i need a poetry prompt.  

anybody?  anybody?

okay, so it's the middle of National Poetry Month and (simultaneously) ScriptFrenzy month. and i've not written one single stanza or scene. but hopefully that'll change soon. this pregnancy has at the very least kept me inspired and creating.  let's see... i've painted... purchased fabric to make pillows (still pending)... i sing more in my private moments... conceived several short films and at least one concept for a tv series... been to tens of live music concerts (of course)... and hand-ribboned, glittered, and glued baby shower invitations. so my creative energies have been fueled, on fire in fact.  just... no writing.  i'm being merciful because, well, i am gestating.  and i guess that's excuse enough and creation enough for one human being, eh? but, if you, dear reader, have any suggestions for jump-starting my writing efforts, please... share!  i wanna get at least one poem out by month's end. prompts?  anybody?  anybody?

abrazos y besos...

shia 

i NEED to blog!  

i NEED words. i need this moment like i need community.  and for now, this coffee shop full of regulars is what i've got.  the friends i clamored to call upon arrival are still too busy with their lives to make a moment.  and i think they fail to realize how much i need connection right now.  so, i'm here.  again.  finally.  

it’s been a long while since i’ve written anything worth calling a poem or even worth reading (not that this is, but you know what i mean). so this is a cry for help, by beautiful people of bloggerland. i know life has been happening to everyone but lemme give you the quick and dirty:

first week of september, we returned home from EXCELLENT summer in oakland… boy! this jetlag is kicking my butt. i can’t seem to get outta bed… what? it’s not jetlag? IT’S A BABY? forget the wedding plans for May 22, 2009, let’s get hitched on the cruise... happybirthdaytomeOctober1st… birthday BluesCruise to Mexico… first day on cruise, miscarriage... first day back, doctor tells me there's still a baby there!  WOW!  on with the plan... THAT AFTERNOON, got married in a beautiful but brief ceremony at the county courthouse on October 13th with new sis-in-law jumping and clapping with joy… looked for job, looked for job, looked for job in Austin… NO JOB… baby’s growing… moved December 20th… HAPPY NEW YEAR… It’s A Boy! January 12th… we remember/will never forget Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, January 19th… O-BA-MA… O-BA-MA!!! January 20th … TODAY, we get cable!!! Now, if we can find a good, low-cost internet service, it’ll be all good.

for those who aren’t into the long read, you can bail here but i would be grateful for a writing prompt and any suggestions for artist communities in oakland.  (where my peoples at?)  for those interested in the details…

THE MOVE:
in december, i officially crammed my car with my most valuables (my children, my sweetiebubu, my kitchenaide mixer, my dvds and an array of other necessaries) and made the move back home to oakland. damn it’s good to be home. even further, i moved here post nuptials… yes, i’s married now! (i’ve recently become a “facebooker” so for those of you who’ve connected with me there, you already knew that… oh, and that i’m expecting. (yes, a baby!) to my only daughter’s chagrin, a baby boy to be exact. and for those of you who’ve been stopping here over the past few years, you’ll remember at least hearing of my beau, “sweetiebubu”… eh-hem… ronnie. q, my new-awesome-stepson, and my sweeties are really excited about their new brother. but the reality of my not having a job and, therefore, not being able to afford life in texas with my children, but away from my husband, was a sobering one.

hmmm… the upside of it all is that bliss lies underneath the work that is marriage and the tasks we are undergoing to create a home and space for baby smith in ronnie’s digs. the downside, as determined by the ultra conservative williamson county, texas, is that my sweeties must stay in texas unless/until their dad and i can agree to allow them to move with me. and you know how agreements with exes go. so, until texas, i mean hell freezes over… i mean, until we can agree, they live there for school and here, in oakland, on the off times. right now it’s working out. they are happy, healthy, and adjusting well. THAT is what matters.

THE MARRIAGE:
needless to say people are still mad at us. everyone thinks we had some big or secret ceremony and left them out. not the case, folks. we were amid a sea of tough decisions and it just came down to a spur of the moment agreement that we’d invite our loved ones to our one-year anniversary celebration. then we can do all the celebratin’ at one time. our baby. our new life together. the long-awaited consummation of our love. stay tuned.

