He's done it again...

♥

Kwesi Abbensetts

Peak of my Week

♥

Tasty sweets
soft skin, ass cheeks
mind of a revolutionary
kiss me into a daze
tribal tantric lover
like no other dilla
dilla crown me queen
raise eyebrows dem
can't recognize me
I spin round' in a dance
can you feel it?
feel me.

P.S. I just made this up...I wouldn't consider this to be a poem.

Quote Lovin'

 ♥

“I am very sensitive. When you’re an artist and you have a sensitive personality, life is a roller coaster. 

One day you’re happy, the next day, who knows. It’s part of the deal. Artistic personalities are about 

the whole struggle of finding inspiration.”

-Valerj Pobega

Ashé

24 minutes ago, I was feeling quite melancholy. 20 minutes ago, the feeling of melancholy transitioned into 
feelings of irritation, isolation, disrespect. 15 minutes ago, I had the urge to write a post that detailed how
upset I was and would have probably given too much of my positive energy to something not worthy of
my attention. 10 minutes ago, I came across my horoscope, which coincidentally had been posted 24
minutes prior.


It stated:


"There's a conservative veil over your emotions, Aries. Issues from the past might arise and rub you the 
wrong way. You move onward and upward by nature, plowing ahead without thinking of the consequen-
ces. Today you might be a bit more sober than usual. Look at what's worked in the past in terms of keep-
ing your fiery emotions intact. Try not to resent the past but learn from it."


Five minutes ago, I erased the post I started on and replaced the image with the one you see above. Peace.
Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace. Peace.
...is what I will have. Peace & away with negativity. Peace & away with evil. Peace & away with anger.
Peace & away with your stress. Peace & away with your worry. Peace & away with your disrespect.
There is a love, so sweet & purifying, that I need more than anything. I want to bathe in it, for hours.
I will stay there, until wrinkles appear, and then drift into a tranquility, awakening to the SUN. 
Ashé Ashé Ashé

Bob Marley

♥
“One good thing about music, when it hits- you feel no pain”

Old pirates, yes, they rob I; Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I, From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong, By the hand of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation, Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing, This songs of freedom
'Cause all I ever have: Redemption songs; Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery; None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy, 'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets, While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it: We've got to fullfil the book.

Won't you help to sing, This songs of freedom-
'Cause all I ever have: Redemption songs;
Redemption songs; Redemption songs.

All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
What a beautiful man, beautiful message, beautiful voice. My love for him runs deep, so I'll have to keep this post short. Wink.

Kwesi is genius

I'm sure that all of you are aware of the amazing talent that is Kwesi Abbensetts, but if by
chance you are not, then enjoy this short post & follow the link below to see more of his work.

Being a woman, I have a natural appreciation for our form. I love my reddish freckles, scatter of moles,
lovely curves, and skin. When I'm alone, I wear nothing and I feel beautiful. I wonder how many of us
 are still hung up on our so-called imperfections, constantly comparing our bodies to those of others
when it is apparent, at least to me, that we were created to be unique. We each possess an individual
beauty which no one else can have, nor can they fully imitate. Looking at this, I find myself loving what
I have even more.

Click here to see more of Kwesi's most recent work

Love's In Need Of Love Today

♥

I am a music junkie to the max. Growing up, I would spend the weekends at my cousin's house,
where I older cousin would teach me how to slide like James Brown and I in turn would show
him how to moonwalk like Michael. Those days were filled with so much laughter, excitement from
the anticipation of seeing Michael's latest video, and a soundtrack that consisted of music from the
60's to present day.

Outside of Michael, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye are my other favorite male artists. When I
was in middle school and every one else listened to Immature, Jodeci, SWV, etc., I had Stevie
Wonder, The Gap Band, Zapp & Roger, and a collection of Motown artists coming through my
stereo. I loved everything about the 70's-- the way people dressed, talked, and especially the how
the struggles & triumphs of black people were expressed through music. Stevie Wonder, a little kid
from Michigan, born blind & more than likely pitied by others because he was blind, is a treasure among
the sea of talented artists I've come to know. Stevie once said "“Sometimes, I feel I am really blessed to
be blind because I probably would not last a minute if I were able to see things.” Without eyes, he gave.

