Category Archives: Uncategorized

Maaaan..if I hadn’t read Zora Neale Hurston in HS, I woulda been even more of an asshole.

I was editing a fantastic blog entry for CREADnyc last week about the importance of Black female authors in Highs School. Please get your life, go there now and read it but remember to come back! LOL!

Among the 3 Black women authors Khalya wrote about, she mentioned reading Zora Neale Hurston’s “Their Eyes Were Watching God” for the first time in college.

The crazy thins is I had been thinking about that book a lot lately, not necessarily because it was among my favorite works of fiction, but because it was assigned reading in my high school humanities class and because it was the first ever book I had ever read in dialect. And I can remember like it was yesterday how quick I was to look down my uppity nose at that writing until it was made clear to be my my teachers that this book was not only worthy of cannon like status, but that it was, and is, a brilliantly written piece of literature, meant to be studied, deconstructed, theorized and revered.

As Khalya mentions in her piece, we all know what it’s like to struggle with Shakespeare, but love iambic pentameter or hate it, we see Shakespeare held in the highest esteem absolutely everywhere. And as Khalya also points out, no one has ever spoken like that. Where as dialetic is a phonetically written expression of the way real ass people talk. We hear it all the time. But we rarely ever read it. The only other example of a book written in dialect I can think of is, Trainspotting by Irvine Walsh which the film by the same name is based on. I love that movie and I totally respect that it was written in Welsh dialect but ain’t nobody got time for that! LOL! I had to watch the film with subtitles!

But back to Zora. See, when I was a teenager, I was already walking around thinking I was better than other Black students because I thought I acted and spoke the way I was taught was acceptable and appropriate. And although I hated reading dead White people classics, I never said a word in protest about it. By 9th grade I had already started reading Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Angela Davis’ collections of Short stories and Terry McMillan and I was very proud and feeling myself about that. But that just meant I was a snobby Black chick. I couldn’t stand Donald Goines and a lot of the work that came from what was at the time,  just developing “Black lit” genre from publications such as Triple Crown. I never read Zane or Push by Sapphire because I didn’t think these writers were worthy of being considered “literature.” Even in an alternative, progressive public charter school that was very subversive in it’s approach to education, I had still developed an idea about what I considered to be good writing that was of course informed by oppressive White supremacist media. I knew what kind of writing flooded the mainstream and occupied the majority of my YA bookshelf and none of them were written by in dialect by Black women.

In America, a young Black person’s learns very early that the only rewards worth anything are the ones we get for aspiring to Whiteness and hating ourselves and one another. Racism never sleeps. Slavery was never really abolished.


The introduction of “Their Eyes Were Watching God” in high school impacted me in ways I wasn’t even aware of until now because it was placed on the same level by my teachers with Shakespeare, Salinger and Harper Lee. In addition to Romeo and Juliet, we also read and did a class production of scenes from “A Raisin in the Sun.” We read “Down These Mean Streets” by Piri Thomas who grew up in the same neighborhood in Spanish Harlem where I attended high school. This was a rough book for me to get through as well, more because of the content than anything else but when I look back on it, I remember appreciating some it’s rawest moments the most.

As a huge fan of reading, if I hadn’t been exposed to these books as a teenager I might have tied myself to the notion that great fiction and literature could only look and sound one way or only be produced by a certain class of Black people. The fact that most of us are not exposed to these writers until college is no coincidence. Self hatred in Black people is a seed planted by institutional and systemic racism that historically has always been bent in one way or another on creating slaves.

Thanks to resources like, which I am continually proud to be a part of and the brilliant educators and writers there as well as Decolonizing Education Publishing which was created to empower Black children with sociopolitical consciousness and yes, thanks to the Cheeto in Chief, those who have dedicated themselves to Black revolution are providing integral entry points to the dismantling, diminishing and dencentering  of White supremacy.

Much like Janie, in “Their Eyes Were Watching God,” Black people are the world and the heavens boiled into one drop. We don’t need to conform, convert or assimilate in order to be worthy of love, equity and humanity. We never have.




Staples: I have a few

UE Staples

Recently I noticed that I’ve been running out of some products that I feel like I can’t live without. Not just your cute shit that you get as a novelty to look at but you rarely ever use, but those things you use on the regular and even daily without fail. I don’t always make the discernment between sparkly stuff that catches my eye and the products that sustain, enhance and that I rely on every day so this is actually really helpful for me.