THE BABY:
the sonogram technician said there was no doubt what he was cuz he kept flashing all of his business. i’ve been talking to him since about keeping his parts private, lil exhibitionist! he’s stirring and kicking lots these days. ahhh… motherhood. we are dancing in the joy of names right now.  life is amazing and to try to name it seems impossible.  we'll see what he inspires...

okay, i’m officially tired and not flowing well anymore. so i’ll end here. i will say though that, while i love seeing my family and being my husband’s groupie from gig to gig, i am in search of community here. i haven’t written a complete poem in months and the screenplay i was excited to be working on is stifled by research. so anyone reading this, consider this a call for your suggestions/advice/help/guidance/WHATEVER. Where are the good artist communities in Oakland/the Bay? And don’t forget, if you have a writing prompt for me, PLEASE help a sista out.

baby’s kicking and my head is hurting which means time to eat. til next time beautiful people…

**mwah**
shia

it's your party charlie brown... i mean shia shabazz...
it's the end of an era...

no more hot-ass summers. no more searching for familiar faces in seas of strangers. no more "red state." in less than a week, my husband will be here to cart me and my children to oakland to officially begin a new life.

but i have to admit that i am a bit disillusioned. after 12 years of living in austin, i had a going away party/baby shower and was TRULY stumped at the fact that several people who i thought were central to my life and community here didn't show, didn't call... just didn't. this is not a personal indictment of anyone. it's just a rant. and maybe through the pain of this feeling of loss/this rejection, the Universe is making it easier for me to leave. and it is. today i am more focused than ever on getting Home, to my husband, my father, brother and nephew, and other family and friends awaiting my permanent arrival in oakland. but i didn't REALLY believe that i wasn't loved here, did i?

for many reasons, it's a complicated move for me and i was hoping... no i was needing to share love and time and all of the ins and outs of my new life with the people i have shared many of my years with here. that was supposed to be the night of farewells and love and bon voyage...

okay, okay... when i take the ego and hurt feelings out of the equation, the reality is that i DID share the night with people i Love and people who Love me. i am trying to be super-human here and understand how busy this time of year is for people... blah, blah blah. i have tried to focus my energies on the people who DID come and show their love and regret for my departure; the people who made me realize i WILL be missed, that my presence made a difference, an impression and that my absence will be felt. i am GRATEFUL for the belly rubs and best wishes. i can't wait to share the new life and news from the Bay as my new journey unfolds.

to all of the other people whom i somehow lost along the way, i am grateful for the years, months, days, moments we shared and every lesson i've learned. i KNOW i am a better person for the past and learning more and more from the present. you are in my heart and prayers always.

for those who continue to walk with me, i look forward to all of the beauty that is to come, up close and from afar. to our journeys, our challenges and triumphs, our setbacks and our moments of fulfillment. you help me to realize that it's all enriching, it's all Love and it really is all good.

onward, upward and westward...
shia

what am i here for?

blatherings from the unemployment line...

what are we here for?  that's a question for God.  not you, dear reader.  i imagine you are pondering the same question in some way, be it a physical asking or a cellular one.  so i invite you inside it as well. what are we here for?

my most immediate response to that question is... to create art as a manifestation of love.  i know, i know.  but really.  that's what i believe i'm here for.  the thing is... as i try to keep my art more than a murmuring in the back of my mind, a more blaring question becomes apparent.  how am i supposed to create art if i can't pay my bills?

i've been unemployed for a month so far and it's been okay... kind of.  i've been looking for a new job since the day i became unemployed, if not well before (truth be told).  most of these days, i've felt relaxed, held up by the pats on the back and the patronizing "don't-worry-you'll-find-something's".  but i feel like i've submitted more resumes than aol.com sends out promotional CDs and still no REAL bites.  my joblessness is finally wearing on me.  it's the first time i've not had a job and it wasn't my choice.  and i know lay-offs happen all the time, but since college, in my fifteen years of working, i've never been... well... jobless.

and today, what feelings of respite i may have had transitioned into indomitable restlessness.  i found out that the one job i was waiting to hear from; the one i thought i was UNDOUBTEDLY suited for, decided they were" seeking a candidate whose experience more closely matched the job requirements."  (recruiter jargon for "thanks but no thanks.")  i try to convince myself, using all of the wisdom and cliches i can conjure, that something better, greater, more fitting is waiting.  (right?)  when one door closes, a window opens.  blah, blah, blah... 

i play them like mantras over and over again.  i affirm and re-affirm myself in the face of this rejection.  (i'm smart, talented and darn it, people like me!)  but it's tough.  because the reality is that i read every day about the looming recession.  i could barely afford gas when i had a paycheck.  and milk, on some days, is more than $4 a gallon.  with no income, these things can feel a bit more paralyzing than the passivity of "such is life."

i'm fighting the malaise of unemployment, trying to feel empowered in understanding the jog trot of the determined but unemployed.  on a daily basis, i create my workspace of a bistro table in the WiFi-friendly cafe up the street where I peruse craigslist.org and monster.com, online classifieds and the seemingly endless pages of company job listings.  i am in search of the job that's searching for me.  but today, with the news, i felt a shift.

