It really irks me this idea that the only truly virtuous way to love someone is without conditions. As if real love means that you stick it out through any and all circumstances. But in loving someone else, love for self must also be included. If you have to sacrifice yourself to love another you probably need to redefine your definition of the word.
So happy to announce my partnership with #nmfv Brand new pieces made exclusively for their website. Local and international shipping available. Go buy some #madeinthecarribean products for Christmas! #nomorefashionvictims #sundarajewelry #handmade #buylocal
I’m catching up on How To Get Away With Murder and they’re playing Dead Can Dance and it’s stirring up all these emotions because I’m remembering staying at my father’s house in Barbados reading under the big tree blasting Dead Can Dance from the stereo. How does life go by so fast? It feels like that happened yesterday but it had to be at least fifteen years ago. I’m getting those feelings again.
Get to a meeting with my client. As I pull up they tell me they’re still in town. We decide to meet somewhere else. I get there an hour later. It’s closed. Then it starts to rain. And now thunder. And I haven’t eaten anything all day.
I might be getting just a little bit stabby. Just a fucking little bit.
Today at therapy was really hard. I was sitting here crying, and generally being miserable, when I felt a nudge at my knee. I looked down to see that Zeus, my service dog, was doing his jobā¦ and brought me a potato.
it is very hard to cry with a gift of potato.
Remember this? Iām having a rough time right now. Zeus has a solution.
That would be an empty pill bottle, the *correct* pill bottle, a bottle of embossing powder, and two, TWO potatoes.
Youāre worth at least 2 potato to him and thatās pretty special imo.
I would just like to remind you all that *I donāt own any potatoes* and I have no clue where heās getting them from.
Because
when I was five, my kindergarten classmate told me I couldnāt be the
princess in the game we were playing because black girls couldnāt be
princesses. Because I was in third grade the first time a teacher seemed
shocked at how āwell-spokenā I was. Because in fourth grade I was told
my crush didnāt like black girls. Because in sixth grade a different
crush told me I was prettyāāāfor a black girl. Because in 7th grade my
predominantly black suburban neighborhood was nicknamed āSpring Ghettosā
instead of calling it its name (Spring Meadows). Because I was in 8th
grade the first time I was called an Oreo and told that I āwasnāt really
blackā like it was a compliment.
Because
in 9th grade when I switched schools a boy told me he knew I had to be
mixed with something to be so pretty. Because in 10th grade my group of
friends and I were called into an office and asked if we were a gang, or
if we had father figures. Because in 11th grade my AP English teacher
told me that I didnāt write like a college-bound student (though I later
scored perfectly on the exam). Because when I volunteered in Costa Rica
that summer, I was whistled at and called Negrita. Because when I asked
my host father if that was like being called nigger, he said, no, it
was a compliment because black women are perceived to be very good in
bed. Because I was a kid. Because I watched from the bleachers while the
school resource officer didnāt let my brother into a football game
after mistaking him for another black boy who was banned. Because the
school resource officer maced him for insisting he was wrong. Because I
was suspended for telling the school resource officer he didnāt deserve
respect. Because my senior year boyfriend said nigger.
Because
I was one of two black girls in the freshman class at my college.
Because at meetings to talk about how to attract more black students,
someone suggested that the school attracted a certain demographic
(sustainable living, farming, general hippiness) and that maybe black
people ājust werenāt interested in things like that.ā Because my college
boyfriend called me a āfiery negressā as a joke when he ordered for me
at a restaurant. Because the boyfriend after that cut me off for saying
he was privileged. Because I canāt return to my hometown without getting
pulled over.
Because
when I got married people assumed I was pregnant. Because people who
know Iām married call my husband my ābaby daddy.ā Because my pregnancy
with my son was plagued with videos of black lives being taken in cold
blood. Because their murderers still walk the streets. Because the
nation sent me a message that my sonās life didnāt matter. Because when
Tamir Rice was murdered I curled up on the bed and sobbed, cupping my
belly. Because my son heard me sobbing from the inside. Because they
donāt care about us. Because when I was 7 months pregnant my neighbor
asked me to help him move a dresser up a flight of stairs. Because I am
not seen as a woman. Because I am not allowed to be fragile. Because the
nurse that checked me in at the hospital to deliver wouldnāt look my
husband in the eye. Because the vast majority of people wonāt look my
husband in the eye. Because when the doctors put my son in my arms and I
saw that he was as dark as his father, I knew life would be even harder
for him. Because he will be regarded the same way I was. Because he
will be forced to grow up before he is grown. Because strangers at the
store think itās okay to reach into my sonās stroller and touch him
without a word to me. Because we arenāt entitled to boundaries. Because
they think we are here for their enjoyment. Because people donāt think
we are people.