Spectrum Coconut Oil: Aka, Black people’s liquid gold. I use it to remove my make-up every night. A little goes a long way and though mine is running low, I’m pretty sure I can stretch it for at least another week or so. It can also be used on your hair, in your hair treatments, on your skin, on chapped lips and a myriad of other uses I’m sure I haven’t listed and some which may not have been discovered yet. Check out our video at Soul Sistah Series to learn more about the Coco Cure!

Rose Hips Oil: It’s filled with antioxidants and fatty acids and stuff which is scientifically proved to be good for your skin. All I know is, after I cleanse tone and serum each night, I put a small amount on my face and it absorbs it so well. It feels super soft and smooth. I’m oily so I was always scared to put oil on my face, thinking it would make it worse. I’ve learned some thangs since I started hanging out in the Whole Foods skincare section. LOL! My first ever bottle lasted a long time because you only need one good squirt a night. But It was done last week.

Shea Moisture Argan oil and Raw Shea with Frankincense and Myrrh: Another oil that does not leave my skin feeling greasy or sticky. It absorbs into my skin so well and again, leaves it feeling soft and smooth after every shower. Sigh…that shit is done.

EM cosmetics  Felt Tip Illustrative Eye Liner: There are a range of middling to great felt tip eye liners on the market right now and trust me when I tell you, I have most of them. LOL! I’m a wing tip cat eye junkie and I searched most of this year for a felt tip that would give me the most perfected, controlled line, the most pigmented black, the tip designed to give the best thick to thin release….(I know you’re like, what the hell is she talking about?) and Michelle Phan damn did it. It’s exactly what she describes it as. It is an illustrative (read graphic) Eye liner. Think calligraphic brush. For steady hands only. When it comes to perfecting a cat eye and painting my nails, I have very steady hands. I use this liner every day and it makes it so easy and so precise that I feel like a pro! I could tell my pen was running low last week and I cannot have that. Like I can’t. Drawing my cat eye in the morning is one of the great joys of my day.

Pumpkin Velvetine Lip color by Lime Crime: It took me a moment to realize that this was not just a matte lip color I love but one that I can wear with anything, every day and always look good. Let me just say that the Lime Crime liquid matte formula is basically everything. Light, comfortable, long wearing, never smudging, running or bleeding. And  the color Pumpkin is not represented well on the website at all. It’s a warm, earth tone in the terracotta family but with a vibrant brick/orangeish colored hue. It’s described as a “Brick red.” On my skin tone, it just always looks good. It’s the kind of lip color I can always wear when I don’t know what lip color I want to wear and I don’t want to think about it.

God, I need a dress that can do that. I need like ten dresses that can do that. 

Smith Rosebud Minted Rose Lip Balm: It’s just my boujee petroleum jelly. It’s rose so it’s pinkish in color which is cute. It lasts forever. I get one. It lasts all year. It’s in a tin, not a tube because although I know we live in a germ infested world, I like touching my lips.

Honorary Staple

Fenty Beauty Pro Filter Foundation: Since I bought this foundation, I have given most of my other foundations away. I still have a few but I don’t know why I keep them. This is the only one I use. Fenty gave me what I never knew I always wanted in a foundation. It’s light but buildable coverage does not cover my skin as much as enhance it. Every night, when I remove it, I swear it’s like I’m just removing a light layer. It’s such a difference from removing a heavy formula, full coverage foundation that feels like you’re wearing a mask. I also love that there are at least 2 or 3 shades that match me. Currently I’m rocking 400, but 410 and 420 work as well. And kudos to Fenty creator Rihanna for raking in $72 million in just a month!!! All those empty spaces at the Fenty counter at Sephora don’t lie!


In My Dreams Staple (LOL!)

Flesh 3

Matte Trance Lipstick Flesh 3 by Pat McGrath 

I picked from the fruit of The Mothership Collection and now I am obsessed with the color Flesh 3 which is sold out everywhere but that’s the story of my life. I’m not super big into nudes but when you find a nude that suits you, the whole world is suddenly changed. LOL!! I did get one her Metamorphosis kits last year which included an eye shadow a pigment and a meh felt tip liner. Frankly, I haven’t used it in a while, but this Mothership Collection…It is seriously glam, and I dared not look at it directly for fear my wallet would explode. All I want for Christmas is for them to restock.


