R&S: Phunk'd Craftyhoar Fabric Scrap Placemats

Phunk'd placemats + my plant children

I am sure I have said it time and time again that I am a hoarder. The deeper I delve into the depths of crafty creativity, the more the things I hoard become endless an possibility for birthing crafty brainchildren. I have been teaching myself to sew for quite some time now and have been reusing/re-purposing many of my old clothes in an attempt to make new ones. One day while trying to sew myself a jumper following youtube seamstress Meesha TV tutorial on How To Make a Jump Suit Easy at the end of her video she reminds us to 'never throw away your scraps'. Since then I have been hoarding scraps of fabric from all of my sewing projects. 

My MeeshaTV Jumper (from old house clothes)

Now, there comes a brief fleeting moment in every hoarders life when you tell yourself 'this shit is too much'. It is accompanied by an overwhelming sensation of being consumed by things, then followed by the moment of reassurance when we become complacent in our hoarding tenancies and remind ourselves that the purpose of these things will soon be revealed. Needless to say I have a lot of crafty supplies that need storage, so I decided to look up a DIY tutorial on how to make baskets. I found this really simple how to make a fabric basket by TheCraftyGemini that uses cotton clothes line wrapped with fabric to make beautiful baskets of different sizes. With the purpose of my fabric scarps finally revealed, and being far eager to get this project popping I soon found myself annoyed and dejected. For some reason mine just didn't turn out as fly as the ones in the video. They were flat. No matter how hard I tried in all of my frustration I couldn't get them to be basket like. Crafting always has its up and downs and the first rule to remember is that no one is born a master, phunk ups will happen! And sometimes the phunk ups that can be a product of our frustrations, efforts and imagination end up manifesting into new ideas we had never envisioned. In my attempts to make fancy baskets I ended up with these beautiful placements that I so fitting like to call Phunk'd. 

Phunk'd Kanga Placemats

To get this final product I followed CraftyGeminis' tutorial minus a few tweaks; I used twine instead of cotton (because it was what i had) and just sewed in a flat circle until I got the desired size for my placemats. I didn't spend any $$$ on the supplies cause they are what I have lying around, but twine can be bought at the dollar store and you can use any old fabric you wish! Including old shirts, sheets etc.

Materials

My girlfriend reminds me all the time that stuff will happen, it is the way that we respond that shapes who we are. In the case of crafting, sometimes it can be really frustrating, time consuming or it just get all kinds of phunk'd up. But when we open our minds to the possibility of creative solutions, we become the masters in manifesting new kinds of magical creations!

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Found and Lost?: African Unity

I had intended on making and posting this on remembrance day in remembrance of the Kings African Rifle (KAR), but since the passing of Madiba Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela on December 5th 2013, this seemed fitting.

I feel conflicted. Mwalimu Julius K. Nyerere, visionary and former president of the United Republic of Tanzania in his 1983 speech stated that he was 'tired of being told that Tanzania's present condition arises out of our own mistakes of policy, our own inefficiency and our own over-ambition - that Africa's present condition is the result of African incompetence, venality or general inferiority in capacity, and being told that the solution to our problems is an agreement with the International Monetary Fund (IMF), despite the severity of the terms which can be obtained, followed by the single minded pursuit of private investment"

I completely agree with his sentiment, it is far too easy to blame the existing conditions of African countries solely on despotism, nepotism or political corruption. It is a surface level and simplistic analysis of issues that have deep historical roots. Yet still I remain conflicted. The evident regression of Tanzania in the past 15 years since Mwalimu Nyerere's passing I had to ask myself, how much responsibility does a democratically elected head of state hold when the trajectories established by former leaders are completely diminished? How have leaders gone from ambitious visionaries like former President Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana who called for the African Peoples Congress Organization meeting in 1958 reflecting and promoting geographical unity (Nyerere, 1974). Leaders who believed in regional, national and intercontinental trade, founders of the East African Federation, leaders who believed in disaporic cooperation from the Pan-African Congress to the Organization of African Unity (OAU)? To ending up with leaders like Jacob Zuma the current president of South Africa, who recently raped a woman and justified it by saying she was wearing a short skirt. Or the Kenyan African National Union (KANU) the former Moi regime who in 1996 allocated over half of the public Karura forest located in  Nairobi for logging, to raise funds for his 1997 re-election (Njeru, 2010). Uprooting, displacing and destroying the livelihoods of thousands of people. In short what has happened to positive government leadership that people can believe in? So in the passing of Mzee Madiba Mandela, I felt worried. Has the passion and insight died along with the first African leaders of independent African nations? Have we lost the fundamental unity required for liberation? What has happened to the models of African liberation and African liberation movements our fathers and mothers of passed generations fought, suffered or died unflinchingly for? 

