The Dayton Experience: Blues

Five minutes to get on stage???!!!!!

And I’m STILL en-route? ?!!!! I’ll never make it.  I’m going to bomb if I do make it.  This. Is. The. Worst. EVER!

That is just a sample of what was going thru my head, although I was verbally speaking little to nothing.  I was too flustered.  Things had gotten complicated in my head on a serious note.  I went from excited and ready to kill it, to nervous, excited and ready to stand up to the pressure of setting a bar for myself in a new city, to nervous about getting there on time, to feeling like I wasn’t going to make it, to just overall, damn near throwing in the towel.  At some point, a winner wins and a loser loses.  I didn’t know which I was anymore.  I left Indy feeling like I was TeamFirstPlacing, but suddenly, it was as if I had fallen and people were stampeding over me.  To say I was worried was an understatement.  The wimpy side of me that is still working on her toughening up skills, wanted to cry some more, but I had only shed a few tears in hopes that it would relieve some of the negative pressure that had formed around my poetic grace.  And it did.  But tearing up now didn’t seem like the thing to do.  We were passing “Convention Center” signs that we used to guide us the rest of the way, but I still had no idea were it was and with this additional pressure of being NEXT and still having to make it out the car, up to the third floor and backstage all in time, AND WE STILL WEREN’T THERE, I didn’t have the time to unnecessarily cry.  I needed what time I had left to clear my head of all the noise that was now occupying it.

Five minutes was all I could hear.  It was as if all around me had been muted and I was forced to listen to the replaying of “five minutes, you’re next” over and over again.  But somewhere, somehow, I mustered up just enough faith to whisper back into my head, God would not have brought you all this way to drop you from the sky with no wings.  Well it was something like that, I just added to it now.  It went more like God would not have brought me all this way for nothing.  Same thing.  Afer boldly running a few red lights, we made a turn and found it sitting on the corner.  Shout out to Anitra Malone for being my driver, dealing with the insanity that came over me while lost and doing all she could to pass uplifting and encouraging thoughts until we made it.  At one point she had to take some hits from her inhaler from us walking so much and so fast.  And running the red lights.  Boldy running the red lights I might add.  That’s love.  She put me out at the door and I hopped out, ran in as fast as I could in my 6 inch wedged Michael Antonio’s that were brand new and putting a brutal hurting on my foot life.  There were no elevators, or at least no time to search for them.  The cascading escalators it was.  And they were full of people, older people mind you, dressed to the nines and moving slowly.  I brushed past them all as I ran up the escalator and tried to do time in my head, pray AND clear my head all at the same time.  I got to the table on third floor and told them who I was, then went in to the back.  Everyone knew I was late.  It was on there faces.  The young lady that escorted me to the back was really nice.  We had to walk thru the auditorium, and even though it was dark, I just felt like I reeked of unprofessionalism.  How nice.  As I attempt to make this grand return to the stage and the mic and the life of a poet, here I am, and hour+ late and everyone knew it.  I got to the back and was greeted with enthusiasm to say the least.  Shihan was standing back there and it just added to my embarrassment.  It was like “look at the amateur walking in late” …..yeah I know…I created a thousand scenarios about what people were thinking of me, even though what happened was totally out of my control.  I couldn’t even remember what my contact Sierra looked like.  My mind was in between space and distance.  There was nothing moving in it but erratic thoughts, letters that used to be poems and sweat.  I was SO hot.  Mouth was ridiculously dry.  There was no water.  My heart was beating so fast, I didn’t know how I would perform.  Honestly.  All these factors worked together against me.  What if I got onstage w/o having the chance to calm down.  That meant I would run out of breath too much or have to swallow the nothingness that my saliva had  turned into, too often.  I was offered a prayer and accepted.  We went to the back, hand in hand, and did breathing exercises that turned into a call unto the most high for help and ease.  I had made it.  The hard part was over now.  Or was it?

There was no water and no time to run find a fountain.  I was about to perform as is.  I was dressed comfortably chic in a plain white thermal with a vintage dress jacket, some ripped jeans and my 6 inch heels that were giving my feet the blues just because.  I felt played down and chic.  I felt beautiful.  I also wore my gray hat to the side and of course some dope earrings that probably didn’t match but in my NEW IMPROVED non-matching way.  All in all, I got back stage with approximately 3 minutes, mayyyybe an extra 30 seconds, before my name was called.  It seems long in word form, but trust me when I say it was three minutes before showtime when I got backstage.  The guy asked me what I wanted him to say and I really didn’t know.  Although I prayed, I was still worked up….u know how they say “He may not come when you want Him to, but He’s always on time?” Well such was the case.  I believe in the power of prayer so I knew He was there with me and wouldn’t let me fall, but I was still worked up.   My heartbeat was still out of calm sync.  So I grabbed a seat for about 20 seconds and next thing I knew, he said “Give it up for januarieYork” …..it was showtime.

