Welcome to the blog! I’d like to chat about some things in response to the Charlotte Agenda article that was released last week.
I took part in this interview sitting at the mural with Michael back at the end of June, the types of questions he asked allowed the conversation to flow fluidly and the dialogue we had was interesting and enriching. It allowed me to talk about my story out loud and think of all the steps that led to painting that street. Now that it’s been out for a week and I’ve reread it a couple of times, there are a few thoughts I want to express and connections I’d like to share that didn’t make it into our conversation. I realize that this is a lengthy post but I sincerely appreciate all that read it, and I’m glad that that article is what led me to dust off my ol blog skills to bring this to you now.
The article mentions that I went to the barbershop to get my lifelong locs cut off before basic, and for brevity’s sake, that line could almost serve its purpose, that to join the Air Force I had to cut my locs, which weren’t allowed. Which is true, although thousands of people may remember that it went down a little differently. I didn’t go to a barbershop to get them cut, but I gently combed them out, tediously undoing the 5+ years of intertwining that my hair did naturally. It was 5 years prior that I’d started making Youtube videos. I’d attracted up a sizable audience right at the emergence of the natural hair movement, where many black people were looking for resources and ideas about how to embrace, manage, and care for their hair in its natural state.
During those years, people that I didn’t even know around the world became invested in the hair growing from my head. Although my channel wasn’t centered on hair, my hair became what drew so many people to me. So not only was removing these now mature locs a huge moment for me, it was for thousands of people that watched my videos and only knew me with them. I documented the combing out process in a video tutorial that I posted for other people that wanted to take out their locs on their own, without going to a barbershop to remove them. I wanted to show another option of parting ways with your hair and the people who had been around from when my hair didn’t quite touch my ears, now got to bear witness to me removing them, one by one as they cascaded down my back.
To get a sense of just how impactful that process was, 8 years and close to 400,000 views later, if you do a search on how to remove dreadlocks without cutting them, this video is still sitting on the first page of results that populate.
Without even going into just how much removing my hair affected my identity thus having to form a new one outside of my hair, that video and that journey was a huge catalyst for me since I was cutting them off to join the military which was a decision that shocked me just as much as people who knew me both from the web and those that knew me beyond the screen. I spent years inviting others to embrace the hair that grew out of their head then willingly joined an system that created rules that stated that my hair in its natural state of deemed as forbidden, unprofessional and unkempt. The impact my hair left on people was (and still is) real and I’m glad I have this space to clear that up. Whew.
4 years in, and now I’m just days shy of being 4 years out.
I’d say that I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like when I returned to the civilian world. But I knew what I wanted my freedom to feel like, for sure. And it’s only now on the other side of that, that I continue to make connections between how I move in the world now, and the situations that led to allowing me to do it with ease.
For instance, I think of how I didn’t meditate much before the military and that it wasn’t until after that I realized I’d developed what I feel is a high level skill being able to center in my own stillness, a call back to having to do that while standing formation in temperatures that were both sweltering and frigid, or amidst reciting a reporting statement while standing in a gas chamber without a mask on, or living in extremely close quarters with 50+ other women for 2 months. I admire how I’m able to go to a place of centeredness at will, where I allow a sense of peace to wash over me no matter the external circumstances. I think of how my work as a live figure model ties into that same stoicism and discipline I learned in the Air Force. Whether I’m fully nude or in full uniform, I’ve mastered the art of being able to be solid and hold physically and otherwise for large swatches of time.
Following my training, I did work at what we could call an office job albeit not at a cubicle, which is an important distinction to make because honestly, I would’ve preferred a cubicle! I would’ve loved a carefully placed partition to relegate me to a designated space in which to work away from the view of others. However, I worked in an open space environment, sharing computers and desks with those who were on shift before or after mine. As someone who tends to float in their own world and thrives in their own bubble, working in an open concept workplace was tough for me. Having to see or talk people, and drown out other’s conversations on top of the CNN (although muted) imagery that was constantly in the background. It was a lot, but I got through it. I accepted. I adapted.
