Tag Archives: Beloved

Someone Should’ve Called Me

August 5, 2019

I woke up late this day. It’s not clear to me right now how it was revealed to me… I’m sure if I sat in mediation and thought about it things would come back. But, thinking about this day still make my nose sting. You know that sting that happens before your eyes water…

I woke to the news that Toni Morrison had passed. I was heartbroken. I felt like she left me, like she should’ve had someone call me to let me know she wasn’t feeling well. No, we didn’t have a relationship like that but… she had been with me all of my adult life and so I just thought… I guess I thought she would stay around like the books on my shelf. Am I making sense?

I had just been in contact with her production company this past summer for private screenings of her movie in Atlanta, “The Pieces I Am”. The movie that has the wings to change the process of writing just as her books change people as readers and thinkers. I had just bought her book, “The Source of Self-Regard” as my summer reading as I traveled. I…. cried. I just flat out cried. I, like the world, felt the energy shift. It went from powerful to immensely powerful with her transition.

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On social media, I had seen several of my friends attend memorials and remembrances celebrating their artistic experiences with Morrison. I was speaking with a friend and expressed how I had not had the opportunity to mourn, laugh, share my love of Morrison in an intimate setting. She offered her studio space for “Tea with Toni”.

img_20190922_2218308170029858474793464.jpgWe got together and shared our favorite characters and passages from her books. I read from “Sula” and had time permitted, I would’ve shared my favorite pages from “Song of Solomon” when Milkman received his nickname. (that is some good writing!) It was so serene to be around other creatives who needed this space to discuss such an important literary figure, the Pulitzer Prize winner author, Toni Morrison. A genius wordsmith. The sole creator of language(s) for the preservation of humanity, communities and black women. She fearlessly showed the world our beauty. Shared with the orbits our sweetly spiced tongues.

Mother Toni, we see you smiling

we see those fingers pressed together for rhythmic snaps / grooving.

Thank you for everything and all!

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Happy Birthday Toni Morrison!

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Boundary eradicator. Folklore Queen.
Happy Birthday to Nobel Prize winning author TONI MORRISON.

B-E-L-O-V-E-D | hip hop

motherandaughterthinking

 

I remember when the Nobel Prize winning book, ‘Beloved’, was made into a movie.   I was relieved I was finally going to be able to understand what the book was talking about.  Like other Morrison fans, I understand that to indulge in one of her books you have to completely abandon yourself and become involved in the art.  ‘Beloved’ was one of those books I had not been able to finish because I found it too complex.  Or maybe it wasn’t complex at all, perhaps it was the direction that didn’t allow me to finish the book.  I remember the narrative being very haunting when it spoke to me.  There were times in the book when it spoke directly to me and I felt like I had to protect or defend for myself.

The other day when riding in my car, my 12 year old niece wanted desperately to listen to a hip hop radio station.  Even though the language is altered to be radio ready,  I cannot stomach the majority of the new hip hop music today.  I agreed to let her change the channel from my jazz station and we began to listen to a song, “hit her with a left, hit her with a right, I’mma knock her out like fight night!” (those aren’t the exact words but definitely the intent and close to it).  My niece knew the words and sat happy smiling and bouncing in the passenger side dancing to the song.

When we got home, I got on the internet and pulled the song up.  I called my niece in my room and let her hear the real lyrics, “hit her with a left, hit her with a right, I’mma knock that p*ssy out like fight night!”  The expression on my nieces’ face changed solemn.  It was a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment.  Needless to say, I was pleased to see that the narrative disturbed her and she didn’t want to listen to the whole song.

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