i went into this search a month ago, resolute that i would meticulously make application, regarding only those positions that deserved my time and attention.  the chosen ones would be looking for the kind and caliber of professional i believe myself to be.  they would offer benefits, a open, good-natured working environment and a good work/life balance.  the kind of company you'd find at the tops of lists like best places to work, highest employee satisfaction and places you'd trade going home for.  (the offering would look so good that the salary didn't require a mention.)

but resume upon resume, rejection upon rejection... hourly pay is starting to sound pretty good.  and, well, i can put off going to the doctor until Obama gets in office, right?  who needs vacation time?  401k?  

what am i here for?  to create art as a manifestation of love.  so i am working on the unfinished screenplays.  listening to lots of impassioned art through live (and recorded) music.  i'm working out and dancing when i can.  and in this moment, i am creating art with every coffee shop moment.  with the call and response of job solicitations and answerings.  with the joy and pain of acceptance of situation and rejection of failure and circumstance.  making lemonade is an art.  mixing the sweet and sour to make something delicious.  i am reminding myself of it daily/hourly/minute-by-minute.

onward and upward...

"Green" vs. Grown
Two friends, allergies and an SUV

In the middle of a recent allergy attack, a friend called, excitement brimming in her voice. Thirty seconds in, after obligatory salutations, I learn that she’d finally traded in her 1991 now-lackluster luxury car for… an SUV.

“It’s got all of the bells and whistles,” she gloats. “It only gets fourteen miles to the gallon, but it’s fly!”

And then there was silence. NOT the response she was trying to elicit.

She revived me with a few echoing “Hello? Are you there?’s”. The diplomat in me did her best to resume in support of this friend’s very grown-up purchase, with a few insincere “good for you’s.” But, to my chagrin, she didn’t buy it.

“I know it’s selfish of me but it’s my time to have a little something for me.”

As a single mom and a product of American capitalism, I completely understand her plight. It’s a symptom of the larger dis-ease from which we all suffer, and are complicit; the myth that our well-being should be measured in "stuff"; the size of our cars, the number of flat-screens in our homes, the amount of money spent on our children’s birthday parties. We succumb to bask in the bling and blah-blah-blah of waste and materialism.

Be forewarned: The non-judgmental diplomat in me isn’t writing in this moment. It’s me. The flawed and frustrated newly realized green freak. And I don't think I've become an official "tree-hugger" yet (though I'm working on the badge). Don’t get me wrong. The desire to be as fabulous as the next girl still lives in me. But there came a point when I found more importance in the future health of our aging bodies, our children’s health and the state of this planet than riding in a vehicle that has more TVs in it than some homes in East Oakland.

But she, like many of us, can’t see how every car-buying, recycling, car-pooling decision she makes has the power to impact the world.

I want to shake her through the telephone lines. Beg her to take a moment and think about it. Think about the environmental changes that have happened in the last several years. In my case, when we moved to Austin, Texas, in April 1996, it was touted in Money Magazine as one of the top ten cities in the country “to be young”. While the economy in Austin is still slightly better than many other American “big cities,” these twelve years later, the music capital of the southwest is now more likely referenced as one of the country’s top places to be a heat-exhausted allergy sufferer. But the increased numbers of coughing-sneezing-head-achy allergically affected has increased from sea to shining sea just as the numbers of allergens has increased.

Global warming and allergy suffering a coincidence? Not according to the Natural Resources Defense Council October 2007 report. It says that “global warming and rising CO2 levels could worsen air quality and threaten human health due to increased levels of allergenic pollen and ground-level ozone.”

The Medical News Today agrees, adding that "Asthma and other allergic diseases have become more prevalent in the United States in recent years. They affect as many as 50 million people, or more than 20 percent of the population. The incidence of asthma alone has more than tripled over the past 25 years and currently affects more than 22 million Americans.”

I sneeze, pop an allergy pill and finally muster the courage to be the friend she will later be grateful she has. “Well, maybe you can pack a bunch of commuters up in the back. It may not be great on gas but one of those on the road is better than four.”

“You’re right. And that’s a good idea,” she resolves, as she runs off a short list of people she might be able to tolerate in rush hour traffic. Just before we get off the phone, we are interrupted by her daughter’s unfulfilled responsibilities.

“Casey*! Did you put all of those bottles and cans in the trash like I asked you to?” Whiney protest errupts in the background.

“Cecily*!” I scold, exasperated. Has she heard nothing I've said?

“What?" She pauses then realizes, "Oh. I guess I need to get a recycle bin?”

I sigh and realize we’ve got miles to go (preferably by bike, in a hybrid or electricity-powered car) before I sleep.


This account has been reconstructed with poetic license.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.