“Black Women Breathe Flowers Too”

black women breathe flowers, too.
just because
we are taught to grow them in the lining of our
quiet (our grandmothers secret).
does not mean
we do not swelter with wild tenderness.
we soft swim.
we petal.
we scent limbs.
love.
we just have been too long a garden for sharp
and deadly teeth.
so we
have
grown
ourselves
into
greenhouses.

–greenhouses
nayyirah waheed, salt.

Happy International Women’s Day 2019

Women’s History Month: Let’s Love Each Other Fiercely

The best kinds of friendships are fierce lady friendships, where you aggressively believe in each other, defend each other, and believe the other deserves the world.

My amazing bestie, Aleta, sent me an almost equally amazing “I AM WOMAN” package just in time for Women’s History Month (WHM), and I’m looking forward to sharing a particular set of woman-centered art she included [later, when I feel like tackling the scanning].

Of course, I love all the goodies she included, but the affirming note she enclosed gave me life and an idea for WHM:

This note is a tiny reminder of how awesome a friend, mother, wife, professor, mentor, intellectual powerhouse, and fierce human being you are. Keep living, growing, believing, and pushing for more. It’s promised you!

Her note lit a fire because it came just when I needed that “tiny reminder” of my fierceness. I want to “pay it forward” to others, so along with [or in addition to] the few dozen International Women’s Day postcards I send, I’m going to send similar notes and postcards to many of the women in my life.

Women take a lot of “stuff” from all directions. It can sap our strength and our self-image, so it’s nice to be affirmed and reminded of how truly awesome we are.

Why don’t you join me? Send a quick, encouraging note to the women in your life. All it takes is a few words and a postage stamp.

If all the girls were taught
how to love each other fiercely
instead of
how to compete with each other
and hate their own bodies,
what a different
and beautiful world
we would live in

–Nikita Gill–

#ThursdayTreeLove | You’ve Got a Place Here Too

A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin, and culture is like a tree without roots. –Marcus Garvey

It rained so much during the last two weeks that my heart sang whenever the rain ceased or the sun brightened the skies–even if for only a few moments. As always, I took every opportunity to note the trees.

For some reason I was most drawn to the interaction of the trees: Trees touching. Bare trees mingling with half-dressed trees. Signs of spring and winter in one shot.

I enjoyed witnessing the elements of nature conspiring to push us toward certain awakening.

I read Nikki Giovanni’s poem, “BLK History Month,” earlier today, and I realized how often we use trees to underscore the importance of Black history and presence. And since the final #ThursdayTreeLove of the month falls on the last day of Black History Month (BHM) this year,  I’m ending with Giovanni’s poem, which uses a tree [?] analogy to challenge the argument that BHM is not needed.

“BLK History Month”
If Black History Month is not
viable then wind does not
carry the seeds and drop them
on fertile ground
rain does not
dampen the land
and encourage the seeds
to root
sun does not
warm the earth
and kiss the seedlings
and tell them plain:
You’re As Good As Anybody Else
You’ve Got A Place Here, Too
Nikki Giovanni, from Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea

I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

Silly Haiku: Angry Footless Men?

My son and I were having a conversation recently that reminded me of the “visual haiku” he and his classmates wrote when I took them on an outing last year. Of course, I had to provide an example for them. What do I do when I have to write a haiku “on the spot” for a bunch of sixth graders? I write a silly haiku based on a photo of pansies, of course!

Angry footless men
Glare when I pause for a look
Or, are they…puppies

–Chandra Lynn, Spring 2018–

I Invite You to…

Love Notes 26 just ended. Sort of. I have yet to send my response for the final prompt, but since tonight we’re dealing with the madness of my son’s finishing up his science project, I’m dropping in with my partner’s response to the first prompt: “I invite you to…”

Lynda F, who is an artist, gave me a “ticket to happiness” and collaged a beautiful invitation for the year, written by poet and artist, S.C. Lourie:

Make sure you give considerable time to your dreams this year. Believe in yourself, darling. Make a wish and let it take you on an adventure. Like flowers, may your deepest wishes and dreams blossom in your hands, and those who love you will help them blossom too.  –S.C. Lourie, butterfliesandpebbles

Thank you for these words, Lynda, and for introducing me to another “Instagram Poet.” I’ve been a little obsessed with the “Writers of Instagram” lately.

This year began with an insane amount of craziness [redundant, I know], but I’m going to be a bit more intentional this month about finding quiet moments to figure out life–a little of it at least.

Stay tuned. I’ll be blogging Love Notes from Lynda Wednesday and Friday too!

Written on My Heart | #WordlessWednesday

Losing a loved one does not just make us
painfully aware of their mortality, but our own,
which comes with a great sense of responsibility–

to carry on living our lives a little more
mindfully, purposefully, and wholeheartedly,
now that they cannot

(I miss you and I will always love you) –-Emina Gaspar-Vrana

Today my sister Lori would have celebrated her 56th birthday. In the photo above are the last Christmas gifts she gave me–a brooch representing [us] six sisters joined by hip and heart and a beautiful sister-heart. She gave them to me last January–weeks after her diagnosis–when we made a special trip to New Orleans so she and I could have a sister heart to heart that I didn’t want to have by phone. While I struggle with the cruel reality of two sisters gone, I walk in the knowledge that not even death can remove the imprint of my sisters from my heart.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) –e.e. cummings

Haiku | Bashō | Winter Solitude

Winter solitude
in a world of one color
the sound of wind
Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694)

The “Winter Scene” card above was crafted by my mixed media photography art “inspirer,” Diane W. (midteacher on swap-bot). She sent it to me two years ago, but it has been hiding in a pocket  in my Traveler’s Notebook. Now, that it’s been “found,” the photo creation is an able companion for Bashō’s haiku.