Thursday, October 28, 2010

Puddles need love too!

Autumn evening after its rained.
When golden leaves meet the greens broken off branches by waterdrops
After the sun has sipped off some of the rain and outside isnt yet droned in darkness.
Just then.
Before my people have gotten up to rush briskly to their daily chores.
In between the late rush and the morning one...

Lies a time so supreme, it need not boast it.

I and my little friend love doing our walks,
watching the wet leaves glue themselves lazily to the puddles that hold them.

I like watching these.
And hopping over these.
And in some cases,
when no one is looking,
I'd jump right up, and land myself right in one of these puddles.

And I know its silly,
Even my little doggy walk-friend looks up at me funny as if to say
"you need to grow up, you silly goose!"
but why would I want to hop over a puddle,
when it was just there, asking,...pleading...begging me, to relish in its beauty!
I heard it say to me "puddles need love too" lol


I dont know what puddles are for, really.
But I like to use them as reminders
that I have feet, I have freedom, and I have life.


Matter of fact, I want to go outside to do a puddle search right this minute!

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Sisterlocks or Bigger locks?

As you know, I have sisterlocks and to be honest with you, its (for the most part) been a great experience.

However, I have been thinking (more recently) about how NUTS it is that because I have over 400 locks, I cant retighten my locks myself. I once made an attempt... actually, I succeeded, but the success came three months after I started. By the time I was done the whole head, it was time to restart it all over again! arrrrrrrrrrrgh!

Maybe I should try again to see if this time it'll take me a shorter time?

I freaking doubt I'd do that.

Four days ago, I went over to see a friend of mine and helped her retighten her new locks. I envy her :(
She only had 40 so it took me less than an hour.





She looked so nice with them too!

My point is, although I chose sisterlocks because it'd give my thin hair a fuller look, if I could do things over again, I'm pretty certain that I would have gone the palm-roll (or other forms of bigger locks) route. This way, I could do it myself and not have to pay to have them retightened or have to make the time to... I like the feeling that I get when I know that I am self sufficient (though no one is ever truly self sufficient). Wish I didnt need a loctician to retighten my hair. Though to be honest, I probably have the best loctitian on this side of the globe.

Back to my newly-locked friend...I get this nice feeling inside knowing that she decided to take the plunge. She used to be my weaverlicious-partner-in-crime. In highschool,we had weave in all sorts of colours. Blue, Green, Purple, Pink, Red, Burgundy, Blonde... we did them all.
I dont think we did yellow though... lol

And now, we're both locked. When I asked her why she did it, she said
"I've always liked it".
But she never took the plunge till now. Hey! Better late than never. I'm just glad she's finally on board.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Guest blogging

This week, I am a guest blogger on Ope Olurankise's blog. This post would be suitable for "hairolutionaries" and well, "hairolutionaries in the making"... or people who just like to read about natural hair. Here is a link:

http://missope.wordpress.com/2010/06/01/a-different-kind-of-love/

:)

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Look at my locks

When i think about my locks, alot comes to mind.
Like back lot ways when I was a wee me.
I remember, believing that "dreadlocks" were God sent...that some people were born to have their hair tangle and be comb resistant like yardies' are, to the point where well, it just bunches up.I believed that. But like a mole, big on a face, locks were condemned even then
"It isnt everything that he made, that is beautiful, you know."
You know?
Let me tell you,I knew a person who had what I believed to be dreadlocks that were God sent.He had them till his parents decided that if they were to cut it, God would get a hint. Somehow, they may've been right because at 20, his hair isnt locked anymore.The dreads never made it back.
So why was it that when I got here, left backhome for the "lighter sands",I got to meet this one Jamaican sista...who laughed at me and said;
"You're so silly. Dreds arent natural, no one is ever born with them, they are grown".
Grown?! Since when?!
And being a teenager, I believed. How dare I not? After all, she must know.She was Jamaican. And you' d always hear about those "dreadlock" folks...the ones taken aboard as slaves...the damaged ones...who didnt quite make it....uncivilized they are...with long dreadlocks...that they just...would not cut.
I often wonder...what makes them so different from us?

Now. If you're like me, you're probably guessing that this is about hair.
But I'll be honest with you, I myself, am not so sure.

Though today, I do find myself remembering why I dared to revert back to dreads.


