May

Your art, Your Instrument, Your Piece, And Peace ❤️✌🏾️

What better way to #promote #peace than with a post expressing just that (and #streetart!!😄).

A few weeks ago, before the busiest workweek in life ever (😂), I randomly ran up on some dude and said, “Bro! Why are you all up in the way covering the photo of the art?!” Just kidding, but I actually did introduce myself to @mybuddiesmic (member of #PeacePunx), and had a great conversation about real #artists and the streets and how I respected what he was doing. Here I am showing my appreciation. Keep on rockin’ in the free world-no matter what your instrument may be 🙂 #blogger #writer #streetphotography #Tempe #millave #downtownTempe #phoenix #arizona #localartists #music #rocknroll #style #HippieLove #blackhippy #photography

May

Shed So Many Tears🙏🏾

“After this, NO ONE a threat me! Those committed to evil will die out eventually.”
Thank you God for the pen. That’s not a shot at atheists, or whatever your beliefs. I have mine, you have yours, and I pray for you and am commanded (it is my duty!!🙌🏾❤️) to #love you no matter what. No matter race, color, creed in gender.

But sometimes. Its hard for me to go outside. I was already wrongfully thrown in jail, harassed by the police-won’t get into that. I won’t get into how people discriminated against me at a Fortune 500 company (my lawyer handled it-thank you). I won’t go into how they tried to have me fired, belittled me in public, since nasty emails to my boss (the VP). I let it go.

But today, I was struck how I’ve been delivered from it all. Literally, these words came through for me: “‘The stone that the builders rejected has now become the cornerstone”-as Bob Marley quoted in loving reply to the rejection of the other side of his family of which was a different shade. He responded to the pain, and the hurt, with love-not anger.

But its hard sometimes. Its hard when you get treated like s**t every day. Its hard when people act like you aren’t there-even though they can feel your breath on their beautiful skin.

Is there hate in me? No. But I had to take the pain, channel it, and use it; I don’t want to end up a statistic, like those who let anger consume them. Let love consume.

I’m not preaching. These are just #Facts. This is how I live. The tears are real. This is my poetry. I’m telling the world: “Please, for the love of GOD (or whoever you believe in), consider your neighbor; you don’t have to like them (we can’t like everyone😂), but we can #RESPECT everyone. This is my prayer, my wish, my goal for a world torn my war, divisions, and racism.

The racism that I, unfortunately, have to deal with on a day to day basis; even if you are able to give yourself a little bit of a cushion from the hatred around you-you eventually encounter.

But my grandma was concerned. My mom was worried. They saw a change, and they saw something they knew would be bad unless it stopped.

So I decided to forgive the #racist #sheriff in #Arizona , and all the people who are racist by accident. What does that mean? Those that think anyone who has been victimized by racism, and speaks up about it, should be hushed, silenced, or even worse-discount what they say because it makes the person feel guilty. But I feel all my black and brown folks. I feel for all the immigrants who get hassled, taken advantage of, and work for meager pay.

It’s hard y’all. But I choose love and #forgiveness. Sorry if I am being too wordy, but I have to make it clear. It’s not me being overly sensitive. It’s “really hard”. It’s hard for the women who are disrespected constantly and sent “di*k pictures” by men on Tinder (“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Stop the harassment men. RESPECT #women and give your lives over to #genderequality). It’s the right thing to do, and women deserve to be respected the same as men.

