“Is it too much?” I asked myself…probably asked Frank too. After all who would have the audacity to slap their whole profile on the cover of their debut self-published book. Well, who was I and I am me. In retrospect to a year ago, you could say it was a bit of vanity— I mean I love that picture. On the other hand, I never want the world to have to search long or hard for the face of the hands that penned those lines of prose and poetry. When I was young, like 13 or 14, back when AOL
Imagine for a moment that you are a spirit being human tasked with a soul journey of consistently freeing and expanding your mind and strengthing and refining your body to manifest expansion. Now, give yourself the grace of knowing you have your lifetime to accomplish the latter but that time goes by in the blink of an eye, and every woman or man’s blinking is measured on a different scale and kept by a different clock. Learn and Grow to Manifest Expansion You have a duty, only to yourself, to grow and expand by mastering your nature and elevating your
Dear Love, Not to long ago, I had an ideal opportunity to teach my own poetry/spoken word class at a local art center. Ironically enough, I have not went through with it, yet… Did I squander a perfect opportunity to expand my horizons or postpone the opportunity for a more suitable time? I ponder over questions like these often. Cycling the Mulberry Bush We live in a time where we rush to achieve this or that daily. We force ourselves to become unfulfilled masters of this skill and that field in an unattainable pursuit of success and happy. Along that
Dear Love, I often find myself or catch a glimpse of my authentic self when I am rambling to my speech-to-text app in my car. In those intimate moments, while my mind and heart are dancing on the tip of my tongue, I stammer upon the necessary incremental notions of who I am becoming and what she and I truly desire. Unfortunately or fortunately, the transcriptions of said candid recordings is barely ever an accurate representation of those actual self-revelational moments. Therefore, the mere thought of editing the ramblings into anything close to a cohesive blog post is offensively and
We always believed we could fly—no one else did. They only saw us getting as far off the ground as their chains allowed them. But an old goose once told us that there was always a way to make the impossible possible, even if it was a long shot on a distant horizon. So we waited. Waited until the clouds churned black one day and lightning struck the sea. We leapt—some would say fell headfirst. No matter, someone or something caught us, both, and fixed our broken wings. My Mother Said Write: Shadow Work Available on Amazon, Kindle, Books-A-Million, and
They will say we sound like the distant rumble of two trains passing in the wake of night—like the scent of sweet magnolia and a snowing dogwood gallivanting through the city streets, dancing just beneath the down-turned noses of street vendors, invading the savory bites being consumed underneath umbrellas outside of old pubs and well-established breweries by the high-class and low-class, the white-collars and blues, and those without likes of either. Others will say we look like two stars—colliding like kaleidoscope images caught in a spiraling hall of mirrors. Yet, it is we who will say that we are nothing
https://youtu.be/JyhBE5LDslo Homemade Coconut Body Butter Dear Andestagonwa (Love), Coconut oil is our home’s go to in the summer. It is light on the skin, so we do not feel all hot and icky in the heat. However, when winter starts peeking around the edges of fall and our skin begins cracking, it is time for something heavier, more nourishing and moisturizing. Homemade, DIY body butter blends are my solution. My favorites include, my Shula Gold recipe with coconut oil and shea butter, and my Beulah’s White Gold with coconut oil and white beeswax. Once I have my base, I like
Are You Hearing Yourself? Communication, Minding Your Business & Self-acceptance for Success
I have stood on the bank of the Patapsco, staring across the water at the steel trees with no branches or leaves kissing the sky. It is mesmerizing how such a creation could rise from the earth but drink no water, breathe no air, but still live and have the capacity to die. Like those magnificent architectural novelties I gaze upon from beyond the city center banks, many, if not most people who dance in and about their walls barely exists — and rarely strive for anything more. The people barely drink what can be called water. What flows cumbersomely