Years ago I was advised by someone to pay attention to my dreams. Although I knew that most, if not all, Indigenous peoples of the world recognize dreams as messages from the spirit world, at that time I was more focused on building other spiritual muscles and was not ready to open myself to the infinite worlds presented by dreams and dream language. However, I did eventually come around, and in the last two years I’ve devoted hours and hours to analyzing my dreams and sometimes other peoples’. I’ve found that they can, at times, be predictive, but they are always instructive. Even when they seem so mundane, like my subconscious mind is just rearranging things and people from my daily life in strange ways….
I was watching How to Get Away With Murder, and then I had to stop watching so I could get my son to bed. Then I’m in the show. Mikaela from How to Get Away With Murder slept with Connor and with Wes! And she had a baby by Connor! The baby has inherited Connor’s large nose.
WTF?!?!? And I’m reminded not to let TV suck up too much of my life, and to pay attention and spend quality time with my son so he doesn’t ‘get away with murder’/get into trouble. On a separate note, I also need to liberate my inner ‘slut,’ or to put it another way, to free-up myself sexually, because that will birth new beginnings. And the large-nosed baby, who, like me, was born of a Black mother and White father, suggests that I’ve inherited some of my knowledge, curiosity and intuition from my father’s ancestors as well, so I shouldn’t ignore or regret being of half European-descent.
So even in the mundane I find little clues to guide me. And I have to admit, I often enjoy the challenge that analysis presents. It is like being a detective in the deeply strange, poetic world of spirit communication, where one thing can mean two seemingly contradictory things at once. A sword that I take from an abusive man and throw away, can represent colonial male power/patriarchy that I am challenging and discarding, while it’s image also reminds of epic mythical fights of good against evil. It is, at once, a tool for positive change and a symbol of something I am working against.
And sometimes my dreams are far from mundane. On many occasions I find myself in times and places quite removed from my physical reality.
I’m in a classroom in the 1920’s. Or maybe I’m just watching the classroom. There is one Black woman amongst a class of young White women with a White female teacher at the front of the room. The Black woman is different form her classmates in ways other than her skin colour. She has done all kinds of things to contribute to the school library. She initiates a field-trip to a print shop. But the print shop is a sketch of brown ink on paper, with men working away like a scene from an animation movie.
Afterwards, all of the women don pants for the first time in their lives. Each woman has a pair of stylish 1920s women’s pants, except the Black woman who is struggling to do up her modern workout pants!
Then they go to the sea and we discover that some of the White women resent that this Black woman has been playing such a leadership role….
The White teacher decides to have the young women write a test to determine who should be in a position of leadership. She also comments that the Black woman would like to be thanked for her contributions, but they are not sure how to do such a thing.
The anonymous 1920s Black woman represents all of us African-descended warrior women who simply don’t fit into the White colonial matrix. As we reclaim Indigenous African ways of being, we contribute to our community’s and to society’s knowledge-base (the library), while connecting others to the source of that knowledge (the print shop). Simultaneously, the trip to the print shop operated by men also represents our growing awareness of how patriarchy and industrialization are deeply tied together. And this awareness is what eventually allows all women to claim our power ( ie. to wear the pants) and connect to the ultimate female power-source, which lies in nature (ie. The sea). Despite the gifts that we bring to those around us, people who are operating from a colonial White framework (represented by the White classmates and teacher), are often unable to appreciate our offerings, and instead feel threatened. Although we may struggle with the idea of being leaders, we are undoubtedly way ahead of them, as our modern fitness attire would suggest, so we need to work it out, and exercise our innate power!
I receive letters from old school friends. One, from a friend who is very shy and soft-spoken, is written very neatly on clean white paper, and the other, from a woman who is more outwardly expressive, is messy, like the paper has been rained on.
These old friends are a reminder of some of the insecurities I still harbor from my childhood - a childhood where I, as a light-skinned Black woman, was at times the darkest kid in my class during my elementary school years. The insecurities also have to do with a learned ideal of womanhood that involves being soft-spoken and non-threatening like the friend who wrote the first letter. For this reason, I have difficulty presenting my truth, particularly if it seems that my truth will challenge people. The schoolmates remind me of feelings of inadequacy that I, like most people, have, due to being compared and graded by teachers. The letter is a message telling me to write. Even if it may seem to make things messier, I need to share my truth! Rain and water are always symbols of healing for me, so the letter that looks like it was in the rain reveals that my written self-expression will act as healing for me, and maybe even for others. After this dream I woke with the idea of blogging, specifically blogging about some difficult experiences I have had as a female artist of African descent working towards decolonization.