This might be the realest s*it I ever wrote-like Pac said. But, I can’t close without one last thing. I love all people of all backgrounds, but #BlackLivesMatter (please don’t block me for saying this Instagram. Lol😂). It’s not just about police brutality (I must love and respect the police too, after all, they are men); still, its not right to try to discount this if you aren’t oppressed-or have never experienced what they’ve experienced. Like I’ve said before, how can I discount my lady’s complaints-while pregnant-dismiss them, and say they aren’t real?! C’MON SON!😂 When woman speaks, I must listen. When the poor speak, I must listen. I must love. Keep your mouth shut Jean! Let her speak. Be silent and wait for your turn. I feel like saying “F*ck the police!”, but I won’t. That’s not love. That’s petty. That is beneath you John. The police lives matter, as well as all lives, but (and a big “BUT” at that😂❤️), “black lives matter” is symbolic. It means we need to start treating people of darker complexions with the same respect and dignity as others; and guess what? We still aren’t there yet! We have made progress-but just look at the comments on Facebook whenever the news posts something about this, and you can literally smell the strife and division- in addition to seeing it when reading the hateful words with your own eyes, the racial slurs, the confederate flag- l have 5 years of executive level selling experience. I wouldn’t say this unless it was fact based; unless I had the experience to back it up.

So I say, “Love, #peace, and blessings-including Muslim, gay, straight, whatever. They hurt me today, but I’m back. I’m on my way to the gym, and I have $1000 leather pants on. Thank you Lord!😂

Last but not least, #thankyou #Drake for #ViewsFromThe6 ! I needed the song: “Hype”! It was my gospel music today. Sorry mom!😂 But these lines are true. I will never be broke or oppressed again. The humble will be raised up. If you are downtrodden, just hold on-and stay away from alcohol if you can (trees are better!😂). Seriously though, just keep on keepin’ on. Keep on rockin’ in the free world. #NeilYoung. But if they ever come for me or my family, the leash is off.

This also came true for my life. 10 days of jail and now this!!😄🙌🏾 My dreams are coming true. Why? LOVE ALWAYS WINS ❤️✌🏾️

“Sit at my right hand until I humble your enemies, making them a footstool under your feet.”

Thank you again Drake. I also know that showing emotion doesn’t make you a pu**sy. End misogny also! Love love love!❤️✌🏾️
The song (for reference) 👉🏾http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Lg_FD_erZzw

May

In life when I had to fight, I leaned on Pac. Nights I was alone on the highway, no money, looking for my next sale-so I could get some commission and pay my rent. Often during those times, I felt fear, and sometimes I felt like I would crack under the pressure; that was until I put on this!😄👉🏾“Tradin’ War Stories” by Tupac Amaru Shakur}. Gohan was just a smile child, but something was awakened in him when those who cared about him were under threat. The spirit of the warrior: “We tradin war stories! Outlaws on the rise, jealous n*****s I despise-LOOK IN MY EYES🙌🏾” #tupac #tupacshakur #2pac #tupacquotes #poetry #writer #blogger #music #hiphop #jeanpaulgaultier #french #designers #fashion #fashionblogger #inspiration #styleblogger #LACMA #art #photography #camoflauge #military #style #reigningmen

Apr

Seven Rings Inspiration

Seven Rings Inspiration

I am going to work my ass off. “I can’t stop from goin’ in”; it’s as if I was on steroids or something!! Not my cup of tea, but I do drink-see that thang in the bottom right hand corner? Yeah, that’s it! “Sippin’ out my cup? Hell nooooo don’t you taste that. 💯 percent chance I done doped up and laced that.”😂 Actually though, its just Kool-Aid flavor enhancer. It makes for a killer rehydrating beverage after a 5 am workout. Like today. Gotta appreciate today. Every moment. Won’t stop until my “left and right hand Robert Hory”. One ❤️ #Future #SevenRings #EVOL #album #music #hiphop #rap #art #poetry #writing #blogger #fashion #fashionblogger #style #styleblogger #personalstyle #eyeglasses by #WarbyParker #shirt #tshirt #silk #and #cotton by #johnelliotco also #denim #jeans #tattoos #tattoo #inked #ink #tats #dermal #piercings #nosering #piercing #jewelry #accessories #docmartens #oxford #bluesuede #redbottoms

Apr

Listening to “They”; A Cry For The Death Of Ageism

All black. All leather. And the boots? Wow. This photo is dope 🙂 hahaha

Being in your fifties, sixties, thirties, forties, or whatever should never make you feel like your style isn’t yours, and you aren’t allowed-or shouldn’t because people will judge-wear what you want. Some rules are meant to be broken. Joan Jett knows. 🙂

Someone out there didn’t feel good about themselves today. Peer pressure, unsaid expectations from society; all these things contributed to them cowering down. Holding back. Caving in to the pressure to not be themselves. Afraid of what people would say if they got that tattoo. Feeling like: “I can’t wear these clothes, even though I would sure like to. I mean, sheesh! I’m 38 for Chrissakes!”

