"Everything is Amazing and Nobody is Happy"

I secretly worry that the above sentiment expressed by comedian Louis CK is true most of the time. More than ever these days, myself included, people, children, we're all looking down into our mobile devices rather than at one another. I think the book was the first form this kind of distraction I ever employed as a young person. Except a book is not exactly a distraction. You're focused on a consistent narrative expressed by another human being which hopefully helps to connect you with human experience, rather than distract you from it. At least that's what it did for me. Reading is still very dear and intimate to me. But I find myself pulling out my smartphone in public and social settings for very different reasons than I would a book.

Louis CK's explanation of why he hates smart phones, though initially a bit crude and pessimistic (this is his comedic style) hits pretty close to home for me particularly in so far as it pertains to children. I don't hate smart phones on the whole but I do often hate the ways in which we as humans use them to disconnect from one another and I can only imagine that a smartphone in the hands of a child who has not yet learned the importance of looking up and being aware of whom and what is around you, eye contact when communicating and very simple things like not always blocking out unpleasant feelings that arise by playing Candy Crush, can be hugely problematic. Wait, I do that. But the point is I can also not do that. I know that I won't explode if I put my phone away and look at people. I can't imagine having had a cell phone, let alone a smart phone when I was in high school. I definitely hid books in my desk during boring lectures but a book doesn't text you back, doesn't send photo's, play music, and send alerts about the new release of Portlandia Seaosn 3 on Netflix. I feel so sorry for teachers who have to compete with smartphones to get the their student's attention. I just don't know how that works.

Feeling Like Unplugging

It's been a while. It's been a long while. There's been wedding plans made, breakthroughs/breakdowns, Mandela passing, "Scandal" Finale,  Beyonce's album,  and it's almost the end of another year on this planet. What I'm trying to say is, I'm ready to deactivate my facebook account for a while and make a start to the New Year Facebook free.

I always used to think that people who quit facebook were overdoing it. Like really? You can't handle it? You can't hang? But now I can see, we all have our reasons. We all have our limits and I've reached mine. It's not even forever, just for awhile. All I ever do anymore is think about what I did before facebook, what life was like before facebook and from what I can recall, I miss it. I don't know what I will accomplish when I leave but I do know that when or if I return, I don't want it to feel so much like a vast gaping hole of a headquarters for fragmented connections on important issues. I'm totally guilty of it. Vagueness, cryptic phrases, dropping and disappearing, posting and running, making too much of nothing. Making too little of something huge. But all through this media and never really touching anything or anyone.

You know what it's like?

Seven years ago, when I first started working at the job where I now currently employed I was given a copy of the time sheet I needed to fill out for full time civil service employees. That I know of, there is no "original" copy of this timesheet. If hard copies of this time sheet disappear forever, we don't have a pdf anywhere that I know. We operate in the stone age here as you may gather by now. So anyway, I have to make sure I have a stock of copies of this time sheet at all times, because if we run out of clean copies that's it. We aren't well equipped. Often I used to wonder, what did the original time sheet look like before it was copied into infinity? Where is it? Who created it? I will never know. I will only ever know copies, never the original. Never the source. That's how I feel about a lot of social media. That we as humans have become simulators of other peoples opinions, creations, ideas, but no longer care about the source, the origin. Everything is just copies, quotes, forwards and......likes. Very rarely do we make anything and then share it in a first person way anymore. Instagram is the new sharing device, literally. No one takes anyone places anymore. We armchair travel. I do it all the time. And because we armchair travel, shop, communicate and share, we don't actually move, touch, or feel the way we used to. We don't experience. We don't live the way we used to.

To some extent I understand that there is no going back, that giving up facebook does not mean taking back everything that came before because time has literally become re-circuited by social media. It gives us the illusion that we can hold on to everything. When I'm at my dad's and I see the old photos he's taken of me over the years, I take pictures of them with my phone. I don't need the hard copy anymore. I don't need the original, the source. I don't need the knowledge of darkroom photography, developing with chemicals, winding celluloid around a metal spool in a velvet bag. All the back story dissolves in a second as the photo is reborn in the world of social media as this new thing to people who don't know me, don't know my dad, don't know the story of the photo, how and why it was made. It is now remade for digital public consumption by people I know as well as people I will never meet, never know, people not even in this country.  It's astounding, amazing, frightening. Andy Warhol sure knew what he was talking about.

