My bedtime lover(s)

A book is much more faithful than a lover I think.

A book can open you up to so many different experiences at the same time as reaffirming everything you’ve been feeling and thinking and struggling with.

I’m not sure a lover can do all that for me. But many more than one lover could?

Hence spending copious amounts of time in bed with books.

Reclaiming the Black Body: Nourishing the Home Within by Alisha McCullough is one of my current reads.

I used to be of the persuasion to read one book at a time. Devote all my time, focus and attention to one book in order to reap the glory/ knowledge/ whatever!

But these past few years, as I’ve become thirsty for stimulation and attempting to find like-minded people/ theories/ lovers, I’m moved into reading multiple books simultaneously, also known as “syntopical reading”.

And these books are not on the same topic either. They range from poetry around grief, non-fiction on gardening, personal essays around deep time, romantic and crime novels and short stories about myths and history. The list goes on!

I’m so enjoying this eclectic and multiple reading practice as it’s keeping me engaged, creating unique and original connections and it’s keeping me feeling loved.

By me.

So one of my current squeezes is Reclaiming the Black Body and I’m devouring it in small digestible bites because it is speaking to my soul.

This book is calling to attention the deep-seated, long-time, disproportionate amount of trauma, violence, marginalisation, discrimination, and adverse childhood experiences of Black women and femmes, and confounded by misognoir and racism, how we have learned to cope with it all through increased imbalanced eating behaviours.

Usually called “eating disorders” but even using that language implies that the individual is to blame and implying that some of us are just not equipped to nourish our bodies and do not know how to look after ourselves.

‘Disorder’ implies stigma and comes from the Western health ‘care’ system which from time has excluded and harmed Black people.

So this book is a balm for the wounds of silent struggles Black women and femmes have been going through around eating imbalances including myself. And is a vindication that we’re not fucked up and broken and just beasts, being less than human but that we are doing our best with the tools that we have to strive and thrive within a system that is hell-bent, historically and now, to demonise the Black body.

I will continue to cosy up with this book and others in bed, night and day, as reading is hitting the spot!

The Black Feminist Reader

I’ve got time on my hands to read. A reading week as we used to say at Uni. Why? Well that’s another story, I’ll tell you at another time, maybe.

For now, I’m getting my teeth into something that will make me feel better, or feel as if I’m getting somewhere with my self-study/permaculture diploma design/ ways of being.

I’m reading The Black Feminist Reader edited by Joy James and T. Denean Sharpley-Whiting. And I’m heartened to read in the first essay in the collection by Barbara Christian, ‘The Race for Theory’, that along with her Black sisters, Christian has not rushed to create abstract theories around how to read Black women writers/ Black women’s literature. The argument goes that there are countless Black women around the world, women colour around the world, and one single set of ideas cannot be applied to such diversity.

As Christian goes on to argue, “There is, therefore, a caution we feel about pronouncing black feminist theory that might be seen as a decisive statement about third world women. This is not to say we are not theorizing. Certainly our literature is an indication of the ways in which our theorizing, of necessity, is based on our multiplicity of experiences.” ( p.20)

Instead of being seduced into the academy, being at the centre, desiring/ claiming what might seem like power within the hierarchy of old traditional departments of knowledge, where the Black female experience is subordinate to others, ” We can pursue ourselves as subjects”. ( p.21)

This is music to my ears as I have always found it difficult to pin down what is Black Feminist Theory. What does it entail? What are the tools of engagement? What methods should be employed to reading Black women writers?

But that’s where I’ve been going wrong, thinking about theory. As for me theory was legitimisation. Writing dies if it’s not being talking about, theorised. But now I understand that :

  1. Theory has been their way, their terms, their approaches ( p. 16)
  2. Theory has been more about how clever the theorist is than about the writing or writer
  3. Theory is prescriptive and it ought to have something to do with practice (p.13)
  4. Theory is about those masters who have long gone and not about the here and now.