Nothing left to do but walk out now. 

Dayton Ohio Rhythm

Sound check was at 7pm.
Show started at 8pm.
I didnt know what time i was scheduled to go on, but i had already forewarned my contact that i would arrive shortly after 7pm due to my day job.....I think I had tweeted or maybe facebook’d the eery calm I had over me that day.  Usually I’m butterflied up and super nervous, but this day, I was chill the entire day.  I was excited, I was ready but I was calm.  unusually calm.  That kind of calm makes me nervous.
We got to Dayton right at 8pm.  I wasn’t too worried about missing soundcheck because I’m a poet….I don’t really NEED to sound check.  I can just back up or scoot closer to the mic; depending on which is necessary.  I had let my guard down.  We were ten minutes tops, and that includes time getting lost, from the venue.  I knew it was being held in the Dayton Convention Center.  We were on our way…until…..
red lights.
left lane…..right lane….both middle lanes…..there were red lights every where…..as far as the eye could see around the bending highway, brake lights were at a standstill.  This was unbelievable.  We were stuck in non-moving traffic.  I franticly begin to txt my contact to keep her posted, as this was my first trip to Dayton.  This was her first time seeing me perform live, and she was going solely off the word of a fellow poet.  Although she had been able to view a few videos online, I think she was still a little worried about bringing someone she didn’t know and hadn’t heard of, to a show as big as The Signature.  So I can’t say I blame her.  But on my end, the traffic was starting to stress me out and unravel my poetic confidence that I had managed to hang on, despite a semi-troubling conversation I had about messing up my poems.  That has always been a weak point of mine. 
In the car, we kept the conversation moving and laughing, while trying not to go too far in depth about the fact that we were not moving.  An hour later, after going approx. ONE mile, I convinced my “driver” to get off on the strange exit we were in front of.  We took it, found a main street, and I became relieved.  I sent a text and let my contact know I was back in route and things were looking up.  we got all the way downtown and missed one turn, according to GPS, and spent the next hour and half lost. 
Every time we asked for directions or sought help, we seemed to encounter only the non-hospitable people of Dayton, who would respond in ways that let us know if we were going to find where we were going, it would not be because of them.  One guy, after ignoring us for a few minutes, told us straight up, “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, and I ain’t telling you nothing.” Nuff said. 
We went to the wrong place twice.  The one person that did offer us help, helped us to the wrong building, but it wasn't her fault and at least she tried.  We got turned around, rerouted and confused.  In the doorway of one venue, which turned out to be the usual venue for The Signature, just not THIS night, I had to break down and cry.  I was embarrassed.  I didn’t want to make the person that brought me feel bad or feel like any of this was her fault, but the stress had hit a level inside of me that had me wanting to turn around and go home.  I had to let some of it out.  I just sat and cried real quick, stood up and left.  After speaking with my contact, whom I had just sent the text "we're here", we found out we were STILL about three streets over from where we needed to be. 
We tried again.  But once again, we were turned around and lost.  Come to find out, I had the wrong address in the GPS the entire time.  But even when I put in the Convention Center, we were taken thru a residential neighborhood, over a highway and back on the street we had ORIGINALLY arrived downtown from.  By then my contact was calling and she was frustrated and I could tell thru her voice.  I tried to keep my business face on, and to sound unlike the dumb blonde I felt like I looked like and told her what streets we were passing.  She suggested I ask someone for directions and it was all I could do to keep from screaming in the phone.  I’m so happy to be a mild mannered person who usually attempts to think about what she says before saying it.  In my head I was thinking “I’m not asking any more people from here for a damn thing!”….I was frustrated, I had broken down and felt defeated.  I expected to either wind up coming all this way for nothing or making it and bombing miserably on stage.  My mind was in a break fast scramble. And just when I saw signs pointing us towards the convention center, she told me I had five minutes to get there because I was on stage next.  Unknowingly, we were still about a mile away from the venue. 
It was official.
I had been thrown completely off my rhythm. 
And the blues were written all over my face.