Sometimes, when nudged by a nostalgic feeling of their youth or the good old days while talking to a friend, that person says something like: “Man. What I wouldn’t give to be in my twenties again. Life just sucks after college!!”; or rather, they say something along those lines; something akin to or impliying that somehow aging is bad. Like, you lose privileges of freedom to express themselves. Time for you to have your life crisis. Time to dwell on the past, instead of looking forward to the blessings of the future. They look in the mirror and see things that they don’t like. Some days it hurts more than other days. These emotions surface in odd ways sometimes.

I should know. I’ve given into “they” in the past. I accepted some things as just part of growing up; that was until I realized that I didn’t have to accept rules I didn’t agree with. We can reject anything that tries to tear us down, limit us, or keep us from expressing ourselves truthfully and authentically.

So I’m with you Joan. At 57 (in the attached picture), you can see her style is just as amazing as ever. She doesn’t need to dress “her age”-whatever that is. And that is the very thing I’d like to eviscerate: the notion that aging, growing older-and being blessed enough to be alive on the earth-isn’t something to enjoy and appreciate as possible.

In my fifties or sixties, I’d do just what she is doing. Keep wearing that leather jacket. Death to ageism. 🙂

Mar

The Life Of Paolo

I had no idea that “Paolo” is the same name as “Paul” in English. Interesting fact, and something I attained knowledge of while being glued to Facebook and Instagram for the past week. It feels to me that this is an unprecedented time for art, being that, it is much easier to access it with the Internet; this brings about a never beforehad opportunity to have unlimited access to amazing art from around the world. I’ve made a personal decision in my time outside of work (and also the gym😄) to try and only read and watch something unless it has some sort of artistic value. Instagram has been incredible for me in consolidating so many amazing photographs, paintings, sculptures, designs, and the list goes on and on…but I don’t know. Is it just me, or is this a great time for people who love art? I really think that it is, and I hope you are enjoying it in some way. It wasn’t too long ago that my people, and many others, didn’t have any way at all to access any of this stuff. For that, I am very thankful.

And who do I thank? Well, it just happens to be Easter Sunday, and I must thank he who for this holiday is celebrated. Blessings to all; no matter what your religious background. In my heart (and I think in yours too), I think you pray for this violence against religions to stop the same as I do. Maybe an end to the terrorist attacks shocking us in places where our very peace is underattack. Rest in peace to those lost in Brussels and in all the other places in the world we don’t hear about.

Still, I can see. The sun is before me. I could feel in my soul a new life. Underneath all these images beats a heart of love, and the post I’m sharing below-with that same heart beating, pounding even, underneath the surface-I share with you. When you imagine the Spring breeze, enjoying the kiss of the sunrays, holding your loved ones, savoring a delicious meal, remembering someone’s birth into this world, listening to your favorite song and feeling happy that you are lost in a state of euphoria; its at these moments, where the feelings you experience make it undeniable, that the world is beautiful. We know this, but still a lot of it is beyond our total understanding. What I post below, has love that is beyond all understanding, and this is the only way I can express the supreme highest level of beauty and art; something, I feel, which is the same as love. Here is what I wrote (a poem-I think😊) inspired by this quote from an ancient book:

“Although man can forget God or reject him, He never ceases to call every man to seek him, so as to find life and happiness.” 🙏🏾

My poem:

Always there when you call. Always there when you need help. Always there when you messed up. Always there when you hated yourself. Always there when you lost. Always there when you were depressed. Always there when you cried. Always there when you lost someone you loved. Always there when you needed protection. Always there. He has all ways and IS always.