Urban Eve: What I’m Listening to Now


My husband introduced me to Liane La Havas, “Is Your Love Big Enough,” one night (wink wink LOL!) about a month ago and I have been hooked ever since. I’ve played it so many times, I think even he’s sick of the album now.

The Song that Hooked me

Found myself in the second
I found myself in the secondhand guitar
Never thought it would happen
But I found myself in the secondhand guitar

-“Is Your Love Big Enough”

I have to say, I really pretty much loved this entire album when I first heard it. I was hooked right away. But I do remember feeling like I was at the beginning of an exciting ride when I first heard the title song, “Is Your Love Big Enough.” The energy of the music, and it’s bold inquiry reminds me of Lenny Kravitz’ “Are You Gonna go My Way?” It’s a great album takes me on a journey whenever I hear it.

HERIt was while I was listening to my Lianne La Havas Pandora station a few weeks ago that I started to notice songs by H.E.R. playing repeatedly. I’m always working while Pandora is on so I never see the names of the artists. I just know that whenever an H.E.R. song came on, something happened. I listened. What was once just music playing in the background would make itself fully present as the only thing in the room worth noticing. And with music, if I respond to anything viscerally that I’ve never heard before, I immediately stop whatever I’m doing, find the album on Tidal and upload it.  “Volume 2” is my favorite of the 2 volumes H.E.R. has released. And I love the Album cover art. The silhouette of a thick hood girl with a softly glowing halo of letters H.E.R. just above her head is endearing and sweet.

HER Album 2

The Song that Hooked me

If the world should end tomorrow

and we only had today

I’m gonna love you in every kind of way.

-“Every Kind of Way”

“Every Kind of Way” is about making love and pleasing someone and the pleasure derived in pleasing someone and how much she wants to please. I just think it’s beautiful. In fact, even listening to it now is like listening to it again for the first time. I just feel it inside me. It moves me.


Okay so I heard both these last two artists while listening to my Lianne Lahavas Pandora station. LOL! It’s my top fave station right now.

Sabrina Pic

I only had to hear “Unravel” by Sabrina Claudio once. And it was only half way done when I looked up and clicked on my Pandora window. I went straight to Tidal, uploaded “About Time” and I’ve been mesmerized for days.

The Song That Makes Me Emotional

 The flowers will be blooming
The leaves will be turning
And snow will be falling
While we’re making love
And the sun will be shining
The flowers still are blooming
Then leaves will turn again

But time will be frozen for us.


Frozen makes me think of those moments when you share a special time with someone that you don’t ever want to end from something as brief as a gaze, to something as long as  a ten minute walk. Yet as a matter or your ability to cherish the moment, it must in fact end. It’s bittersweet and I’m a sucker for some melancholy done right. And this is done so right. The music on it’s own is just, unraveling. I fall open whenever I hear it.

A well crafted playlist of all three of these three albums is in the works. I imagine it would be a great mix for nothing but chillin, making love, feeling good, sexy, introspective, smoking a L, crying, having visions and starting anew.


My honorary fourth fave new artist is Bomba Estereo. A new friend I made over the weekend, at a Racial Justice conference I attended with Khalilah, explained the video for the  song, “Soy Yo” as it was playing over the speakers after an incredible night of deeply vulnerable shared stories and a hell of a closing speech by Michelle Alexander came to an end. “Soy Yo” is on the album “Amanecer” which means dawn.  I’ll also be checking out their album “Ayo” which I uploaded this weekend because the video for “Internacionales” hooked me as well.


My Black Woman Halloween Costume on a Budget

I’m a Black woman.

I’m on a budget.

I have always loved Halloween.

I wouldn’t be caught dead at the Halloween Parade these days.

I’m not necessarily sure I want to be present at whatever corny Halloween shenanigans my company it doing.

Basically, I just want to sit at my desk and roam the streets in a costume on Halloween.


And this year, I’ve figured out a way to do that.

Seat at the tableI’ve decided to be Solange on the iconic cover of her hit album, “A Seat at The Table.”

Think of it.

All I need is a wig, some duckbill clips and I don’t even have to wear any make-up (right, like I’m leaving my home without make-up). I can judge the people who don’t know who I’m dressed as and high five and kiki with those who do all while honoring a great album and a talented Black artist, sitting back, looking cute and not having to fiddle with an stupid mask, glitter everywhere, bunny ears (though I like some bunny ears) or anything that sticks out, melts, falls down or needs to be constantly adjusted.

