Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Face to Face with Self-Care

The balance of health is so delicate. Life leaves very little space for recovery, the hustle is perhaps the most unnatural way to lead life. Traumas embed themselves like DNA in our minds and bodies and they're difficult to expel, as they come back and repel.

I wish I knew the formula, but me, just like so many out there face the reality of mental health as being a very real source of attention and caution. So why is it that so many of us feel the way we do? I tell myself when I am in extreme anxiety, it is simply a way of feeling, a feeling, being overtaken. But therein the problem is: being overtaken.

Over the past 5 years I have had to make serious commitment to my wellness, and trying to keep even keel with remaining motivated in my life, careers and as an artist; trying to balance with taking the time to just rest, be, breathe and process. Some days I am convinced that there is nothing natural at all about how we lead our outward lives. The concept of 9-5, capitalism, injustice, privilege and oppression, sexism, racism, homophobia, greed, that people starve and do not have clean water to drink, or a place to call home. That we just can't get along. Things are simply so out of whack.

I have learned to know myself very intimately and believe me, some days I drive myself nuts being the emo crabby beautiful spirit that I am. Trust me, I wonder if I was more an asshole and derived greater pleasure from selfish-foolishness, I may be more stable, less prone to anxiety and  even bouts of depression (usually as a result of a toxic potion of anxiety, insomnia, worry and processing some sort of bullshit).

The stakes are to stacked in many of our odds simply because of experiences, so how do we conjure empathy for others with experiences we don't relate to, live or care to acknowledge? When our own wings are broken, how do we learn to soar above the pain of inflictions? How do we both remember and forget?

I have taught my heart to sing many times, even when she fills with hesitation. I will never let fear get the best of me. I knew I could not stay that way, I won't let myself slip away.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

On Racism

Racism is everywhere. There's no denying it exists in and for people to access and deny power. Control. 
Racism informs government and police to base judgements and priority to your life being of importance, worth a call, an investigation, an incarceration. Law and justice, how they claim to protect and serves us is linked to how we look, where we come from and our sexual orientation. Communities of colour are predominantly abused, mistreated, under protected, neglected and misunderstood and exploited by every single man-made social, economic and political system. 
Policing is an unjust way of imposing justice. Lives are taken and taken by police, hard times are fallen on, mental health issues fall through systems and systems, but there is little real help to lift health to better. No real improvement from oppressions that happen so inconsequentially, every damn day. The police are as much gangs and terrorists as the gang and terrorists they claim to pursue. 
Who the hell is policing the police? They hella got an ego problem that's way out of proportion, and clearly the law protects them from fair persecution. How many times can we see cops abuse power, take lives and leave families and friends, communities broken and get away with it? How many times will they murder, lock-up and forget us?
Racism is actually more prevalent than compassion for our fellow human beings on the day to day. Everyone sees, experiences and is controlled by their racial profile. White dominance seems to demand systemic enslavement and crippling disadvantage to people of colour everywhere, around the world. Home, work, walking in the streets with our hands up, on the ground begging we can't breath. 
Absolute systemic disadvantage for those who are the best equipped to evoke change, in hopes to keep to keep desire for change silent, unequipped, indifferent, quiet, down. 

Colonization is a friend of racism. Colonization is an extension of racism, using political and economic control over geography to control coloured communities by imposing organizational, technological superiority over the native population. Overpopulation, economic distress, social unrest and religious persecution can be the reasons why colonizers came in the first place. The destruction they impose upon arrival, keeping the cyclical power of colonization alive. 
My parents were expelled from their home. I was a child born in Britain, under the protection of one of the most brutal land rapists in history. It's as complicated as you imagine human feelings to be. 
Colonization by nature subdues and assimilates indigenous population to the culture of the colonists; most of the time what I call: small white dick male power. Racism is societal cancer. Cut it out like our survival depends on it, because it does. 
White privilege is largely addicted to being exploitative of us quite literally and physically. White and European people spread colonization everywhere and wanna take what's not theirs, and not necessarily ours. Every land belongs to Indigenous people, they are the original settlers. 
Often there is no regard taken towards caring for our communities, as people of colour. Incarceration of minds and bodies at a pace and percentage which reflects just how deep the hatred is against us. 
I am sick of it all but not so sick that I can't say ENOUGH. Speak up now, if you have a mouth, say NO to this BS.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017


Those who promote conflict benefit from it. Not those who are privy to it, saturated in it. It's more sexy for cowards to tower over power, than realize healing must take place for generations of pain, for so many and provide tools and patience for positive change.