And as Christian states, and I totally agree, “But what I write and how I write is done in order to save my own life. And for me I mean that literally. For me literature is a way of knowing that I am not hallucinating, that whatever I feel/ know is.”(p. 21)

So I’m following Christian in my pursuit of what Black Feminism(s) is by having no fixed method of enquiry or even results. My method relates to what I read and the historical context of the writers I read and “to the many critical activities in which I am engaged, which may or not involve writing.” ( p.22)

So there is no set method within Black Feminist Theory and is influenced by practice, no prerequisite of a new theory as every work suggests a new approach, forcing me to think differently.

“As risky as that might seem, it is, I believe, what intelligent means – a tuned sensitivity to that which is alive and therefore cannot be known until it is known.”( p. 22)

Comfort Reading

This piece was published over in Binderful’s Medium page back in 2020. I’m republishing them here as I revisiting the writing, the wisdom as well as create my archives.

What are you reading that is bringing you comfort during this pandemic?

When Amy (Mama Scout) asked me about what I’m reading during these troubling times of the pandemic, my first thought was, what am I NOT reading? As the spaciousness within my life has opened up, I’m grateful to be able to slow down and lose myself in practices that feed my soul.

I read the news, maybe once every two days, to keep abreast of developments around the world. I’ve always read world news, as I might live in the UK, an island, but I believe we’re all connected, humans and non-humans. What’s happening to you, is happening to me also. We are one. I love lingering over longer articles and reports in The Guardian, The New Yorker and The Atlantic. Also Orion Magazine is releasing daily previously unreleased articles from it’s archives to read for free. These are a welcomed gift.

My guilty pleasure is crime fiction. After a lifetime of reading about crimes happening around the world, I love Nordic Noir, I’ve recently gotten into the mystery series with DCI Ryan set on my doorstep in the Northeast of England by L J Ross. Taking iconic buildings and monuments within the region, such as Cragside House, the Sycamore Gap tree, the bridges over the River Tyne, as the settings, a series of murders are carried out and a team of detectives, who the reader grows to love, try to solve them while trying to have normal loving relationships themselves. I love recognising places and streets and people even within the pages of these novels.

My weak spot is personal essays. Probably because I’m in the process of creating a mixed-genre memoir which includes personal essays, poetry, images, collage, quotes and photography, I gravitate to those writers I wish I could write like such as Roxane Gay, Audre Lorde and Terry Tempest Williams.

So at the moment, I’m reading Alexandra Chee, How To Write An Autobiographical Novel which is so illuminating about his time growing up, in the 80s, through identity politics and navigating his way while unbelonging. I’ve just started, Thick, a collection of essays by Tressie McMillan Cottom, which have the black woman’s body at the centre of the debate for a change. A mixture between the personal and the academic, I find myself reading sections and nodding my head or even shouting out loud, ‘Yes.’

And finally, to my shame, I’ve just restarted Becoming, by Michelle Obama, after watching the documentary on Netflix. When the memoir first came out a couple of years ago, I started it but I didn’t get far. They say you fall into a book when it’s the right time for you; when you’re ready. Well I’m ready now. I’m absorbing Michelle’s vulnerable words of wisdom, checking in and checking myself. Reasons for reading; to keep checking in with myself, how I’m feeling, what is what I’m reading bringing up in me. At the same time as checking myself, doing the work on myself, to make sure I’m moving through this world as the best version of me.

Go Back, Go Home

Go back and take care of yourself. Your body needs you, your feelings need you, your perceptions need you. Your suffering needs you to acknowledge it. Go home and be there for all these things.

Thich Nhat Hanh

Drinking Fugitivity – Found PoetryFilm

Drinking Fugitivity: Found PoetryFilm

This short piece is a mash up of a certain clip from Joaquina de Angola: Memory of a Liberation by Aida Bueno Sarduy and music from Insight Timer, called You.

Seen recently in Barcelona at CCCB, Joaquina de Angola: Memory of a Liberation by Aida Bueno Sarduy is an audiovisual installation that recovers the story of Joaquina, a young woman enslaved on a plantation in Brazil, and her escape.

