a little excursion.

Hardly little when we drove from our home to Portsmouth and then to Lymington to catch the ferry to the Isle of Wight.

I came here once before with my mum when I was in middle school I think. Or maybe high school. We brought my friend Judith too.

We stayed in a B & B and went to the beach everyday. It was gorgeous. Now looking back, it seems weird going away on holiday with a school friend. But that’s what we’d do back then.

I say weird, but here I am away with my Uni friend Alex and his partner. So go figure.

It’s forecast wind for the weekend and showers. So let’s see how it goes. I’m not complaining because I’m mighty cosy inside Kiwi.

I’m slowing all the way down. Appreciating the time and space, dropping out of time and space for a little while. I’m taking to {BEING} this more and more these days. Figuring out that rest, slow and {BEING} on my own terms is all I ever want in this life.

And I’m not going to given this. I have to take it.

Protecting my peace

i ain’t smiling

I’ve been in a battle with myself.

The lessons I try and pass on to my kids are not to allow anyone else to change you. You go about your business as yourself. Don’t change for nobody.

I’ve been in a battle with myself.

I know my nature. I smile a lot. I lean into the joy of life because I’ve always said life is too short after being touched by death so young ( I now think life is long but that’s another conversation).

I’ve been in a battle with myself.

I’ve noticed I’m walking out now and not smiling. To myself or others. My face is fixed in a neutral stare, going about my business. I don’t not need/ want to look, speak or touch anyone else.

I’ve been in a battle with myself.

Is it my nature to smile and make contact with other (white) people because that’s who I am? Or do I do it to make them feel comfortable and not to think I’m a threat to their safety? Do I smile because I’m happy? Or do I smile to keep others happy?

I’ve been in a battle with myself.

Through speaking with a ( black female) friend recently things have become clearer and more resolute.

i ain’t smiling.

Not smiling, gazing or connection with (white) people while out walking/ coffee drinking/ shopping/whatever, is me, protecting my peace.

the season of self-study

“Reading across our curiosities, the story and imagination are testimonies grounded in the material expression of black life”

Excerpt From
Dear Science and Other Stories
Katherine McKittrick

I’m a multi-passionate Creatrix ( I don’t use artist because it’s a term historically linked to imperialism and colonialism and we need to unlearn that shit!).

Reading feeds these passions. I can get myself lost up in a book or trip on many different subjects/ disciplines .

Today I was reading a crime novel, then a self-help book around self-sabotage, a healing and grief article, a Substack newsletter on erotic engineering, permaculture design, a Black feminist thought anthology, and instructions on a tube of Polyfilla!

I’ve always been curious. I got beats as a child for asking questions. For asking why?

For me fugitivity flourishes in and with having the time and space to lean into my multi-passions without anybody else telling me to stop, or move along or get back to ‘work’.

During my favourite season of the year, I’m leaning into my reading. I’m devising my own reading list of self-study around getting free.

I’m reading across disciplines and I’m reading into black studies and black livingness. I realised today, while, reading Katherine McKittrick, what I’m doing and have been doing is searching for and following the breadcrumbs that are shared through the writings and practices of black scholars, creatives and beings that have at their centre/ purpose/ inspiration black freedom.