Because
my nephew told me he couldnāt be Spider Man like he wants to because
Spider Man is white. Because when he was four he said that he wants to
be white so that he can go on a boat like the people on TV. Because I
couldnāt save him from that. Because I canāt protect my son. Because I
canāt protect myself. Because my stomach sinks whenever I see a police
car. Because when my husband leaves the house at night I am afraid heāll
be killed for looking like somebody. Because I worry that if I went
missing like the 64,000 other black women in this nation, the
authorities wouldnāt try hard to find me. Because I am disposable.
Because I am hated. Because we keep dying. Because they justify our
deaths. Because no one is held accountable. Because I am gas lighted.
Because I have been told that by speaking about being oppressed I am
victimizing myself. Because our murders are filmed and still pardoned.
Because I donāt know what it means to let loose. Because doing the
things that my white peers do with ease could cost me my
lifeāāātrespassing in abandoned buildings, smoking joints, wearing a
hoodie, looking an officer in the eye, playing music loudly, existing.
Because I am afraid to relax. Because I am traumatized.
Because there isnāt a place in the world White Supremacy hasnāt touched.
Because I am trapped here. Because the playing field isnāt leveled.
Because I love my skin. Because I love being a woman. Because not hating
myself is considered radical. Because Iāve been called racist for
defending myself. Because all the major protests are for cis black men.
Because Iāve been told that talking about the women whoāve died is
taking away from the real issue. Because I get no break from fighting.
Because everything is a struggle. Because my anger isnāt validated.
Because they donāt care about my pain. Because they donāt believe in my
pain. Because they forgive themselves without atoning. Because Iām not
free. Because the awareness of it permeates everything. Because itās not
ending. Because they teach the children that itās already ended.
Because someone will assert their supremacy over me today. Because
theyāll do it tomorrow. Because I want more.
I’ve been reading The Midwife of Hope River and I sure have been learning a lot about birthing babies. It’s pretty damn fascinating.
Also this is the first book I’ve read by a white author this year. All my other books have been by black authors. All of the authors have been female.
I don’t know if it’s where I’m at in life, an age thing or what, but I really have no interest at this point in reading anything but stories about women as told from a female perspective. I also gravitate to tv shows and movies with strong female (and often central) characters. I am immersing myself in womanhood.
Maybe I’ve just had enough of men and their world. I’ve lived in it all my life. Just today I was thinking about a man who sat across from me and declared to himself that my not wanting children had to be the result of some trauma. In spite of the fact that I’d told him it was not. In spite of the fact that I was sitting right across from him and that instead of making up his own theories he could just ask me. And I told him so. But he preferred to stick to his version of events.
When you’ve spent your entire life in a world where you, as a perfectly rational and intelligent human being are treated with condescension, are belittled, are patronized, in even the tiniest of ways that would be invisible to the naked eye except that they feel like a needle to the heart every single time and you realize that age will not stop these ridiculous creatures from trusting that you possess an ounce of critical thought, at some point you just get fed up and say fuck this shit I’m not dealing with y’all anymore.
So yeah I haven’t read a book by a male author in quite some time.
I can’t believe how many people from Scandal have been on it. I just saw Mellie!
I love President Bartlet but even more than that I love the First Lady. I just wish they showed more of her. Because she is after all Stockard Channing. And I can never have enough of Stockard Channing.
I wonder if a man of such short stature would really get elected nowadays. I mean he is absolutely charming but I wonder.
I find the whole political maneuvering thing really fascinating. I’m also really glad I decided not to follow my dad’s footsteps into that arena. I’m way too idealistic for that shit.
About ten people messaged me while I was trying to type this post. That’s more than I usually get in a week. What the fuck.
