THE FRIDA CONNECTION…
Friends. Please forgive me. You all know I’m a hot. Ass. Mess at the moment. Full disclosure; I’m easily distracted and as we continue our journey together, I hope you’ll learn to appreciate that about me. It’s actually part of my process.
I’m all over the place. I should be studying for the CLEP exam (I need two undergraduate math and science credits to obtain my New York City teacher certification); you’d think two masters and a bachelor’s would suffice, but then, considering the trajectory of my life-this is simply par for the course. And, of course what would this piece be without a little controversy–my trusty old Macbook air, which I’d come to rely on more than God, mysteriously sustained water damage over the course of a night and when I woke up ready to get busy, my babygirl was dead on arrival (speaking of dead on arrival, I’m gonna take the liberty here of blaming Wu Tang Clan for having the nerve to air their documentary “Of Mics and Men,” on Showtime when I’m supposed to be focused on getting some of that C.R.E.A.M for myself. If you are a fan of the Clan, you have to watch, it’s riveting, inspiring and tragic. Legends before their time. The industry desperately needs the “witty, unpredictable talent and natural gain” that innovative, creative and lyrically lethal Shaolin swords chopping! (Did you see what I did there? With the Witty unpredictable talent…? )
See? I told you I’m easily distracted. Ok, let me bring it back-and at the risk of sounding redundant, I apologize. Again.
So, this post is late-but as the title suggests, better late than never–something I need to adhere to. Giving up and letting go is not an option anymore. I’m committing to doing what I say I’m going to. This post should have been finished in April, when I saw the Frida Khalo exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum, but I’ve been kinda trying to get my life in order-and by that I mean binge watching Sex in the City re-runs, wondering where it all went wrong. Yeah, ok. I hear how that sounds, but in the show’s defense, I have to say that it really was ahead of it’s time.
Dang! i did it again.
This post is not about Sex in the City. It’s about how I made a connection between Frida Kahlo’s life and mine. I don’t know, bear with me. I’m finding connections all over the place lately.
It’s what happens when you’re lost.
So one of my best friends suggested we take a trip to Brooklyn Museum-I’m ashamed of the amount of time I’ve spent away-it’s been decades-but damn…what a transformation! And of course it’s not just the museum; Brooklyn is completely unrecognizable (shout out to #TheLast OG) don’t worry if you ‘ain’t catch on lol-I’ll be pluggin ‘it at the end of this post. Brooklyn has changed…
Back to Ms. Khalo. I’ll admit,I didn’t know much more about her than I did from the movie (that I didn’t see) but as a woman of color, I”m like (I know it’s bad-please don’t judge until you’ve walked a mile in these decade old Nike Cortez).
I know the story.
Isn’rt it always the same story?
She faced such devastation: she said I am the DISINTEGRATION…
My God. No. You were not. But still, I understand.
This is the plight of woman.
We disintegrate when we lose ourselves.
When we “fall in love.”
Look-I’ve gotta go. I sense this post, if I didn’t end it here might go on and on more than any person can take in one sitting. And I need y’all.
Another vow I’ve made to myself and my friends (readers) is to keep it short. Keep it simple. Because we can’t solve it all in one sitting.
That being said;
I’ll get back to you.