COLORFUL WOMEN THOUGHTS AND STORIES - SERIES 5
Words Are Beautiful While putting this collection of drawings and stories together, my intrigue for letters and words as art came through. Our technology is wonderful. We can quickly communicate with each other, share things with super speed, laugh together. But the old-fashion pencil to paper; words, written with pen, creating an image and a message that is unique to the writer and a gift to the one who receives it, has been taken away. I wanted to delve back into some old school and mix it with Colorful Women. Series 5 of Colorful Women Thoughts and Stories is about the power and beauty of words and how we can express ourselves with them creatively. Read and Enjoy.
LOVE DETROIT - MISS BROOKLYN This is not where I want to be today. Brooklyn is calling me. Brooklyn, Brooklyn, I miss you. It’s been three years, and I know that you are not the same.Your folks are coming to my Motown to capture something they say no longer can be found in your streets and caveats. But I remember what you gave me. Bed-Stuy, while waiting on the subway, my newly cut tresses making me feel raw, ugly and liberated. I kept touching my crown thinking my hand could hide my insecurities. The train rolled up, the doors open and I sat. Then she sat next to me. Everything about her was beautiful; her lips, the way she wore her headphones, her clothes that matched with nothing and everything. Her hair. I touched my head again and looked down. She turned to me and leaned over. Her left earplug slowly fell down her shoulder. She said to me with a smile, “I love your hair.” I relaxed into my skin and saw myself with fresh eyes. Maybe I am beautiful. Maybe I am. I love Detroit. It is in my DNA, but Brooklyn liberated me.
BALLOON Floating above Connected to the world Only by a string and your hand You look down at your feet, wishing you could fly then You looked up and with a mischievousness grin you released it to the blue sky. It will travel in your place - but where will it go? Well first, it will sail over the suburbs where everything is the same boring; tracking its way to the more exciting locations of the world. Maybe to Ghana’s Accra or Egypt’s Alexandria. London? Everyone goes there Paris? It must go there Berlin? Maybe there Havana? Yes Havana You wish it adieu and pray that it sees it all before it burst.
NEVER This word can hurt. I will NEVER like you that way I NEVER want to see you again I NEVER loved you And it can heal. I NEVER loved you more than I do now I’ll NEVER leave you I’ve NEVER been so happy The word has the power to push. NEVER quit NEVER give up NEVER doubt yourself That word can be cliche. Never say never.
THIRSTY How brilliant would it be to walk up to a person you adore and tell them so, not caring about their reaction, only caring that you were truthful? How extraordinary to say, I like you and not have anxiety and fear from anticipating the other person’s response. What’s wrong with that?
Why can’t I say, “Hey, I like you and want to spend time with you?”
That kind of honesty gets you labeled as desperate and thirsty.
The world is damaged when openness in thought, and emotions; telling someone you like and love them is shamed and ridiculed.
Thirsty? Not me. Daily, I stay open to
THE GRAM I don’t wanna talk much or share much. But now and then, I need others to know I exist. Love me, agree with me. Like my post. 2 likes, 8 likes, 17 likes, 39 likes! I just need 11 more likes and then I know I am important.
A NOTE TO RAF Remember the letters we wrote while you traveled abroad? The late phone calls about life, men, spirit. Oh. Remember being on the phone the day I got dumped? I remember the day I got the message your mom’s passed. The adventures we had from college to womanhood. I wish I could take back that one day, the one sentence that stopped it all. Maybe we would be on an adventure right now. Maybe I could still play hide and seek with your little one. Either way, I love you. I love the years we had as friends and always hope we will be friends again.
NINA 11:13 I parked. It was quiet. I turned the car off and sat listening to the nothing. My shoes sat in the seat next to me. I didn’t need them anymore. I slowly walked barefoot to the house looking for the key to stick in the door. Two turns and a hard shove and the door open to darkness. I’m home. The tightness in my shoulders and face released and with one hand I switched on the lamp. The other, the record player. Nina was playing. I closed my eyes, taking her in. Oh, Nina, you understand the night I’ve had. I hear it in your words, the rasp of your voice.You know how I feel. Let’s forget this day and start over.
THE WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL Hunger, poverty, police brutality, war, human trafficking, slave labor, hurricanes, smart phones, racism, us against them, us, them, lunatic leaders, opioid, heroin - In spite of it all, your existence make this world beautiful
YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE (LITTLE ONE)
You look like your mom, your grandmother, and uncles. I mistakenly calling you “Junior” thinking you are the ones before. Just a few years ago, your mom sat in my lap, as you are now, looking at herself in the mirror, smiling inquisitively. And now, here you are. Oh, my little one - live well.
KIDS Hey Hey Whatcha doing? Writing Writing what? Poems Poems? About who? Me? No, but I could. Yes? How would it go? Hmm. It would start with something like... Questions, questions, questions. Always asking questions.
END OF THE DAY Come, sit next to me. Quietly No words exchanged. My head falls on your shoulder Yours fall backward releasing the angst of the day I breathe you in My arm slowly wraps around your waist You moan with pleasure Giving into the warmth and love between us
I WANT I want you to know that you are beautiful. I want you to know that you are capable of anything. I want you to know that I think you are sexy,. Did I take that too far? Look. I know, I know you feel that I do not really know you, but should that matter? I am not trying to imprison you; capture you, make you mine. What make you, you is that you belong to no one. I want to experience you. Your beauty, your friendship, your openness, your love.
MIXED UP Five years and I cannot bring myself to write about you. Not in detail or truth. Each word aches, tears, bleeds and destroys. The worst part of it all is that there are moments, too many, that make me smile and still love you.
Colorful Women is a series of illustrations and paintings of women. Through color, shape and the use of the human female figure, this series’ objective is to open viewers eyes to feminine beauty that is beyond the curves, clothes, make up and teased hair. These images convey a beauty that comes from the colorful nuisances of women’s personalities, emotions, and experiences. WWW.DMJSTUDIO.COM/COLORFULWOMEN
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