For the criticism of history and the challenge of its recollection through a selection of voices of narrow on change, women, people of colour. Yet disengaged from modifying systems to be put in place to create opportunities for every person to thrive, feel alive. 

How simple it could all seem in a dream, when an inhale of breath into the breast free from the weight of systemic oppressions, anxieties, depressions. Trauma. 

They want to distort us to shift focus from empowering youth, saying that black lives matter and brown lives are important. Bury the image that skin other than white can achieve success, and sustain from being swallowed into dilution that keeps power gleefully fucking privilege. 

Yet it is the poets, the protesters, the journalists, the musicians, the painters, the creators words and expressions that provoked generations. Wealth sunk 6 feet under and enjoyed no life after death, no possibility to resonate with future generations. 

The power is in the people, emerge the issues we need to address, the ideas we see rise in our communities as valuable affirmations. What sort of a world would it be if the rich were poor and the poor rich equally? What would the cost of freedom be away from systemic slavery? 

The essence of human potential is cooperatively an achievable reality. Each child needs to be told they are beautiful, each woman given encouragement and access to elevate intellectual confidence into desired change. This reality sticks with me. 

It was all a dream.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

My Resistance of Canada 150: 7 Reasons

I appreciate that I am a Canadian. I recognize the privileges I have, as well as the freedoms. However I will not be celebrating #canada150 for these reasons:

1) Indigenous people have suffered greatly over the past 150 years because of the pass system, residential schools and the Sixties Scoop.
2) The annihilation of Indigenous cultures. The lack of opportunity to reclaim what they lost during colonization. 
3) Implemting with urgency the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's report recommendations detailing the heart-wrenching testimonies of thousands of residential school survivors, their parents and many others.
4) Decriminalizing systemic and everyday attitudes towards Indigenous people. 
5) Urgently providing adequate water, food, shelter and social services in ALL indigenous communities. 
6) Honouring Dish with One Spoon Treaty. Here we agreed to share, replenish and protect the lands we are now inhibiting. 
7) Although Indigenous women and girls make up only 3% of the female population in Canada, they represent 10% of all female homicides in Canada. Indigenous women in Canada face many risk factors, compared to non-Indigenous women. There are nearly 1,200 murdered and missing indigenous women and girls in Canada, possibly more. We need answers, their families need answers and to have their grief taken seriously. 

The Scream, on the cover, The Subjugation of Truth, by Kent Monkman.

My own parents were expelled from their homeland by Ugandan military dictator, Idi Amin. Displacement, rejection and struggle was met by courage, and they have survived - but the recognition of the rapes, death, tortures and brutalization still remains sparse. 

While many of us are out celebrating, please remember the impact of colonization in all our lives and the obligation to tell the truth, and honour the first peoples of the land. 

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

I Use to Know

Radical Brownies, illustrated. Image by Julio Salgado

I am driven by a hunger I do not understand
The flow of the moon reflects little specs of creativity my belly

I am not afraid to be alone
I yearn for love
I am Queer as fuck
        yet I yearn for one love
Peace after the bombs

Inspiration is the only place I have found
Expression, voice
    releasing the truth
 alternative truths
Refugees taking over
White man running

Mamma told me to always be myself
I am not sorry
Will my love away
                    When I was one.

Visit Julio Salgado's page

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Year New

Evolution is survival. There seems to be some confusion about the definition.
Each day represents so many reasons to get lost in mad confusion.
I am a healer but I need healing.
Why are people not kinder? Am I fat? Did I feed the cats? What should I eat next? Did I eat? What is the reason I continue finding reason to hope that we can move beyond catastrophic self-obsessional ways?