Songs in the Key of Life was released 7 years before I was born and yet, it is an album that I play
repeatedly. It is still recognized as his most accomplished album, certified Diamond in 1977 with a string
on singles that topped the Billboard charts for 14+ weeks, and ranking 56th on Rolling Stone's 500
Greatest Albums of All Time. Out of all the tracks that I adore & can match to certain events that have
 taken place during my 27 years, from birthday parties to family gatherings, no song means more to me
 than Love's In Need Of Love Today:

Good morn or evening friends /Here's your friendly announcer /I have serious news to pass on to
every-body /What I'm about to say /Could mean the world's disaster /Could change your joy and
laughter to tears and pain /It's that /Love's in need of love today /Don't delay /Send yours in right
away /Hate's goin' round /Breaking many hearts /Stop it please /Before it's gone too far /The force
of evil plans /To make you its possession /And it will if we let it /Destroy ev-er-y-body /We all must
take /Precautionary measures /If love and please you treasure /Then you'll hear me when I say /Oh
that /Love's in need of love today /love's in need of love today /Don't delay /don't delay /Send yours
in right away /right a-way /Hate's goin' round /hate's goin' round /Breaking many hearts /break-ing
hearts /Stop it please /stop it please /Before it's gone too far /gone too far...
People you know that
Love's in need of love today
love's in need of love today
Don't delay
don't de-lay

Bless you Stevie...Bless you Michael...Bless you Marvin. Bless you.

Today is new

There is no better reaction to ignorance than peace. Being spiteful is not my cup of tea and I find it

very difficult to deal with individuals who would rather handle their opposition with immaturity than

to simply speak their mind & let it be. I won't allow it to anger me, so this will be the last time I give

it energy.

Today is new.

I am thankful for:

God-- always loving, always forgiving, always existing.

My puppy and his weird behavior, licks, whining and eating habits.

The nightly convos I have with Ihsan & the understanding he has of me.

Lovely spring weather, daydreams that stem from it, and the sound of birds.

Opportunities to build with others, grow as a person, and expand my knowledge.

Nature-- its ability to nuture, care, and repair without the aid of harmful chemicals.

Coffee and other tasty drinks; Sweets and other comforts that warm my heart & soul.

Music-- soul-stirring, enlightening, "easy on a Sunday mornin" good-- and I love Bob Marley.

Jodi Bieber, Survivors: Domestic Violence in South Africa

 Jodi Bieber

Click here to be redirected to her website.

CLOTHshop

♥

CLOTHshop Bangles

Aureta Thomollari

▲

 

(via StyleLikeU)

Inspire to Aspire

♥

Do not follow the path. Go where there is no path to begin the trail.

-Ashanti proverb

Rachel Roy, Fall 2011 RTW

▲

One word: Color.

Rachel Roy's Fall 2011 collection is my idea of how winter should be-- cozy & chic. 

The dark hues & traditional fall colors are a perfect contrast against bolder patterns,

acting as an accessory within themselves. I love it, I absolutely love it. 

Atlanta, Michael Schmelling

▲

Atlanta Revisited is an ad hoc index to Michael Schmelling’s Atlanta, a book of photographs published by Chronicle Books in November
of 2010. Here you’ll find pictures from the book, the free mixtape that accompanies the book, outtakes from the book, posts about hip
hop in Atlanta, pictures of pay phones, air fresheners, short video clips, links to a bunch of things related to the book, links to myspace
pages from some of the artists in the book, unguided tours of Atlanta, additional text materials, maps, handwriting, tattoos, limited
edition books and prints, news about book parties and events, top ten/twenty lists, and various other resources. We’ll
try our best to make this into an invaluable accompaniment to Atlanta – as well as something that may take on a
life of its own.
(Michael Schmelling, Atl Book)

Spring!

▲

I've already started prepping my wardrobe for Spring. I love these babies.

Calling Out To The Brave Gods

♥

Lady, lady, lady SPOKE.