Like I said I feel conflicted, because the answers are not clear. Who is to blame? Or does it even matter? What I admired about Mandela, Nyerere and others was that their dialogue was not around who was to blame, but how we can move forward together. Investing in alternative models of political and economic development like the Arusha Declaration on Socialism and Self-Reliance or Rainbow Nation. If anything I hope that action oriented dialogues will persist with African leaders, that there will be an emergence of those who do not talk but live what they believe. I see glimmers of hope. Like the recent establishment of the East African Community's (EAC) Monetary Union, where Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Rwanda and Burundi hope to merge currencies over the next 10 years and create a central bank to wean countries off foreign aid, and promoting south-south cooperation. I see grassroots organizations mobilizing people around the foundations of liberation that have not been taken up by existing governments. Unity is being taken up in varying shapes and forms in different capacities, and so I am also hopeful.

I decided to make this flower to represent my confliction, worry and hope as well as to acknowledge those fallen, lost, found, uplifted or caught between the challenges and successes of liberation. Red for the blood that unites us, the blood spilled and lost. Green for the rich land. Black for the people who belong to the land, and yellow for the characteristic and ever persistent sun that gives life. To the people past and present who participate in Africa's liberation from colonialism, oppression and racism, and for so humbly cooperating in laying down the foundations, supporting and believing in human liberation this is for you. Furthermore, to the people who never got recognition, farewell memorials, statues erected in their honor, medals, government compensation or even a thank you for taking up arms or non-violence because they believed in the independence, autonomy, freedom, dignity and unity for Africa I pay my respects. 

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

R&S: The Sexy Shero!

Before...

I hate short dresses. To each our own, but I just don't get it y'all! Whenever I walk the dress rides up so high my booty is all kinds of out. Even when my legs are closed there is this insistent gap between the dress and my legs, where no matter how hard I try my underwear (or crotch) always manages to show. And since I don't shave I am greeted by turned up noses and frowning faces at my hairy parts. In my experience, mini dresses have shown me no love. I just don't feel sexy in them despite how hard I have tried to convince myself in the past. I could just shake a rage fist and curse the mini dresses' ambivalence towards my feelings, or go Shero!

I bought this red mini dress about four years ago and took it around the track twice. Both times I wore it I was absolutely mortified! I felt so self conscious and hideous that I had a hard time actually enjoying myself. Why did I buy it? Well, because I thought that this is what I had to do to be 'sexy', but why did being 'sexy' feel so bad? And despite my distaste towards this dress I just couldn't bring myself throw it away, why? Because I am a crafty hoar[der] that's why. So this hate-hate relationship carried on for years where this dress that I swore to never wear again sat in my closet waiting, inevitably, in vain. Until the other day! After a contemplative face off with this dress, I decided that I really wanted to make it into something that I would actually wear! So after bit of altering and some shoddy work on the sewing machine this is what I came up with! A jumper fit for a Shero!

AFTER!

If anything I have learned that while I am still a horader, recycling and saving has also provided me with the opportunity to make things that are better suited to my bootylicious body and has enabled me to take charge of my own sexiness instead of trying to fit my body into what really doesn't work for me. Like a Shero I save myself from unnecessarily feeling like a hot heap of dog mess.

Yeah, I totally transform into a bootylicious crafty hoar supershero after dark.

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

p.s. I would post the how-to for this, but I am so embarrassed of my tailoring skills that I wouldn't dare. They are far from impressive, and are just good enough to get the job done.

