The Sinners Series – 004

You know I love the movie, Sinners. I’m onto my fifth watching of it.

One of my favourite songs within the movie is this one Dangerous sung by Hailee Steinfeld. I could rage on for hours about this song; it’s melody and words and underlining beat. But for now, I’m taking the word dangerous and running with it.

Within Sinners, what can be seen as dangerous is the invasion of vampires, a life or death situation. What could also be seen as dangerous is a community of sharecroppers having a safe space to listen to music and dance and eat and drink on their own terms. To be free. This could be seen as dangerous by the white supremacy culture they are living under.

For me what I see as dangerous are the white men who are still running around in their white hoods, calling themselves the brotherhood, the protectors of white women and democracy and who do whatever is takes to keep the black people( they do not use this nice a term for such people) in line even if it means killing them all.

These white men in hoods, the Ku Klux Klan, deal out justice as they see fit, creating terror as the deterrent to black people thinking of stepping out of line. And that could be just breathing.

These white men could meet you on the street one day and be burning down your house the very next day. But you wouldn’t know who they be. You know the enemy is a white man but it could be the smiling face neighbour who hides behind the hood, concealing their identity and cause havoc with no repercussions or justice or revenge on them. To live in this sense of fear is unimaginable.

Today these Federal Officials and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) marshals who are abusing their power, gifted by the Trump administration, to take people, children as well, from their homes, schools, work, off the streets and detain them, saying they are illegal, deport them, torture them for no reason except being seen as an ‘alien’ because they are brown and black are no better than the KKK. They wear the masks. They cover their faces. Conceal their identities and commit the crimes. The brown and black citizens of these communities are not committing any crimes except attempting to survive and thrive, living their lives.

Why cover your faces if you believe in what you are doing? Why conceal your identity if you are doing what is right, following the law? Why hide if you are proud of your actions?

This is dangerous. White men or white baby-men again have been emboldened and empowered to run havoc through our communities in the name of the law. Believing that they are doing what’s right in terms of some warped sense of superiority and the belief that they have a right to do so.

This is dangerous and has to be stopped. How? That is what we have to work out.

Running Scared, No More

Let’s be scared. Let’s demonise people.

This is the message sweeping across countries at the moment, around the world, as we continue to move further to the right in terms of politics and governing people. Suppressing people and voices.

Thinking about my weekend in London at the Defeating Narratives of Division conference hosted by the Ella Baker School of Organising, and coming home to see peaceful protests in L.A. around the over stretching arms of Federal Officials and illegal immigration raids on communities being portrayed as chaos and unruly and needs to be stopped with military force. Trump, man!

What the fuck is happening right now? What false narratives fuelled by fear and intimidation are catching like wildfire and are taking hold? What is happening to democracy and fairness and justice?

I too am scared. I’ve been told by some to have fear and anxiety and start panicking in order to take action. Time is running out. Passing on this narrative of fear is making us on the so-called left no better than those on the right whose fuel is fear.

We have to be pushing back against these fears. Not disallowing them but acknowledging them and choosing to fuel our movement with love and solidarity and joy. We can come together as we have the power and spread a message of love and welcome and togetherness and there is no way that message can be twisted or used against us.

It is plain to see that communities who stand together, even if from different cultures and races and heritages, are powerful and those who are crooked and authoritarian are scared of this. Scared of us taking back our power and saying no, enough!

I’ll be writing more on this in the weeks to come. But for now I just had to mark this moment of disgust at what is happening around the world but how there is much to be celebrating and reinforcing and elevating. Stories of love and solidarity and people taking back their agency and power. Thinking of Burkina Faso here and other African nations who are standing up and saying enough is enough.

But all in good time, and for me ‘good’ time is slow time. Taking the time to bring about lasting change on our own terms.

More to follow.