I’m weary of the ways of the world.

Now everyone will know!


“You Hate All Black People As Much As You Hate Yourself”

How many ways can a person say racism is the real bread and butter of our American mythology, and in how many ways will the racists among our countrymen act out their Turner Diaries race war fantasy combination Nazi Germany and Antebellum South – states which, incidentally, lost the wars they started, and always will, precisely because there is no way those white racisms can survive the earth without the rest of us types upholding humanity’s best, keeping the motor running on civilization, being good, and preserving nature and all the stuff worth working and living for?

-Kara Walker

As a Black person, going to see an art exhibit by a Black artist means that you will be surrounded predominantly by White people who like to discuss form, line, light and composition rather than content. I’ve only gone to see exhibitions lately that are pretty hardcore in their examination and critique of the atrocities committed by White people on Black and Brown people so I’ve had to get used to tunneling through and stepping in front of White bodies, avoiding White gazes and just taking in the work without letting my feelings of disgust, anger, violence and sadness overcome me.

Kara Walker 2

Kara Walker’s show at the Sikkema Jenkins & Co in Chelsea left nothing to be speculated on as far as what her subject matter expressed. The ugliness, the horror, the perversion and sickness of White racism, bleeds off of every piece. There were a couple of pictures I took of images, which I still cannot post on social media because they are for me, too triggering.

22291465_10155718930603149_5363872275001101401_oWhen I think of what it must take for Walker to get these images on the paper, mentally, psychologically, spiritually I can only hope that it serves as a form of catharsis. I don’t know how White people take in images like this casually, and I try not to preoccupy myself for too long, wondering how. My guess is that it’s the same way they can imagine that anything about America’s history as it has been taught for so many years could possibly be built on anything but lies, genocide, murder and hate.

After passing through a large room of about 5-6 of the large scale hand cut paper silhouette pieces Walker has become well known for, full of the darkest, most disturbing indictment of White Racist violence via chattel slavery and the modern day products of it I have seen since Kerry James Marshall, I came into a room of more traditional sized framed pieces filled with dark paint. The first one I looked at had a few snatches of hand scrawled words on it that were hard to make out until I leaned in close.

“You Hate Black People as Much as You Hate Yourself”

It is glaringly obvious who that message is for. There is no question of its authenticity. And it’s frighteningly clear that the truth of this statement has played out from the enslavement of the first of our ancestors until this very minute. This message I feel, is the one which White people are responsible to allow into every pore without the promise of acceptance, forgiveness, sympathy or love from Black or Brown people to keep them from the rawness and destruction of it’s sting.

Because we are beyond apologies now.

The day after I went to see the Kara Walker show, White nationalists in Charlottesville Virginia were on the march again, with lit torches chanting “You will not replace us.”

Later on Dove released an insidiously racist image of a Black woman pulling off her shirt to reveal a White woman’s face and body.


And to that I say:

You cannot replace us.

Without us you have only the mirror of your sins to reflect upon.

In her artists’ statement for this show and in her pieces,  it’s obvious that  Kara Walker is clearly fed up. She knows that showing White people to themselves has very little chance of changing anything because up until now it never has. But as Auntie Nina Simone once said, an artists duty is to reflect the times. Because time will always tell.

Thanks to social media and the Cheeto in charge,  though the times haven’t changed much, the ways in which they are being reflected is broad, immediate, often explosive, and perpetually evolving. This is only the beginning.


The Only Reason I Can Never a Watch White Person’s Make-up Tutorial

This will be short.






The only reason I started watching youtube beauty tutorials, reviews, GRWM (Get ready with me if you didn’t know) or style vlogs was to see Black women doing it. I mean, initially, I started watching to find my shade twins and see how certain colors, foundations, lipsticks I like, might look on me. But I ended up watching and following Black women across the Diaspora with a broad range of skin colors because we are so gotdamn beautiful and the range of our skin tones is NO LIMIT!!!!!

And I LOOOOOOOOVE watching Black women put on make-up. I just do. I love all the different ways, the reasons, the looks, the attitudes, the approaches.

I clicked on a White chick’s video once but




Nothing for me to learn there that I haven’t been working on the daily to unlearn. And I mean personally, it’s just not attractive to me. That’s not what I’m checking for. I’m checking for me. And it’s not to say that White supremacy is not still alive in complex and dangerous ways on the Black channels but at least there I feel like I care about what’s happening. I’m invested, because I am represented.