I made these in copper and bronze first and loved them. But these are just fabulous. Hammered sterling silver, yellow and rose gold. They really shimmer when you wear them. Sexy! #jewelry #handmade #madeintrinidadandtobago #earrings #sundarajewelry
2,000-year-old roman face cream with visible, ancient fingermarks
The contents were so well preserved (you can still see finger marks in the cream) that the team was able to recreate the product from fresh ingredients. The main constituent of the cream was animal fat mixed with starch and tin oxide.Ā āthe Londinium creamā was primarily made up of animal fat, probably from cattle or sheep. They also detected starch, which was likely isolated by boiling roots and grains in water. In addition, the cream contained a tin dioxide mineral called cassiterite with the chemical formula SnO2.
I decided to make more naan today to finish off the end of my curry coconut milk lamb. I sprinkled it with a little garlic, fresh thyme and chives (because I had no cilantro) and lowered the flame and let it cook slower.
Well, I now declare myself a naan master. It is perfection, and my lamb tastes even better today than it did when I cooked it. I feel like I’m making the ancestors proud. I’m proud. And full. Yessss.
Iām redesigning a book jacket for a client, basically as a favour. So I asked for the original file which would have all the proper measurements. I get the file and itās completely uneditable. Because the guy who designed it was not a graphic designer.Ā
This is why I get annoyed when people think that if they can fiddle about with Photoshop and Illustrator and create something that they know how to do this job. Thereās so much more to it than that. You have to know how to save a file. In different ways for different purposes. This guy sent me a flattened pdf. He might as well have sent me a jpg. Itās useless. So time ticks on and I wait. Oh well itās not my emergency *shrug*
I have to write an artistās bio thingy for my jewelry line right now. I pretty much would rather be doing anything else… a trip to the dentist would do. Writing about myself is so boring.Ā
Yes. I do agree. And the only people that donāt agree are the ones that feel the need to throw a blanket over a statement like āblack lives matterā and cover it up with āall lives matter.ā People who genuinely believe that all lives matter, truly care when black people are voicing our feelings on our oppression. If you agree that all lives matter, the statement āblacklivesmatterā wouldnāt bother you. Its not #OnlyBlackLivesMatter its #BlackLivesMatter. If you believe all lives matter, youād want to work on why a large group of people are being treated like they donāt matter by their society, rather than silence them. If i say āpizza is edibleā do you chime in with ābut donāt you think all food is edible?ā Do you reply with āwhoa do you hate cheeseburgers?ā No because you understand that liking one food isnāt tied to disliking another. Would you email Olive Garden and ask if they are anti Chinese food? Do you call burger King and ask why they dislike tacos? No. If āall lives matterā was a truly helpful movement it would have existed BEFORE black people started black lives matter. All lives do matter. And each group of lives has their own unique struggles. When people say āpray for Palestineā would you say āumm lets pray for everyoneā when americans say āremember 9/11ā are they dismissing Pearl Harbor? NO. So when a person says black lives matter. A statement inspired by the wrongful deaths of men women and children, and systematic treatment based on their skin color, and your initial reaction is to correct their statement, you have to examine yourself. You know who TRULY believe all lives matter? The non black people who support the blacklivesmatter movement. Being able to see past their privilege and help those oppressed because they care about ALL lives. You know who donāt really believe that all lives matter? Those who refuse to examine their own privilege, and silence the voices of the oppressed to form a movement that is more comfortable for themselves. So yes i do believe that all lives matter. And if you do, youād work one the oppression of those being treated like they donāt rather than co-opt their movement.
I just learned about this place called Shakespeare and Company, situated right outside Notre Dame in Paris. You can go there and sleep for free, for just a night or a few weeks. One dude reportedly stayed here for years. During the day youāre welcome to write or make art among the bookshelves.Ā
All they ask is that you read their books, tend their store for a couple of hours each day, and put a one-page autobiography in their already extensive library. A lot of people here speak English, and lots of the books are in English as well. If you live here, youāre called a Tumbleweed, how cute is that?! (Hereās a link to one bloggerās experience.) I think Iām going to put another item on my bucket listā¦
Iāve spent the entire day doing photography and editing pictures. I donāt love doing this because it takes time away from the bench and Iād rather be making pieces. But thatās what happens when you work as designer, creator, photographer, PR person, delivery guy, buyer, social media director, and admin assistant. I feel like there are never enough hours in the day. I think Iām gonna hire a service to do my drop offs and mailings. It takes too much of my time. If I could cross one thing off my list Iād be really happy.