Writing as resistance, reclamation and ritual

From Eleanor over at The Wildheart Papers:

“This week I’m joined by the inspirational Sheree – writer, creatrix, and space holder – whose work is steeped in ancestral memory, fierce tenderness, and a deep reverence for the wild, both within and around us.

Sheree walks the edge between the personal and political, the sacred and the embodied, calling forth the untold stories that live in Black women’s bodies and lineages. 

In this soul-stirring conversation, we explore:

🌿 Honouring a daily writing practice while moving with the seasons of creativity
🔥 Reclaiming voice – how writing can be both resistance and healing
🖤 The story behind for black birds pushing against glass
🌊 Writing beyond structure, beyond ‘shoulds’ – from a place of truth and essence

This episode is a balm and a call to courage for anyone who longs to write from the wild, rooted place within.

🎧 Tune in now wherever you listen to podcasts or head straight to the Feral Words page.

And don’t forget to explore more of Sheree’s work over at Living Wild Studios – especially her regularly updated blog, which is a rich and reflective companion to her creative work”.

Medicine Walk

I was reminded of my connection to the sea today by a stranger. The sea showed up in my work without me knowing so until it was pointed out to me. I thank this fellow poet for their observation as well as holding space for myself and others to break through. More to follow on this experience.

The Belly of a Mountain – Day 10

Glencoe, Scottish Highlands

We obscure the outline of the belly of a mountain*

when we write about nature

we enter the realm of words being useless

we enter our narcissistic imaginations instead of being in with the mountain

I miss the mountains, the Highlands, Glencoe

At some point, I became marred by immobility, by staying close, staying safe

Now I return in my dreams, awake and grapple to describe their grace and poise

Abstracted longing. Never enough, never true enough to capture their form, their presence

I wait for my return. To sleep within the belly of mountains,

the mountains I’ve always felt are old Black women resting together, safe

*Day 10 prompt was: Find a single sentence someone else wrote that sticks out to you and use it as your first line. Let your poem unfold from there.

This adapted line was taken from ‘Against Nature Writing’ by Charles Foster.

Stretching Into The Light, Into The Blossom

From about mid November 2024, I took myself off on a self-directed hibernation.
I might have had to do some work in a school in December but mostly from then until today, the end of March, I’ve been resting. I withdrew from the world of responsibilities and work to take some much needed alone time. I went within, into the darkness and stillness. And now as I attempt to resurface and re-engage with the world, with great difficulty I may add, I’m taking this time to reflect on this practice and process of disappearing from the world for months on end.

Firstly, I think everyone should do it. And I don’t like using ‘should’ but here I’m going to make an exception. I know it’s a privilege to take time out of work and from seeking money for a certain period of time, and I recognise that, but wouldn’t it be a better world for everyone and even living thing, if we all could hit that stop button and rest?

For me through this retreat practice, everything is put into perspective. I give myself the time and space to reflect and process all the shit thats happening in this world. And I may not come back with the solutions but I do come back with an expanded capacity for joy and grace instead of just the feelings of overwhelm and defeat.

My time away has been good for the soul because I’ve been able to remember and reclaim my body-soul-spirit connection. I’ve been able to reclaim my connection to self, nature and other people. I’m been able to come home to myself and work out, gently, what is important to myself. What are my values and morals and am I living my life by them. If not then let’s recalibrate and get back on track. And I don’t mean the capitalist make as much money and the least connection and impact kind of track. I mean the track of being the best version of myself so I can show up for others in my family and community as the best version of myself for them.

I’ve taken this time away for me but at the same time, I hope as a role model. As an example to follow. Yes money is always going to be an issue. There is always not going to be enough to go around and to do the things I want to do or live the life I want to live. But at the same time, I can live more frugal. I can spend my money on experiences rather than on material stuff. And I can take the risk and say I’m not going to work or actively seek work for a few months while I rest, while I work on myself, while I {BE}.

