Fashion as Activism: Sparking Necessary Conversations

My sun // always remember // your light is not on a dimmer […]

Through love // my Sun // you are a healer to a mighty sum

excerpt from Solis: A Love Letter

Today I cried, inside a Pavillions with a stranger. Together, we made a scene, people heard and people saw. They saw two compassionate women in pain expressing outrage through tears, swear words, too many unanswered questions and a mutual empathy for humanity. We connected about our devastation. that there are children who are separated from their families and left alone at our borders. Why  is this shit happening? This isn’t right! Can I send breastmilk? Can I go to them, hold them, hug them, be a wetnurse? Send them to our homes! We didn’t and don’t care about the politics or the buearacracy or congress or “laws”. THESE are our children, get them back to their parents NOW. TODAY! Why is that not happening? This should be an immediate cease and desist, open the gates! It was a moment that we both needed to share today. Pure vulnerability.

What sparked this connection was relatively small, unexpected…or was it? The impetus? A pair of earrings. My Black Power fists, a symbol of solidarity, strength and resistance. An intentional accessory led to an uncomplicated invitation. A simple “I like your earrings” effortlessly accepted, “Thank you. I wear them to spark conversation and there’s a lot going on in this country that we need to be talking about.” And that was it. A few sentences casually tossed together to create the space that two spiritual sisters needed to connect, break, release and fortify.

Black Power Fists

Sinea, 

  My new soul sister friend, our energy intensified and was set on fire when we came together today. Keep your compassion alive, your vibrancy, stay on this path with your Warrior self. We need to be strong because we have work to do, work for those that are unable to. You are a part of the solution for the families whose lives they are trying to destroy. Thank you for reminding me that WE can and do move mountains. Humbled and honored to have shared space with you today. . ❤ J

By the time our communion closed, Sinea was in front of me and we held each other in a Divine embrace for a long time, fusing our light, energy so thick you could float on it. We committed to using our platforms, our voices and to take action. We cannot be complacent when there’s so much work to be done. So now,

: What can we do? :

  • Baby2Baby is collecting basic essentials to create bundles of highly needed items for immigrant children through their partnership with Kids in Need of Defense (KIND). Click here in  to purchase directly from the registry.
  • Here’s an actual factual article to help you understand the atrocities that have been happening, Slate has done a great job of updating this article almost daily to include more and more organizations that are being of service.
  • We can also write to the babies via the angels at Southwest Key Programs. Check out the info in the graphic below.

letters to kids

To everyone reading, DO something. Use your platforms, your voice, your dollars. These conversations are necessary, crying together is illuminating and healing. Hug each other (consensually) and ignite each other’s souls to do the work that we are meant to do. Make a difference in whatever way you can today, because you CAN. Trust.

– xOx

UPDATE :

Just learned of Melania Trump’s ridiculousness. This is how it’s done Mrs. Trump.

 

Pregnancy and Weed

Candles glow // I close eyes for the wishes I blow // Seeds I sow // For the chance to know // Your healing soul // Grow Flower grow.

This week I had the honor of guest writing for the blog, Jane Dope, “a blog by and for women who love Cannabis.” on the super taboo topic of using cannabis while pregnant. In the article, I share my personal thoughts and experiences. Here’s an excerpt:

“I’m a planner and a researcher living a hippie lifestyle. I don’t just put anything into or on my body without proper investigation, so to smoke during my pregnancy was a conscious choice.” 

I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to share my story on a female-driven platform for other conscious Mama tokers. I hope that it can bring some understanding to those that may judge us and also share a light with those who feel alone or even ashamed by their cannabis use.

Peep the full story here.

weed and pregnancy 1
A gloriously full 10 months pregs!

– xOx

#Enough! // “When the bullet strikes”

For over a century // We have helped hunters and saviors and warriors // We were made to ensure safety // But we are ending up too often in the wrong hands… excerpt from When the bullet strikes by Idris Goodwin

In October 2016 I was part of the Los Angeles team that produced The Every 28 Hours Festival, a collection of 72 one-minute plays centered around a study from 2012 that showed “that every 28 hours a black person was extrajudicially killed by vigilante, security guard, or the police in the United States.” The play festival was sparked in 2014 by the events in Ferguson and created by Claudia Alick “developed with The Oregon Shakespeare Festival and The One-Minute Play Festival with over one-hundred artistic collaborators across the country. Collaborators include Tony award-winning artists, activists, family members directly affected by police violence, politicians, cultural organizers, and law enforcement.” In February 2017, my co-producers and I were commissioned to mount another production at Cal State Dominguez Hills. This month, March 2018, we must continue the conversation because it wasn’t just a one-off production for us, but a message and a movement that we must continue, to stand, to march and resist. In support of our youth and the March For Our Lives, we bring you a video collaboration of the one minute play When the bullet strikes by Idris Goodwin, one of original collaborators and writers for The Every 28 Hours Play Festival. I’m looking forward to the year that this is a memory of a festival that we produced and not something we have to continue to add names to.

In memory of Stephon Clark.

– xOx