Anyway, quitting facebook is only one step in my attempt at liberating myself from my internet addiction. I would never delude myself to think I could give up the internet completely, nor do I feel it's necessary, at least not for me. And I still love my private IG account, because I only follow people that inspire me and it's very different than Facebook. It's easier for me handle. Facebook is a very special kind of monstrous hub that all internet roads seem to lead back to. It's all about who is using it and what it's being used for. And I've lost touch of what I really use it for. At first it was about keeping in contact with friends and old friends but then it was also a bit about stalking and spying. Then it was about games, some of them actually creative (remember graffiti?) and connecting to people that way. Then it became about sharing media, sharing ideas, sharing video, sharing photos, sharing statuses, sharing sharing sharing, liking liking liking, hating hating hating and changing your profile picture and "Scandal." LOL!

I just need a break. I need a break and if I come back, I hope to be like one of those people you never hear from. I have a friend and co-worker I really like who never ever does anything on his facebook account although he has one. And it used to annoy the hell out of me. Even though I see him like everyday and talk to him at least every week, I'd get really annoyed if we hung out on the weekend or something and I posted or tagged him in a commemorative photo knowing he would never look at it or respond to it! ARRRGGHH!! So what if I spent a lovely day with you and other mutual friends in real life! It's not real until you "like" the photo I took of you laughing uproariously and drinking a beer.

But at the same time I really admire him. It's not a struggle for him to stay away from facebook. He has other unrelated addictions probably. Facebook is not one of them. God Bless. I strive towards something like that.

It's not like I'm not still on twitter (not much), tumblr (still don't get it), flickr,  instagram and pinterest.

SO HAPPY 2014!!!! 

...just not on facebook.

Remembering a Friend

Across Brooklyn Bridge

And then I remembered the time we cut a Washington DC demonstration to go to the mall. I’m not sure how it happened.  We were committed to the cause but somehow we ended up in the mall eating fast food and looking at sterling silver jewelry together. You bought me a snake ring.

Further back, I remember that amazing walk we took on the Campus of Brown University. It was Winter at the time and the campus completely covered with snow, was like a wonderland. And we were lost in it for a bit like two of the only people left in the world. We had no idea how extensive Brown’s campus was.  It was the first College town we had ever visited. I remember we bought matching chartreuse colored hoodies at the Gap. It was nighttime when we entered a record store and I bought the album “Make it Big” by Wham on cassette tape. For a long time whenever I heard the song “What she wants” I thought of you and the way you smelled on that trip. 

We went to see “Mississippi Masala” together at a campus theater. There was not a lot of attention paid to that film. There was a lot of touching and kissing and hickeys, which garnered their share of teasing from our classmates. But I never felt ashamed. I felt very lucky to be there with you although I felt you were very forward and your affection put a significant amount of pressure on me, because you thought so much more of me than I felt I could take responsibility for. 

I remember us all being in the gymnasium pool together. How skinny we both were then and how I let my long legs entangle with yours under the water. How I enjoyed the feel of your skin on mine. I was careful to get out of the pool in a certain way so that no one would notice my flaws. Outside in the night air I remember you touching the skin of my back under my green denim jacket. I was still wearing my backless one piece bathing suit. Was it my old Eva Joia Gitano bathing suit? Probably. The same one I wore to Barbados one summer, the summer I almost drowned.

I remember you touched my back very gently, very lovingly as if it was more than just my back. We were standing on the steps of some building in a student campus quad, just out of the swimming pool at night and into dry clothes. I went to the dorm of a young woman whose face I can never recall who hosted me for a weekend. I sat on the corner of the bed and listened to Wham and I could smell you.