MUSE

▲

I am a habitual list-maker (and planner), lover of the word projects- not to be confused with neighborhood

dwellings, silence that an empty space provides and also the type that music, at its best, can do the same for
my soul. I've been a creative muse for many, without ever trying, and now I accept the title with a greater purpose

and new perspective.

The Muse Concept identifies my relationship to the creative arts, enlisting a host of business tools
to conceptualize each of my artistic goals, and most importantly, building a brand the represents this
collective effectively. My future posts will highlight my progress and information/new that I find
relevant.

?

♥

It seems to me that I have always existed and that I possess memories 

that date back to the Pharaohs.
Gustave Flaubert

The tough part about knowing this about oneself is the expectation, 

whether it is obviously set from the beginning or a gradual realization,

that those who are currently a constant source of love & support will

"get it." When the time has come to make a change, a drastic one, one

would only hope to be understood and not only understood, but inspired

by your quest to let your dreams manifest into a beautiful reality.

Obviously, I was wrong. Or maybe, they need time to adjust.

To those who have adjusted, thank you.

Valérie Belin

 ♥

Valérie Belin

Valérie Belin, Untitled 2001

Born in 1964 in Boulogne-Billancourt, France.

Lives and works in Paris, France.

Esquilo Handbags

♥

Click here

The Muse Mix

♥

Click here

 Dwele-Spiritual ▲ Outkast- She Lives In My Lap ▲Jose James- Velvet

 Guy-Piece of my love ▲ Camp Lo-Coolie High ▲ Scar- What is this?

 D'Angelo- Brown Sugar (remix) ▲ Dwele- Kick out of you ▲ Slum Village-Fall in love

 Flying Lotus-SexSlaveShip ▲ Kelis-Glow ▲ Bob Marley-Stir it up

 Blackalicious-Make you feel that way ▲ Bilal-Love it ▲ Lupe Fiasco- Paris Tokyo

 Sleepy Brown-Sunday Morning ▲ Michael Jackson- I can't help it ▲ Talib Kweli- Won't you stay

Afterword.

▲Day11▲

Today is to be cherished. A day to devote & listen, allowing the process of
healing to take place. Strengthening. In order: Cleanse (outer),
Detox (work out), Nuture (eat), Grow (learn), Speak (intake/exude
good energy/expel bad energy).

 7:32 AM 

5:30: I ate maple nut oatmeal with an orange, and sipped on 

peppermint tea. Finished watching "The Radiant Child," a 

documentary about Jean Michel Basquiat. I do not possess 

the proper words to describe the impact he has made on me, 

but Langston Hughes describes him best:

This is a song for the genius child. 

Sing it softly, for the song is wild. 

Sing it softly as ever you can - 

Lest the song get out of hand. 

Nobody loves a genius child. 

Can you love an eagle, 

Tame or wild? 

Can you love an eagle, 

Wild or tame? 

Can you love a monster 

Of frightening name? 

Nobody loves a genius child. 

Kill him - and let his soul run wild. 

Rest

Ashé SAMO Ashé

Break free

♥

4:11 am

▲Peace, be still▲

My feet are not planted as deeply as I would like, but I do possess
an energy-- graceful, emotional, accepting, and thriving. I am an
enlightened, spiritual, knowledge-seeking being, and at my best,
resilient. My spirit urges me to speak sweetly & truthfully at all
times, to exude the grace most see, but my dear, I am also very
human. I've been broken & pieced together in foreign ways,
by foreign hands, told lies, and abandoned by ones I believed.
No, no, no fret...this spirit saids. My sweet, I will never leave
you...I never left you...I am always with you. Ashé

Peace to those awake in spirit and now awake in this new morning.

Give thanks, break bread (literally & fundamentally).

Dance, laugh with a fully belly, shake, shake, shake

your lovely.

There is beauty in simplicity.

♥

Dear Self:

So ok, today wasn't that great, but look on the bright side...
You're alive.
You woke up in a warm bed and to a hyper puppy that loves you to pieces.
You received a gazillion emails for marketing/modeling gigs.
You can look forward to giving yourself a facial later.
You can also look forward to hot chocolate and a movie.
Thanks to Aleve, your back pain is going away.
You have the rest of the evening/night to lounge & make MOVES.

Last, but not least.
Remember that prayer & meditation are necessary.