I got tired, you know...of being made to feel unpretty. By myself. By my people. By their people. By humans.
It gets to a point where you realize that although you maybe ugly, you are exhausted, trying to be pretty. You get comfortable within the background, close to the floor, somewhere in the corner. You dare to care. I dont know if its some wealth of boldness...courage... lack of confidence? What it is, I do not know. But I do know, I did get there; that point where I just could not care less.

I remember my(?) old hair...Ohhhh It flowed! Oh so it flowed. ......And when the wind blew, I loved that it'd attempt to chase it. And when I'd click clack it down the hall I loved that it bounced.
And boys?
White men saw me.And I didnt see the nigger reflection in their eyes.
And black men saw me. And likewise, I looked like I was sophisticated. Exotic. Something that was not of here, I was exotic.
Oh black men saw me! And I didnt see the nigger reflection in their eyes.

Long flowy hair. Especially in its darkest forms.
Thin! Bone straight! Curly and Full! I'd pay a hundred dollars for two packs of-
-Glamorous.
Because I wanted that.
And since it was said to be the best human hair brand i made sure i'd get my-
-Sensationel.
Because I wanted that.
That look...the one everyone sought after. I wanted that. And I had it.
But ironically, the remedy failed me. I'd always felt Beautifully unreal. And ever so inadequate.
Somehow, I could never get it right. But even then, it was safer than having my naps out in the wind.
So...
"baby, dont touch ma hair".
"Dont you know you never touch a black woman's hair?"
"Sugar, dont pull my hair"

Insecurities filled my pores...my follicles felt loose and I'd be scared it just might come off or better yet, he just might feel my tracks.

You'd often hear of girls getting their weaves pulled out in fights and that was the worst sh*t that could happen.I laugh i laugh at the irony of it all! First, it was that we competed to have the best white hair. Then it was shameful to have it revealed to the world that your hair was fake white hair.
Who in God's name are we fooling?We confuse the black folks. We confuse the white folks. No one seems to know what real is anymore! So much so that one said to me the other day as she pointed to my locks...
"Is your hair real?". I muttered her words under my breath as I tried to make sense of it all.
"Look at this lost girl asking me if MY hair is real, goodness gracious"! What have we done?

And if you were to have natural hair, you'd be seen as a black girl...because normal black girls dont have black hair...right? So you must be Afrocentric to keep your hair.
So! If i decide to be me. It must be because I am pro black (Yes I am. And yes you're wrong).

The whole situation is disheartening.

So now I am locked. And like the saying goes,... "and loving it".



Most people do not ask me why I chose it.I guess because
they already know.But for the ones who do,I say
"Look at the world.Now, look at me.No. Take a good look at this world. Now, look at me."




I am locked for a silent revolution.Within me, there is a drive to make right what can never be resolved.I can never touch a child's question, hold it, detangle it and set it right.So the non verbalized communications within her that questions why her mother's shiny hair comes off at night to reveal what looks more like hers, and then responds with some hope of someday, being able to rock some weave, will forever escape me.Far too deep to be noted.Far too late to be informed.
I am locked for a beauty that is undermined.That lies in my curls and stands like ma locks.That reminds me that I had almost forgotten the beauty in nature's individuality.And that long after many sleeps, I can someday look in the mirror and truly believe this beauty. That isnt only within. But out here too. Right there, staring me in the face, superior to my head. I owe it to these locks, owe it too myself to be proud.
I am locked, to stand as a question.To the reason why we often choose to bow.Where most black folks are said to be in debt And poverty seems to be knocking us out cold, some would still choose to buy Prada brand hair...than to go to work without.I am asking this question in hopes that someday, maybe we will see. That together,
we do stand taller.



Most people do not ask me why I chose it.I guess because they already know.
But for the ones who do,I say
"Look at the world.Look at me.Take a good look at this world.Now. Look at my locks."


- written, March, 2009

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Color Rays of Red n Black

I dyed my locks...again. lol

I remember asking my loctitian if she would dye my locks bright red, and she'd responded "no, you'd have to bleach it first and that'd damage your locks".

I thought... "so what? Damahe shmamage! Who cares about damage? If it does get damaged, I'll get over it and know better next time".

I'm not always the smartest pill in the pillbottle. If I was, I would have appreciated her professional opinion and learnt from it instead of trying to learn from a mistake.

Anyhoooo! I ended up finding a dye that actually dies dark coloured hair! Its called colour rays and boy oh boy does it ever work! I love it!!!

So, my roots are dyed red, and my ends are still jet black. Awww.... nice.

What is next on my todo list? Start up on retightening my locks again. I'm due already! geeesh!