Kindred spirits can shop harmoniously. You cannot shop with someone who wants to smell every scent in Bath and Body Works when you are looking for the perfect boots. But if you have a similar mission or no mission and compatible personalities itās ok
I’m a go in, get it, and get out kind of person. The only people I’ve every shopped with are my mom and sister and they have to linger over EVERYTHING. I’m more patient that I used to be but they still annoy the hell out of me.
I was watching some commercial on tv and they showed this group of women declaring how much they love shopping (together apparently) and I recoiled in horror because shopping with anyone just sounded like the worst thing I could think of. I donāt find shopping an enjoyable activity to begin with (which is why I love the internet god bless online shopping) but to do it in the company of another human being? Torture.
Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it werenāt a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.
Part of a new upcoming collection. After shaping and trimming these, I am completely covered in tiny pieces of multicolored thread. Am wearing black yoga pants š¦ #artisanjewelry #tassels #handmade #jewelry #caribbean #madeintrinidadandtobago
It’s so overcast and rainy today. I feel so at home in this kind of weather.
I mean I don’t want to move to London or Seattle or something. I like my sunshine. But i love rainy days too. And it’s been a dry rainy season this year.
For the past year and a half I’d been having what I thought was an allergic reaction to something in my environment. I tried everything but the itching was driving me mad so yesterday I went to see a dermatologist. Turns out she diagnosed me with very mild adult acne. She gave me a prescription for whatever the generic version of Differin gel is and after just using it for one day the itching has stopped. Apparently you can get acne at this age, could be stress or hormones, could look more like a rash than acne and it can itch! I’m glad to get some relief (and a solution) but what the fuck dude. I’m 42. Acne. Steups. What bullshit.
Chris took some of my naan bread to work and he gave a piece to the Indian consultant they have working there and he loved it, especially the garlic naan.Ā
I found the recipe here. This one didnāt require any yogurt (I was feeling to lazy to get any). I used a rolling pin at first for the dough but found later it was easier if I just flattened it with my hands. Thinner is better. I also found they puffed up more when I pricked them with a fork before I put them to cook. I cooked some with garlic and some plain. I sprinkled some salt on the finished ones and coated liberally with butter. They were delicious hot.
I changed the cooking technique a bit and just flipped them on the cooking surface instead of cooking them over an open flame. I was easier and didnāt change the bread in any way that I could see. You could easily do them in a large frying pan. The recipe made enough for about four people.Ā
I made naan! Not posting a pic cause the lighting in my kitchen is shit but it came out good. I watched a few videos on how to make it on a tawa. I didnāt quite follow the technique but it still came out light and fluffy. It tastes great.
I also made a curry lamb stew in coconut milk but I dunno if I even wanna eat that. Yay naaaaaaaaaan
I personally have never cooked meat on it. In Trinidad we use it for roti, sada, paratha and other flatbreads but it can be used for kebabs, and I suppose grilling any kind of meat.
I haven’t seen a sight like this since I was a child. Made me feel nostalgic for a simpler time. Not sure the poor beast shares my sentiments #islandlife #caribbean #trinidad
I was watching this Jeff Ross comedy special yesterday. He visited this prison in Texas and performed standup for both the men and the womenās sections.
I noticed that the men laughed heartily and freely. And that when most of the women laughed, they covered their mouths. Whether or not they had good teeth. Why do we do that? Are we taught that itās unladylike to open our mouths and throw back our heads and laugh with abandon? Why are we so damned apologetic about everything?
Laugh as loud as you want. Curse. Donāt give way when men walk by. Talk loud. Get angry. Express your opinions. Stop apologizing. Stop fucking saying sorry for breathing. Occupy the piece of the earth that you stand on with every cell in your body. Take up space. Let people deal with your existence. And stop covering your mouth when you laugh.Ā
I find this really good naan recipe and I have all the ingredients and then I ask Chris if we have a tawa and he tells me no. What self-respecting Trinidadian household does not have a tawa? I am ashamed of us.Ā
*yāall gonna ask me anyway so this is what a tawa is:
Without the stupid brand name on it. You cook flatbreads and stuff on it. Or meat. Whatever. Every Trinidadian house has one.