(S)He Speaks: The Finale

(S)he Speaks: Hard Truth Thornton Dial Exhibit Cast (from l-r) januarieYork, M'reld Green, Georgia Me & Tasha Jones

It's been weeks now since the show....about two to be exact...funny...you work for so long, so hard on memorizing the poems and getting prepared for the show, both mentally and physically, and then BOOM! It happens...it goes so fast....the time speeds by, whereas only hours before, it seemed like a thousand days had passed while in anticipation.  But no matter the speed or the time stamp or the pumping adrenaline that shoots us thru the night so quick, it takes days to realize its all over, some of those moments are -
infinite

I was a bit melancholy about the Thornton Dial exhibit closing.  It was the final slice of cake; the topper or in otherwords, game over, operation: rely on memories time......it meant that the moment i was still beaming off of days later had actually come and gone already.....but that was true....somewhat....if some people are able to leave footprints on our souls, isn't a fair assumption to say some moments outlive us by lifetimes?  That night chart topped my list of "moments that will forever stick out", play by play mind you....i will never forget it....and i knew it....i felt so much pressure to nail this night.  Unlike I had ever experienced, i don't remember if i mentioned it or not in the other blog, but this night would mark the first time i had all of this in one place:
-family
-friends
-fans
-strangers
-people who i want to book me
-musicians
-multi-racial
and ....people i looked up/admire/was excited to meet

i was nervous....my outfit was long, too long in fact, so i had to grip each of the legs slightly when i walked to keep from tripping....i was nervous about tripping....but not as much physically as mentally...i had gone over and over and over this poem as much as humanely possible...i was disappointed in my meltdown, but i was more disappointed in the fact that i remembered a poem entitled "Parked Cars" that i was NOT trying to memorize better than i knew this poem....but i didnt have much time for that....i was second after tasha on the second go around....did i explain previously about Sunni Patterson???  Long story short, she wasn’t there and M'reld Green was….to say I was disappointed would be a bit of a lie because I was too excited and nervous to be disappointed about anything….i’ve learned the hard way that the show must go on, so I really didn’t possess the power to sit and be melancholy because Sunni wasn’t there….i just said to myself, we’ll perform together right when we are supposed to and kept it moving…fast forwarding:....it was my turn....
i walked out.....
i heard slight whispery cheers, which i took as the spirits of my people throwing all this wonderful energy to the room…I had already been out there once and left them pleased, but I did a no-brainer poem….it was time for the grand finale of my performance…the poem that had given me the blues, that I started writing randomly about 3 wks before the show….it started with one line: they say we are not artists, and my pen just took off….i hoped this poem would bring together two worlds, poetry and artistry, and mesh them into one piece about us being given the short shoulder when it comes to praising our work….i knew the poem…the entire poem was in my head….but …since I had been messing up every chance I got to rehearse, I feared the worse… i had to take it off my face that i was nervous, scared even...i couldnt let it show, couldnt let my legs wobble , didn't want to fumble the mic....but i did take a lil extra time messing with the mic....the acoustics were great, i didnt even need to be in front of it, but i ...i needed to be in front of it ; )
it was on....i rose my head up, as januarieYork, poet extraordinaire and took my place amongst my co-stars…..i inhaled, exhaled and slowly said: “they say we are not artist” …..i couldn’t see the poem in my head, which I usually can if I know it well enough…I can see it on the page as I go line for line, which can be a good or bad thing for my memory….this time, I saw nothing….i just kept it at a slow enough pace to be able to allow my memory to keep up with my lips, and fast enough to be delivered with power….as I got past each bump that had become my “troublesome” area’s, I internally heard a thunder of applause…..and then….i got to the end of the poem….the last few lines, the last stanza’s….piece of cake!!! Or so I thought....the line when:
“V for the Victory….we are displays of red splashes, yellow bursts of luminosity, burnt high heels and Mercedes benz emblems on fire, on canvass, we are artist, there is no more need to wonder….we are Hard Truth….ink rings on all ten fingers, and what God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”
After speaking “yellow bursts of luminosity” my mind pulled a blank out….i couldn’t remember it and I was NOT about to show it….i didn’t know it….and I was frustrated because it was the end of the piece and my favorite part of the poem….but it was blank….so I kept repeating we are Hard Truth in hopes that it would bring any one of those last lines back, preferably “there is no more need to wonder”…If I could have gotten that line back, I would have remembered the rest….but I couldn’t….and I wasn’t about to continue to mess up my poem with this freestyle rendition of repeating the same line, so I mentally gave up and shot straight down to “what God has joined together”….it was sad for me because I REALLY loved the line about ink rings being on all ten fingers, but it was gone as well….i scurried off the stage, fighting off my anger at my memory, caught a high five from one of my co-stars and caught the tail end of the cheers….seems like no one knew or loved it any less…..i was happy about that….but pissed about the fact that by the time I got to the green room, I remembered each line….but…such is life….it would NOT stop me from feeling what I was feeling….

