Bodhisattva Harlem Mama

2026-03-13T00:02:00.000-05:00

Oh my goodness! Almost a month since my last blog. So I'm offically not manic anymore. And I'm finally not psychotic. That's so sad to say and sad to admit. I went into a psychosis filled with mania, delusions, paranoia and lots of other great stuff. I've been taking continuing ed art classes at a lovely place that seems to be well known in the city Cooper Union in the Village. It's been good. My drawing is really developing. It was my weakest ability and I'm steadily improving. I'll be taking classes until the end of April. We copy the masters a lot and we draw models. When I came in a little late one day and saw a naked lady just standing there trying to be cute, I tried not to gasp aloud. I really did. I'm not sure what sound came out. But I think my class knew I was a naked model virgin. Maybe not. Most likely all the shock was in my brain and was never expressed out loud. Anyway, it's been interesting. And I must like it because I schlep myself all the way across and all the way down this island on very cold Saturday mornings to participate. Granted, I stroll in late because med induced laziness makes it very hard to rise before 10 am. But I make it just in time to create some cool stuff. See the latest cool stuff above. Valentine's Day was nice. My mom was in town and she cooked Shane and I this really great meal. He bought my favorite seafoods and we all enjoyed a lovely evening. I had to splurge on a healthy sized box of Godiva chocolates for us so it really was a nice Valentines. With all the drama of December and lots of petty arguements between my husband and I for what seems like forever, it was really nice to have a nice Valentines. Oh yea, flowers, too! A pot of mums and a bunch of roses. He's a good guy. I watched Tyler Perry's Daddy's Little Girls (I don't care who thinks he's cheesy, I let Shane know that that's the one man I'd pack up and leave him for. I even described the scenario...."Hey, Fran, come live in my ATL mansion with me forever and ever," says Tyler. "Okay, Amelia needs a swing set and and indoor pool, cool?", says me. "Cool, my copter will be on your rooftop to take you to my jet in 25, be packed by then." "Sure thing! Bye, Shane! Much love."
I'm so terrible. We had a good laugh about it though. I came up with a few scenarios.) Anyway, I digress. That movie was really interesting to me because although I'm not some big time ATL attorney I felt like I could relate to the storyline. Boy meets girl, but girl and boy from different backgrounds and all sorts of deterrants ("umm, u got kids?! What's that mean, baby mama drama?!!!!", but fall in love anyway. twas sweet. And critics still don't seem to get the appeal of this man and his movies. They are so Atlanta, I love them. I almost feel like you won't get it unless you one: have faith two: understand the south. three: understand or at least can relate to regular not so bougie black folk. And I think I love them because they make me feel like I'm a part of a larger community even though I've always felt like an outsider. They say his audience is mostly Black American women who go to church. That's not a huge audience, but its most definitely a niche not regularly marketed to, much less have movies made about. So yes, I love Tyler cuz he loves me, even if its in the broader sense. Anyway, I feel I digressed again. It's hard because Amelia wants at this keyboard SO badly. Tantrums since I started this blog? 3. Along with progressive whining and two feedings. That's what it takes to spit out one blog entry. Okay, finishing. I think we're at the last tantrum, I think I'll just stop. Me typing is just too tantalizing. I wish I could get this girl a computer. That's all she wants. okay amelia!!! I'm coming!!!!! dear god.

2022-06-24T06:06:00.002-05:00

Moving to Substack. Follow my blog here!

Musings

2022-06-18T04:38:00.000-05:00

It turns out our little fox is actually a family of six. We are hoping no one is feeding them. We are also hoping they will move on soon. It has limited our ability to be outdoors significantly. We give them their space and we protect our animals as well.

We added a bird bath to our yard and in this dry spell it has become a little oasis for our birds. They appreciate the additional water source. I also cleaned and added another hummingbird feeder. I incorporate the girls in this stewardship of the birds. Just as we work in the garden together, we take care of the birds together. I’m trying to teach them the importance of outdoor life at home.

