I purchased that grey acrylic chair through a craigslist ad back when I was rooming. I had no business buying another piece of furniture while living in that room but I couldn’t say no to it. I contacted the seller, jumped in my car, drove to Brooklyn, placed my new chair in the back seat, picked up some flowers from a farmer’s market in that neighborhood, went home and spent almost 3 hours figuring out where I wanted to place my chair. I placed my chair in the corner of my room, next to a window that seemed to be the perfect spot. That summer I spent most of my afternoons in that chair thinking and drinking a cup of tea. Those months were filled with confusion, pain, transition, love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and lots of patience. That chair became a space to reconnect. Continue reading “Safety”
July was a cool month. A little travel here and there but worth it. Simply enjoying the sun hit my skin is all I need to enjoy the summer. This month was filled with amazing events in New York City. Many that I missed because of last minute planning with other events and vice versa. Wish I were cloned so I could be in multiple places at once. Here are a few things I was able to capture a moment of in July.
The Curly Girl Collective’s CURLFEST 2017 was AMAZING. I wasn’t able to lounge for long but it was fun for the time being. I call it black girl appreciation day. All that melanin in one place was pure LOVE. Besides the NSBE conference I attended a few years ago, and Essence street style block party, CURLFEST was out here in Brooklyn creating melanin memories. It’s great to have such representation. One of the best moments for me was seeing daughters and their mothers, young girls need to see how we come in all shades and what we represent. I’ll be there next year prepared with a cooler filled with water, wine, and food. Continue reading “NY to MD”
This is a mix of my apartment tour and my path to minimalism story.
If you’re a reader, you’ll know that over the last two years, I had moved from the place that I grew up aka my parents house to my own place I now call home. First, I moved into a two-bedroom apartment that I shared with my cousin. Very large bedroom, big closet, with lots of windows, but living with that man was close to HELL. I never cohabitated except for the time my ex-boyfriend allowed me to crash with him for a couple of days out the week for a few months (that was long) but even that was different although I love me some him. In these experiences, I knew I needed my own space. With an abrupt move out of my cousin’s house to being temporarily back at home, shit got real.
Continue reading “Becoming a Minimalist”