Been a while. now I'm Back | About last weekend

March 21, catching up

I was searching for online journal building websites. somewhere I could type out my thoughts instead of writing them in journals with the kinda hope that I'd someday have the energy to transcribe my favorite ones and share them with people I know. I have a duffel bag filled with journals I've written. Of those and the 100s of pages I've filled, I've only shared about 20.

I remembered this wixsite I made in Costa Rica. I started it as a place to blog about my experiences travelling around the world during undergrad, but I'm now coming to terms with the fact that if I do not make time for it, it never gets done.

I woke up at 4:30am today. I wasn't tired even though I'd only gotten 3 hours of sleep. I was comfortable wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, running my fingers over the lint on our grey comforter. I stared at the window for 15 minutes. I wanted more. The shower helped me like I thought it would. I'm glad I waited until the morning because the steam had the time to loosen up my hair product and bring my curls back to life. once out the shower, I put my hair into two puffs, and put on the simplest outfit I thought of first. By the time I left it was just after 5. shit. I was running late. As long as I was running towards this it was fine. I'd make it to praise and worship.

something about my first words of the day being words of gratitude, something about speaking positivity over my life and the lives of people who have and still do pour into me. 5am, I decided at midnight, is time for praise and worship.

That decision and about 15 more I made for this week. and hopefully the rest of my life. To take time for the things I've been feeling to explore. These are the things like language learning, fiction writing, practicing the bass and re(learning) saxophone that always take my imagination on an afro futuristic safari ride through the next 10 years where I am a master at Spanish, interviewing artists at music festivals in Cuba, Venezuela, and Spain and Shinto experimental artists in Japan. In this future, I'm also an acclaimed screen and playwriter, an animator, and voice over artist, an educator, a community storyteller and a music therapist.

This future is exciting to think about! By in the ever afterward, my heart sinks and I let out a heavy sigh. if I want these things, I have to make time for them. At present (as in this point in time in life) that's a tall order. In the midst of BTBSN and CCCADI I'm like where? where do I make/find/glue together the time?

This past weekend was different. Like really different. There were about 3 times I could see the anxiety vision, and curling up in submission wasn't a thought I entertained for 2 minutes. I wish I could live in the mental space of this weekend forever. but there is more. it started on Friday with Kingfish Ingram and the 2022 Sunstar Festival.

Chanel Blanchett sent out an email e-inviting all Black Femme Artist Incubator Fellowship applicants to come to the festival. I got access to two tickets for each night of the festival. So I copped them bbys, but that Friday, which was the Festival's opening night was also the night I planned to go see Kingfish Ingram at the Carnegie Library of Homestead with Eszquire.

Given recent events, next steps were obvious: share them with Ishara who is now Senior Creative at BTBSN. That way she can document the night for content and network with artists. It was a great plan, but instead of sharing this with her on Wednesday, I told her about it on Friday morning. Normally this would be anxiety inducing, and it was. but I as struck with the thought: if I never ask her, she'll never have the chance to say yes. aaaaand she said yes! it was set! We all left for our evenings that Friday, around the same time. but not before me and Eszquire swinging home to drop off a sativa pre-roll and well wishes for the night.

Eszquire was tired. On top of that we shared a sleepy time edible before leaving the studio. He still came out to the concert. Before we left I began to get irritated. it started in his office, while sighing and packing a joint he mentioned how tired he was and how much he needed a vacation. I felt something in me snap. I got up to make sure everything else in the studio was turned off so that we could leave as soon as he was done. "Doesn't he see this vacation, these vacations I've tried to take him on? to organize? the finances I've been trying to pull together and at times have only for him to say "no" "now's not a good time?" LOL reading that back now I feel like I can see how unreasonable I was being, but in the moment, just an hour away from the quickest vacation I could pull together I was annoyed. and because it was 30 minutes after we said we'd leave and we were still at the studio. When I came back into the office, Eszquire noticed my frustration, He took my face in his hands and asked me what was wrong. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to cry, so I said something, 'I feel frustrated because you're always so tired and wanting to take a vacation, but when I try to plan one you reject me and I was afraid that you were getting ready to tell me to go by myself. We held each other for a few moments, standing in his office. That's not what was happening. That was anxiety, Eszquire was tired, but he was also excited to go to this concert with me. I trusted that and needed to come back to it only once, when I heard Eszquire snoring beside me on one of Kingfish's last songs. lol

Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh's auditorium was beautiful. I want to call it Ionian, but its really just the cream color of the walls and the details that make me want to use this word. some type of old world European, with something old American school house about the wooden, polished seats and something otherworldly about the sound. We came in in the middle of Maggie Rose's set. Her sound was a mixture of country, blues, rnb, rock and gospel. Her vocals were powerful. The sound of the drums beat on the center of my chest, the bass controlled the flow of water in my stomach. For a minute it was too loud. so loud, it was soaking up the water from my mouth. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I looked back at the door a few times, thinking about dipping out to regain composure. I thought about the Lion King and decided against it. No one else is having a heart attack rn, and I'm high so I'm probably fine. and I was.

When Kingfish came on, i wasn't sure what to expect. The crowd hadn't filled out anymore since Maggie Rose. Our Balcony seats were upgraded to floor ones, I think given how few people there were. Kingfish is a big black man, from Mississippi, with an ear and a heart and soul for the blues and wicked talent on the guitar. What struck me most about him were the sonorous quality and texture of his voice and his facial expressions while he solo'd. Free. The way his face would twist up, his mouth hang open and eyes squinting as if on the edge of ecstasy. Seeing that freedom did something to me. Kingfish took his guitar solos on a walk through the audience. goals.

Eszquire said Kingfish reminded him of himself when he was bigger . Said it was a gift that only someone who really knew him could give him. That made my heart soar. When I saw him, I noticed how few of him I'd ever seen on stage. A big black man, under the spotlight, shredding, singing and sweating and being free. I noticed what it did to me seeing him on a YouTube video, talking about his roots and playing his guitar, knew what it did to me seeing him perform live in another video. a sound that makes you go "that guy right there is the truth" and I wanted to share it with Eszquire. put him smack dab in the middle of the row to see, to hear to feel.

Yesterday was our first band practice. During Gospel Shed Sessions Eszquire, Ishara and I will be practicing the organ, lead and bass guitars. We'll rotate based on certain songs that we hear and feel different instruments on. Eszquire recorded it on his phone. First we tuned then we leaned where Aflat, and Eflat were. Then we solod while eszquire held down the mids. It was great!. After shed, Ishara stayed in the music hall practicing. she began fingering a song I recognized but could not name.

At first, not realizing the band concept applied to gospel shed I was anxious. this wasn't what I was expecting. Yesterday was a day I just wanted to sing out to stretch beyond limitations. yesterday those limitations were the apartment that I didn't leave until it was near dark. those limitations were the output for our collective sake and so little for me personally, and even on the Lord's Day. Those limitations were my silences and long pauses and awkward interjections. I wanted to sing and run from it all. a SPACE to be. and I didn't get that. At first it felt like a crowd like all the walls in my life closing in on me and no one caring because I do not own either place, just live there and concerned with doing my part to be there.

Consolation? Two weeks ago taught me that Gospel Shed sessions aren't only for me, but every time we have one, there is something in it for us and for me. PLUS. not having the time to just be, or feeling that way rather, is what caused me to decide to get to the studio today at 5am. is what pushed me to make the time to do the things I want to, to create the space and glue together the time for me to just be. Praise Be!