Abuse

ღ

1 year ago

I sat on the left side of your bed, completely unaware that the silence 

between the two of us would soon escalate. Only the sound of typing 

could be heard, for I was busily preparing for the next work day. I 

remember asking if you were ok, knowing very well that you would 

likely hold back your truth. I was right. What happened next is just 

as clear to me, as it is a blur, if that makes any sense.

You picked up your cell phone and in an irrate manner, 

began to recite words that were immediately recognizeable, 

as I should know what has been sent through my facebook 

account. In a matter of seconds, you threw your phone in my 

direction, nearly missing my face by 1 inch. The impact resulted 

in a hole in the wall and even worse, fear for my safety. I was so 

shaken up that I could barely form words to express how I felt, but 

it didn't matter to you. I was automatically guilty of cheating because 

another man decided to send me a message via facebook, to which I did 

not respond in the same manner. You did not listen, even though you 

were actually guilty of cheating prior to this.

You grabbed my overnight clothes and threw them into a 

plastic bag, failing to grab my laptop after I insisted that I 

would do it, to which you said "I bought you that." I cried. I 

wept for the woman I had been-- confident, strong-willed, 

resilient, and trusting. I had become a shell of her, only 

hanging onto a shred of hope. I cried, as you grabbed my 

arm and dragged me towards the door, screaming at the 

top of your lungs. I pleaded with you, as you pulled me 

down the stairs, chanting out the words BITCH FUCK SHIT 

as if that was my whole name. My body felt limp as you picked 

me up and threw me on the front porch.

It was cold outside and the pavement had briefly become my bed. 

Laying there, I drowned myself in tears and heard sounds come 

out of my body that were unfamiliar and frightening. I was whaling. 

For the next 10 minutes, I began to pull myself towards my car. The 

weight of my pain held me down, making it much harder to breathe 

and even see. When I had climbed in my car, I heard a door open and 

soon thereafter, footsteps. In such a shocked state, I barely noticed the 

black shadow approaching me or maybe, I just no longer cared. You threw 

a bag into the car and walked back into your home.

By the time I reached the interstate, I had already ran off the road at 

least 3 times. My eyes were swollen & everything seemed blurry. Pain. 

I remember being overwhelmed with pain. I heard a familar noise coming 

from behind me and even when I realized it was you, I still didn't understand 

why. Why would you follow me home? Why?

I talked to your best friend as soon as I walked into the house. By that 

time, you had already emailed the person you accused me of cheating 

with, threatening to attack him. At some point, the next day, you emailed 

me and then you called. I had been crying so hard from the previous night 

that I lost my voice & my face was swollen. You apologized for several things, 

but mainly your ill-mannered assumption that I had cheated. I had done nothing 

to you, ever.

We separated.

We got back together.

You did not make an honest attempt to gain my respect or trust back.

You continued to break your promises and embarass me in front of family 

and friends.

You cursed at me, often storming out of the room after causing an argument.

You lied, did not tell me that you had my passwords, and did not tell me you 

were 

logging into my email.

You emailed my best friend and told her that she was a bitch & would never 

have a man...all because she didn't like you (what did you expect?).

You actually considered walking out on me, after your friend conveniently 

showed up at the same lounge, while we were on a triple date with my best 

friends.

You left me at Scarowinds, after I had paid for you to go. You didn't even wait 

in the parking lot.

According to you, I was supposed to be grateful, despite the examples I stated 

above. I wasn't allowed to expect more, because you took me out to dinner or a 

movie. I couldn't complain or attempt to discuss anything with you because in

your eyes, you were trying to move forward.

You were trying to move forward.

A year and some change later, I find myself here...sitting in my bed,
without you. The pain I felt only revisits me when I am on the brink
of individual success. I felt it today, as I was laying in the bath tub.
My back was throbbing and I started to feel alone. I wondered how
I ended up in this position, after devoting so much love & care into a
person, a relationship. I cried, only this time, I had faith. I can admit
that I am now afraid of loving someone, caring, sharing. I can open up
and show my personality, but the feeling of caring for someone else brings
me to tears. I don't know how to be the person I once was and I also
understand that I can't be. I'm not perfect, but I do believe that
what I deserve is priceless.

