| “Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces.”
Yikes. Lol. Was that your reaction when you read that too? I’m not trying to get torn into pieces.
Yesterday was holy because I made sure that it was so. My artist (the little girl who lives inside of me) was still hurting so I was in full mommy mode. I cut my phone off for hours on end. Nope, you not talking to them niggas today. I blew the dust off my iPod and blasted my party mix from circa 2012. I danced and hyped myself full out. Probably sounded like You Got Served to my downstairs neighbors. I cleaned. Shockingly my artist loved this. It made her feel grown-up and in control.
And in the evening I hand-delivered New Black. It never gets old seeing people’s faces light up at the wrapping, at the care that goes into each one. (Janika got them things looking plush!)
Then I stumbled upon an artist date. Remember a few weeks back I said I follow this program called Artist Way? “Follow” really boils down to two things: Writing three pages in my journal first thing, every day, no matter what, and taking my artist out on a date each week. Our inner artists (and we ALL have one) are children. They like simple. They like fun. They like to play and explore. So I never do stuffy artsy shit like gallery openings for an artist date. No, I go to the museum during an off hour when I don’t have to talk to anyone. (I hate discussing art. People always try to sound so smart.) I go to the park and climb shit I’m not supposed to. I go to jam sessions and dance like I’m in my living room.
I know some of y’all are reading this and thinking, “How she doing all that during covid?” Don’t worry ’bout it sweetheart! I’m in Houston which is a hot spot and trust, we have earned the title. Lol. (Remember the rule, if we can cry about it, we can laugh about it.) Stuff here is open. But sometimes I stay in for artist dates. I re-watch Book of Eli or Homecoming, I light a candle and re-read Maya Angelou’s autobiographies. I re-watch a Nipsey interview.
But yesterday my artist did not want to go home yet. I hit a few artist friends to chill. Didn’t pan out. I drove to the 3rd ward looking for my favorite food truck. They were closed. I settled on Reggae Hut and passed an African shop.
I crossed the threshold and felt immediate peace. The statues and masks seemed so solid. Like strength herself. The paintings were alluring. The smell was a waft of sweet and spicy incense and the
Gambian shopkeeper reciting the evening salat was literal music to my ears. His singing washed over the space as he and another knelt and stood repeatedly. I speak no Arabic and didn’t need to. My spirit understood.
Banke Awopetu
Word Goddess
P.S. Today’s quote comes from….you guessed it! My nigga Jesus. Matthew 7:6. I would translate how I hear Jesus saying this in my head, but we get new folks here every day and hearing me call Jesus my nigga might already be too much of a shock. (But if you want the raw reply and I got you.)
P.P.S. Okay, time for our daily task! Pick up a pen and describe your perfect artist date. What would be fun to you? Getting some crayons and a coloring book? Going to a fancy market and trying a new recipe? Taking yourself to a house party and dancing all night? Going to a car dealership and sitting inside luxury vehicles? Attending an open house? Whatever! Write it out. Don’t worry about whether it’s feasible. Just enjoy the imagining.
P.P.P.S. Click here to pre-order New Black before they sell out 🙂
P.P.P.P.S If you didn’t catch the don’t worry bout it sweetheart reference click here.
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