Island Style

One shot

Two years ago yesterday, I started this little blog- the same day that Alexander McQueen died. How strange is it that exactly two years later, another brilliant talent, Whitney Houston died. There's something about February 11th it seems.

Anyway, I saw this picture yesterday, and I decided to share it. For me, every single emotion about the things that should matter to us in LIFE can be seen in that shot. It also reminds me of the way I was feeling when I decided to start this little hobby- I literally wanted to grab life by the horns and never let go! It goes by so fast, and sometimes we blink and miss it.

Yet another moment to stop and reflect- and go hug someone you love.

"b-withsomebodywholovesyou!"

xox

Tee

The Wall: How it began

If you haven't already done so, read part one HERE, and part FOUR here, before you begin below.

 

She heard someone say her name. It happened a lot to her. Nobody ever just said "Toya". It was always "Toya Turner". Some people may look at that and think it were a good thing- indicating some sort of appreciation for the individual in question. She would always think 'whenever they are talking about serial killers they use their full names too! "Jeffrey" just doesn't have the same effect as Jeffrey Dahmer'.... in her mind, it denoted a form of infamy. Truth be told it was a form of respect- but she would never see that.

She turned her head. Hearing her name like that indicated to her that this was not someone she was close to- all her friends knew how much it annoyed her. She looked up at the man next to her and thought "FUCK"... but instead she said " Liam..... hi!" - and flashed him a grin.

A million things went through her head-

"why did you take an early flight and wear no makeup, you idiot?"

"Why didn't you go blow your hair out instead of that wutless braid you clapped into it an hour ago?"

"Do you have any listerine breath strips???"

... don't let him sit here, don't let him sit here.... don't LET. HIM. SIT.... HEREEEE!!!!

 

Last Weekend

we threw a party. And, as promised,here is another look at the headband... and the outfit. This is my fave pic,(BELOW) because I actually got a chance to sit down- hosting a party is loads of work...and we'd finally got a minute to sit and chat in the middle of the festivities. #toocuteforwords

 

It's Christmas time. I'm wishing you and your families a safe and happy holiday season. All the best for the new year from Island Style. ^_^

"b-blessed"

Toya

Fix your afro, mami... because it's flat on one side

I remember how I felt the day that I found out that Erica Badu's locks were fake. In a word, duped.

Erica Badu, she of the ankh and incense, and huge headwraps reaching toward the sky. She who championed the cause of the afro-centric, elevated, highly intelligent black females amongst us. There were many who could relate to her- because they aspired to be what she seemingly had become- in touch- at peace- aware.

I always had felt inadequate when I listened to Erica's songs. I kept in mind that she was an artist...LOL... but she was so "perfect" - and I was not, am not... will not. Be that as it may, I loved to listen to the songs and I was challenged to learn about the symbolism and I wanted to be a better "me" because of her. I wanted her beautiful huge afro, and her long twisted locks. I wanted to know why brass cuffs were "better" than Tiffany lockets. I wanted to stop relaxing my hair and "get back to my roots" first because Erica Badu did it - and looked good while doing it- every day on BET. As in most things, I dove headfirst, never really considering whether the artist I admired embodied the things I thought she did.

I suppose we will never know. People have a way of hiding themselves behind masks. Some masks are positions like "pastor" or "teacher", some masks are labels like "bohemian" or "afro-centric", some masks are ideological like "Christian" or "Buddhist". Perhaps she was just manufactured to be an afro-goddess- filling a niche in the entertainment industry- selling a brand that people clung to simply because it was - and is - aspirational. Do you remember Iyanla Vazant? I think I bought every one of her "Value in the Valley" books... and then she pissed off Oprah! Google their reunion show and listen to her describe how "out of touch" she was while trying to convince the rest of us that she was "perfect".  As a woman, I know now it isn't easy to be as above reproach as  Iyanla and Badu seemed to be at the time. To this day I haven't mastered tying a headwrap like Erica, and truth be told, some of the things they spoke about I just could never understand (we educated fools are ruining the world - I know...LOL) . I memorized all the words to "call Tyrone" though! and I still have Iyanla's books. I found entertainment and hours of reading pleasure from them, and when the dust cleared, I found I had learnt something too.

"Nobody's perfect, nobody's perfect.... and that is perfectly fine".

It's cool if you never get it right, or if your choices aren't always the most popular. LIFE isn't about one moment (though a moment can change your life) and it isn't about what people think of you (because those people aren't spending enough time thinking about their own selves). LIFE is a sticky, messy, sometimes unfortunate, mostly remarkable, result of the choices we make everyday. We are not infallable, perfect, omnipotent gods (though I am finding many of us think we are). We do the best we can, try not to hurt too many people, apologize when we need to (or not) and love the people who love us back (if we're smart). All the rest of it- all the judgement (and the non-judgement) all the hurt (which is really anger with a pretty name) all the gratitude in the planet - is like a flat afro..... "it be's like dat sometimes".

 

I have had the fortune of learning at the feet of many wise women. I don't profess to know everything about everything (that's what google is for)... but I will tell you one thing that I know for sure: life is too short. I'm grateful that I know that now.