I don't want to be a sexual object or a doormat, I just want to be
recognized and appreciated for who I am, what I can offer, and
simply, just as a human being. Coming out of an abusive relationship
& thriving thereafter, is my testimony. I'm learning to love me and in
turn, love those who have always been supportive. I hope that when I
decide to open up again, the person on the other end will take care of
my heart. I only have one.

Yago Hortal

♥

Yago Hortal

Used.To.Love (written by me)

♥♥♥

Two years ago, I started the tedious task of writing my first book of poetry. I keep a folder of my handwritten
notes & electronic versions of each poem, constantly reviewing them to make sure my intent is clear. I came 
across this poem and decided to share.
 

Used.To.Love 

I used to think of you

literally just 

you

it was as if heaven had 

unfolded its pillow-ee

layers to shower down

thoughts

that

penetrated my mind

beyond its perceived

capacity

at last a 

feeling

that was meant to be

true.

Truth you spoke (your eyes)

my dear matched mine

danced in a spiritual rhythm

only the badu in me could

define and I would have to

praise God get the

holy ghost make pancakes

from scratch squeeze juice 

from oranges from a plant whose

seeds were found on blessed ground

these things I would do to

repay you for these moments.

these moments when you have crossed my mind.

© 2011 Candace Bailey 
 

*If you would like to post this poem, please reference my blog & include my name*

Spirit of Acceptance

♥

“There’s always something to suggest that you’ll never be who you wanted to be. your choice is to take it, or keep on moving.” 

-Phylicia Rashad

When I began to formulate a reason for writing (at the last minute) today, a recent self-portrait of myself immediately invaded my thoughts. I, once again, admired the contrast between the black and white, admitting only for a brief moment that I was astonishingly beautiful and even more in awe of the ability to capture such beauty. This feeling, nested warmly between the soft edges of my soon-to-be healed heart and soul, faded just as fast as it arrived when I heard the distant whisper of an old acquaintance say: sometimes I look at your picture and wonder who you will become." He was referring to a photo of myself, at the sweet age of 7, which showed me holding my fists up in a ball as if I was preparing to fight the schoolyard bully. Looking back, I've only had the pleasure of meeting one bully: myself.

I am but one person and being that I am indeed sane, it should be much easier to treat myself with the same patience that an older lady incurs in waiting for her first grey hair to arrive. This is not the case. Nor is this the case of a pretty southern belle, so charming that everything she touches turns to gold, that even the laws of attraction work primarily in her favor. No, none of this is true.

I am a bully, without the mean stare, expanding steroid-induced muscles, and greasy hair that is associated with most, but for the sake of confusion, just consider me the "new millennium" bully. At anytime, I can cause my nerves to go into a panic—attacking all that is left of confidence in what I am currently doing & pursuing. Then, the questioning begins: “am I doing too much?,” “should I heed the advice of others, even if I think they are wrong or misguided?,” “is this my true purpose?” If I am lucky, my soul will save me from the damage I am sure to ensue if distraction doesn’t intervene, rarely though, does that occur. I spend the next few hours or days in solitude, fighting a heavy battle between what I believe & what patience is against. Out of desperation, I search for a way out, a reminder or phrase or photograph, anything that can directly lead me to rekindling the relationship that one has with him or herself.

Out of nowhere, a question arose: Does the divine spirit need me or do I need it? Without speaking a word, I knew the answer and the solution. If I do not own the right to tear someone else down (which I have never done intentionally), then I could not possibly conjure a valid reason for doing the same to myself. And if I am to believe in a divine spirit that it always peaceful, loving and reassuring, then it would be an insult to continue to treat myself this way.

I have a smile so wide, the creases form a circle around my face. I’ve got a soul so deep, it would take a lifetime to fill. I am so in touch with “it,” there is no need to ever explain. And at this point, explaining is just a waste. Living is much more useful.

I am a poet.

♥

"They say that I am a poet
I wonder what they would say if they saw me from the inside I bottle
emotions and place them into the sea for others to unbottle on
distant shores I am unsure as to whether they ever reach and for
that matter as to whether I ever get my point across
or my love."