Night shift has it's own pros and cons, but I spent a good portion of my service working nights and I preferred it to day shifts because it meant for reduced interactions and a quieter time. It was more low key and more my speed. Sitting at my desk is when I got my best drawing in. I’d buy special pens that I’d only use at work as a way for me to look forward to being there and load up on snacks to keep me goin through the morning. I brought in an exercise ball to use instead of an office chair to switch things up a bit, and I’d sit there and draw at 3 in the morning to stay awake. Meandering my pen across the pages of the paper as the ever present CNN feed in my peripheral vision shifted from the endless loop of inescapable doom to *new* episodes of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown which I appreciated.
It took me years and therapy to get there but eventually, I began to learn how to accept and adapt to my situation and get the most out of it while simultaneously counting down the days until I could truly live my best civilian life again.
2012. 2014. 2016.
That same adaptability that I gained in the military spills over into fluidity I’ve kind of always had about my life, landing in situations and opportunities that seem to be made for me, revealing themselves to me at the most opportune time. Now I’m aware of this dance, and I continue to waltz toward the scenarios and people and circumstances that always exceed my expectations. When it comes to looking for the magic, I like of guess what’s going to happen before it happens. I envision what the perfect outcome would be, and oftentimes I walk right into that. Because the scenarios that I want to experience, also want to experience me.
And that’s why I had a strong feeling that I was bound to be a part of a large collaborative and impactful project at some point.
They day of the mural I chuckled in a moment of realization as I was getting ready to paint next to John Hairston Jr. , but there were layers to that full circle moment. I was also having a flashback to a few seconds before I even opened the email to see what letter I’d have, and asking myself which letter I’d want. It was easy, I’d want the first or the last letter (B or R) or a letter that I’m familiar with already, such as one in my name (A or R or I).
And there I stood in the center of that R soaking in every moment of this actualized manifestation to my core. The moment was so right for me and every single person I shared space with out there. It was right for us.
Photo and edit by John Roberts IG @cray.ward
I want to wrap this up by talking about what it means for me to look for the signs. Whether in the form of colors, shapes numbers or animals or anything really. It varies and I have to define that for myself. A few weeks ago I was looking up at the sky, having a bit of a low day. A gazed at the clouds with my head back and tears in my eyes, reaching a familiar point that so many of us have felt before. I asked out loud and telepathically to be shown a sign that I was okay and on the right track. I mean, I knew I was on the right track. But I just needed some confirming reassurance that day. I need a real boost. I thought of what kind of sign to ask for and I knew it had to be distinct that I would know without a doubt it more than a fluke.
At first, I asked for a specific shape to be shown in a cloud.
Nah, that could easily be misconstrued. I thought. I needed a definitive sign, to know that I was good and all was well. I changed my sign from an abstract cloud formation to something specific. So I asked the sky, to not only show me a perfect circle, but for it to be in an unlikely place, and in a place that only I can see. A tall order, but that, my friends is the level of confirmation that I continue to seek and I’m never let down. My belief in the external is validated by my experience and the magic I speak of is those requests that I put out returning themselves to me in mind-blowing, peculiar and comical ways.
I’ve learned that I have to validate this relationship to the divine/source/The Universe in ways that is fitting for me. I ask and I receive it. Time and time again. I stated my request once more, mentally and out loud, rooted and firm and thanked the skies in advance and held tight to the fact that my request would be granted just like I asked.
The following day, less than 24 hours later, I’m in my studio preparing to paint, I opened up a container in a set of paints that I’d had for a couple of months, I just hadn’t used the red yet. Today was the day for red, because I was recreating that same color scheme from the R, and as I took the top off of the container, I sat back in amazement. A wave of knowing washed over me. I wrapped myself in the moment, relishing that the reminder I knew I would get, would produce this same feeling. I was once again sitting in scene that I’d imagined. I chuckled.
There it was. Clear as day. Perfect circle. (x2!) For my eyes only.
Well played, Universe.