Ukinzani: Universal Soldier

Ukinzani
[ou-keen-zah-knee]
My Symbol of Identity

I move fluidly and rigidly in and between defined lines, I am. Aspects of my identity do not move in a linear motion existing parallel to once another, but they encompass each other, bleeding into one another, all while feeding off of each others experiences. They can not function individually, but consistently contradict one another through their interactions both internally and externally. I was told I am black, I am learning that I am east African, I am trying to be human & I am embracing my sexuality as a universal soldier. But the hybridity of my layered existence has been challenging. I am trying to find a place where my contradictions can live simultaneously in harmony & peace. But which aspect of me comes first and which one is last? Well I was born as a human, I have lived as a visible black womyn all of my life, I became east African through working toward reconstructing my blackness and I am acknowledging that I have always been a universal soldier...that being the chronological order. More and more I have been thinking, do we create a hierarchy within ourselves where we relate more closely with other parts of ourselves than we do with the rest? And what facilitates the 'orderliness' of identity?

I have spent a lot of my life attempting to function on solely one level of my identity and it has sadly denied me from entirely experiencing myself. In intentionally refusing select aspects of my identity to fulfill the needs of another, I have been lying to myself and instilling a sense of falsehood in my existence and longing for who I want to be. I have come to learn that sometimes the contraction is intentional, for safety purposes. In hopes of blending in and actively avoiding confrontation and conversations which I did not at the time have the language, supports, courage or space to engage in. But that false sense of safety has been no compensation for the shame I have carried for years around my race, ethnicity and universality.

So let us start from the begin assuming the chronological order. I grew up in a white town, and other than my immediate and extended family my everyday life consisted of mostly in engaging with white people.

I remember being at school playing in the school yard and a kid stepped to me and said 'hey, do you know what a ABK is?' I said 'No..' she replied 'an African Butt Kisser!' so I told on the witch, and the teacher made us play together. The threat and discomfort of white people in addressing racism coupled with the ease of brushing it off because we are children, as many other encounters of isms it went unaddressed.

I remember always feeling so angry when other classmates assumed poverty with my ethnicity, and at age 10 having to carry the onus of challenging that alone without the support from teachers or peers.

I remember having  a family party at my house and inviting two of my closet friends, they left my house went down the street to eat food that was 'normal', on a another occasion someone threw up after smelling the food being cooked.

I remember riding my scooter with one of my only friends of colour growing up, and running into one of my closet friends at age 12. She stepped to me with three other white kids and said 'we don't like smelly Africans, do you know what we do to them?' She held up a plastic water bottle a filled with a yellow liquid and opened it. With a sly smile, and affirming laughter from the other kids she continued 'We pour dirty toilet water on them'. She proceeded to pour the water on my head. And as the piss water poured down my face I burst into tears not knowing what had prompted someone who I considered my friend to do such a thing. I was convinced it must have been the fact that I was a dirty African and not that she was racist.

I was absolutely brokenhearted and devastated to hear a childhood friend of mine tell me after over 10 years of friendship that 'growing up we made you feel welcome!' hastily suggesting that I did not belong in that space. 

More recently I was so disappointed having a friend of 13 years refer to me to her white friends as her 'black friend'.

This has been my experience of the ethno/racial aspects of my identity with non-racialized people. As I got older and I started having more black friends I realized that there was an ethnic divide, that even to this day the black 'community' does not address. In being black I was forced to subvert my 'Africanness'. I am choosing to call this my doubled otherness, because not only was I a visible minority among whites, I was also an ethnic minority among blacks. I remember not wanting to carry the food I love and ate at home, and recall being absolutely terrified to talk about my heritage, because it was always understood to be located in a backward, weird, ugly, smelly, desolate, or undesirable place in the world. So for a long time I only assumed a black identity to subvert my ethnicity in hope of to escape being associated with its distorted ideologies.

In accepting my universality I have also chosen to deny myself in identifying my sexuality. In naming who I claim to be within the limiting lables of  sexual identity I become overwhelmed with the inability & space to be anything else. Trapped.  In naming my sexuality I force myself into a rigid place that assumes an unshifting set of desires. In indulging or admitting to the fluctuation of my desires I lose respect from my peers for engaging in them, and through that I somehow delegitimize my sexuality. Then there is the intersection of my universality and my 'Africanness', which at this point I would rather not talk about in depth because I intentionally keep them separate. I can not risk losing support of my extended family, relationships I have for so long been detached from for reasons of physical distance and circumstance, and have grown to value these relationships beyond anything. In this case I also face losing my connections to east Africa and it becomes meaningless a geographical space. For it is not the geographical area that matters, but the connections established with the people who live there that solidifies my attachment to the space. And in growing up as a black person in Canada there has always been the assumption that I do not belong, so If I lose my east African ties then where will I belong? So yet again I find myself having to revert to safety tactics of subverting, prioritizing and lying about my identity to keep a sense of belonging within a 'community' and family that is supposed to act as a support mechanism...simply because if I am rejected then who else will I turn to? My experiences again become void, false and undesirable. I am left floating between who I really am and who I claim to be.