I’m up early today. I have a busy day ahead of me that I will share about in the coming days.

I’m missing Arizona. We had such a lovely trip. I hope to visit again soon. It is truly magnificent.

Almost full.

2022-06-13T18:31:00.001-05:00

The fox.

2022-06-13T18:28:00.001-05:00

The speckled brown and gray fox living in my woods wants to be friends with my dogs. A few times in the early morning when the dark is still upon us, the dogs find him and chase him down. Then he turns around and chases them back down the manicured lawns. Suburban fox thinks these dogs are playmates. I have to sadly break it to my dogs that alas, they cannot be friends. Scares of rabies and other wild animal diseases make me stop our morning venture into the front yard and street. Now, we are relegated to the back yard, not nearly as fun and expansive.

We share land with the foxes and coyotes that pass through on occasion. These are suburban wild animals doing their best to survive on chipmunks and squirrels and the occasional chicken raided from millennial-owned chicken coops. One such raid has denied me the pleasure of light blue chicken eggs and their creamy yokes that a neighbor’s chicken so graciously laid for me for about a year before being eaten by a rogue predator. New chickens lay small brown eggs, but none as memorable as the blue ones.

Arizona

2022-06-11T22:35:00.002-05:00

Navajo and Hopi Land

2022-06-11T22:25:00.001-05:00

I am nestled in the small town of Kenyata, AZ, not too far from the Utah/Arizona border and in Navajo and Hopi country. The people of this rugged, majestic terrain have been kind and offered us, tourists, their homes, a peek at their land and overall wellbeing. COVID has taken its toll on the Navajo people – 50,000 dead. 50,000 souls perished, now a part of the spirit realm. My heart aches for the loved ones left behind. Their loss was devastating. We stay masked to protect them.

We have seen many sites on our road trip around Arizona. We forked over some cash and headed into the bowels of Monument Valley on a tour truck today. Well worth it. Our pictures cannot capture the beauty of this land. It’s as if Mother Earth said, “No, you must see it yourself to capture my creation.” The black swaths and striations of the red rock towered over us. These mesas, mountainous rock formations with flat plateaus on the top rise out of the ground, showing off and piercing the skyline. An ocean once saturated this land. Deep, deep water with creatures whose bones now tell their tales. This dry land was wet. Now it is sprinkled with pops of green thanks to the blessings of snow and heavy rain for a spell in the winter season.

With our tour guide, we spoke of treaties long ago that our government failed to honor. We spoke of boarding schools that snatched the Navajo language from the mouth of babes, once again being spoken in schools for a new generation healing from their parents’ and grandparents’ wounds.

We have had a whirlwind couple of days traipsing this land, south to north and then south again. The Grand Canyon left us speechless. We came at high sun in the heat of the afternoon and then again at sunset when the color bursts were pink, purple, orange, and gray. A sight that as I said before, Mother Nature said we must see ourselves because our manmade contraptions to capture this site will fail us and flatten the thousands of layers stretching into the horizon for hundreds of miles and also plunging vertically down into Her depths by thousands of feet. I stand at the edge braving to look down and spot condors flying below me, small black slivers as they search for their prey. I am grateful to the National Parks department for maintaining this land so well. I pray that these places stay sacred and public for all of us to see and love. It must be quite challenging to manage the millions that trek to this Mecca of America that humbles us so profoundly. I am truly grateful for this experience. I hope to always remember this journey west. I will head back to Cherokee and Creek land in the southeast soon. Until then, I will enjoy this place and pray to return one day. This joint Fay and Fran production taking the kids west will always be a memory cherished.

Happy Pride!

2022-06-04T20:21:00.002-05:00

From Past to Present

2022-06-02T13:46:00.003-05:00

In the present, there is clarity.

No fog, no wind, or blasted insecurity.

Growth, like a leaf,

sprouts from these fingertips.

The past, a cacophony of

noisy, boisterous writing.

