|Mug Shot of a woman in a New Orleans jail facility in early 20th Century|
But really, I now understand that I have been going through serious internal shifts. Now, I am more interested in exploring the struggling chick from within. Fuck who hears or not.
It is she who pushes this blog and pulls me away at the same time. It is she who contemplates closing EcoSoul or letting her breathe. It is she who sings America, and cries the blues of African and American; my double consciousness like the woman in the photo. On one hand she refuses to be seen, and on the other she looks at her prisoners with a motionless power.
This woman in the photo reminds me of so many women I see on the trains, holding groceries, twisting their hair in a hoopty waiting on the light, assessing me on the bus stop. It is our struggle to be what we want and what we are expected to be.
I stand firm, even when I am tired that it is so critical for us to articulate the push against the insanity, that first and foremost boils within.
There are days I want to regurgitate when I realize I am as sick as the next. Then I become calm, my dis-ease is my testimony, and is the journey I walk with the whole world.
The Mayan calendar is etched in my skin, on my soul, the ending of who I was is near, and the beginning of who I must be is around the corner.
So as I write everything under the stars and skies, you will see the human trait of contradictions, crassness and love, wrapped in two lines.