From the exhibition’s text details it reads:

“A work about archived, forgotten, and silenced voices in the history of slavery and colonialism.
This audiovisual installation brings to life the act of “unarchiving” an event recorded in colonial history as an escape. A 15-year-old enslaved girl fled the plantation where she lived, and her owner, after an unsuccessful search, placed an ad in the newspaper offering a reward to whoever found her. The archive reveals nothing more about this incident: it merely collects it as a piece of data.
This piece challenges the oblivion, archiving, and silencing of this character. To unarchive, in this context, becomes an artistic and political act that brings Joaquina de Angola out of the shadows of the document, removing her gag and chains so that she can tell her own story. This act not only questions the record but also raises questions and delves into its details. It is an inquiry that brings Joaquina back to life and acknowledges her as a cimarrona, calling upon ancestral memory as well as imagination, intuition, and spirituality.
Since the beginning of colonization in Brazil, alliances and exchanges of extraordinary significance have taken place between Indigenous peoples and enslaved Africans, but these have also been silenced. The presence of entities known as caboclos (Indigenous spirits) in all Afro-Brazilian religions is perhaps the most consistent and profound evidence of this. Amazonian peoples, Indigenous peoples from across Brazil, and quilombola communities—formed by Afro-descendant peoples—have shared ancestral struggles for the defense of their territories and against colonization and exploitation. The installation speculates on these possible Afro-Indigenous alliances in Joaquina de Angola’s journey toward freedom.”

This extracted masheup with music created above by myself, hence a found poetry film, is my take at a beginning of exploring fugitivity. I’ve been living, breathing, talking, practicing fugitivity for a few years now. I’ve mentioned it before, and it was Dal Kular who first introduced the term of me via her then newsletter, Field Notes. Dal said at the beginning of Jan 2023,

“Whatever the out-there-in-the-world fuckery is going on in 2023, I declare myself a CREATIVE FUGITIVE. A way of living in this world but not of it.”

Her take on creative fugitivity has stuck with me. I’ve gone on to read more around fugitivity. I’m even writing a chapter, at the moment, around black mothering and fugitivity. Fugitivity is taking over my life. And again I’m creating a project here in my portfolio to collect my wanderings and wonderings around this concept and way of being.

For me in a nutshell, fugitivity is the act of flight. It is the withdrawing of my labour and consent in the current system of white supremacy culture, capitalism, imperialism, colonialism. Fugivitiy is refusal and resistance. Divesting from the current way things are playing out as the few hoard the wealth of the world at the expense of the many.

Originally the fugitive was the runaway, the escapee. Hence why the audio-visual installation and consequent fugitive poetry film was created. I’m starting from the origins of the escaping enslaved. Running, fleeing captivity towards freedom. Freedom being the end point, the destination but in the process of escaping, there is the in-between space between what they were fleeing from and fleeing to. And here in this liminal space is where fugitivity is ripe.

There/ here is the lingering in the midst of flight, where I choose to SLOW down and be. To linger with nature. To seek my joy and pleasure in the world around me on my own terms.
Fred Moten in conversation with Saidiya Hartman, both of whom we will be exploring further, said,

“I often use – and I always think of it in relation to Fannie Lou Hamer, because it’s just me giving a theoretical spin on a formulation she made in practice: to refuse that which has been refused to you. And that’s what I’m interested in.”

That is fugitivity as a method, kin-making and place-making, as a practice that I intend to explore within this project archive.

EMbracing the Gothic

St. Patrick’s Cathedral
St. Patrick’s Cathedral

A few days in the Emerald Isle, staying in Dublin. Walking my little legs off and soaking up the culture and Guinness ( with a dash of blackcurrant).

Here is St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Probably the first building to get my heart a pumping. And I’m thinking gothic. I’m going back to my GCSE studies and Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. And it just really thrilled me. It touched my romantic horror capabilities. The terrible beauty of this world.