And I can work from there.



Have I been Choosing Failure?

Do you know how many times I’ve watched the film The Hustler with Paul Newman and still not understood why some people choose to loose?

Newman Giphy

Never seen “The Hustler?” Never mind. My film fanatics will get it.

But I wanna bring the rest of you in.

Let’s try this:

Beloved are you more committed to your anger than you are to your dreams and pleasure? Observe what happens when you in all your receptivity call upon the passions never expressed. Ignite the bouquet of flowers along your spine. Don’t judge anything. Just observe. 

-From “You Look Like Something Blooming”

By India Ame’ye

I was heading downtown to Brooklyn for an orientation last Saturday morning and unless I truly don’t give a fuck, (and sometimes even then, to be honest) I pride myself on getting to events and meetings on time if I have anything to do with it. But like most people who commute via mass transit in New York, I often have nothing to do with it. Especially every weekend when the MTA decides to put you through train travel hell.

All that to say,  I had transferred to the third downtown train and was pacing in a virtually empty car which crawled along at a snails pace like it had no where to be when I realized I was not going to be on time. In fact I was going to be late. I’ve been is this situation enough times already and it’s always hard for me to avoid getting upset.

I was pissed. I was infuriated. I had to squeeze the hell out of my cellphone just to displace my violent energy into something I couldn’t hurt or destroy. Then I decided to just sit and read this book. Whatever was going to happen would happen. I couldn’t control it. I had done all I could.

All this over being late. I have problems…

And that’s when I read the passage from India Ame’ye. And this is a teeny tiny footnote at the end of page 170.

It occurred to me that YES, I have been more committed to my anger than my hopes and pleasures! And for a looong time! But hearing it, reading it out loud and outside of my own head for the first time just made me think, made me realize how fucking wrong that is. When did that happen? Who would do that?

But there it is. Over identification and investment in anger which is closely connected to fear of failure breeds a kind of lifestyle that always ensures failure. Because no matter what good you have in your life, no matter how talented, how capable, how unique, how worthy you are, if you don’t actually believe in it, you’re not really living, You’re busy avoiding imaginary pitfalls that haven’t happened yet. And even when they do, the idea should never be to hang out in the pitfalls but to learn from them and transcend them. You’re  not supposed to remain perpetually at the starting line watching others race and think you’ve figured out how to never be disappointed by never daring to try.

That sounds extreme. But I think most of us are conditioned to do this in one way or another. We think someone else will do what we need to do and do it better, or that we weren’t meant to do it anyway so why bother?

Where does that kind of thinking originate?

Some of us are conditioned to treat the world as if it could never have existed without us.

I’m not going to give you my specific theories as yet but I will say that a large percentage of it is intentional and systemic.

And I really want to move away from it.



There are many of us who subconsciously dedicate so much time and energy into our own failure through self sabotage. I’m there quite often myself. But as we become more conscious we have to demonstrate an understanding that the terms which we have been conditioned to accept are deeply dysfunctional, unhealthy and totally inauthentic to who we really are. And then go discover who we are by being who we are, in effect,  we have to create ourselves again…

For the first time.

So I was late but I wasn’t turned away as a I feared I would be. And I got exactly what I needed, plus a little bit more which I will happily share in my next entry.


How Have I Only Just Discovered Laura James?

I look to art and design a lot for inspiration, motivation and occasionally to improve my mood. And when I say art, I mean anything from fine art to street art, to fashion, to performing art, to the way any medium is crafted to mimic or honor or comment on a vibration that resonates intentionally with the human heart. Like when Migos says ssskrrrrrrt!

I like art that effectively communicates a feeling and expands or explores it. The feeling cannot be contrived with the crude and oppressive language of mainstream or standard commercialization. Obviously, for a series of reasons, not all art is effective in disrupting those destructive normative conditions. And so it’s all the more sweet and priceless and irreplaceable, that feeling when you come upon a work, which connects you squarely to your spirit in it’s execution.

This was how I felt when I came upon Laura James painting of Oshun as I was perusing pinterest for Orishas, which is what I do for inspiration and motivation and to improve my mood when necessary, along with the 7 other things I do at the same time on the internet.