I beg, please disagree with me. The intersections and the complexities of our identities are lived out differently for many reasons not limited to; where we physically are located, how we situate and adapt our selves within that location, how others experience us and we them...and so on. The process of learning and unlearning who I am has proven to me to be circular, I have had to revisit who I was to deepen my understanding of who I believe I am today. My identity contradiction arises from searching and longing for a space to belong. They lie within who I claim myself to be internally and the way it is manifested externally through my identities interaction with everyday life. The challenges in finding this space is heightened by feeling like I have to exist on a parallel level where my identities can not intersect. In my experience, the hierarchy and prioritizing of my identity is deeply influenced by where I am located, and how that identity will be understood externally. Currently, I am searching for a space where I simply just am a hybrid being...if such a place exists...

To end with a quick quote I heard a brilliant mind once share that is constantly on my mind, 'complex not complicated'

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

R&S: Condom Earrings!

Ever since I was in high school I have been stacked with condoms. I used to keep them in my locker at school and give them out to students when they asked. And despite some peoples total delusion and denial toward young people and sex, there was (and still is) a really positive response to being able to get them in a judgement free way. I have stood out on streets giving out condoms, distributed them at events, parades, house parties, given boxes as house warming gifts to university students, birthday presents, carried bags of them across the world to friends who didn't have any, I even collect condoms from different conferences & places I have been in the world. In short condoms have kind of always been a part of my life both sexually and non-sexually.

Recently I decided that condoms can be, and should be jewelry! This came about as a solution for expired condoms. Condoms should never be used after their expiry date! So I can’t very well give them to people, as the latex from which they are made has more than likely deteriorated making them more susceptible to breakage…ultimately defeating the purpose of using them.

I have worked in several AIDS service organizations (ASO) & community health centers (CHC) and I have seen more condoms thrown in the garbage than I care to acknowledge. So when I was looking through my distribution stash at home for expired condoms, I just couldn't bring myself to throw them all in the trash! So as a recycle & save project (R&S) I decided to re-purpose condoms in a way that they do not have to strictly be used for sexual experiences. They can be used to make a statement, start conversations, or normalize condom carrying in non-threatening, and more importantly fashionable way! They are really easy to make, do not require many materials and since condom packages come in all kinds of fancy colours and designs now a days you can seriously have a lot of inexpensive fun with this! 

Materials:

Instructions:

1. Assemble materials
2. Poke a hole at the top of condom package
3. Use needle nose pliers to open jump ring
4. insert jump into into hole in condom package
5. Use jewelry cutter to cut desired length of link chain
6. attach cut link chain to jump ring and close
7. Open bottom of fishhook attachment with pliers to attach to unattached end of link chain
8. close bottom of fishhook attachment

Thats it!

even my plants <3 condoms!

xcited about condoms

My approach to sexual health isn't to bombard people with information in a fear mongering way, but to make it fun and accessible. If someone on the street sees me wearing these earrings and it gets them thinking or talking with their social networks then I think that is one step closer to challenging the shame & silence that has so far been of no help.

If you live in the Toronto, Ontario area here are a few places you can get FREE condoms and FREE HIV rapid tests. You do not need to have a health card or be referred to access these services!

West Toronto:

Rexdale Community Health Centre

8 Taber Road

Phone: (416) 744-0066

Jane Street Clinic

662 Jane Street

Phone: (416) 338-7272

Crossways Clinic

2340 Dundas Street West

Phone: (416) 392-0999

Central Toronto:

The Talk Shop

5110 Yonge Street

Phone: (416) 338-7000

Hassle Free Clinic

66 Gerrard St E

Work: 416 922-0566

Central Toronto Community Health Center

168 Bathurst Street

(416) 703-8482

                         Women's Health in Women's Hands                          

2 Carlton Street, Suite 500

416-593-7655

East Toronto:
Scarborough Sexual Health Clinic

180 Borough Drive

Phone: (416) 338-7438

Very Important Note: Do not poke holes into condoms you want to use for sex...