The Jungle The Jungle The Brothers The Brothers

Jungle Brothers: SummerStage 2013

So when I heard the Jungle Brothers were going to perform for Summerstage 2013 at Marcus Garvey Park I flipped out. I don't remember exactly when I first heard them but I feel like my BFF, V. put me on to  them when we were in high school. "Done by the Forces of Nature" was an album that just did things to me. I had never, have never heard anything like it before or since. It was fun, free, educational, proud, pro-black, pro human, pro-human, pro sexual, pro spiritual, pro funk, rap, house, dance, collaborative. It was so many things and they were all things I could get down with. The album dropped in '89 but I didn't hear it until one summer in the early 90s and it was one of the best Summers of my life. I hear DBFN and I remember hanging out with V in Greenwich village and our quasi hippy love tendencies, the whole resurgence of black pride and wearing your hair natural, Brand Nubians, A Tribe Called Quest and De-La Soul.  This was our comfort zone.The era that fit us like a glove, something that was a mixture of the Black pride influence of our parents time and the neo soul, rap hip-hop culture of our own.

I had ripped down all my Teen Beat, Tiger Beat, Teen Bop white posters and replaced them with posters from Right-on, Yo and Black Beat. My walls were covered with New Edition, Bobby Brown, Tribe Called Quest, Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince, Eddie Murphy, etc. I remember the one poster I ever found of the JBs and I loved it. I fell in love with Afrika immediately. He was the light skinned, sexy freak who looked like he was perpetually high.

My dad took me and V. to see them in concert at the Apollo and we screamed until our voices were gone for this man. It's so funny. That was the first and only time I ever saw them in person. But I remember the feeling so well. It was so full of fun, and love and creativity and silliness. And last night was the same. "Remember when hip-hop was fun?" I do. And you could tell that the majority of people out there were true hip-hop fans. It was a very old school vibe. I felt totally at ease around people who just came out to dance, have fun and see some people who they love perform from the heart. Dres, from Black Sheep were there. Special Ed was there and Nairobi from Tribe was there! It was so good to see him. I couldn't even believe it. I was so glad I came because I was not in the greatest mood beforehand but I told myself I had to get out and make myself feel better.

There was maybe a second or two when I might have thought that the JBs may not be able to deliver the way they used to. You know, life can do that to the best of us. But after Sammy B came out to warm up the turn tables, I knew we were in for some love and goodness. Two MCs and one DJ. No props or sets or light shows or gimmicks. I was so happy for those two hours I couldn't believe it. The JBs familiar energy just drew me in. I was so open I couldn't help it. And everyone around me was open and happy and smiling and dancing.

I'm still very taken with Afrika. I mean now when I think of it, I realize that Babybam is hard to define as just a rapper or performer or music maker. He is and always has been beyond labeling which is probably why I love him so much. He's so damn laid back and relaxed while at the same time full of energy. He's from Brooklyn (like all good things) and age has not impeded his spirit at all. He wore a t-shirt with a light cardigan, loose fitting pants and trademark sunglasses. At one point I noticed his sandals (yes, sandals) were off and he was just jumping around the stage like a kid. *sigh*
There is just something really sexy to me about any performer, male or female who performs barefoot. There's such trust in it and an apparent comfort in ones own skin. I really envy that.

Well that's my Jungle Brothers SummerStage report. I hope your Summer has been filled with fun, friends and inspiration. Stay cool.

Barbie Cometh

This was my very first Barbie Doll ever. She was given to me by my mother one Christmas in the 80s. I don’t remember how old I was but I think we had already moved from Brooklyn to the Bronx. I might have been eleven. She had given me Brooke Shields when I was younger one previous Christmas in Brooklyn but the only concrete memory I have of anticipating Brooke was sneaking to the place where my parents hid the Christmas gifts the night before and sticking my finger in the box just so I could touch her hair which was very soft and thick. That’s pretty much what I liked about Brooke Shields. That’s the only first impression of that doll I can remember.

“Shirelle,” as my first Barbie came to be named by me, was my first ever Barbie doll. Looking back at old sale photos of these now vintage dolls on ebay, I can see for the first time why my first impression of Brooke was not as indelible for me as was Barbie. It was all about the way that Barbie is marketed, namely in the context of sex. The Brooke Shields doll was not marketed this way. She may have been Brooke Shields but she was not Barbie. Their was nothing sexy about the Brooke Shields doll. I now know that this was fully intentional in both respects.