I have a page on my board called “The Originals” where I curate images of Orishas created by artists utilizing all kinds of mediums, interpretations. Visually, Oshun is one of two of my favorite Orishas to see images of.  I don’t want to incur a wrath of jealousy among the others so I won’t say who my other faves are here. But there are sooooooo many! So many depictions of Oshun!

YemeyaGo ahead and google Oshun now and click on the images link. Make sure you come back, although I can understand if you don’t. You got lost in Oshunlandia™. You drowned in Yemeyatopia™.





Of all the incredible images of Oshun I have collected on Pinterest, this one below just filled me right up and in all the right places.

It’s the colors I respond to initially. I love colors and the way in which a good painter uses color combinations and shades to evoke specific themes, feelings, moods and undercurrents of energy. Laura’s colors are playful but not juvenile. They are unapologetically vibrant and joyful and seem to reference a lot of popular Mexican and Egyptian art.


Then it’s the forms. Laura’s Oshun curves her hip to pop her booty out to the left, her proud breasts jutting out in the opposite direction of her head which is tilted towards an up-stretched arm as she looks down into the water, which she is pouring from a soft pink shell onto the ground. There are also fish being poured from the shell. There are bees buzzing around her yellow clad form, ya know because she’s sweet like honey. The tail of a peacock in a tree on her right hangs down almost to her knee. There are birds gathered in a tree to her left. There are lotus blossoms and lily pads at her feet. the tiny yellow orb in the upper left corner seems to be descending into the blue of a twilight sky. In fact all the plains of the painting, the hills, the ground are painted in the same blue that blue goes shortly before it turns into night. There is purple in the blue. There is yellow in the blue. There is blue in the blue.

The shapes are simple, triangles, ovals, wavy lines. The bottom of her dress blooms out in a series of down turned  lotuses. On her waist is a belt of cowrie shells. Her hair is a rolling network of orange and blue circles that mimic the tale of the peacock.

And the last sweetest detail, a form, which seems to imitate a cloud or gust of wind is a brown face curled in profile looking down over her with an approving smile.

OH, I love this painting!

And lest I forget what looks like a frame of uniquely arranged cowrie shells painted around the entire edge, against an outer frame painted in gold.

I didn’t even know James painted this image of Oshun until last week. The more I looked at it, the more I needed know about the artist but the signature on the low res image I saved was hard to make out. I recognized Laura, made up what I though was her last name and let google do the rest.

Laura James 2.jpg

I learned that she is an Brooklynite of Antiguan heritage! YAAAAAAAAZZZ!!! She Blackity Black! And she has painted a series of religious, spiritual and secular images in the same style. She calls her art, “Art for the People.” I have to keep my eye out for her next show because I would love to see her work  up close. Anything more I turn up or discover about her, I will happily report here.


Saving My Coin for Fenty

Full coverage vs serum foundation, blending brushes, transition shades, highlighter, primer, setting powder, eye shadow base, facial serum… Over the summer my obsession with make-up expanded my jargon and practice a great deal. I have gone from the one foundation that I first bought when I first decided I wanted to wear foundation to…I don’t know, like…


That might sound like a lot but I like to experiment. I have had to do a lot of experimenting and sampling to find the products that work best for my skin, my shade and my budget and in the last week or so, I have finally gotten to that point My nightly make-up removal and skin care routine is real and consistent. My morning make-up routine is also a ritual I look forward to literally every morning. Depending on my timing, I might miss out on one or two things but the foundational basics never get skipped. I believe that if you can slay every day, whatever that means for you, you should.

D myricks

So now that I do all of the things and I would like to mention that my make-up routines consists of brands from two amazing Black owned beauty companies, Juvia’s Place, whose eye shadow pigments are incredible and named for cities and locations and monuments from the continent of Africa like Burkina and Gizeh. The highlighter I used on special occasions (and at work, who am I kidding? LOL!) is by Danessa Myricks, part of her Illumunaters powder line in “Gocha Glow.” Danessa reminds me that Black people can never shine too much. The light against the numerous shades of skin we live in is lit for real. Her models are on the next level of Glow Up. And I have never seen any other highlighter that shows up on my face the ways hers does.


So of course, now that I have all the make-up arsenal I will need for a while and am no longer shopping around and experimenting, Khalilah drops me a line this weekend that Rihanna’s line of make-up Fenty Beauty is about to drop on September 8th!

So what’s a supposed former make-up junkie to do?

