Buck Naked: Muses, Truths and Art

Buck Naked Dress
%100 Cotton
Vitenge from Morogoro, Tanzania
Wax print from Nigeria

[Image description: A brown skinned person is standing up with their arms at their sides. The person is wearing a lose fitting orange, yellow and white knee-length dress with circular designs. They have on a wrist full of colourful beaded bracelets and big earrings. They also have a green and purple headwrap on their head and a coy unimpressed smiles. In the background is an orange wall with an assortment of feathered head pieces.]

I just finished reading the book Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison. Whenever I read books by black female authors it takes me a really long time to get through, because I see myself. The words I read represent and speak to parts of me, some which I have confronted and others I haven't. I feel naked and exposed. Despite how captivating the book is, far too often I find myself putting it down, dwelling on passages that struck me then revisiting the book days or even weeks later.

In the forward by Toni Morrison she talks about the mystery surrounding the creative process erected by artists. She says that muses represented as a voice, an invisible guiding hand or a grey area are safeguards...inventions to avoid answering the question "Where do you get your ideas from?" for fear that if we know the intimate details of our process that it would fade away. I sat and thought for a long time about what this might mean for me. Where do I get inspiration from and what is behind the ambiguity of it all? 

I saw this diagram that fed into my question of inspiration that got me thinking. Living in a afroblack, queer, gender kaleidoscope body (that can be read as female/a woman) that exists in a society that is violently patriarchal, racist and classist (among many other fucked up realities) that furthermore tells us we should be meek, docile or humble in the face of those realities is a hot mess! When I make art that says "I am" or represents what is "Mine" it is recognizing my own power. It's a radical and deeply political act. To be self-centered, selfish, having excessive interest in myself as suggested by absolute narcissism is to reject the ways that we are told to act in the face of gross realities. So absolute narcissism, where all the art I make has always been about my experiences in this world and my interpretation of those experiences? Nah, in the words of Audre Lorde caring for myself is self-preservation. Crippling self doubt about my existence and survival in this world, yeah. 

I made this dress two weeks ago, the day before going back to school. School has been an endless journey for me and a heavy schedule weighs me down, so I started getting anxious and freaking out. To give myself space to breathe and meditate I got into it with my sewing machine and this T-Shit Dress tutorial by Ovoke. I also really hate wearing clothes, especially under wear. So, I decided to make this lose fitting dress that gives me all the comfort and coziness I need to confront the tasks ahead. Anxiety and a nudy booty acted as a muse for my creative process.

Art intersects with the many layers of our identities. Indulge in and confront yourself. Create and express your truths. 

                        

"First off she cut her hair. That was one thing she didn't want to have to think about anymore. Then she tackled the problem of trying to decide how she wanted to live and what was valuable to her. When am I happy and when am I sad and what is the difference? What do I need to know to stay alive? What is true in the world? Her mind traveled crooked streets and aimless goat paths, arriving sometimes at profundity, other times at the revelations of a three-year-old." - Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison (1977)

                          

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Do Eit: Crochet Tank Top

DO EIT
Crochet Tank Top
%100 Wool

My mantra for this year has been Do Eiitt. There are so many things I always tell myself I want to do, but somehow never get around to doing them. Whether it is from doubting my own capabilities and strengths, being held back by fear or being told I can't, sometimes I find myself lacking the confidence to act on the things I decide are of value to me.

It has always been along lived fantasy of mine to have a head of purple hair. When I cut my locs off all I longed for was to have a bald purple head. Wavering in confidence about acting on the idea, I remember speaking with a good friend of mine looking for some consultation on the matter. I found I was discouraged. I was told that "it wouldn't suit my complexion" and when I asked why I was told that "it would look better on someone who was lighter skinned." Hum. For a while I truly believed the misplaced judgment of my friend because they are someone I trust. Despite so desperately longing to have a bald purple head, for months I walked around with the idea that I was too dark to rock it. Too dark...I thought about that for a long time, how could I be too dark to do something? I also wondered, how could I let someone else perspectives, values, and beliefs shape and subdue my own?

I made this crochet tank top because I saw a shirt just like it that I couldn't afford, but being held back my financial restrictions most def wasn't gonna stop me. I told myself "I can make that, so do eit!" It took a while to get it just right, required starting over, many hours and a lot of trust in my crochet abilities and imagination, but finally I came out with a project I am really proud of! And just like my (now) purple bald head, having the confidence to act on what I decide to do is a part of honoring my mantra.

Whether it is because I choose not to shave my armpits, choose to cut off my locs, have purple hair, live a budgeted lifestyle, my choice of clothes or whatever, I decided that I wouldn't allow people to police me, my body or values. Hence Do Eiitt. Sometimes it is scary to act on the things we truly want and believe in for ourselves for a number of reasons: there may be a threat of violence in our lives, we may lose friends or loved ones, fear of the unknown, regret and so on. What I have learned on this journey so far is that working towards fostering trust in ourselves and having people who support us goes a long way in helping us to be who and how we want to be. Be brave, be you!

Breathe. Remember you can do eit!

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

Top Rankin' Inna Crochet Halter Back

Top Rankin'
Crochet Halter Top
100% Wool

Top Rankin'
Crochet Halter Top
100% Wool

Do you have one of those songs that instantly makes you feel sexy? A song you hear that makes you feel every single thing you have going on and leaves you affirming the very beauty of your existence? 'Uptown Top Ranking' released in 1977 by then teenagers Athela Rose Forrest & Donna Marie Reid is just that song for me. I get immersed in the tune and find myself enveloped in a bout of self love that is almost inexplicable. I dance around my room, smile, sing along, imagine warm sunshine and feel like a boss besh in my own right. So I figured why not pay respect to a song that brings me so much joy? Top Rankin crochet beaded halter top is to celebrate the feeling of sexiness that comes from within that we all deserve!

Uptown Top Ranking - Althea & Donna
"See me pon the road I hear you call out to me

True you see mi inna pants and ting

See mi in a 'alter back

Sey mi gi' you heart attack

Gimme likkle bass, make me wine up me waist

Smiles :)

Tuly Maimouna

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