When my mom gave me my first Barbie, I looked at her and saw a sassy, sophisticated, voluptuous black lady.  She had hips and boobs and legs, red heels, a sparkly red evening gown with a high slit on one side and jewelry to match, plus a comb. All of my toys up until then were baby dolls and stuffed toys or dolls that were little girls. Barbie was the first “woman” doll I had ever held or owned. Her big eyes and puckered smiling lips seemed to say she had it all and I couldn’t see where she would have much need for me. Unlike my baby dolls and stuffed animals, Barbie didn’t evoke a need in me to take care of her, or teach her or tell her what to do. In a nutshell, she intimidated me. Shirelle spent a lot of time on her posing stand doing just that, posing and looking fabulous. I had no idea how to integrate her with my other toys.  There were no friends for her or rather no toys that looked like her. I actually didn’t play with her much at all.  Her entrance into my world felt weird and misfitted, kind of like when my godmother would give me handbags as gifts. I loved getting them but I had nothing to put in them, hardly a lip-gloss let alone anything else I could think of. I still shoved my money in my pants pockets. I had not really become a “girl” in quite that way yet. I watched the artifice of it happening from afar, in books and on television and I admired it to be sure but it wasn’t really me. I was more of a bookworm, living in my imagination and projecting it into play on toys that seemed malleable and adaptable to my adventures. I think that the only toys my brother and I played with that already had a popular preconceived narrative were our Star Wars toys. But because I loved the Star Wars narrative and found it seamlessly relatable at the time, it was an easy story to replay and alter and retell in my own way.

Barbie’s preconceived narrative, the real one, not the story designed by Mattel executives, though wholly unknown to me at the time, made me a bit uncomfortable.  I’m very thankful that my mom chose a Black Barbie for me as my first Barbie ever. I’m not sure how it would have sat with me if my first Barbie had been white. I think her “Blackness” eased me into Barbie’s world and gave me license to accept her crazy sexualized proportions. You see, even though my first Barbie was Black, I still got the distinct feel that I was being told something about what it meant to be an adult female through the eyes and mind of someone I could sense vaguely but could not yet identify. And I didn’t like the subterfuge. 

Skin Trade (An Awakening)

Rereading Ann DuCille
Originally uploaded by Zanalee

Re-reading Ann DuCille's "Skin Trade" this morning, it is becoming more and more obvious to me that Whites have been profitting off of the sale of Black skin long after the abolition of slavery and in my side hobby customizing Black Blythe Dolls and in many other ways it has become more obvious to me that Black skin has made and is still making countless amounts of money for whites to this day. For me the truly sick thing about that, aside from the ways in which we as Blacks knowingly or unknowingly support that and the fact that we see little to none of that money ourselves, is that WHITE PEOPLE STILL HATE US!!!

Oh I said it.

The majority of white corporations who re-appropriate and re-package ethnic culture to sell back to us, still think of us as inhuman, inferior, lazy, oversexed, unintelligent, angry, hoodlums.

Yeah. In future entries, I will be listing all of my favorite white owned ethnic culture selling, black hating companies and you can judge for yourself. The media's little post racial fantasy is just a dream or nightmare depending on who is sleeping.

My thing is, if anybody is going to sell "Blackness" to me or anybody, let it be me. Let it be someone who is not attempting to interpret what is means, in order to make a buck but someone who is representing what it means so that we can see this representation reflected in our market in the most honest way possible the way that it is represented globally in life, on the corner, in the metropolitan, in the cities, in our communities, in life!

The exploration, marketing, packaging and selling of "Blackness" has been for too long disproportionately in the hands of non-Black people. Slavery has never ended. There's just too much money it.

Sunday in Park with Cece Olisa

I spent a lovely afternoon working with my dear friend and fashion blogger, Cece Olisa on a photoshoot for her The Big Girl Blog right here in our Harlem neighborhood. The morning sky started out really grey but we managed to catch some really good light in the park and I was really happy with the way the pictures turned out. The image to the right was among my very favorite. I really like everything about it, from the color of Cece's elegant wrap dress, her relaxed pose and facial expression to the seasonal Autumn leaves at her feet and the trees and buildings in the background.

I don't consider myself an expert when it comes to directing people in photoshoots but I've been working with Cece for a while now and It also really helps that she has a strong and clear vision of what she wants. This image is part of the Facebook page Zanography which I created to showcase what I feel is some of my best photographic work. Feel free to visit and "like" me!