Practice improved the craft.

Years of practice ahead.

Time will tell its resonance.

Conversations

2022-05-30T20:11:00.001-05:00

How do I teach my shrinking violet to take up space? Why does my space need to be so limited?

MOM, you’re too loud. You’re TV’s too loud. You chew too loud. Mom, your embarrassing me. Mom, where’s your candy? Can we go get candy?

CHILD, I can’t hear you, speak up. You must learn to speak up. Is that laundry done? Practice. Practice again. Have you read the chapter I told you to read? You need to concentrate.

MOM, I had weird dreams.

CHILD, me too.

MOM, I don’t want to go outside to play. I want to sleep.

CHILD, get up, get dressed, go outside. And then unpack the dishes.

MOM, I don’t have any friends.

CHILD, yes you do. You just don’t know how to have a conversation outside of text messages. Cultivate those friendships. Learn to talk. Go clean your room.

MOM, I don’t know how to be happy.

CHILD, that grateful/thankful list you made is what you focus on to be happy. The good things that make you happy. Have you told your therapist how you feel?

MOM, why do you sing all the time? Can you stop singing?

CHILD, that’s my happy place. Please don’t try to take it away from me. Moms can sing. We need to. Take up space, baby. Try to take up more space. That’s what I’m doing.

Fire

2022-05-30T18:40:00.003-05:00

Memorial Day

2022-05-30T10:37:00.001-05:00

Memorial Day

Soldiers depart their wars to sit alongside water today.

The fallen already there, their spirits clouds above.

The massive creek catapults itself down the rocks, down, down,

To the lake downstream.

In the center of the creek lies a precipice

The trees there thrive

Water on all sides,

Grinding stone to rich, fertile soil

No ricochets of bullets wizzing by.

Turtles lazily bask in sunlight

Jumping quickly into the safe water

Raised voices scare them.

Each leaf glistens with light

A kaleidoscope of greens

Wind gently pressing against us

Watch

Enjoy

Breathe on this day

The air, the river, the dirt

Soldiers that made it home

Rest

Soldiers that did not

Everlasting rest.

Tea this morning

2022-05-30T05:58:00.000-05:00

Lemongrass, peppermint, lemon balm, rosemary.

Garden time

2022-05-30T05:00:00.003-05:00

A Society that Does Not Exist

2022-05-29T20:08:00.001-05:00

A society that kills its children is not a society.

I quake in grief for our loves lost to gun violence

They don’t trust us to protect them.

As they grow cynical, if at all

Asking us to do something

We tell them we will

We will raise our voices against

Evil

But our system says there is nothing to be done.

Our corporations say nothing

As long as production stays status quo, profits are high.

Our elected leaders scream that the other is to blame

Our mothers and fathers wonder if their child is next

Our unlucky ones bury their loves beneath the dirt

Or set them free to fire, leaving them to the wind.

A society that kills its children is not a society.

War on the innocent is barbarism, not civilization.

We fail as a nation because we our history is of

Genocide and Slavery.

Embedded in the history is war on our own citizens

A Wild West of sorts, inflicted on the innocent.

Lobbies of interests run this country into the ground,

Our elected leaders run to them for employment

When their time to serve is up.

No one questions this employer, this giver of funds

To political campaigns and pocketbooks.

Make the women have the children,

Then make them bury them a few years later.

Make them vote, make them work, convince them

Shopping will relieve their stress, lining wallets of

The rich already rich.

Where do the ones making positive steps for our nation

Get noticed for their good? Get to rule the land with their caring?

Why is it that the decrepit oligarchs say what happens to all of us?

Get the lobbies out of politics.

Focus on rehabilitating a nation sucked dry with virus and guns.

Ask ourselves what can be done about this backward state of affairs.

A society that eats its own like a death march to all our graves

Requires a rebirth from its dreadful, stained past and present.

A society that kills its children is not a society.

It is dystopia.

Next up on the reading list.