"b-smartenoughtoreadthebackofthebox"

The End

................................. (this will become a chapter in The Wall)

This post is for every person sitting behind their computers thinking someone else's life is better than theirs... no, it isn't!

(I'm on vacation- where are you?)

Anancy and Seaside Grapes

 

Seaside grapes. Throwback to when I was young and would stand under the tree and eat em until my tongue was purple.

I swear it's been years and I haven't seen them on the trees at all - but the past few weeks I can't drive along the road without seeing the trees full of them.

Everything is for a time I guess- but it's great to stuff my face with them while they last! I remember when there would be hundreds of butterflies on the island too. There were so many of them that it was butterfly roadkill everywhere we drove.. poor little things. I actually got sick of seeing butterflies after a while- and now I would love to see that mass of pretty wings again. As they say.. you never miss the vodka til the bar runs dry!

What? That's what it should say anyway. LOL  It makes perfect sense to me!

And that reminds me of an Anancy story I used to love when I was little about why mosquitoes sing in your ears.

 The Mosquito and The Ear

The Animals considered Anancy the spider as one of the smartest creatures in the forest. When there was something they couldn't figure out, they would go to Anancy to ask him. So one day they asked Anancy why mosquitoes always sang in their ears.

Anancy told them:

Long ago, Mosquito fell in love with Ear. He asked her to marry him.

Ear said- "no ... you're so small and frail, you're gonna die soon and leave me a widow!"

Mosquito was crushed, so he went on his way, nursing his broken heart. He set out to travel the island, looking for love.

Ear stayed single, never marrying anyone, and soon regretted her decision, but she was too proud to admit to Mosquito that she was wrong.

Now, everytime Mosquito flies past Ear he sings out to her, to let her know that he is still alive.

The End

...USE that story... and remember that it teaches us two things: 1. Anancy was a slick hustler, and 2. somebody's gotta keep our oral and cultural traditions alive.. so go sit some child down and tell them an Anancy story.... they don't have to grow up knowing only about Sponge Bob. 

xx

"b-theonetokeepculturealive"

LIFE Imitating Life

 

(The Fight Scene- pic taken by Toya Turner at "Somebody go horn yuh" A play at the Ministry of Culture this past weekend)

CAST: Henry Rodney, Jennifer Thomas, Sheron Cadogan Taylor, Linyus Adams (Guyanese Production Company)- Horizon Arts Productions

 

A friend of mine told me that things in our lives are sometimes attributable to the phases of the moon. Much like the way mild mannered men became werewolves in popular literature, the influence of that giant orb in the galaxy can manifest itself in shifts in our own bodies.

I'm not convinced that he wasn't selling me a crock..... LOL... but, with the new moon last week I've had to juggle so many things I could have auditioned for the Cirque du Soleil. I was nursing wounds from a fight with a "good" friend, overseeing the start of a new project, making HUGE, life changing, decisions alone (TERRIFYING), doing a live interview... CLICK THE LINK....

0930-OBSERVERAM (TOYA TURNER)

 on the radio (EQUALLY TERRIFYING) and trying to keep my head above water.... literally. Of course, that would also be the week I decided to head back to the gym and do some minor renovations at The Little Starfish. Because I am a sadist, naturally.

Something was bound to give.....

 
(me, on the floor at the shop... pretty sure I popped my shoulder out minutes after this shot was taken)

I had a fight with a friend, and for a good two weeks I thought I was fine with it, but then I threw my shoulder out. Here's the thing about fights: when you fight right- and come out with minor casualties, there is very little guilt, and life can go on. If you fight wrong, and everyone retreats to their own corner to sulk, it can literally hurt you for a long time. Mark Twain observed: " An uneasy conscience is a hair in the mouth". I felt so guilty over the way things had gone- not because I had stood up for myself, but because I was sure that I had, by my own conscious act, caused a change in the dynamic of a friendship that I loved.

I missed it, and it was a huge adjustment to get used to the "nothingness". On the outside we can all function after a loss. You simply put on a brave face and soldier on. Inside we are a hurricane of thought and emotion, and simply not at peace. It was in  this mindset that I was back to staining shelves at the store last weekend. I was "happy" on the outside, and joking around with my friends who were there, but my mind was distracted... and I got lost - and my body gave me a sign that I needed to slow down.

I heard my shoulder pop.

It hurts so much that I've been shamelessly asking for shoulder rubs from  friends with "good arms" all week. (sigh) The pain is not unbearable, but it's constant, and annoying, ( which to me is even worse) and I've convinced myself that it's quite simple to fix. If I could just somehow get under my shoulder blade and push it back where it needs to be, my problems would be solved. The irony of how similar this achy shoulder is to my absentee friend is not lost on me. Of course I would love a do-over on our fight.... but I also realize that if my friend ever were my friend they will figure a way to come back. That's what happens - things hurt for a while, and then they get better. In a few weeks, you're back to your old self, and maybe my friend and I will be too.

 

To reconciliation!