He wants you to live the best life: “The Life Of Paolo”.

Mar

Dedicated to Johnny J

This picture right here…..this makes me feel a lot of things. I could go so many ways, but since I can only choose one, and I’m not DJ Quik, I’m going to make a choice, and I’ll just have to hope and pray that it is the right one. It seems like often we have to make these kinds of decisions in life.

To start out, I’ll ask a question. Have any of you had a dear friend? Someone that you loved more than life itself and your mother and all your dreams rolled into one? If that feeling has ever gripped you before, it still has its hold on you-because it is for life, and its the kind of embrace that writes love’s signature across your forehead anytime you are touched by it. Its the love I have for a brother. Its the love I have for my sisters. My brother. Brothers. Plural actually. 🙂 The kind I pray to Christ that I will be able to extend to those around me, so that I won’t dissapoint those who came before me, because as you already know, hearts are underattack nowadays, and more often than not, surrounded by cold weather. Nothing against cold weather-I’m actually a fan of it, but not when it doesn’t involve snowboarding, and neither does it involve anything but aggravatingly being the kind of weather that slowly freezes you as you are in the airport; and everyone is just a stranger and there is no love around and you are alone. The same distinct cold that loneliness brings. Actually, it feels like they are nearly one in the same.

Back to the picture. I love this picture. It makes me also think of a close friend. Once we were so close, it seemed like nothing could come between us. We were like family, but then, things started to happen. Bad things. And that friend started doing things, which would in turn, end up being things that would ruin my thing. And I had to let go because you can’t let someone drive you to do the wrong thing. I’ve already let Spike Lee down enough. I’d much rather do right. The thing that is. 🙂

But it also makes me feel incredibly happy. Happy that we do get those moments. The one’s when you are with those you love, and in that moment, you realize you don’t need anything else. The sun is beaming sending its warm breath your way, and you can bask under it like a light waterfall. The breeze playfully touches your face and engages in its own game of hide & seek, and laughter surrounds you everytime it tags you “it” and runs off again.

Man! All that from a picture huh? Yes. Because there are many layers to what sometimes looks on the surface as if it was something to just be brushed aside, looked down upon, and called ghetto. Those same layers, left misunderstood, have resulted in shots being fired into the heart of an innocent, and which is also an attack on innocence, and a stab in the back of justice, and a life that is treated like its garbage-like it doesnt matter.

The only thing left to do is relax, and to just let the music play. Once you feel that vibe, and that funk starts up, you won’t stop until you get enough of it. Thank God it keeps on going and we have soul and we have music. Listen to it here:

Love.

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Feb

“Look how far we are….”

Nobody gets excited about samples. Maybe food-if it’s in the meat area of Whole Foods-but otherwise, the focus is always towards the main thing. What’s coming next? What’s in store for me in the future after this measly sample. I want it all! Don’t Americans just want it all?

But what if we appreciated the samples? What if we treated them like that was all we were going to get? Maybe, we’d live in the moment a little more. The pace on the treadmill of modern day life would slow down to a brisk walk-instead of the strenous jog and occasional sprint this economy has sped us up to the past 8 years.

Still, look at the price of gas. Look at the clean air and beautiful weather. Take one deep breath, and realize you are doing that without the aid of a machine. I thank God for that. The movie “Scarface” put it best with the quote: “Every dog has his day.”

I think we are finally getting our day and will have it soon. Why you may ask?

For once in my life, I’m really just appreciating the sample-instead of the main course, which is the whole song. There’s something different about this time though and this sample. Its not just something that can be looked over in a song. It makes you feel something. You can hear the heart in the voice. That’s what soul is to me. I attached the sample I’m appreciating in the link for this post. It is a song that, I feel, expresses the time we are in. I think that’s the only way you can feel what I’m saying; but all you really have to do is really open your eyes. Not with the cover the media has clouded everyone’s with. Instead, close your eyes and think back to that time when the economy was on the verge of collapse. Then open them. You’re here. We’re here. We’re alright. Even a blind man could see it. It wasn’t too long ago that you could see a gaping hole open up in the ground. It gets bigger and spreads its rapacious mouth until all you can see are the flames and America falling down into it; or in other words, total financial collapse. Think about that for a moment, and the one we’re all in now, and how could we not be grateful for not sliding down into the pit?