Which was AMAZING…..GeorgiaMe complimented me again and butterflies went everywhere….the show was over shortly afterwards….Tasha introduced us all, explained what happened to Sunni Patterson, and brought me out first….it felt great….the room burst with applause and if you could have seen little Mario inside my eyes fighting the tears as I walked back out to take my seat on stage for the Q&A, you would surely call me a cheeseball…..we answered questions for about 20 mins…..and it was over….the blog is so long, I wont go into play by plays on the Q&A or all the hugs and power I received after we came off and even before we left the stage….but I will say this:

There is NOTHING in the world like knowing what you were born to do…
..there is something freeing about knowing your purpose…..but I’ve always been the underdog….in school, in friends, in life, just in general…I’ve often played the background, got the “well since she’s standing here” compliments…..i wanted to be friends with the cool kids, but I hardly was….i had my people and most of them were cool with the cool kids, but that hardly ever meant anything for me....i got dealt some interesting cards....always had just enough spades to win, but never knew how to play them and i dont mean people, i mean LIFE.... I’ve always gotten the last of the best so to speak….then where this poetry thing is concerned, I’ve played black light a lot….tending to only shine when other people turn all their lights off (or down)….but this night….was the night I was reborn in poetry ….i found my place…..found my rights….found my love again….geez it had been so long since I just FELT IT…..that night….i did…I felt covered in the essence of words, art, people, love and most of all, God…..it was priceless….i could keep going and going….but I’ll stop here by saying: (S)he Speaks: Hard Truth broke the IMA’s Saturday exhibit attendance records TWICE! We have been invited to N.Carolina’s exhibit as well as Atlanta’s exhibit.  ….its only the beginning…..

If I were the woman this year that I was last, I would blow this opp….but I am new woman every day….but this time, I am a determined woman….i am surrounded and ONLY want to be surrounded in successful people who know how to fall down and laugh their way back up…..i want to spend as much of the rest of my life smiling/laughing/living…..this one right here, catapulted me thru the end of the year in internal joy…..i thank the Lord above for my life, ups and downs….w/o it all, I wouldn’t know how much that night meant to me.
Its hard to believe it has passed already.
But luckily, its only the beginning.  Again.
To the top my lovelies!!!!
jY

Hard Truth (S)he Speaks Volumes: Pt 2 of 3

So where did I last leave off……oh yeah, I was walking in the door of the IMA about seven minutes late and a little worried that I was holding up the progress of the show.  I was not, however, they were looking for me and when I arrived the immediate relieved look that graced the women of IMA’s faces told a story of worry and wonder.  The bad part about that, is I was hoping to possibly make a good enough impression on these people that I would be on their list of people to contact in the future; but my lateness may have messed that up.  But what God has for me, is for me, and nothing can stop that….but me….but I digress.

so I walk in and immediately see people I know;  Allen Imagery was walking in my direction, Ja’net from Writeon was coming up the escalator, Eddie the Poet and Too Black were both standing by will call and there were a couple more faces that made my heartbeat speed up; as if I needed more of that….I gave as many hugs as I could and ran the long winding hallway to the Toby and was promptly escorted to the greenroom where Tasha, Georgia Me and who I thought was Sunni Patterson (there was someone in the bathroom but I didn’t know it was M’rald the poet instead of Sunni.  I told the ladies how honored I was to be there to perform with them and was told by Georgia Me or G.A.M.E. that she had been waiting to hear me!!!

Now was not the time to get all choked up so I kept my game face and fought the cheesy tears from dropping.  I looked at the set list and saw we were each doing two pieces, which shouldn’t have been a surprise seeing as though I was prepped for 7 minutes of speaking time.  But the problem was I had spent the greater of 2.5 wks entertaining this one poem I wrote for the show entitled Hard Truth (is) We R Artists.  No other poem had made the list.  I also didn’t have my proverbial list of memorized poems with me, so I had to zoom thru my brain for something befitting of why we were here and the crowd that awaited.  I immediately went to my default poem; “Poem Cry” ….I wrote this poem to compete in the IBE slam in 2007, which I never competed in of course.  Needless to say, I know this poem like the back of my hand.  This also gave me more time to run through my piece Hard Truth, that had given me all the stress before I left home.

to the hallway I went to practice.  I ran through P.C. as fast as I could, realized I still knew it and probably always would, and commenced to working on Hard Truth….again!  I think I was second or third on the first round, FIRST on the second.  My turn came so quick.  I hadn’t even removed half my butterflies before Strange Fruit was playing and it was time for me to get there and be one with the mic.  I had walked thru the audience to get backstage but didn’t really have a chance to take it all in; so I was pretty oblivious as to who all was out there and where they were.  I knew one thing though: this was a big stage and more than likely, the lights would be so bright that I wouldn’t see any faces in the audience, which would take away a lil pressure. 