Saul Williams

It is all divine.

♥

A few years ago, I found myself in Nashville with my mother. She was participating in a conference for her job and me, well, I was just tagging along and in many ways, attempting to purge the stress of reality. I find it funny, yet frightening that I can recall certain moments & feelings from that trip, but I also understand that it was necessary.

I have never been religious, but I do consider myself to be spiritual. I feel, I know, I hear, I listen, I act in accordance to the only divine spirit I've ever known. The divine knew me, but I didn't know it until I entered Nashville. I remember walking around this hotel, Grand Ole Opry, in awe. Architecturally, it was similar to old English mansions, majestic in detail and soothing in it's cool tan/neutral tones. A thousand vines of leaves adorned the walls, leading to a mini-mall full of little shops and guests who, like me, were just as taken back by everything around them. When I had reached the end of my journey from one side of the hotel, I went through the maze, following the signs, which led me to the other side. I walked back to the center and saw water. I stopped. In front of me, the light from outside beamed through the roof, showcasing a pebbled bridge with cast iron railing. Underneath, a man-made pond and a boat, carrying guests. As silly as this sounds to me and must sound to you, I felt something shift. There was no trick of my eye that led me to this conclusion, it was the air I was breathing, the sounds I heard, and what I felt. It was all divine.

I went back to the hotel room and returned a phone call from an acquaintance. He was on his way to meet with me and for some reason, I was nervous. We had only met once, but there was something about him that I gravitated to. Besides, I had to return his Lupe Fiasco cd, which I mistakenly kept when I left Atlanta. Within a few minutes, I dressed myself in a pair of jeans and a black & white sweater. Nothing fancy. Just comfortable. I walked, through people & their laughter, on top of the pebbled bridge, looked up and saw him. His face was glowing, dark & smooth, with a smile so wide & pretty that my insides smiled right back. Immediately, I felt another shift.

He said "hello" and I replied with a unknowingly charmed "hi." We, two strangers in awe, walked side by side through the same laughter, the same people, but this, whatever it was, was very new and very beautiful. He had taken the day off from work to show me around and our first stop was to a small cafe called "Cafe Coco." When we walked in, my insides smiled again, for the sheer fact that this little cafe, with its distressed walls, small corridors, and minimal space...was perfect. The next hour was filled with stares, vibes, and the type of crush that could only be described as "school yard lust." We finished each other's sentences, shared our food, and enjoyed each other's stories. Without ever being told what I liked, he seemed to know. After we ate, he led me to another small spot, a quaint bookstore. The smell of incense brushed my face as I walked in and around each room, inhaling the peace surrounding me. Then, we left. I had no idea where he was taking me, but as we drew closer to a large building, I knew it must be art-related. We arrived at the Fisk Museum and for the remainder of our time there, we talked about relationships while admiring the work in front of us.

I had only seen his work once. Being a model, I had always been in front of the camera, but photography was always an interest. Looking through his camera, I asked questions about how he got started and what was his goal as an artist. I was sure they he'd been asked the same question a million times, but I didn't care and he seemed to be happy to share. Again, we talked and stared. He never took his eyes off of me and throughout the night, I felt myself shift into a zone. I was at peace.

A month later, he drove to Charlotte to visit me and soon thereafter, we began dating. It lasted for 2 years. That experience alone, although it did not end on the best terms, was the first time I had been in love. Not in love with love, but fully engaged in the spirit of love, drinking it, eating it, breathing it, cultivating a kingdom from it. We intentionally drowned ourselves without thinking to come up for air. At least we were together.

When I came across this photo, I did not know it would lead to me sharing this story, but I did feel a shift. Lately, I have been spending more time in meditation, choosing to stop planning and just submerge myself into action. I've grown to not only accept my flaws, but to also love them. I guess that you could say that I've been "shifting" towards my destiny. It began at birth, met up with me in Nashville, and walked with me from that moment on. If you've ever felt a shift, something you couldn't explain, but weren't afraid of, something that brought peace...hold on to it. Never let it go. Just listen and walk.

Quazimotto.On.Wax

♥

Quasimotto.On.Wax