Last year for the around the last week of October I began having very vivid dreams about my father. Ā I donāt dream about him much anymore so I was confused when night after night he showed up.
The dreams stopped abruptly right after Halloween. I didnāt think anything of it until a few months later when I remembered that the day after Halloween was All Saints Day in the Catholic Church. Itās a time when it is believed that the veil between the living and the dead is thinner and that we are able to communicate and reach out to one another.
Iāve never really believed in those things but it struck me as odd that at that time he featured so prominently in my dreams. He hasnāt visited this year. Perhaps that means good things. His dying wish has finally been completed. So maybe he is resting in peace.
Thank you for sharing those points about learning to be happy alone and not settling.
I’m learning.
Sooo..Hyatt is worth the hype?
Welcome. I donāt know what the hype IS re Hyatt so I canāt say if it lives up to it or not, but I really like it there. Iād say the service is the best Iāve had here, and in a lot of places. I love the ambiance too. Itās lovely and modern and feels very luxurious.Ā
Tell me more about that bath/shower, please. I’m redesigning our bathroom right now and I’d love to be inspired!
I actually took a couple pictures of the room and a few of the bathroom.
Unfortunately I didnāt get the whole thing. The tube and shower area were encased in a glass area which you can see on the upper right in the picture below which was frosted for privacy:
The shower area was the part where you first step in when you open the glass door. It had one of the rain shower heads and also a hand-held nozzle. There was a waterproof bench at the end to sit on. It wasnāt a huge space but somehow felt very large probably because both the tub and shower area were combined. The tub was nice and deep but a little narrow for my taste. It had a nice window view of the city.
I found this image of tripadvisor of a different room but it shows how the shower is laid out.
Currently googling how to make naan bread without a tandoor because we stuffed our faces with it at dinner friday night and now I am obsessed with having more.
The hotel had the best shower/tub design ever. Weāre going to be using that when we build our home. I didnāt want to stop bathing.
Iām so happy right now. Things in my life are far from perfect, Iām actually really stressed out about a lot of things, but my heart is very full and I could not be more grateful. All I need is a dog. I would kill somebody for a puppy right now.
When Chris proposed to me (via letter) when I was fifteen years old I didnāt actually imagine that I would end up married to him. Although he had long term relationships with other people after me, whenever the topic of marriage came up he stuck to his guns. It was either going to be me or nobody. It amazes me that at seventeen years old he knew that I was it for him. I wasnāt sure of anything other than that I loved him, but I honestly didnāt see marriage happening for me, ever. Iām so glad I changed my mind on that.
The more time we spend together the more I see how perfect we are for each other. It has taken time for our relationship to knit back together as it once was. But we have now what we had when we were younger and it feels like coming home. I have missed this place so much.Ā
I guess if anyone was to ask me what the secret is, Iād say learn to be happy being alone. Be willing to stay alone if the right person doesnāt come along. And donāt settle.
It took me a really, really long time to be able to do that.
Chris is having his massage and I’m enjoying my ebook. They extended our stay until 7pm (check out was at noon). I wish we could do this more often. But the price of our room was almost the cost of our rent. So… Special treats.
Chris is downstairs getting a manicure while I catch up on my sleep. I was up most of the night. I felt too hot and uncomfortable.
He wanted to book me a mani pedi but I had just done my toes and manicures are a waste of money when it comes to me with my hands always in stuff.
When we lived in Caracas my Dad would get manicures every time he had a haircut. All the men did. Pampering is nice. I don’t get it enough. I just don’t have the money these days. That should change soon.
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this hotel stay. Much more than I did on our wedding day. Perhaps it’s because we know each other so much better now. We’ve settled into our relationship. It’s been great. I could stay another day. I’m not ready to go home.
I might be super relaxed from my massage, or maybe I ate too much, or I’m tired from being up since five, or maybe it was the wine, but I am feeling super relaxed/lazy/high and everything is making me laugh.
Just got these new crystals in, beautiful #iridescent #quartz. Couldn’t resist making a pair of these #goldfilled #hammered #earrings for myself. They’re just magical!