"b-afairfighter" 

 

If you forget me

 

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

... by Pablo Neruda

Today I was told .....

 

Let love find you.

You'll know it's true

You'll really appreciate it

You'll have someone who wants it

....................................................... as much as you do.

And most importantly....

Your heart aches less when

You're not fighting for something that's not there

But accepting you're simply not compatible.

Live!     Live!!!!         LIVE !!!!!!!

............... And , when you least expect it.....

Love will find you.

                                                                          Erica Webson ( re-blogged without her consent)

One full week later...

 
(I really hate that feeling)

"Revenge is the best anti- depressant"

The last time Dizzle and I had talked he had managed to make it back from Jamaica and was moving his clothes and books out of storage and back into his house. This wasn't because he and his wife had decided not to divorce, but she had decided to move out first, and the market being what it was, the house was not selling. That last conversation had gone something like this:

Dizz: "I never realized how big this blert naught house was!"

Me: " You didn't show me any pictures, but 5,000 sqft seems a bit excessive"

Dizz: " I thought you said you weren't interested in seeing the house... rather worse now, right? You know she took all the wedding pictures?"

Me: "maybe she wants to remember you in happier times, Dizz"

Dizz: " I'm not too sure about that."

To be honest I wasn't too sure about that either, but I wasn't gonna say anything just yet.

Dizz: " so what about the new guy? Don't try to act like you aren't talking to someone new- you always busy on skype, gone are the days when I could talk to you as I liked. Jah know! What's the news?"

Me: " it's going alright. He's very nice, and handsome, and smart, and sweet, and sexy and ... perfect!!!! .  But I don't wanna say too much about him. I'm trying to spare your feelings, okay?"

We both laughed.

Dizz: " what about the eediat boy?'

Me: " I hear he's sleeping with a stripper now. I guess it's true what they say- water seeks its own level"

Dizz: " you were too good for him"

Me: " you're right.... and by the way, don't think I didn't hear that you coming to Trinidad carnival next year. You better not be planning to stalk me. I'm over you... and I've met Mr. Right"

Dizz: "RIIIIIIIGGGGHHHHHHTTTTTT"

Cut to last night

Dizzle has sent me a link for a website called www.liarscheatersareus.com - seriously. I'm looking at his wedding picture and an insane rant penned by his ex underneath. My eyes can't read the words fast enough. Suffice it to say that she has put him squarely on blast. Things he did- and didn't do- are online for the world to see. His handsome face staring back from their garden wedding official photos ( she has cleverly cropped herself out of the pictures) looks happy and optimistic. His name is on the left of the screen, alongside a bevy of other men and women of ill-repute. You can click and read all about anything they may have done.

It is scandalous- I am so stunned that I immediately forget about the chapter I was working on before he called. I was still holding the phone next to my face a full five minutes later... listening to him breathe.

Of course I can say nothing.

Dizz: "Romain says I can't do anything. The bitch is protected by the first ammendment"

Me: "mmmmm"

Dizz: " Can you believe this bullshit??"

Me: "mmmmmm" (thank you, Sly J)

(Christ, I am 100% sure I am not the person he should be venting to. Again I have no useful anecdote to share, and all I can think is people are crazy no hell, and I hope she doesn't break back into their house and stab him in his sleep. I make a mental note to tell him to change the locks.)

Dizz: " I wish I could box 'ar in 'ar face"

Me: "I tell you what. It's just a website. Today it's you, tomorrow, it's someone else. Hey, I'm sure if you refresh the page right now ten more people who get knuckle already upload some more names"

Dizz: " me cyar believe dis. De gyal want fu dead me. She wan fu kill me pon de internet"

Me: " How to kill your ex online" would make a great blog post. Between this website and facebook, you can make anybody look as bad as you'd like- and nobody bothers to find out if it's true. You kinda have to respect your H.R. clerk for calling you and letting you know that it was posted there"

What I really thought was 'how effing embarassing!!!  but saying things like that to an angry Jamaican are never advisable.

Me: "she's clearly disturbed, love. She probably needs to get some help. Crazy people have a hard time letting go of relationships. The internet just makes it easier for them to strike. What can you do?"

Dizz: " I wanna kill her"

Me: "I know luv, but I can't afford to fly up there to look for you in jail. You know how many shoes I could get with the plane ticket?"

Dizz: "whatever, tickets to Europe are more expensive."

I make another mental note to kill our mutual friend and resident chatterbox who must have given him some scoop on me.

Me: " You know, it's true what they say, 'thou shalt not be friends with your ex'

Dizz: " Where does it say that?"

Me: " The same place it says ' thou shalt not marry crazy American women'

Dizz: "Point taken"

.......................... things are probably gonna get much more interesting from here on out.

DISCLAIMER:

This COULD be a fictional story, or it could be YOUR LIFE. HAHA. Names and scenarios have been tweaked, just a bit this time, to protect the innocent.

LIARSCHEATERSAREUS.COM is a real website... can you believe that? I know you guys are all gonna go look now. Don't get any brilliant ideas!

"b-sane"

Tee