Of course, my bank balance is screaming at the lack of money therein. Credit owed might be rising. And I could slip into panic mode and think I’ve got to get work, quick and fill the pot back up. But if I slipped right back into this panic mode and ran around like a chicken with no head, what would have been the point of the rest and withdrawal? All that calm and serenity and centred-ness that I’ve created over the last few months would have been for nothing. Gone in the blink of an eye, just like this time away seems to have passed.

This practice of rest and slowness, is part of my practice forever! There’s no switch that I switch back on to go back into work mode. I’m not a machine or a robot. I’m a living, breathing, feeling human being, even though there are some who have made me believe otherwise. I want and need to make sure that my life reflects my priorities and values and not just plays into the system which has never got my back.

As I’ve mentioned before, I writing about fugitivity. And for me part of using fugitivity as a method or practice, is me to take my body out of the systems of production and run. Run away from the rat race, run away from extraction and exploration and stop. Or linger in the time and space of rest and nothingness. Breathe deep and allow my body to come back to life. Allow my joyathon-o-meter to rise by feeding my soul with beauty which is there to see in the every day if only we allow ourselves that time and space to {BE}.

I haven’t just been sitting on my arse and doing nothing during this hibernation, even though a lot of the time was spent on doing nothing, allowing myself to get bored and seeing how it feels and what comes up and seeing what are my go tos to stop feeling all the feels. This has been a period of getting to know myself again, which is difficult if you’re bouncing from one job to another, one project to another, where the aims and intentions are not in my control or even anything I’ve agreed to.

So yes day dreaming did enter the hibernation period. What also featured was reading and writing and walking. And sea swims and travel and alone time with nature. Home cooking, time with family and friends. Music and dancing and artwork and journalling. A lot of visual journalling. Nothing earth shattering but enough. Enough to make me realise that I’ve been running on empty, exhausted really and how harm was caused towards me and how I needed to heal.

Yes if anything, this time has been a time of healing. And this is an on-going process but I feel better equipped now to continue the healing journey.

So April is around the corner and I’ve really not got a lot of work on still. As I made the decision not to actively seek work while in hibernation also. Why take the time away from work commitments and then spend that time searching for work, applying here there and everywhere and getting stressed about finding work for my return?
What nonsense is that.

So yes I might officially end my hibernation today, but I know I still have time for me as the work commitments are few and far between. But not stressing about the things I can’t control but will focus on the things I can control. I might start to gear up to putting our feelers for work but not full throttle. Not nice, don’t like. Again, I’m not going to waste this time away on moving out of zero effort into the max.

I’m slowly easing out of my bear cave. I’m stretching slowly, reaching for the sky. Scratching my back against a tree trunk, and then I seat back down and admire the cherry blossom coming into bloom. I’m taking the time to thank Mother Earth for being with me and allowing me to rest and to resurface when I’m good and ready. I’m grateful for this time away. And I’m grateful to be able to return in my full glory as me.

I was told I couldn’t be one!

Time to Dress Up

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

When I was five I said to my mum when I grow up I want to be a lollipop lady.

I saw a lot of lollipop ladies as I walked to and from school each day. Not only did I love the bright yellow uniform and the hat. But I also loved how they had the power to stop traffic.

Lollipop ladies just walk out into the road put down their lollipop stick and stick up a hand and the cars stop for them.

I thought that was cool.

But the main reason I wanted to be a lollipop lady was because they were always smiling. They always greeted me with a smile and a good morning or the question, ‘Good day at school?’

Lollipop ladies not only looked like they were enjoying their job but they were also sharing that joy with others, even if only for the little time it took for me to walk across the road in front of them with the cars at bay.

They were smiling.

So I wanted to be a lollipop lady when I was five and I told my mum. My mum said I couldn’t be a lollipop lady. No, she said. Maybe when you retire but not until then. You can be anything you want to be Sheree, she said. Save being a lollipop lady until you retire.

I better start filling out my application then as I’m getting old (er).