As I mentioned earlier in the month, reading and writing/ writing and reading go hand in hand. As I’ve tasked myself with a poem a day this month, I’ve also tasked myself with reading poetry and wider as it all feeds into the creative process.
Dal Kular, a dear friend and awesome imagineer, brought Foluke Taylor and their writings to my attention. I’ve been taken by Foluke’s writing around creativity and repetition so when Dal mentioned the book, Unruly Therapeutic, I knew I had to pick this book up and read it. And I’m so glad I have done just that ( well still reading it in fact!).
This is a hybrid, break down the structures kind of book in terms of how it’s written but also how it centres the Black woman’s experience. It’s music to my ears on so many levels. More so in being real, and allowing the thoughts and concepts presented to meander. To double back and repeat. There’s even a music playlist at the end go each chapter as an indication of what Foluke was listening to while the book was under construction.
I’ll return here with a review of length, but for now I just wanted to mark the reading of this text and a recommendation to get out and buy your own copy, as I’m not lending mine out!
Words: adapted from ‘Conjuring Hands: The Art of Curious Women of Color’, by gloria j. wilson, Joni Body Acuff and Venessa Lopez
we crave joy. unmediated, defined by self, not by others.
for me, joy is intertwined with the idea of ‘safety’.
for me safety means not only protection from White hands that hold sticks, stones, batons, and guns.
but also safety from White minds and from White eyes.
in the past, in attempts at safety, i have resorted to running, literally and figuratively.
i fold in on myself to avoid harmful interactions. to keep myself safe.
i’m no longer prepared to relegate myself to the corner of the room. i go to the waters seeking guidance from the ancestors, seeking safety, seeking joy.
I got the sea, after an intense and beautiful anti-racism facilitation session with the National Trust.
At some point, I’ll unpack this experience. I just know I make a promise to myself before this last session to save something back for myself.
I give and give. I have a tendency to give in the hope to be received and receive. I give as I believe I’m here to be of service.
It is only recently that I feel that in order to keep on being of and in service, I have to give to myself, first and foremost.
So I go to the sea after this anti-racism book group session, keeping a promise to myself.
I go to the sea to heal.
To be cleansed. To be released. I save just enough energy to get me to the sea. To strip down and take the short sharp steps into the waters.
This afternoon, the sea is full to the brim.
Just like my heart after the intense and beautiful final session with the National Trust around being a good ally in a society becoming more anti-racist.
“Sometimes it can be the fear of writers block that keeps us from writing. We believe we don’t have the words. We get stuck. My one word answer; repetition. I learned the value of repetition through being a parent. Mothering is deep study in practices of repetition. Doing and saying the same things over and over again. Recently I listened to Black feminist and performance memoirist Gabrielle Civil2 speak on repetition. She offered a spiritual as an example;
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child sometimes I feel like a motherless child sometimes I feel like a motherless child a long long way from home
What being a mother taught me is that the repetition is not for nothing. And the point that Gabrielle Civil makes is that it is not, in fact exactly the same thing over and over again, but subtly different each time. It is building. It is, she says, accumulating to get you to something new.” Taken fromCreatique, Foluke Taylor.
Every year for the past 5 I’d say I’d spend time at the end of/beginning of the year to create a vision board of intentions and dreams.
I say this, for the past 5 years, except the last one. 2022 was the year I never set out my intentions, my dreams. I missed the window of magic, I felt, and just couldn’t muster the mojo to set things down.
I missed this road map, this visioning throughout the year. There were times during 2022, that I was questioning what I was doing and where I was going. But I realise now that I needed that low, down energy to heal and recover after the last two years of Covid. And it’s not over even now, but I know I have better coping and managing skills today.
So thinking about 2022, and my lack of motivation and direction, I knew when 2023 came around, my vision board practice was coming back. Not to get all productive on my arse but because I love to have this beauty pinned to my bedroom wall at the bottom of my bed and see it every day.
Vision Board, 2023
Having my vision board in plain sight, everyday, the first thing I see in the morn and the last thing at night, is a gift and blessing. I get to see and feel what I want to manifest within the present moment, each day. It’s not a bind in anyways, but it is a reminder and commitment to myself to love. Myself and others.
It brings me joy to see my vision board because it is a thing of beauty. I know everything on it has been placed with intention and love for self. With joy. And it’s not used as a to-do list of productivity and perfection. It is a beacon or siren to make sure I’m {being} in my life how my soul wants to be showing up in life for me first and foremost.
Vision Board, 2023
That’s why I call it a quiet Revolution. I’m revolting against the system, this White Supremacy Culture, from the inside out. I’m rejecting all those beliefs and practices and ways of being that have been implanted within me since being born into a system which indoctrinates us into being machines to the system. Where we repress our true selves to fit in and be accepted. Where we do not question or reject the system but uphold it and perpetuate it through our actions and attitudes towards others and ourselves.
Vision Board, 2023
So here I am sharing my vision board of 2023. Not as a ‘look at me, aren’t I clever’ kind of vibe. But to inspire. I’m always about sharing my practice to inspire. Last year I gave up early, without creating a vision board. Along with using excuse and excuse afterwards for not trying to create one.
I share with you mine so you might feel inspired to create one or not even a physical one but a space in your heart and mind for your intentions and dreams and ways of being. It’s never too late is my motto. Something I could have used last year, but some how couldn’t muster the energy to. But I think this might have been a demonstration of my lack of commitment to myself and my dreams last year and being content enough to just get by. I know I needed this time of rest in place to move onto 2023 with renewed energy and a massive intention to heal.
Swings and roundabouts. I just know everything sits better with me when I know I’m on a mission to heal from the inside out through this quiet revolution of a slow, listening, restful practice.
Living Wild Studios 