People of color are doing better than ever-contrary to what some recent controversies have purported. Things are better and will continue to get better. Owning subscription media services, building businesses, careers, families…it just had me thinking. I was listening to “Facts” by Kanye West, and the song he sampled just grabbed me. I think it still has me wrapped up. It just sums everything up! It can be heard. It can be heard when you listen to a song from 1989 and compare it to one from 2016.

“Keep your head up.”

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Feb

Offensive or art?

“Definition Of A Thug Nigga” http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=AJ60jOFpM60 #2pac #tupacshakur #Rap #music #hiphop
I’ll start out by making it exceptionally clear that I-just little old me-is NOT the authority on the answer to this question. After all, its YOU.

That’s right. Indulge me for just a moment. Is it possible that two people can look at the same painting and walk away taking something away that is completely different? Different experience. Different meaning. In other words, viewing the same masterpiece, and somehow materializing a totally different version of the image beamed to their eyes from the combustible interaction of their synapses and neurons zigzagging the highway of their enigmatic minds?

Since we don’t even completely understand how the human mind functions, although we know a lot, we can’t rule out the possibility that the answer is “yes”. In fact, amongst our everyday communication, this is no uncommon occurence. It reappears out of nowhere every time we take one’s meaning to mean something else entirely. Being misunderstood.

Misunderstanding one another seems to, unfortunately, be in fashion today. Fox News takes what this person says, twists it up,and flings it out at the rabid animals tearing each other apart for the first bite. MSNBC takes another one and launches it past the bleachers. One person speaks. Says something about the Oscars. Does a dance in the endzone. Performs a dance in black leather at the Super Bowl. World explodes. Twitter’s tweeters tweet sharply pinned barbs and aim for the throat. Useless and unneccsary blood is spilt. Still no understanding.

Take the word “nigga” for example. A favorite artist, poet, and musician of mine-Tupac Shakur-comes to mind as someone who was unashamed in his use of the word and convinction in expressing his art. One of his songs particularly struck me, with respect to the ability of words, often in the form of art, to strike two dispartate conclusions as to their meaning. This is why I put this song at the beginning of this post.

So, a little bit of history on this song. It was first featured on the “Poetic Justice” soundtrack back in 1993. It was produced by Warren G and Pac. Later on, it was released on “R U Still Down”- Pac’s first posthumous release-courtesy of his mother, Afeni Shakur. More on this later. The album would go on to sell over 4 million copies (4X platinum). This release would follow with 4 more releases.

If you heard the song, it starts out with a voice sample of a young lady saying defiantly, “No one is closing me out of my business.” The song’s composer and lyrcist goes on to open the song, “I play the cards I was given. Thank God I’m still living.” Then he says he has to arm himself with a 9 millimeter pistol in his own neighborhood, in case some of the young criminals in the neighborhood attempt to accost him. The song continues with the tale of someone in a rough neighborhood, trying to survive, and overcoming the obstacles to this survival. Something that we all know is a human right. The right to pursue life, happiness, and sustain oneself. What really struck me was the statement, “I put that on my moms! Word to the motherfuc***g trigger. Before I go broke, I’ll be a drug dealer. My definition of a thug nigga.”

Often people hear that word, and they cringe. They might argue over whether people have a right to say it. Some say its profane. Or it should be banned. Or it is tacky. Lowclass. Ghetto. Offensive.