there was no host….the show was continuously in motion, so the audience never knew who was coming out or when.  When I walked, I heard a few gasps.  I must say, I felt BEAUTIFUL! …I was initially supposed to be styled for the event by The Black Apple, but due to my car issues, I had to style myself, which was no biggie.  All I  knew was my brand new Ebay Betsey Johnson earrings would be my centerpiece and everything else would be worked around them.  I walked to the mic, adjusted it, felt less pressure because this poem was so easy to perform but looked up and immediately saw the first 4/5 rows of people!!! I saw my girls, my guys, ppl I didn’t know.  it was crazy….in my head, I said oh shit, I see everybody!!! LMAO…..I lit into my poem more slow and profound than I ever could and halfway thru it,  I had found my home in front of that mic….the audience was SO receptive and alive; it was crazy!!!

I didn’t know what to expect from them; would they be live, quiet, would they chant, stand, clap, make me stop….or would the crickets be on guard.   I got out there and felt ALIVE in my own right….the audience reimbursed every word I said with love and respect.  I gave probably THE best performance of P.C. ever!  And I have spit that piece hundreds of times….but last Friday, that piece belonged to Hard Truth.  I didn’t know what pictures were being displayed behind me, I didn’t know if my poem even matched the show, but I was doing it and I was gonna do it in a flawless victory just in case it didn’t necessarily “fit".  when I got to the end of it, I turned and left the stage holding my long ass pants and the cheers made me wanna turn back and run to the mic in tears and tell everybody how much I love them so.  it was priceless…..I left the stage thinking….I got this!  When I got to the side, M’rald, who was next, gave me the high five and told me I did great!  I cannot even begin to find the words to say how much that small comment weighed on my heart….FABULOUS! 

I don’t need people’s reception.  I don’t need the compliments or the praise, as I didn’t have it when I started.  this journey has been one helluva long ass journey with just as many downs as there are ups!  I’ve gone thru the poetic mud; I’ve been disrespected, I’ve won a slam fair and square, didn’t get paid and was left hanging, I’ve done the label thing, I’ve taken the handouts, the “oh yeah, you were good too’s”, the ignore buttons and the wow buttons!! I’ve had it all; the greatest of highs, I can say I have experienced as well as the lowest of lows.  But if ever there were a moment to prove to me none of it was in vain, it was friday.

So when I say G.A.M.E. telling me she had been waiting to hear me, and M’rald high fiving me and telling me great job meant a lot to me, I' mean it…..the most simple of things make my heart flutter because I am not superhuman….when I hit the back and Georgia and Tasha both reiterated the “good job” sentiments, I could have walked up to Heaven myself and kissed God!

but this was just the first poem. ….and not even the stressful one….I had one more round that I was eagerly anticipating and extremely nervous about.  …I spent the remaining time backstage before my second turn praying and rehearsing. …my heartbeat had not jumped off the fast track since before I left home…….so I finally sat down on a small step in the back and rehearsed and prayed and let my heartbeat return to normal. ….I drank water from the sink since the lady hadn’t returned with our bottled water…..then….before I knew it……it was my turn again…..only this time.

it was Hard Truth.

Final Pt 3 coming later!!!!

Hard Truth: The Experience, Pt 1

it was funny when I was reading the 30 Days Later post because on there, I mention this past fridy’s Hard Truth show, but at the time I wrote it, I had absolutely NO IDEA what was in store or ahead for me.  I didn’t know about Sunni Patterson or Georgia Me.  I had few details and was just excited to be performing at IMA!  I remember when I wrote it, I had this little voice in my head ask me was I even still apart of it because I hadn’t heard from Tasha about it in awhile.  But I knew if anything changed Tasha would let me know, so I wasn’t worried.  Heck, I was stoked!!!  I spoke with Tasha shortly after writing this blog and my poetic spirit has been on the rise every since.   