Smiles :)
Tuly Maimouna

R&S: Takataka an ode to Meja Ngeti

Takataka
[tak-ah-tak-ah]
Bottle cap necklace

When I was in east Africa anytime I went out friends they would always ask with a look of slight disgust "why are you picking garbage up off the floor?" without confidence and shifting eyes I would reply "...I want to make something..."  In reality I had no idea why I was picking bottle caps up off of the floor when I thought no one was looking, but it really did seem right at the time. On my trip back home I was acquainted with a rather strange but charismatic major in the Kenyan air force who we always addressed as Meja Ngeti. Now Meja Ngeti while obnoxious in his own right was whole heatedly generous, when we hadn't eaten and were hungry he fed us, he provided advice to young men and challenged them to think seriously about themselves, he avidly demanded that I was respected as a lady but mostly he bought us drinks...a whole lot of drinks. Now that I think about it, I am actually not sure if his obnoxiousness can be attributed to him having a few too many, but none the less his company was always a pleasure.

On one of our many encounters Meja Ngeti taught me a really cool trick, how to open a bottle of beer with another beer bottle. With every round that would come to our table he would tell the barmaid to leave them all closed and insist that I open everyone's beer. You might wonder why this newly acquired skill mattered so much to me. Well, as soon as I mastered the skill I was from then on able to collect bottle caps in a discreet fashion! I no longer had to pick them up off them floor, I just popped the caps off and put them in my pocket free of disgusted looks. Sadly, not long after I returned to Canada I heard that he had passed away, so to Meja Ngeti, asante sana kwa chaluka tamu, moto ama baridi tutakunyuwi White Cap, Sumit, Tusker, Pilsner na Amarula kwa wewe. I am sure he would be proud to see how far my beer-on-beer opening skills have come.

Yesterday as an ode to Meja Ngeti I felt inspired to make a R&S takataka 'garbage' necklace with all the bottle caps I collected on my many adventures with him, as well as some random ( and delicious) beer drinking adventures I had on my own facilitated with the help of the bottle opening skill he passed down to me. 

Materials!

It was a really simple process! I recycled an old link chain in my box of stuff and used my jewelry making supplies (pliers, jump rings & hole punch) to get this project popping.You can buy all the materials at the dollar store or your local beading store. You can get like me and sneak bottle caps from the floor into your pocket at the pub when no one is looking, or...drink dozens of beers for their caps? You'll have to get creative with that part and figure out what works for you. 

Instructions:
1. Assemble all materials
2. Flatten bottle caps with mini pliers
3. Use one hole punch to punch a hole at the top of the bottle cap
4. Use mini pliers to open jump ring & attach the bottle caps to link chain 
5. Fiddle with it to get it to sit how you want it to
Thats it!

Final Product!

  
I now get to wear all of my favorite beers on my neck! I was told it makes me look like a drunkard, but this simple project that costed me nothing but time to make means so much more than that. To Meja Ngeti, where ever you are thank you for your kindness and welcoming nature. It was a pleasure knowing you and may you have found peace and an abundance of blessings. 

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Sexploration: Tantalizing Titties! Crochet Pasties for Areola of Colour!



Tantalizing Titties
Crochet Pasties
$15.00

I have been on this interesting personal journey for a while. I am currently in the midst of trying to expand my sexual possibilities and figuring out what that even means. I initially thought that this journey was only about exploring and finding a personal definition of what sex is, but after having some really insightful conversations in some really...interesting locations I have come to find that so many other aspect of myself are tied into this three letter word.

Prior to taking the first few steps of this journey I had to first sit down and seriously think about what my boundaries are and what I need to say and do in order to keep things safe, consensual and above all sexy. As many things it has been an amazing up and down learning experience.Thus far I have learned that my boundaries aren't static, they shift and really do depend on context; like how I am feeling that day, who the person(s) involved are, or where I am and these different variables influence how I navigate my exploration from one experience to another.

So as a part of this sexual exploration I am now calling sexploration my girl who has whole heartedly supported many of my wild ideas, together we will be venturing into the unknown to check this fetish party and the first thing she asked me was 'ooooh my gosh girl, what are we wearing?!' Now I dunno about y'all, but I think that whether you are going to a wedding or a fetish party what you wear is a question that must always be answered, and your answer must be delivered in the most fly way possible!....but how? 