What the artist meant with this term-definition of a thug nigga-was misunderstood by a lot of people. These people all had one thing in common. They had never actually been in the situation described in the song. But to the people who knew, they could feel in their hearts what he meant. It is something every man and woman has a built-in drive and desire for; and that is to do whatever it takes to survive with the best resources available to him. This same imagery, of the “hand I was dealt” that he refers to, is a universal image. The definition universal along with it. Someone who is impoverished, who climbs out from under that poverty, dodging the snapping claws of the hostile crabs they are surrounded by…THAT is a person who personifies the strength of the human spirit. Bravery. Courage. That person deserves respect. That person came from nothing to something. That person is the definition.
The story ends with this. The artist of this song would be tragically murdered-gunned down on the Las Vegas strip. Due to his forethought and prudence, his mother would be taken care of, financially speaking, for LIFE. Don’t we all want to do that for our loved ones? It’s touching that he was able to accomplish this-coming from poverty-and left his mother, who was the dearest person in the world to him, with an unforgettable reminder of his love for her. That’s what he meant. That is the meaning of the defi tion of a thug nigga.

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Aug

My Weekend With The Cure

Some of these titles for my posts really suck. Just was on my mind and needed to point that out.

Still, the fact of the matter is, I have been listening to The Cure ALL weekend. Literally. 🙂

I listened to both the “Boys Don’t Cry” and “Faith” albums three times straight through yesterday. I existed in the aura of a music concert all by myself sitting at the bar in a vegetarian restaurant, oblivious to what was going on around me; bobbing my head up and down, being powerless to resist what accosted my ears, and in a musically induced dazed nod-similar to the one I’m in now-writing this on my bed.

Sometimes I think that maybe it’s possible to hear music before you are born, or hear it around you as a child before you gained consciousness, and it’s familiar to you somehow later in life. Kind of like seeing a cousin you haven’t seen in a long time, or family members bearing your resemblance and reflecting it back, leaving no doubt to the relation standing before you.

Sounds crazy, but there was an uncanny thing that happened with my dad a few months back. We were relaxing in the house playing music in the stereo with our phones, and we pretty much connected on every song. You know when you hear something, and you love it just as much as the person you are with? Well, that kept happening over and over on a random playlist of music that I had put together, with no input of his own, and coincidentally, happened to be song after song of some of his favorites; yet, what was even more unreal, was that all of this music I had found, and was brand new to me, were songs that his brother (who is no longer with us) listened to with him decades ago.

I sometimes imagine what it would have been like to have been in the car with them. I picture a couple of young, carefree country boys riding down some back roads, fast as hell (ha!), in a pickup truck with nothing but the stars above and the black of night surrounding it all. Maybe I was there? The music makes me feel like I was, and just like the music is still with us, I think the people we’ve lost still are too. I can’t see them, but I feel them sometimes like the music I can’t see, flowing with me without restriction of time or space.

This brings me back to The Cure. I don’t know why some of these songs are so familiar. I’ve never listened to these albums before. I used to watch MTV as a kid, as most did at the time, but I was waiting for “Yo! MTV Raps!” or New Edition or some Michael Jackson song. Back when MTV played videos, you had to wait through stuff you didn’t want to hear, just so you could get to YOUR song. Hahaha.

So somehow, waiting for my song of the moment, which would soon change on another capricious whim, I had to have heard some Cure songs after Cher, and Lionel Richie, and Rod Stewart.

As frustrating as it was then, I appreciate MTV for this, if in fact this was the reason. Or it could be that there was some sort of spiritual osmosis of what was in the music, and it passed on to me at just this moment? Or it could be that I just really like them? That’s too simple though. I like the more magical sounding reasons. Either way, it’s true that the band was huge, inspired the whole goth genre-though they hate to be classified as anything. The beautiful thing about a band like this, or any trailblazing artists, is that elements of their music are still burning brightly, and you can see the flame in the music of today. Guitars, synthesizers, funk, dark melodies, artsy experimentalism, and ethereal sonic backdrops. Its a little complex to try and put into words, but it’s kinda like….floating. Yeah, like that. 🙂

You may be listening to them now and not even know it. 🙂

“Plastic Passion” http://bit.ly/XtEMh0