Friday started off on an extremely high note.  I had taped a flyer to my desk and had one sticking out of my photo holder.  I was receiving all kinds of love and energy from different people on Facebook; even some of my co-workers were giving me love.  I left work floating, I arrived at home on a sunken ship.  Over the previous weekend, my transmission finally went out.  Can’t say I didn’t see it coming so I’m not surprised.  But since I’m in nobody’s relationship and my mom is my neighbor, she puts on her mommy cape and takes me to and picks me up from scho- uh, work.  But friday, of all days, of all times, she wanted to take the scenic route.  And by scenic, I do mean visiting people!! We all live around each other; me and my mom are neighbors, my grandmother lives around the corner, my aunt (gmomma’s sis) stays next door to my gmomma and my dad lives two doors down from my aunt.  I know.  I’m the odd one out in this equation; I don’t belong over here, but another day, I digress. 

so as we are driving up the street, she sees my dads car, stops and talks to him for awhile, then my gmomma pulls up and drive to her house.  I know you are thinking why didn’t you just say “mom I gotta go.”  To that I say, you would just need to know my family dynamics.  The show started at 7.  I got off at five.  I usually get home at 530.  I had an 1.5 hrs to get dressed, practice a few times because I was worried about my poem that I worked so hard on, and get out the door via …how?  By the time I made it home, it was 6:15.  To them, a show is a show is a show.  I had 45 mins to do an hour and a half’s work.  I didn’t make it out the door until about five after seven.  Luckily I only live like a half a mile from IMA. 

but I didn’t make it without grief.  Once I got home, rushed in, irritaed, put the dogs out, grabbed my clothes, jewelry and shoes, jumped in the shower where I attempted to rehearse.  suddenly, I no longer new a particular set of lines that I had known all week long!!! I kept messing up.  I got out, tried not to worry, started getting dressed, doing hair and make up….see why I needed that hour plus??  I’m running around the house like a mad woman and my mind was too cluttered and I lost all that great energy I had owned since I awoke that morning.  The lines were lost.  I couldn’t help it.  I burst out crying.  I was disappointed in myself; couldn’t understand why my brain was attempting to set me up on stage when soooo many ppl would be there…..family, friends, fans, strangers, GEOGIA ME, SUNNI PATTERSON, people I want to book me, I mean the list went on and on.  I was nervous and couldn’t remember my lines.  I cried so much, my eyes turned red and after I put my make-up on, it looked like I had pink eye on both sides.  it made more tears fall.  I was stressing.  And disappointed in me that I had even allowed it to get to me like this.  How dare I get this close and act up like this.

….so….I had a drink*; I NEVER drink before a performance.  I just want it to be totally me that you get. Drinking makes my nerves bad before getting on stage.  it comes out in my performance.  But I had to calm down a notch.  so I had about the equivalent of a shot of Moscato.  I’m embarrassed to admit it but, I needed to dial it back for real.  it helped a little.  I didn’t rehearse anymore.  My ride came, dropped me off at the door and I walked in.  But what I walked in on, made it worse.

TBA *since clearly this is still too damn long

   jY

30 Days Later- Eat.Pray.Love.LIVE

Eat.Pray.Love.LIVE.

My 1^st 30 Days Review

So approximately one month ago today, I began a self appointed journey that I was driven to try, my own way, from reading an article in Essence Magazine that spoke of doing your on EPL journey.  For me, this journey came without explanation.  I didn’t know what I wanted from it or what I hoped would happen while on it, I just knew I needed a change and I needed to get closer to God.  I had lost my passion for writing….or maybe I lost my passion for performance seeing as though writing is something I never stop doing.  I didn’t know and to be honest, still don’t know, who I could trust, who my friends versus my foes are and why I was so caught up in caring about either.  I missed my sister in Atlanta.  I missed the days we just went driving for no reason and don’t have anyone I do that with.  I was suffering from nostalgia.  I missed Fighting Words;  I missed that camaraderie.   I missed the road, I missed the stage, I missed me.  Then I suck at being a part of a family, so I needed to work on that and more than all those things, I just wanted to grow as a person.  I wanted to learn more about what I love to do (writing/poetry);  I wanted to read more, laugh more, experience love in other ways from other avenues and I wanted to most of all, LIVE.  Something I toggle with doing despite the fact that I am alive.  I wanted to change.   So I embarked on day one, not knowing what would be different about it or what would happen.

Initially meant for one month, I extended this journey thru summer’s end around the first two weeks.  I saw the procrastination in me rearing its ugly head and decided that the disclipline needed to make this successful for my life, would take longer than the 30 days.  So with that said, I am going to do a recap of moments that stood out or meant the most to me:

1. I reinvented hanging with myself.  Never been one to not do something because I didn’t have a “plus 1” to do it with, I had started to lose that side of me.  I have thrown so many parties and hosted so many ladies nights, that somehow I think I started thinking everyone was my friend, when I knew damn well everyone wasn’t.  I started feeling like I needed someone there with me to do what I wanted to do; which I don’t.  I would miss out on shows and events I wanted to attend because no one was interested in doing these things with me.  That also started making me bitter.  As if, why the eff don’t people ever want to do some of the things I want to do when I so often do things with them that I on my own would not take part in, like movies for example.  I hate the movies.  This was something I was able to admit to myself while on this journey.  I don’t like going to the movies and a movie has to be something I REALLY want to see in order for me to go.  But I have often bypassed that to do with people what they wanted, but felt that reciprocated less often than fair.  But that’s ok.  I have attended several events/shows by myself again in the last 30 days.  I didn’t even ask people to go, I just took care of me.  And each time, though it would have been fun to have someone to whisper my thought of the moment to, I enjoyed myself nonetheless.  I’m back to lunches and dinners by myself, walks in the artistic broadripple or drives to no where with the music blasting.
2. I have spoken up about a few things:  known to keep my silence this is one I’ve been working on all my life.  I attended the Kools Bazaar show and ordered Crème Brulee…that shit was horrible…..for the first time in my life, I sent my food back and refused to pay for what I didn’t like.  And it worked with no problems.  I also had some issues with some people, nothing big, but I spoke up in my defense about it.  Something I am such a rookie at.   There are several other small stories that may mean nothing to mankind, but are gigantic steps for me personally and I must say, I am proud!
3. I took control of my writing career and poetry career.  Since taking that control, I am gearing up for a great show in September at the IMA’s Toby Theater with Ms. Tasha Jones, I am gearing up for my secret invite only cd release party (more on that in a sec) and I have started “freelancing” as a review writer for a local blog and a writer for Midwest Leak magazine.  These opportunities don’t put any cash in my pocket but they provide a door opening and the experience I need to continue to be successful.  I have also started a fashion blog designed to show women how easy it is to feel beautiful daily and change the way your energy flows. 
4. I’ve been blessed with a variety of things that have proven to me that the time is now for my cd to be released….everything I wanted or needed has started raining down in my lap again.  It has happened before, and I stood up and let it all fall out…this time, I understand better.  I have been blessed with a befitting venue, as well a few other things that mean the world to me and continue to prove the time has come.  I learned that I didn’t want to do a big production.  I don’t trust people to come to be honest.  (I’m learning to express more honesty with self).  So I decided to make it an invite only event to be shared with the people who I am either that close to or those who I know have been anticipating this moment almost more than me.  And for them, I have something very special planned.  All this and more at the end of this journey. 
5. I’ve dwindled my savings back down to the red zone.  Not a part of the plan, but something I just thought about and wanted to add in here so when I re-read this, and I will, I will be reminded that money spending discipline needs to be practiced during the next month.  However, I did get a television; something I have been in dyer need of.
6. I’ve cut out people.  The unnecessary people.  Not all of them yet, but little by little, I have learned that sometimes you open yourself up to people and people move on.  People grow old of you or find better people than you.  Whatever the case, dead weight is dead weight whether it’s a lover or a friend and im learning that regardless of what I wish or remember, some relationships don’t outlive their memories.  And im cool with that.
7. I’ve been blessed with Jill Scott (new cd) Beyonce (new cd); the re-release of Alicia Keys (songs in A minor) as well as a Sade concert (I completely missed John Legend to my extreme disappointment) and she was just priceless…no better way to say it; I am gearing up for Cirque Du Soleil in a few weeks, Kings of Leon shortly afterwards and to top it all off and to end this journey a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico.  This is called LIVE.
8. I got a new facebook to get away from all the noise and commotion that was going on, on the other one.  I just felt so disconnected which was quite the irony considering I was connected to over 1000 people.
9. I attended a golf outing and dinner at Live Casino with my job.  I just can’t explain how that made me feel.  Real cheesy but fabulous on the inside. 
10. I changed my name and decided shortly after saying it would be used for literary purposes, decided that not only was my name now januarieYork and I don’t care what anybody says, thinks or how often I get compared to P.Diddy, in addition to that, januarieYork would be my name. period.   Even if I am on stage.  nSAYchable has run her course and been run out the building.  And since I want to continue building and she started to tear it all apart, it was time she get laid to rest next to Butter.  Will people still call me nsay?? OF course, just like they still call me B or Butter, but in due time, it will be phased out.  Change is necessary.  Will I change my name again? Heavens no!! Was this absolutely necessary and unavoidable.  YES!

Things I need to work on for the next 30 days of Eat Pray Love LIVE.

-praying daily – this one is taking so much discipline to get right, it makes no sense

- posting less on facebook if it has nothing to do with my career; I have a blog and twitter for that

- saving money

- finishing up the final touches on La Douleur eXquise

- working within my community

- buy me a ring for my left hand – THIS JUST IN!!! I just discovered a diamond missing out of the ring I have worn on my left hand for the last 6 years.  I have two rings I wear every day. One is my grandfathers ring on my right and one was a gift years ago.  I am just in this moment realizing, after seeing this diamond gone, that it is time to let go completely.  This ring has a bit of significance to it, actually a lot.  But its time that it lay next to the gifted bracelet that was given to me a year before the ring.  Maybe in my book, you’ll read the story about the bracelet and how that Christmas turned out to be the most unforgettable and worst Christmas I have EVER experienced in my life.  Its time to get this ring off my hand, esp off my left hand.