And so... here I am!
these are the guides’ open houses. Live
open under these births (in that place with tools and things)
with the songs of my grandparents
with the wisdom . granny
with the ancient
book the eating. The living. Dancing. And mirth
we are born here in this place
walk. Walk. live. With is…
…the ashamed
the risk
the ounce earth
expects itself to redeem to tribute
to call back the ancient
~Ancestors Anonymous
I was watching How to Get Away With Murder, and then I had to stop watching so I could get my son to bed. Then I’m in the show. Mikaela from How to Get Away With Murder slept with Connor and with Wes! And she had a baby by Connor! The baby has inherited Connor’s large nose.
WTF?!?!? And I’m reminded not to let TV suck up too much of my life, and to pay attention and spend quality time with my son so he doesn’t ‘get away with murder’/get into trouble. On a separate note, I also need to liberate my inner ‘slut,’ or to put it another way, to free-up myself sexually, because that will birth new beginnings. And the large-nosed baby, who, like me, was born of a Black mother and White father, suggests that I’ve inherited some of my knowledge, curiosity and intuition from my father’s ancestors as well, so I shouldn’t ignore or regret being of half European-descent.
So even in the mundane I find little clues to guide me. And I have to admit, I often enjoy the challenge that analysis presents. It is like being a detective in the deeply strange, poetic world of spirit communication, where one thing can mean two seemingly contradictory things at once. A sword that I take from an abusive man and throw away, can represent colonial male power/patriarchy that I am challenging and discarding, while it’s image also reminds of epic mythical fights of good against evil. It is, at once, a tool for positive change and a symbol of something I am working against.
And sometimes my dreams are far from mundane. On many occasions I find myself in times and places quite removed from my physical reality.
I’m in a classroom in the 1920’s. Or maybe I’m just watching the classroom. There is one Black woman amongst a class of young White women with a White female teacher at the front of the room. The Black woman is different form her classmates in ways other than her skin colour. She has done all kinds of things to contribute to the school library. She initiates a field-trip to a print shop. But the print shop is a sketch of brown ink on paper, with men working away like a scene from an animation movie.
Afterwards, all of the women don pants for the first time in their lives. Each woman has a pair of stylish 1920s women’s pants, except the Black woman who is struggling to do up her modern workout pants!
Then they go to the sea and we discover that some of the White women resent that this Black woman has been playing such a leadership role….
The White teacher decides to have the young women write a test to determine who should be in a position of leadership. She also comments that the Black woman would like to be thanked for her contributions, but they are not sure how to do such a thing.
The anonymous 1920s Black woman represents all of us African-descended warrior women who simply don’t fit into the White colonial matrix. As we reclaim Indigenous African ways of being, we contribute to our community’s and to society’s knowledge-base (the library), while connecting others to the source of that knowledge (the print shop). Simultaneously, the trip to the print shop operated by men also represents our growing awareness of how patriarchy and industrialization are deeply tied together. And this awareness is what eventually allows all women to claim our power ( ie. to wear the pants) and connect to the ultimate female power-source, which lies in nature (ie. The sea). Despite the gifts that we bring to those around us, people who are operating from a colonial White framework (represented by the White classmates and teacher), are often unable to appreciate our offerings, and instead feel threatened. Although we may struggle with the idea of being leaders, we are undoubtedly way ahead of them, as our modern fitness attire would suggest, so we need to work it out, and exercise our innate power!
I receive letters from old school friends. One, from a friend who is very shy and soft-spoken, is written very neatly on clean white paper, and the other, from a woman who is more outwardly expressive, is messy, like the paper has been rained on.
These old friends are a reminder of some of the insecurities I still harbor from my childhood - a childhood where I, as a light-skinned Black woman, was at times the darkest kid in my class during my elementary school years. The insecurities also have to do with a learned ideal of womanhood that involves being soft-spoken and non-threatening like the friend who wrote the first letter. For this reason, I have difficulty presenting my truth, particularly if it seems that my truth will challenge people. The schoolmates remind me of feelings of inadequacy that I, like most people, have, due to being compared and graded by teachers. The letter is a message telling me to write. Even if it may seem to make things messier, I need to share my truth! Rain and water are always symbols of healing for me, so the letter that looks like it was in the rain reveals that my written self-expression will act as healing for me, and maybe even for others. After this dream I woke with the idea of blogging, specifically blogging about some difficult experiences I have had as a female artist of African descent working towards decolonization.
And so... here I am!
these are the guides’ open houses. Live
open under these births (in that place with tools and things)
with the songs of my grandparents
with the wisdom . granny
with the ancient
book the eating. The living. Dancing. And mirth
we are born here in this place
walk. Walk. live. With is…
…the ashamed
the risk
the ounce earth
expects itself to redeem to tribute
to call back the ancient
~Ancestors Anonymous