fugitive

back on Patreon

| Sheree

I’m back into Patreon. I need to have another notebook, a place to joint downs ideas, mull over readings as I dive deeper into fugitivity with a personal curriculum around black study.

What does this mean? Well it means I’ve going back to my roots in more ways than one. Read W.E.B Dubois, Frantz Fanon, Sylvia Winter etc . Those who are named as the foundations of black study. Who rendered our stories and drew inspiration from Africa and the Caribbean. Those who looked beyond Western disciplines and knowledges to explore black livingness.

Anyway, I need to continue to feed my own disruption from white supremacy culture/ racial capitalism. I need to keep the flames alive of believing and practicing other ways of {BEING} as it hard trying to make a way out of nowhere in the edges. It’s hard.

Check out Patreon here.

Daily walk/008

| Sheree

Unto the deep, the deepness of calling

stepping out as a battered sojourner,

into the beauty and stillness of autumn,

strength comes from struggle and speaking the uncomfortable.

Anger but also grace in the refusal.

I refuse to allow you to suck me dry and believe you’re doing me a favour

| Sheree

I’m trying here. Really trying to look after myself. To rest when I need to. To eat well. To move my body. To protect my mind, body and soul. To make a way out of nothing. Protect my energy. From what I hear you say?

Vampires. Blood fucking sucking vampires. I’m not referring to the Count here. I’m referring to those people who treat others like a puppet or pawn ( insert whiteness/ white people here).

All paternalistic, thinking they’re doing me some kind of favour when they take my ideas and run with them and then come back to me ( that is if they do) and present some kind of gig/job/role for me to carry out sometimes for free( sometimes for a fee) and think/expect/assume that I’m okay with this. That I’d jump at the chance of doing this shit for them on their own terms with them assuming all the control and power when I’ve been doing this shit by myself for others for as long as time, without shit from them.

Exploitation. Extraction. White supremacy culture comes to mind. Comes to heart here.

No discussion. No seeking permission. No asking if this is okay. Nothing.

Except the conceited, privileged, racist assumptions/ take over that this is something I would do and not refuse to do because … that I need them? Or that I need the money or the exposure? That this is the only way to do it? Or what?

I don’t know because they didn’t see fit to talk to me about it.

So many things are wrong about this situation. The whole concept. The timeframes. The costings. The language used to describe my people. My community.

Not to even mention that they spelt my name wrong throughout the whole fucking ‘proposal’.

I don’t think they know who they are dealing with. I don’t think they really know who I am or have been listening to me all along. Really listening to me and understanding who I am and where I’m coming from.

There’s blood in the water.

The sun has broken through the dark.

Vampires are not feasting on my fucking soul anymore.

I sold my soul once before and it didn’t turn out well for me.

With soul and dignity and integrity intact I’m not about to surrender them again for jackshit. For someone who does not hear/ value/ see me.

I refuse.

Jog on!

where does your energy go?

| Sheree
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.

the season of self-study

| Sheree

“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.

My morning pages read …

| Sheree

Good morning. I like being alone. I’m not lonely either. All the signs in society are saying I should be with someone. A man as that would make me complete but that just isn’t the case. It’s a trap. It’s patriarchy and it slowly kills us. Black women faster than white women. And I see it now. It’s an institution of control and power . And it’s passed off as the natural state of affairs. But really in nature it’s multiples, it’s community, it’s ecosystems.

That is what I’m taking away from BWCR ( Black women’s creative retreat) establishing my community, my ecosystem.

Black woman is always the original, the origins. And it’s about time we get/ no take our due as when we take we give. We share, we multiple, we make a path.

Still healing

| Sheree

Woman got herself dry socket. Exposed bone and nerves after a tooth extraction happens when the blood clot for Porte took doesn’t form properly or get dislodged.

It’s painful and can lead to infection. Guess I’m one of the lucky ones. As mine is infected.

I thought the pain and bad taste and breath were part of the healing process. No pain no gain right?! Seems this level of pain and the foulness is a sign of dry socket and infection. Go figure.

Thank goodness for saltwater washes, walking and self-care. Looking out for myself has become a priority in a world that just doesn’t care.

what’s happenin’ is wisdom

| Sheree

It’s a week since I’ve been here nearly. I’m not going to try and backtrack and fill in the gaps. Let them lie, because I’ve been healing. And today I’m beginning to feel more like myself again. This is my first image in a week. I ventured out not far from my front door into the sunshine, into my local park. It was glorious to get out as well as to feel a load or two dropping from my shoulders. I didn’t realise what stress and worries I’ve been carrying for the part month or so until they were let go.

More recent was an emergency extraction of a cracked wisdom tooth. Tooth hardly there at the back of my gum, but cracked on some food, cracked all the way down. I was advised to get it extracted. A simple procedure. Done in half an hour or so. Let’s just numb up the area. Little did the dentist know that my teeth are strong or that this little fucker was fused to the bone. An hour later or more and I stumble out of the chair into the growing dusk and I’ve got a gaping hole in my gum, held together by 4 stitches.

Fast forward to today, and me out walking in the sunshine and not allowing my self-pity to get the better of me. I look like a chipmunk and talk as if I’m drunk. But it could have been worse right. I daren’t think what would have happened if I’d left the cracked tooth and gotten an infection, not just teeth, gums but down to the bone. The dentist said I’m lucky. I said no I’m not. I’m intentional I said. Health is wealth, and I’m not going to mess around with mine, I said. The dentist said, he respects that. He said he liked my energy and made his evening, going in with my emergency. Made the time fly by.

Glad to be of service. Aren’t I always glad to be of service? Doesn’t a lot of people feed off my energy. Don’t I just bring my ‘A’ game for a lot of people. This Summer, I’m turning up for me. I’m giving myself the time and space to heal and breathe. My energy is low for other people, as I want it to be high for me.

I’m a shining light that creates space for other people’s lights to shine. I make people feel at ease and comfortable at the same time as inspired and tuned into themselves. I create space for people to air their cares and worries. For them to find a way back to themselves. And I don’t even get paid for this. This is just who I be. And I’m not complaining. I’m not having a ‘woe is me’ moment either. I’m just stating facts.

Fact is, this wisdom tooth brings wisdom. This wisdom tooth gone but left a wound, a wound I need to heal. A wound that needs time and care and space to heal. And I’m here to give it to myself as no one else will. Don’t worry I’ll still be turning up here as this is my space. I’ve not been bought by any corporation. I’m sharing my art not a commercial. I’m not selling you anything or getting paid. I’m free. I’m just sharing this little light of mine and my heart.