“OBEAH WOMAN, COME INTO THE ROOM! A Prologue. I’d been invited to remix a room in the #metcostumeinstitute #americanwing for their #inamerica exhibit. I integrated the dress of designer Maria Hollander, a White woman abolitionist. But when I asked who made the dress and her politically charged quilt seen in the exhibit, the seamstress remained unknown. This was chance to take #metgala invitation from a red carpet moment to a truth telling one. I would create a visual prologue to my #wegoodthx! installation.
I would rep a woman who could have made Hollander’s dress- an Obeah Woman who by day used her hands to sew, cook, wash White folk clothes & tend to their chirren and by night used her hands to conjure spells for our survival using ancestral African spiritual practices not meant to survive the middle passage. This would be my homage to Marie Laveau but also The Condomble Woman, The Santeria Priestess, The Ifa Woman, The Yoruba Priestess. The Voodoo Vixen and all women practitioners of ancestral arts from Africa.
This woman would represent the unseen Black women who have sewn the fabric of this country but she would also be my armor as faces and bodies like mine aren’t usually seen or celebrated in these spaces.”
Radha Blank was one of the 9 directors selected to help design the rooms for the exhibition.
There was always the little part of me that thought I lost you forever, the part of me that kept me up at night and tore my heart to shreds. I never thought that you’d come back, that “us” would exist again, that our once burnt out flame, would relight again. -Fxckromeo
It’s just in my nature to drift away from people. I don’t always mean for it to happen; sometimes it’s for the best or sometimes even if I tried, I won’t bring myself back.
But you’re different. I love you and I sure as hell can’t lose you. Not again…
So if you ever find me drifting away from you, please- don’t let go. I’ll be stubborn and I’ll keep fighting you, but I’m telling you now, I need you. So please don’t give up. Don’t let me drift away.
You are the only exception. Only you would be able to bring a smile onto my face after making me angry. You’re the only one who I could be with for all eternity without any doubts. Only you are able to get around my stubborn ways by melting me to my core. You’re the only one I could ever love unconditionally until we’re both old and grey. It will only ever be you. I love you.
I was sitting at the table with the boy with only candlelight to see when his house mate walked in on us and apologised profusely because he thought he interrupted our dinner date.
when i think back to the 42 days i spent in hospital, what i remember most is the love other crazy people showed me. i remember spending hours walking in circles around the ward talking with each other and racing when the nurse wasn’t looking. i remember the two other people my age who ended up dating in the ward and how much fun they had in those brief moments they could sneak away and make out. i remember the one guy i met who saw from the hallway that i was hiding under my desk and he convinced the nurse to bring me extra chocolate pudding. i remember sharing my m&m’s with another patient even though i wasn’t allowed to. i remember making origami cranes and stars and modular origami for so many other patients. i remember the 56 year old lesbian who did yoga in her room every morning and invited me to join her. i remember when a bunch of us played hours of crazy 8′s but we called it normal 8′s because we were like “well we’re already crazy!”. i remember not being judged for my scars and bandages and i remember hugging someone when she got out and telling her how proud i was. i remember us sharing coping skills and bitching about the mean nurses and giving each other actually helpful advice.
there was so much evil shit that happened to all of us in there and i still can’t talk about most of it without crying, but i so deeply value the other patients who treated each other with care and tried to make those shitty days a little less shitty. i never want to get locked up in a psych ward ever again but remembering those small acts of solidarity makes me so emotional and hopeful.
…I didn’t know what in the world this meant until I. Scrolled down
MY GOD disabled (and trans) people are the funniest mofos on earth like I actually feel kiiinda bad for ableist comedy douches, like y'all are missing out. your laughter is empty and mean when we’re right here being amazing. Level up please.