2022-05-29T17:12:00.003-05:00

Thankful for learning about this writer from writer Anne Helen Peterson's newsletter, who then introduced me to the deceased writer Richard Wagamese. Now I will be participating in the Blackfoot Writer's Retreat from this path of gifted wordsmith. I cannot wait. My summer will be full and bursting, like the okra and tomatoes coming up.

Ida is on the Agenda

2022-05-27T19:33:00.001-05:00

Lorde, the eloquent fighter

2022-05-27T19:27:00.000-05:00

I gain a bounty of wisdom when reading Audre Lorde. I feel her massively eloquent fight against sexism, racism, homophobia and even cancer give me confidence and power. I feel powerful reading Lorde. I feel inspired. Seen. I see her as a necessary voice to read when speaking of black woman liberation. She sees how we are far from invisible but invisible just the same. Our health, our freedom to exist in non-violent spaces, our right to love and be loved - she speaks our names in her texts and we stand on her shoulders as the forthcoming generations taking the next steps toward equality and justice.

Portrait Outside

2022-05-27T17:05:00.002-05:00

Groove to this, friends

2022-05-27T11:56:00.004-05:00

Orange is the color of the moment.

2022-05-27T11:39:00.001-05:00

Code

2022-05-27T11:35:00.008-05:00

The mosquitos came out today.

Late in the season, but ready to feast, nonetheless.

Where is my thick layer of fur to block the pestering?

I envy the animals at my feet with no care of such things.

Women dance in my mind, getting ready for solstice.

Communing with Earth Mother turning toward the sun

The hemisphere tilt in my favor.

I am full of sage, eucalyptus and cedar

Aspen incense and sunshine peeking through

Leaving media out today

Breaking the code of the moment, grief

Taking the steps of purification of my mind seriously

With a smudge that reminds me of the ancestors

Pulsating through my DNA

Pieces of my own code left on tree bark and leaves

As I pass by touching everything.

Young dawta’s latest

2022-05-26T11:00:00.003-05:00

Who is watching?

2022-05-26T09:31:00.003-05:00

With all this monitoring of the general public, cell phones recording our faces, our likes and dislikes, why do so many potential criminals and killers go unnoticed? Who are you watching? The dissenters to the madness or the madmen? Your surveys know so much but do so little. Your tracking says little of protection. More like selling shoes is the priority, not protecting children. It's distasteful. It's disgusting.

So little substance up high

2022-05-26T09:25:00.000-05:00

Gather up the little ones in a protective shroud

Protect them against the blasphemies of this country

Where their rights wash away when the guns speak their glory.

We are not animals that should huddle from fear of the madman.

We are not meat to be wasted, blood to be poured into drains.

We are humanity

Breathing, heartbeats drumming

Coming alive at that first moment sucking in air.

The young ones know so much pain as their rights mothers, grandmothers

Fathers, grandfathers fought so hard to gain

Washed away with the bigotry and ignorance

Of the 1 percent begging to hold on to all the resources

By decimating the general public

In a hail of bullets and restrictions.

Restrict the woman from choosing for herself what grows within her.

Restrict access

Restrict safety

Restrict bodies, say we are gaining momentum for the future

All the while hailing dystopian madness

That destroys us, the vulnerable.

Your laws are weak.

Your heart is cold.

We see you clinging to your riches, your power, your

Greediness.

You do nothing when the children enter heaven’s gates.

You swear that a heartbeat starts at conception but fail to protect

Heartbeats that won AB honor roll

Or want cereal for breakfast.

You want a working class

Enslaved to raise your babies and cook your food.

Any defiance and delineation of your ideas

Is met with a gun rally.

The power is in the people, not the masters

Clinging to the idolatry of themselves.

Your ways drag us down a spiral we declare unfit for ourselves

Our children.

Our safehouses, the schools

Are under attack

And your feeble attempts to make change

While children lay waste

Says to me you are Nothing

Of substance,

But words of prayers

And nothing of true substance.