so i blog: photography

[c o m m e n c e r]

i haven't blogged in seventeen days. long enough for me to displace the habit, short enough for me to color in the spaces in between. by condensing multiple moments from the past two weeks into one blog, i've conquered my own nagging question of just how was i going to post what's been going on these past two weeks. t'was my affinity for words and tales and books that guided me towards my present themed solution..

overkill: a tale of vii chapters

by s. badiyah austin

• • • • • • • • • • • • •

( i )

i hadn't been on public transportation in two years and it showed. my traditional outdoor, 'speak to everyone' friendliness has been temporarily reduced to nothing more than shy smiles, awkward stares and minimal photo captures. my senses, flushed with the gush of natural winter air (my jeep seats are heated, and i rarely wear a coat), was culturally in shock by the sudden surge of energy. smiling folks, down-trodden folks and folks who gave head nods in place of 'hellos' floated in and out of my mind's view at random times. i watched, huddled privately in the divided seats on the broad street train line, through tinted black glass, as hundreds of people, sharing the same space, lived their lives completely oblivious to the other people living lives right beside them. i passed time guessing the destination of random passengers: mid-morning commuters made up of school bound teens, no less than fashionably late (of course and the anxious, fretful 'cubicle employees' (mostly women) donning stockings and sweat socks and sneakers for comfort - and the miscellaneous pan handler silently asking for change using only the sound of coins jingling in a can.

being away from this part of humanity, for so long, was overwhelming. taking in every bit of the scene that i could, i turned around and furiously cried into my tripled wrapped thin cotton scarf. my auntie is sick, my father's sister, and i am heading to the very hospital where i found out he might die in, the very hospital that was all too willing to let him do so, before my aunt had him moved to the cancer treatment center. this is all too much. i should have taken the local. god knows i had no clue that the express would get me here faster than the time it takes for me to dry my eyes.

( ii )

i was at the hospital for all of five hours before my mother called and told me that toots was sick. a fever that spiked to 103° was keeping my 'littles' sleepy and listless while worrying my mother enough to actually call me (because grand-moms are moms to the 2nd power, they mostly handle things in their own out-dated, yet, healing way). thus, the next few days was spent wiping down my over-heated baby with cool cloths, filling her up with fruit and fluids and uplifting her spirits with kisses, stories, games and a homemade tent my mother fashioned over her bed. she spent so much time in the arms of those who love and nurture her, i'm sure to have a rotten, soon-to-be healed toddler on my hands.

( iii )

when life gets emotionally hectic, i go inside myself, remaining calm and quiet until the chaos passes (hence the lack of blogging). sometimes, though, there is a loved one standing beside me, who meets me in the calm and quiet, and waits out the chaos with me.

my neighbor, and friend, kim has been my emotional 'go-to' person as of late. in fact, we have become each others emotional 'go to' people. our friendship is a growing one, one that seemingly sprang out of no where, one that i cherish in it's quaint existence. i'm not sure when it turned from casual waves and hellos in passing, to hugs and 'i love you' when time has passed, but i'm grateful for it in every way. her friendship has been a healing one and her home is a beautiful reflection of the calm and ease her energy provides.

i stopped over her house one evening, before heading to the super market, and was met with wine, comfort and peaceful conversation while she fried turkey burgers on the stove for her house full of testosterone (her husband, her two sons and bootsie, their adorable pug). i couldn't help but snap just a smidgen of her kitchen decor, as it's like a pier imports catalog and i just loooove me some pier imports.

