Okay, so remember Exploits One and Two, right? Well, after alla that, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a gallery opening, and take in the provocative, soul-stirring work of some very talented artists. Check out some of the photographs I purchased:
"Two Splits" Bissau, Guinea 1992
"Goatee" Senegal, 1992
This picture haunted me, yo. When I initially held it, I was overcome with the sense of struggle, desperation, strength, pain, and sadness that was captured in this man's face. Completely overwhelmed, I put the photograph down....then 20 minutes later decided it was something I couldn't be without. Get more info on the bomb ass photographer here.
So okay, speaking on moving pieces of art, check out my birthday present from my favorite power couple:
A coffee table book: The Illustrated Life of Bob Marley - which includes rare memorabilia, handwritten lyrics, original posters, audio cd, and !more!. How fucking cool...
All Supa's peeps already know: she believes Robert Nesta Marley to be one of the finest, most soulful, revolutionary, talented, compassionate, spiritual, finest, prophetic, (did I say foine?) black men to ever bless this earth. Yeah, I know he spread his seed far and wide and had like five hundred babies...but I'll give him a pass... Some days I think I'da signed up to be one of Rita's sista wives, Big Love style, knowhatimsayin?? Just let me get my monthly ration on, and it's all goodie... (HA! Not really, but...yeah)
Next: Supa's own birthday present to herself: Something that she's had an obsession over since she was a shorty, on account of spending her summer nights in Silver Springs, Maryland, drifting to sleep under the stars while trying to figure out which one she fell from...
That's right, boys and girls: Introducing my hammock!
Purchased just in time too, considering all this heat. Though of course I've had difficulty keeping my spawn out the damn thing.
Exhibit One: A hammock fight between The Boy and The Girl:
Supa says: Get ya'll's lil' asses outta my hammock and GO CLEAN UP YOUR ROOMS!!
So. On another, more real note: Supa was driving home on her birthday, a suddenly found herself making a turn into the cemetary where her friend Karen was buried. Now ya'll gotta know, I don't do cemetaries. Don't believe in them. Think they're more for the living than for the departed; I know that the people who passed are not "there" - just their earthly remains. Plus, my tolerance of the idea of decomposing bodies and bones and graves and shit has decreased greatly since this. Feel me.
But - I went to talk to my friend Karen. It was my birthday and I missed...you know, just everything. Guess I'm still grieving, along with the fact that Karen and I never had the opportunity to build on our "last" conversation. We'd been playing phone tag for over a month, our lives so busy with work and family and children and The Routine...so, I sat down "beside" her and got caught up on our last convo..laughed and cried, assured her that I'd keep the promised we made to each other (life is too short not to pursue an authentic life), picked myself up...and got to executing Birthday Exploits #1. Like that.
And since then, the Supa Friends collective have been callin' me Kunta, 'cause I been a lil' child runnin' wild in these streets like a runaway slave who just got some bootleg freedom papers. But I 'aint Kunta, cause homie got his foot choppeded off and had them crackas callin' him Toby. Supa be mo' like...Harriet mufuckinTubman, mobbing on that underground railroad, following the North Star..toward a life full of good times, big dreams...and chilled Vodka. (babe - hush!)
I'ze free! I'ze free! (And I'm Bossy...)
Hope you is too, Blogger Fam!