On BTRtoday‘s When We See Each Other episodes 13 & 14, I wrap-up the podcast’s first end of year ‘best ofs’. On episode 13, I looked back on my favorite moments from the interviews with the eight artists invited on the show. Listen HERE! And on episode 14, I play all of the amazing music by these artists. Listen HERE!
2020 was a really difficult year, with many changes and loss, but I’m so grateful to have this podcast. Talking with the various artists was eye opening and truly a gift. I can’t wait to continue on this path in twenty-one, bringing new artists on the pod, as we discuss and explore their creative processes, and how identity shapes their craft.
On episode 12 of BTRtoday‘s When We See Each Other, I talked with UK Black feminist punk rock trio Big Joanie. We chatted about everything, from their creative process, being signed to the epic label Kill Rock Stars, to what books they are reading. Also, two members of the band are writing their own books! Listen to the interview HERE.
On episode 9 of BTRtoday’s When We See Each Other, I chatted with the multi-genre duo The Black Creatures from Kansas City. We talked about all the things: their latest album, Wild Echoes, gender identity, race, current books they’re reading…! Check it out! This podcast is produced by Stereoactive Media.
So this is a response to all the fireworks happening in the New York area and else where.
Explosions In The Sky
The sky lights up with the sound of Boom resonating through the walls. Like thunder it exists as a reminder of disaster, a Boom Boom Boom so you know who is in charge. Like a frighten dog, like a frighten cat, we escape under the bed. We take to cover and bury our heads into our arms. Hide our bodies and our love ones from the terror of what the sky is suppose to mean now. Safe? It is a word we dream about and fight hard to attain. Safe? It is a word that cares nothing about who is outside facing the elements which was created. We are looked as dangerous while our bodies, an esse, are the most vulnerable.
The weather exists outside your own intentions. The rain comes with its clouds regardless of your want to lookup at the moon, to receive and see its splendid aura. Especially at a time where I have to lookout for threat rather than beauty. The beauty in the sounds of joyous glee. The beauty in seeing the miraculousness of things of living a life. When I watch for the next killing, the next mourning in a hashtag. Am I next? Am I next if I step outside and demand my space as a human being? Will I be next because my fight/flight/freeze mode is at a vigilance, so my actions are seen as a danger, while you have been so dangerous to me!
Ignited moon gaze ricocheting in waves of Us, Oh the glory
We’re at the same juncture where Black people are met with the same struggle, one which seems to never end. We’re still fighting for our lives to matter. We still can’t breathe as the knees of oppression bends into our necks, killing us. We’ve peacefully marched, we’ve walked with our anger boiling beneath our rich and beautiful skin, but yet this ugly history of us being beaten down, being hosed down still continues today. A reflection of us standing up against the fences, the faces of an established denial of my place in the world, where I dream as much as you do. I wish to sing my troubles. But it is the same tune. What else is there for us to say out loud, write down and shout, We shall over come… Should I tell the next generation it’s up to them now, to carry this anger, this despair, this anxiety of living outside, while I can’t even escape it myself? My life is ordinary like the songs of any bird-call voicing an incandescent sound, but because of the hatred of my existence I am martyred for my race, for my color: Black!
Black is the beauty of the night forever and ever Black is what brings light