Ignore my idle impulses at Sephora or any other make-up brands online and save my coins for Fenty! I mean duh! It’s Riri! I gotta check it out. I may have all I need but I have to support my girl. At the same time, I also really want to guard against buying anything that looks similar or identical to any make-up I already have. Other than that, I’m excited to see what she has to offer because if it is truly inspired by her wild, playful, intense, out of the box spirit, it’s gotta be good.

Hey Siri, Where Can I go to find Black Joy?

I knew we weren’t going to be able to fly off to an island for vacation this Summer and I was fine with that. There are plenty of great places to go in New York for a decent staycation. I also knew Mercury retrograde would come along and shred our ability to communicate effectively whatever the heck it is we wanted to do during my staycation. And that was fine too. This is not my first time at the Mercury Retrograde rodeo.

What I did not know was that hundreds of unmasked White Racists would take to the grounds of Charlottesville University on Virginia with lit tiki torches, protesting their rights to not be replaced? It seemed inevitable that once they were allowed, (because not one law enforcement officer stepped in try and stop them) the KKK, Masks off Eddie Beuer edition would go on a violent rampage.

My husband and I were was hosting a late lunch with family when it happened and to be quite honest, there was so much going on, that it didn’t sink in for me until they had gone. Khalilah had texted me and I didn’t check the info until later on.

Who wants more salad with Goat Cheese? Who the hell turned over the Taboo hourglass timer before time was up. Image of White men with Tiki torches? …is this a new add for camp gear?


It’s a trip down racist ass memory lane, the good old boys’ lynching days are back, well never left but most definitely ushered in with no attempt from government or law enforcement to shut it down, call it out, hold it back until blood was spilled and a life was taken. Actually, no, not even then, still to this day, it has not been dealt with. Because it’s never been dealt with. Its been ignored, enabled, perpetuated, supported, maintained, slapped on the wrist…

So naturally my instinct is to wanna get the heck out of town… but where in America is safe for Black person these days?

I like to travel. I like to go on long drives upstate to Nyack, Woodstock Hyde Park and such. And all the time that I have been doing these things, I’ve been aware that the further I get away from NYC the more I am surrounded by uncomfortable Whiteness that I can no longer sidestep the way I have done for years. In just the last couple of weeks, any plans I had to leave the relative safety of my apartment or NYC has been cancelled.

Understand that for me, ever since Travon Martin, and now with this recent Charlottesville event, Whiteness has indisputably come to be mean violence, brutality, terror, fear and a deep psychological sickness. And the struggle to disentangle myself from it’s very deeply destructive and embedded structure is real.


My husband and I searched the internets frantically for places to go in New York where Black people lived, owned property, could be seen in community. The best we found was Martha’s Vineyard. But ultimately, anger and frustration and heaviness gave out to weariness and no one wanted to spend that long driving with no concrete idea of exactly where we were going. The Blackest place we could be was in our own neighborhood (Inwood) and in Brooklyn where I was born and a large chunk of my heart still resides. We spent the afternoon there lounging in the magic of nature, the soft breeze, the slowness of pace and nostalgic respite that the Botanical Garden has always been for me. I was frankly shocked at how comfortable I was staying close to home. But then these are some shocking ass times we’re living through and self care for Black and Brown people everywhere, however they can get it, is vital as fuck. It always has been.

Neutrality has been neutralized and there is no longer a place, nor perhaps should there ever have been, a place for White people to be satisfied with simply not having been there on the day when their forefathers decided to institute decades of systematic, mental, physical and spiritual terror on enslaved and descendants of enslaved Africans. Most of my life as a Black woman, I have been open and accepting of most White people (Ha!) thinking that this was a choice I had made rather than an implicit instruction. If I had chosen to be as open and accepting of my own people, I’m certain I would have learned sooner how little choice I was afforded by a majority of White Racists who existed quietly all around me. The good Whites, the liberal Whites, the oblivious, the seemingly harmless Whites in the cut who do nothing, say nothing, plead ignorance because they claim no one told them otherwise, and  in the age of massive social media oversharing and limitless access to information, they remain inactive, dumb, and ultimately dangerous and destructive.


I would totally have asked Siri where we could go to find Black joy but Siri sounds like a White chick to me and she does not sound down for the cause. So I switched her off. I don’t need her. Never really did.

We stayed in the hood and found whatever peace we could there while we could because we will surely need all the energy we can get to gear up for next month. Because August has been crazy…

Guess what September is going to be like?