A few days ago another friend of mine was really excited to show me these nipple pasties that her friend had bought for her. They were really dope, but there was one problem...they were made for white peoples breasts. I am not  saying that there is anything wrong with white people breasts, in fact I think all breasts equally rule! But just like clothes that don't fit right I am not going to wear something that wasn't made for me or made to suit my body. So we resolved to make our very own sexy pasties for areola of colour! I decided to call them tantalizing tittes because I think mine are just that! I always tell people that I want my titties to look as tantalizing as possible, and lets be honest here whose wouldn't be when adorned with crochet goodness, and golden nipple piercings with chain tassels?

Sexploration for me is keeping an informed and open mind in finding out what works for me, and what I wear (or don't) is a reflection of just that. So I'll flaunting my sexy, big and brown areola in my own fashion.

shake your big brown areola, cause they tantalizing too!

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Niaje: What's up fall?

I was once asked what makes me feel sexy. You know in the summer time when the sun is shining on you and you get that warming sensation? That is precisely when I feel my sexiest. That warming sensation puts me in tune with my skin getting its luscious sun baked brown tint that gives me a sensual glow. I absolutely love it! So the end of August has to be the saddest time of the year for me. Having to temporarily say goodbye to the tube tops, dresses, flowing skirts and sexy sunshine hurts. While not as sensual as summer, I must admit that I do adore the flavour of fall! The colours, the layers and everything else that comes with it has a certain swag that is sexy in its own way. 

I have been steadily working against the disappearance of summer to complete my fall swag and I have come up with a simple quadra-purpose (is that a word?) scarf I am really amped to wear! This pink, %100 wool, 120" x 10" shell stitch scarf is long enough to be wrapped in multiple ways to face the harsh and temperamental forecasts of fall and winter. So kwaheri majira ya joto in kiswahili means 'goodbye summer', but I'll be saying niaje which in sheng (Nairobi slang) means 'whats up' to a new kind of sexy come fall! In my own fashion I had to add some additional floral flavour for originalities sake, peep the pics below!

NIAJE
(knee-ah-jeh)
1. A regular scarf 

NIAJE
2. A hood

NIAJE
3. An infinity Scarf

NIAJE
4. A shawl

When saying goodbye to something old, we will inevitably have to say hello or niaje to something new! So my way of coping with the loss of summer is making something that will get me excited about, and feeling sexy in the new season! 

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Out My Mind Just in Time: Block-o-Rama!

I've been losing my mind in the past couple of weeks trying to sort out the pieces of my life, but who needs a mind anyway it slows you down! Now, I'm back and I'm busy! I'll start off by saying that I can name few things better than community engagement, a $1 BBQ, performances and crochet! One part of my life has been around trying to get ready for this event coming up in Torontos own Regent Park! If you are free this weekend Saturday August 17th and in the neighbourhood, you should definitely check out Regents Parks annual block party Block-o-Rama! The event this year is titled "Own the Block", why you ask? Amidst the massive revitalization project happening in the area, this youth lead and organized initiative serves to reclaim and own space in the community. I have been blessed with the privilege of being welcomed to be a part of this community initiative and I am so so amped! I'll be selling some goodies and will be hosting a free and always fly crochet picnic with my girl Crafty Chas. So seriously come check it out and see how we do what we do!

Who? Performers, vendors, myself, you & your friends

What? A Block party!

Where? Daniels Spectrum @ Regent Park

When? Saturday August 17th 2013

Why? Why not?

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Duwara: Full circle

When I was in Nairobi, Kenya late last year I was staying in Eastlands mlango kubwa (big door) with a friend and both of my cameras, her camcorder and all our money was stolen...how unfortunate! But as my mom told me "it was baptism by fire" so I can now call myself a true Kenyan. You have to laugh about the situation, but be thankful that we are both still alive and well. So as a result of this loss the quality of my pictures has decreased significantly, but ultimately I'm flooded with pleasant memories every time I try to take pictures of the new stuff I have made. I have learned that it's the memories, people and experiences that make us, not the things that we acquire along the way. So in regards to that, I have been feeling like I have come full circle this year. The people I have met, the places I have been and the experiences I have experienced have all been blessings in full view. It has been such a privilege to feel the rough edges chipping away to me becoming a well rounded individual, and getting closer to realizing who I am and what I appreciate in life.  So this creation reflects that.