( iv )

unlike the grief that shadowed last year's birthday, this birthday was a peaceful one for the twinkin and i. him turning 30 and i, turning 33, was spent in a quiet evening over dinner at bonefish grill. we laughed, we talked and relished in the 30+ years we've spent sharing this day together. i suppose, in the truest sense of the word, he is my best-friend. we share an unspeakable bond, one that i cherish more than words convey, one that reveals itself in the moments when either of us is ailing and even more in the adorable spaces that exist between him and my child.

me: (pulls up photo to add here)

toots: (gasp) is that uncle albe?! i want to go see uncle albe.

me: he lives far away.

toots: (thinking and smiling) then i want to go see uncle albe...far away.

he spoiled her relentlessly for the entire week he was here (subsequently, coupled with the 'fever' love, i am dealing with an adorably rotten almost 3 year old) and we spoiled each other with an abundance of love, care and jovial attention. he leaves for a year, maybe two, in january and i am already feeling that familiar ping of "missing" that comes with each and every departure overseas, making this visit, this birthday, a beautifully heavy one for us both to cherish.

( v )

"you can't love a city if you have no memories buried there "

and this one has, both, the best and the worst of mines.
t'is why i loathe it to the core of me, and love it with the whole heart of me.
but also why i am working with every bit of energy to move myself and my child out of this gawd awful, magical city.

( vi )

fever gone, but congestion still there, this was the first day toots was feeling exceptionally like herself and i believe cabin fever had begun to settled in. in an ode to mixing things up a bit, i decided to remix our traditional style of arts and crafts for a more interactive experience. using the black, wooden shelves from an old book shelf of mines, toots and i officially created our first collaborative piece together (due to be hung on our walls shortly). after our canvas session was done, i let her paint her entire hand, front and back, with a mirage of colors that matched her present mood at the time: happy, calm and adorably chaotic :)

i smile.

one of things i'm most proud of in toots, is her awesome self-expression. she can use a variety of complex words and sentences, sing at the drop of a dime (complete with doo wop adlibs and a theatrical 'thank you, why, thank you so much' bow at the end) and create art in such intricate ways i marvel. i mean, she can draw a whole face (eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair, the whole sha-bang) and taught herself to draw an almost perfect circle by doing it over and over again until she deemed it adequate. thus, i took great pride in the detail and, almost, serious way in which she approached our collaborative project. i'm excited to spend a lifetime creating and exploring new ways to express the art of loving and being and living through any and every medium she desires.

( vii )

no story here. i treated myself to new boots for my birthday and they didn't arrived until this day. toots was uber excited to see a box as big as she and was all too eager to sit at the very top of it. i snapped some pics to post in the review section of macys online (because i am neurotic about everything, even online reviews) and have since found some cool ideas to do with the cardboard box my boots came in on pin interest that i'm über excited to get started with.

[ f i n ]

the first year of toots life was rocky. her mommy's brain was sick and then she was healing. her mommy's faith was shook and then she was praying. her mommy's father was sick and then and she was grieving...(a deep, seemingly endless, still springs up out of nowhere, type of grief).

so, on days when her 'terrible two' takes a turn for the worst, i remember that she's dealt with major emotional change since the day she was born and simply expresses it in all the beautifully draining ways that toddlers can do: tantrums. stubborn defiance. coloring on walls or floor boards or windows that her mommy sometimes colors on, too.

she's my child in every sense i could imagine. creative, emotional, dramatically expressive. and on days like these past few ones have been, i take stock of all that makes her a ball of goodness in my eyes, because sometimes she's a just tiny stranger with a tornado in place of her emotions.

but, she knows her birthday, her abc's and all the letters to her name. knows, too, that a diamond is a rhombas and happily declares it when spotted on stain-glass windows or on sides of milk crates stacked high against concrete storefronts. she counts to twenty effortlessly and can now recite a tiny poem in sign language. she loves books and libraries and telling me bedtime stories rich with dragons and princesses and flying frogs on flying carpets. she'll choose an apple over candy and drinks water before apple juice all on her very own accord.

i am extremely proud...and in awe...and overwhelmed...and in love...and, sometimes, drained, but, always grateful, that i get to be the mother to this little girl. with eyes like my father and the spirit of her grands, i am learning that all of me lives in the very core of who this sweet, amazingly beautiful soul is.