Colours fade in a black and white world.
Black Lives Matter. Brown Lives Matter.
Stifling images leaving little room for differences, curves. Any truth or common sense on how to preserve life dies.
To many prescription pills. Mental health is an epidemic, too much weight and pressure on all our shoulders.
Look how they try and hide your story, omit your songs and hopes from existence.
Extracting creativity is the only true way of preserving stories of actually being human. Repress what you should be and express what you need to be.
Humility is not defined by religion. Check a history book, religion is an institutionalization of belief that has been the reason for so much destruction. A trap to entice the gluttony of greed in your neighbourhoods, communities, mind.

That doesn't seem very human. Who have we become?
It isn't easy on some days, but there's always brighter days - just like Tupac said.
As the new year rolls in fill your body and the whole wide world with thoughts of all that is dear, healing, happy and raising the disenfranchised voices and ways of living.
Know better, because knowing is better.
2017 I want to get away from all these mislead human intentions - hate, sexism, phobias and racism. Removing fashion of disenfranchising realities and finding a way to reflect only the lights we all carry within.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Giver and Go-Getter

I tried so hard to tell myself that it was all worth the fears, the anxieties, the broken hearts, or perfections that seamlessly came apart some day. In desperate times I felt as though my mind had gone, I had to learn to fall and catch myself annoyingly frequently. To keep moving in a direction that would remind me to breakaway from the confines of the skin I needed to shed, what it feels like for a queer woman of colour some days, or simply what it takes to remain human.
Somehow I could not forget all the ones I love(d). The touch of the clearest blue ocean cleansing my skin, washing away all the weight holding me from becoming free. The sand exfoliating the feet I relied on to be the foundation of bringing me up to face the world again.

Ready or not, whatever I didn't want to come, came. So much of what was dear, became a smile in the memories of broken glass reflecting haunting images like the Phantom of the Opera singing to himself at night.
Floating pieces in my belly.
I restore my faith each day, I don't get down on my knees to pray. I don't like bowing unless it is for elders I respect. Does that make me unethical, a devil woman with a reason to wreak havoc in this muthaf$cka?
I carry myself each day. I know what it feels like to be me, to carry myself when I am not sure I truly understand anything. Well except honouring my drumming heart, the simple but vital act of breathing or catching breath, trying to be smarter and forgiving myself for my mistakes and my limitations based on what's left to exhaust.
Fumes some days. Fire others.
I still believe in love. I'm saving all my love
just like Whitney.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Psyche Mirrored Escape Room 81

They treat us like we are numbers.
If they don’t like the way we look, the way we feel, what we deserve, what we occupy, views
They like to turn their backs and report us to terrorist authorities who claim an imitation and privileged sense of justice, caring little for equal opportunities and more about attaining power for the greedy few with a limited palette for the truth, sharing, being kind and decent human beings, just being that way
Don't turn off the lights, but see they lurk  like cowards with propaganda to disenfranchise us from finding purpose
Mental health is mental wealth.
All while we are trying to find footing and balance in a world that can seem so out of control 
How many tears need not be shed from tragedies that were social responsibility?
The root of excess and striving to be an illusion, not encouraging us, not even seeing us
I use to think it was harsh to think, but I can’t deny the way I see such an difference for any conviction
We treat each other over the course of what we claim as evolution, without really asking  what we need, our hopes, and it puzzles me
Why don't people with instinct send up for the elder on the subway? 
Why does everyone look like they are running to and from themselves? 
Such a confusion of slow and fast moments, not knowing what's next, but swearing to have some flex to stay on top of the world
No reason holding on to a dream that's gone
Running, running, everyone has somewhere to go, but are the lights on, is anyone home?
Some days I just feel fed-up

I wonder how to maintain purpose, but I never lose my core
I gain motivation knowing the stories I have been told and I have to tell myself
Keeping the motion of the words I find with me, planning my great escapes with imagination as a visualization of the world I can see us all doing better in.