Duwara earrings are bright, bold, and so lightweight I even forget I am wearing them. I only make one of each pair and design so they are really one of a kind!

Duwara
[do-wah-rah]
Circle earring

  Also circles just look really cute!

Smiles :) 

Tuly Maimouna

P.S I also have to note that these earrings were inspired by the beautiful designs of Luz Arte who is making crochet jewelry inspired by Spring's flowers, nature and color, check her out!

What happened to all the book worms?

Book MONSTER!
material: 100% worsted
Size:10'
Stitch: Single crochet

....the book monsters ate em all! Growing up I was never really too big on books, mostly because up until I was in grade three I had trouble reading. The weird thing is that I always used to read with my mom before going to sleep as a child, but for some reason when in school the ability somehow escaped me...so I used to attend after school reading classes with my homeroom teacher. Since then I have developed a healthy appreciation for reading, I have come to the conclusion that it stems from past inability! My appreciation has manifested its self in different ways throughout the years, and reading has developed beyond an action or pass time to a deeply personalized experience.

I first started reading novels by black authors when I was in high school. It first started off with black erotica, anything from Eric Jerome Dickey to Mary, B Morrison was a must read, which is probably attributed to underlying teen sexual frustration haha! But more importantly while reading I started to realize that it was hard for me to imagine black characters in novels, and to this day it honestly still proves to be a challenge for me. I thought "oh gosh, has my mind been white washed?" This was really a troubling thought for me, so I started to look for books that distinctly addressed historical events pertaining to the black diaspora. Books like, Roots By Alex Haley, The Book of Negros By Lawrence Hill and so on. While this proved to be helpful, I hated the idea of black populations not being represented beyond traumatic events of displacement, and mostly I did not relate to these stories because my experience of 'blackness' is fragmented between being a racial minority and being of East African decent.

While searching for 'new' types of stories, to my surprise (not really) the only ones I could find in school/public libraries & book stores were stories about slavery,  war/political/civil unrest, travel guides or half-assed romanticized Eurocentric novels about African countries. Never stories of the Africa (I am using this term loosely) I have known, lived and understood. I also started to wonder why novels by African authors outside of those themes are so inaccessible. A lot of novels available on African countries tend to speak to non-African understandings of those countries experiences, so stories of love, families and everyday life outside of trauma, poverty and despotism seldom matter or exist in the conscience of the reader, or more frequently, the idea that these themes can not exist seperately. In the search for new literature my eyes were forced open to ideas and questions that extend beyond the books themselves.

I only recently started to think critically about the novels I had been forced to read throughout primary and secondary school. What obligation or responsibility does a white author have to represent bodies of colour? Should schools be forced to teach black diasporic history beyond slavery? What implications/ repercussions does ignoring contemporary African history have on the black diaspora? How has the absence/under representation of bodies of colour in government school curriculum, and mainstream media affected how and where people of colour place themselves within these exclusive and selective outlets, and how does this effect the way we navigate ourselves through everyday life? While all these questions require larger discussions and subsequently greater actions, my first step is to change the limitations my socialized imagination by inserting characters of colour into contemporary western stories that I read to challenge normalized ideas of white bodies as a neutral or default characters, and secondly to continue reading novels by various African authors past and present.

Books by various African authors

My favourite novels by African authors:
1. Ambiguous Adventure - Cheikh Hamidou Kane (Senegal)
2. Tsotsi - Athol Fugard (South Africa)
3. Tales Told by the Son of Kenya - Aggrey Chepkwony Sambay (Kenya) 
4. Going Down River Road - Meja Mwangi (Kenya)
5. A Grain of Wheat - Ngugi wa Thiong'o (Kenya)
6. Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe (Nigeria)
7. On To Kilimanjaro - Brain Gardner (this book is an exception because is not by an African author, but it gives you a very clear definition between self representation, and othering )

If you're a book worm like me, don't let the book monsters take away the ability to exercise your imagination by keeping truly reflective stories out of reach. Go out and look for a good book.

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

P.S. If you are interested look up Roots (Alex Haley) vs.The African (Harold Coulter)...a really interesting back story to our friend Kunta Kente and the so called "timeless American Saga"