Josephine

Yesterday, I was sending an email to someone and I came across an old Law school colleague in the little auto fill jawn, so I decided to look her up.

Be careful when you do that shit.

I did a search and learned via the NY Times that she got married last fall to a FOUNE jawn, that she met in law school as well.

When Black folks make the NY Times marriage section, its not a game. Black folks IN “the paper of record?” #ummhmm. I smile every time I see somebody I know in there. The sociologist in me looks at the class background of the bride and groom or bride’s and groom’s, their education background, their parents occupation and their ages.

I started beating myself up, like she crazy young, she did really well in L school and she got a boo thang AND they both lawyers.

THE FUCK?

However as I spoke to Court Bear my dating coach I realized:
a. I only know part of her story. And based on my research on Black women’s sexuality over the last month, there is a LOT of performance going on, and I should be mindful of the assumptions that I make based on appearances.

b. When I started Law school, I was engaged, I gave back the ring, and I moved out. So what the fuck was I complaining for. I had it, I walked away from it. Black girls ain’t victims, they make choices. It’s really bugged out when you realize you are longing for something you already had. #Pitypartymuch?
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c. I have been fortunate to have people love me, dirty drawls Love. I dated a giver this year honey. Once you do that, it ain’t no turning back. The blessing and the curse. This winter/year is teaching me how special and rare that is.

It was like….um, don’t be romanticizing people ish, because guess what, “Now that you got it what chu’ gone do with it.”

I remember the weeks before I moved out. That August night when I hung that diamond cut diamond (which The Google has just reminded me is accurately called a Marquise, ah, now I remember honey) around my neck the way Carrie did in SITC. I know, dumb corny, but in some ways I was saying, treat me right or leave me alone. Shit Carrie did it, I can do it too. #ummhmm.

Peace to #Josephine and Black girls who stay having jobs in recessions and having jawns regardless of the season AND who do searches that bring them reality checks and Love bears. Embrace it, Can This Be Life?

I wrote this post because…

You check yourself mentally lately when comparing your life to someone elses?

Who helps bring you back to reality when you are having a pity party?

You look someone up recently and regret it? Appreciate it.

Basquiat, is one of my favorites, along with Frida, Renee Cox, Kara Walker, Faith Ringgold, Michelle Wallace, Klimt, Rothko , Chuck Close

There is something liberating about being around someone who is clear that “everyone has a right to be who they are.”

Last month, while speaking to Supreme, we got into
it about the impact that Erykah Badu had on both Common and
and Andre’s careers.

He was being incredibly insistent that SHE changed their music steez up for the dark side.? This sounded like that Oh Word post from way back when.

In and of it self the post was harmless, BUT given the history of how in heterosexual relationships if the man gets sprung, women and general and Black women specifically are portrayed as objects just short of witches, I said something when this post intially ran.

Back to Supreme. As a producer AND a fan he was insistent that:

a.) It wasn’t until Erykah that Common and Andre started
“dressing funny.”

“How you go from jeans and a t-shirt to knitted caps and
a smedium shirts?” he asked.

Looking back, first of all Common ain’t rocking nothing
that Marvin didn’t rock in the late 70’s.

And I am looking at the phone like, Um you my crush, BUT,
I am not going to be taking too much of this. Lols.

And, where is the these negro’s agency? As if Erykah Badu had
the power to “make” a grown man dress any old kind of way.

Supreme eventually conceded that the issue wasn’t how they dressed, but the fact their their music changed while dating or after Ms. Badu.

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I was like, “That’s bullshit, because as an artist you have to allow OTHER artists room to experiment and grow.? Besides you are one of the most eccentric negros I know, hence why I stepped to you. How are you going to confine an artist to the style that they started with? As an artist YOU know we can’t do that to ourselves.”

Lastly he conceded that, according to Questlove, the music that came out of Electric Lady during the late 90’s and early 2000’s was just on some other shit, and this had to do a lot to do with Electric Circus and The Love Below, Voodoo and a few others.

It was an awesome conversation. Who beefs over soul music and artists transformation?

A couple of weeks ago Josephine and I turned Badunem into a verb,
to capture what happens when we:? a.) do us b.) we (try to) practice radical acceptance c.) stay fly and in the air d.) Are accelerators for other peoples artistic ?ish, and our own work as well.

Being an accelerator for other peoples artistic shit is incredibly valuable.? Artist are dangerous because they have influence over people. Anyone who influences people has the power to change the world.

I had always known it, but I had no idea how it would impact
my relationships with people.

I mean, cats want to come along, get they artistic charge and scoot. I now realize that these are? delicate, promising and nefarious waters to navigate. Honestly, I always suspected it about myself, but didn’t realize it’s value to others.

The gift and the curse.

As far back as 2001, I was in my early 20’s dating a scientist, who had a function at Memorial Sloan Kettering. Muckety Muck Upper East side steez. We attended a wine and cheese reception. I had been working as a production assistant or admin when I could, BUT what I really wanted to do was work at HBO. My heart was set on it. Well, at this reception there was an original Chuck Close. As I stood there talking to these esteemed, old money seventy something white lady, my then partner looked at me with appreciation and said later, I am glad you were here, because I don’t know anything about that art stuff.

Inactive artist’s walk around stifled. They know they want to pursue something creative at 21, but they ignore it. At 31 the calling is still there. At 41, it just scratches at you on the inside unless you can drown it out with something else, or you finally answer it.

As a self identified artist and one who believes that everyone has a right to be who they are, I am trying to get a handle on what this means to how I go about the world, and how I interact with people. The gift and the curse.

Do you believe that everyone has a right to be who they are?

Has this impacted your relationships, if so how?

Meet any eccentric beings lately

Now That You Got It, What ‘Chu Gone Do With It.

Badun’em is a Verb