I Thought So

So . . . wait... the world is now in an uproar, panties in bunches, pearls clutched, words like appalled, disgraceful, etc. etc. bandied about in light of the uncovering of wait for it . . . sexual abuse in the workplace! OMG... who knew? Well for starters black folk . . . for forever, or for at least as long as it's been since they dragged our asses over here--black women in particular. Black women have been objectified every which way but the right way. We've been touched, cornered, called out of our name, raped, maligned--you name it and it's been done to black women. Where is the outcry,the news reports, the faces on television, the outrage about our pu$$!&$ being grabbed? Now, don't get me wrong, sexual assault is abhorrent no matter who it happens to and the pricks need to be brought in front of a jury of their peers--all women--and be dealt with.  My issue is, why is it that there is only action and outrage when shiit happens to white folk? A whole heap o

So  I was thinking . . . with all the ish that we are bombarded with on a daily basis and go through varying degrees of outrage . . . We have been so overloaded on outrage that its hard to distinguish what new atrocity to get behind or not, what hashtag to end our sentences with., what protest to march on, what cause to send our hard earned dollars  In the meantime, while we become consumed by the alternative reality that has sucked the country into a vortex of surrealism, and the real and present danger is behind the curtain of distraction,  I have to ask what is the politically correct protocol for the length of time to be outraged before we move onto the next atrocity?  #ithoughtso

I had not thought about it much, not in a visceral sense until the question was posed: what object holds emotional significance? It wasn't my wedding ring as I have no clue where it is, which I'm sure suggests something in itself. I do not possess heirlooms per se, but the watches that I was bequeathed from my aunt and my nana are both safely tucked away. So what is it? Although I never spoke of it aloud or put the thought of it on paper, I understood that a recurring theme in my life, in my work and often in  my dreams is brownstones. It rests there on the fringes of my consciousness (like the gray ball in Sula , only not as a ominous one) ready to be that devoted pup that sits at ones feet waiting for a command. My stories are peppered with brownstones. Anyone who is anyone in my novels live in brownstones or has a friend that does. I love stories that have brownstones in them, or a brownstonesque feel to them and I love telling others that I grew up in one--four storie

It has been a very long time since I posted to my blog. When I took a look at it, I discovered that it had been 3 years since my last post! How could that be? But time does fly. However, in scrolling through some of my older posts one that stuck out was one where I questioned if I had anything worthwhile to say, and equally important was it worthwhile to anyone else? Hmm, I realized that as a writer, I always question the value of my words. But I also have realized, especially, lately that I do have stuff to say. So I decided to start anew, with a clean slate. Each day we are assaulted with one traumatic turn of events upon our senses to the next. From every corner there is drama and trauma.The  state of our world effects me greatly on so many levels and I believe that as a writer, it is a responsibility to write and if my words strike a cord or opens a door to dialogue great. If not, that's okay, too. But here I will get to write about the things that trouble, surprise or