- procrastination – this has got to go….maybe later ; )

- loving ME, MORE.  There is no way you can love yourself too much.  The more you love self, the less you allow outside factors to bring unnecessary pain to your life.

That’s it for now.  Thanx for reading (or not….cue *crickets*).

Red Carpet Ready.Set.Go!

Sometimes you wake up and want to experience life in Hollywood.  Maybe you live in a rural area where crazy wolves and fox roam free.  Or maybe you stay right off 38^th street where gunshots are frequent and poverty pisses you off.  Perhaps you stay right around the corner from the rich; so close you can taste the smell of their BMV Hybrid smoke.  Whatever the case, sometimes you just want to zone out.  You want to get away from it all, throw on that outfit you never get to wear, enjoy life in the moment and feel like you are in Hollywood; like a celebrity!  And why not, you are!  

            Well my dear Vogue ladies and gents, I bring you “The Paparazzi Red Carpet Event!  Fashion just got “high.” This event, put on by the team of various stylists behind “Paparazzi Ready”, was nothing short of fabulous.  Full of energy, great MC (Coryon), captivating entertainment, shoe and accessory vendors and what else but fabulous fashion!!  With flyers circulating that promoted a live, streaming red carpet and warned of fashion police, everyone appeared to take the notice serious and dressed like this event would later be aired on the E! Network.  The red carpet outside provided that Hometown Hollywood vibe, with the fancy background, news correspondent and camera flashes everywhere.  Inside, the VIP section was roped off in front, but the side areas, full of booths and tables, made for great views of the field goal shaped stage. 

       

     The room quickly filled to a crowd of bold metallic colors and one of a kind dresses; 5 inch stilettos with KY Derby hats and perfect fitting slacks with simple dress shoes.  Fellow local poet, Jus Will, opened the show dressed in two piece get up that was a poem by itself and professionally spit a piece about his personal style that made us blush a little, laugh a lot and above all, give up mad respect.  The tone was set.  Coryon kept the crowd pleased with the easiness of his spirited and fun personality.  Once the show got started, within ten minutes of the actual start time (which is great btw), the models owned the room.  The male models glided out in smooth rhythms, ready for either Jazz at the Park or the tennis game.  It has officially been proven, if never before, that black men can indeed look good, be fresh and comfortable, all in one outfit, with pants pulled up!  But I digress.  The women, dressed like delicate diva’s, posed like rockstars while awaiting their turn to walk the plank.  Once on the floor, each model smized hard enough to touch tyra and strutted in high stiletto’s like they were each the inventors of the runway!!!!  It was fabulous, the music was perfect and the additional performances kept any chance of monotony at bay.  One performer, the violinist Ms. Ro Broaddus, left the crowd speechless with her string performance of Kanye West’s All of the Lights; intro AND full song! There was also a hip hop performance towards the end that ensured everyone was still hype and prepared for the grand finale, which was as flawless as the rest of the show.  And of course, Coryon continued to keep us full of a joking spirit.

 For an affordable price, all of us fashion and entertainment enthusiasts were treated to an evening of Hollywood flair, right here at home.  Everywhere I looked people were laughing, chatting it up and looking stunning!  38^th Street police sirens or packs of roaming wolves were left stuffed in our dressers at home. No one was thinking about money woes or work in the morning.  On that Sunday night, we were all celebrities in our own right.  We looked and supported the part.  We took pictures, had pictures taken of us and saw women and men, who looked and were created like us, moving across the runway as if walking was an art form.  So what if we can smell the rich people up the street?  Look at us!  We are fabulous.  We are beautiful.  Heck we are couture!  And that night, we were Red Carpet Ready!

*Paparazzi Ready is a fashion style team, ready and available to help YOU find/get/own your style.  It consists of a team of barbers, stylists, make-up artists and fashion experts.  Find them at paparazziready.com and let them bring you into a world of Milan right inside your own walk in closet! 

***Editors Note (lol): this blog was written, as a part two, to a fashion show review i published for "i'mjussayin's tumblr account.....this review will eventually be posted on that blog, as well as my blog, but for now, i wanted to get it up and out....why? because i wrote it, so i own it and i can do with it what i please.....lololol...but really because, no never mind, that was the real reason.