First time using these #citrine nuggets, can’t believe how beautiful they are. Loving these #hammered #gold filled #earrings #sundarajewelry #artisanjewelry #hamdmade #madeintrinidadandtobago
Considering Africa is a continent with 54 different countries and over 3000 different ethnic groups, it really shouldnāt surprise people that there is no one set look for an African.Ā
Afar people:
San people:
Amazigh people:
Oromo people:
Hausa people:
Masai people:
Edo people:
Wodaabe people:
These are just 8 of the over 3000 ethnic groups in Africa, and you can already see how beautiful and varied the people of Africa are.
Tomorrow is our second wedding anniversary. Weāre checking into the Hyatt for the night and having a nice dinner, maybe a dip in the pool later. We spent our first night as a married couple there so I wanted to go back for a night. Iām excited and looking forward to it. I am SO not in work mode right now.
I bent back this nail last night, if you look closely you can see the crease mark. I don’t know how it didn’t break. It bled but it feels ok now just sore. Yay for flexible nails?
It’s really rainy this morning. I took off the air conditioner and opened the window and let some fresh air into the bedroom. I’m listening to the soft sound of the raindrops. The sky is grey, a welcome change from the usual blazing sunshine. The air is unusually cool. I wish we had more days like this.
I see the mix of both. How funny let us know when they start addressing you in an Indian language! People walk up to me and speak Farsi. Waaaay off hahaha
I haven’t had that happen but I’ve never been around native speakers. I get the Hispanic thing a lot too, people speaking to me on Spanish
For the second time in as many weeks I’ve been told that I resemble two separate Indian-American you tube personalities.
The weird thing was that could totally see the resemblance too. It seems that as I’m getting older that side of my heritage is showing up more.
This probably explains why people look at me funny when I speak of myself as a Black woman. I’m slowly starting to absorb the fact that how I think of myself has nothing in common with how others perceive me.
Chris wanted to move our living room tv to the bedroom so we had to move the old mammoth of a tv.
Pick it up, try to move it, it starts slipping, try to hurry to living room, canāt move, realise something is holding us back, hustle over to bed and throw it on the mattress. Turns out the power cord is still attached.
Unplug, pick it up again, get a good grip, immediately lose said grip, try to hustle to living room, get to the couch just as it is slipping out of my hand, throw it on couch, bend back one of my nails which somehow doesnāt break but is now bleeding.Ā
So now we have a massive 52ā³ tv staring at us in the bedroom. Itās like having a bed in a cinema. I kinda like it. I canāt wait to play some games on the xbox.
Brass and blue titanium coated quartz crystal earrings. Been waiting a long time to use those crystals. Different colors on the way! #sundarajewelry #hamdmade #artisanjewelry #madeintrinidadandtobago #buylocal #jewelry #earrings #quartz #crystals
Iāve never understood why people would take other peopleās artwork and post it as theirs. If you admire a personās work then reblog them and give them credit. Tell everybody about how amazing they are. But donāt fucking steal their shit and pass it off as yours. Thatās despicable. Get a life.
New necklace detail. Love me some layers! #sundarajewelry #artisanjewelry #handmade #trinidad #caribbean #necklace #layered #layerednecklace #madeintrinidadandtobago #buylocal
I was trying to capture the sounds of the birds this morning but of course as I started filming they all went uncharacteristically silent. But you can still hear them a bit.
This sounds a great way to be. I’m interested in how/why it has developed this way, if you have any ideas…
Well I guess off the top of my head Iād say that weāre a small country (1.3 million people) who are unified by a single culture and identity. We see ourselves first and foremost as Trinidadians, not Hindi-Trinidadian or Indo-Trinidadian etc. Not that these designations do not exist but they are not our primary identity. We also grow up alongside each other for the most part, go to school together, get married to each other and have children together. How can you see each other as different or other when you live like that?
Egyptian Cult Image of Ptah, Third Intermediate Period, Early Dynasty 26, c. 945ā600 BC
Found in a shrine at a temple, this statuette was created to house the spirit of the god Ptah, lord of the sky, responsible for the fashioning and maintenance of the physical universe. Itās made of lapis lazuli that was imported from Afghanistan, a very rare commodity in ancient Egypt. This statue stands at only 2" high.
soulsistrin 