It’s a striking Cathedral, made from limestone and is constructed in a gothic style. I recognised its mystery and gloom and yet a feeling of light too. An 800 year old building probably constructed in an ancient well used by St. Patrick himself.

It’s such a beautiful construction as well as having a moody kind of vibe of pointy arches and buttresses and heavy weathered stone. I was just as in my element as I walked the streets of Dublin. And just as the limestone, is greying and dark, but still a hint of lightness, so was the city itself: full of heart with an underbelly of poverty and suffering. A terrible beauty.

On A Reading Tip

Quantity over quality is a characteristic of whet supremacy culture. Say like with social media, we are wired to focus on the numbers. The number and amount of followers, likes, comments gives us the buzz. Keeps us returning usually. Rather than the quality of interactions. The quality of connections.

But in this instant when I say I’m on a reading tip and boast that I’ve read 12 books already this year, fiction, poetry and non-fiction, I’m taking the buzz of the numbers because I know they were quality reads.

Last year saw me fall off my reading horse. Reading was only happening when I had an extended amounts of time off the clock. Summer reading mostly. I didn’t have the bandwidth or desire to read at any other times. I was too antsy and not able to settle, as too many demands were pulling on my attention.

So I’m really happy that this hibernation season has seen me dive back into books. Physical and digital books. I do not care which as long as I’m reading, expanding my thinking and formulating new pathways of understanding and connection.

So White Tears Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad was completed yesterday. And it so feeds into my experiences with white women. Even though they’ve caused offence, been racist that is, it’s me who’s consoling them and making sure their feelings are not too hurt. Or it’s me having to apologise because my reaction to their racism or them touching my hair without my consent has been deemed far too aggressive and not very collaborative by the organisation or group I was working with.

They are used as a weapon, white tears, to shut down the conversation. To get the white person out of an uncomfortable situation and out of having to look at themselves and their behaviours.

It was so validating to read this book and recognise that it doesn’t just happen to me and that this is a centuries old tactic of the damsel in distress. And that damsel is white as Black and Brown women have never been deemed woman enough to protect. And all this shit is wearing thin with Black and Brown women. Believe.

This book was an extension of an article Ruby Hamad wrote back in 2018 for The Guardian. You can read it there and just know that one Black woman, Lisa Benson, who was working as a journalist at the time got fired for simply sharing this article because it was deemed ‘an attack on white women’. White tears in action right there!

Vision Board 2025

For the past 5 or 6 years, I’ve created a vision board at the new year for the year ahead. It sets out my intentions and desires and dreams.

Last year, 2024 didn’t have a vision board. I wasn’t feeling the energy to create it. I didn’t have any visions. My head was down as I ploughed through some projects for others.

I missed the focus of creating a vision board as well as having some kind of loose map to move through the year. I was feeling lost last year in so many ways and I didn’t want a repeat this year.

So this is my vision board for 2025 and it lives on the wall at the bottom of my bed. So I get to see it and focus on it every morning and every night.

There’s nothing major on there in terms of big changes and tasks but it does focus on being more present as well as focusing on experiences over material things.

I want to feel all the feels and still be standing afterwards with a smile on my face. There’s a lot of gratitude grounded in this vision board as well as wisdom. As I know what makes me tick and what brings be joy but there has been times in the past when I haven’t been prioritising them.

2025 is all about my needs and wants and desires. And not in a selfish way but in the way of how can I expect other people to treat me well with love and respect if I don’t give myself this.

Or as Maya Angelou said it , much better than me …

So this is the intention for 2025. I’ll be back to explore and share how I am supporting this journey through routines and rituals and attitudes.

Did I share my morning routine with you?

Birthright

Our body-temples are divinely designed to restore themselves, but we must rest in order to do so. For rest is not a reward…it is our birthright. And rest helps us to indulge in soft sacred spaces where we are reminded that we are intrinsically worthy of love, concern, care, and pleasure. – Sensual Faith, Lyvonne Briggs