Trust

A few weeks ago, I decided I needed a new carpet because my old one was getting a little raggedy. I thought about various strategies to get one including fundraising. In fact, that's how I came across the idea of starting a ko-fi page. Nobody wants to give something for nothing huh?
Anyway today, I got a new carpet. Well, not new, new. Just new to me - and all I paid for it was transportation costs.
I put something out there into the universe, believed that I had already received it, and then let it go. Yesterday my sister writes in the group chat, "Anyone who wants a carpet, come collect it."
And I have a carpet.
My next project is, I need a new sofa.
I've followed a few furniture accounts on Instagram, spend some time every day looking at the sofa I want (yeah, it looks like the picture below) and believing that I have already received it. I also updated my ko-fi with my new goal.
I have faith that sooner or later, I shall have my sofa.

Remember that I told you about how things unfold the way they should if you're paying attention? Today was that kind of day. I decided to use a bus instead of a minivan to go to town and they turned into Mbagathi road, the direction I was going, instead of going down Nairobi West like they usually do. It's rare for transport to turn into Mbagathi road after 11am in the morning and it was going on 3pm. So that really made me feel like I should update my bio to Maker of Good Decisions.
Then after I got the carpet, my sister called me a taxify (which is like Uber but allegedly cheaper) but it broke down somewhere along the way so the driver put me in a matatu (PSV) with my carpet and I just like propped it in front of me. My seatmates were very accommodating of me (which is kind of par for the course in my neighborhood but still).
The matatu dropped us off at a petrol station rather than the bus stage and so I dragged my carpet over to the adjoining Pizza Inn and had myself some lunch while I pondered my next move. Just as I was done and searching, a motorcycle (known as a boda-boda) drove in and was filling up his tank. I asked him if he was working and he said yeah. I was thinking that I would ask him to take me to the bus stage but he asked where I live and told me the rate for taking me all the way. Now I've been spilled by a motorbike twice this year but for some reason, I was like, "he looks competent enough."
So I let him take me all the way and we rode up and down these hills with the sun going down and got to witness the most magnificent sunset, with the wind whipping past at speed and nothing between me and the view. Scary and beautiful to say the least.
So I got home, minimal expenditure (except for lunch - but it was clearly part of the process) and a new carpet!

The main point of taking you through my tedious ass story about a carpet is to show you how the universe works to guide you if you let it. We work so hard sometimes, overthinking everything and not really getting anywhere. Worrying ourselves into high blood pressure or ulcers, maybe worse. Yet if we just let go and trust the process, we might find that we get where we need to be by the most scenic, interesting route that can be devised for us. At the end of the day, we would have to declare that, "That was quite a ride!"
It's difficult I know, to let go and let God. It mostly feels like stupidity to trust that all will be well when there's no evidence that this is the case. Hell, my own son has made fun of me for having this attitude. My sisters tell me I live on the edge.
I really don't.
I have come to a place where I have seen over and again that the universe comes through. I have come to a place of trust. I trust myself, I trust that my belief is not misplaced, I trust the process. It seems easy but it's the most difficult thing I've ever learned.

My son is eighteen this year and I can say with utmost truthfulness that he is alive, healthy and well because the universe has watched out for him. So many times I was without recourse; I had no way out. But a way was found. And my work is almost done. So when people ask me, "How can you just trust with no evidence that the universe will come through?"

I point to my living breathing child.

There's the evidence.

This post has been uncommonly heavy I know but I wanted you to know that even when everyone abandons you, you are not alone. So reach out, help is just waiting to take your hand and lead you home. 

Trust and believe my brothers and sisters.

This sermon has been brought to you by Pastor Annamaria. The collection box is to your right. 

Handling the Critics

On a serious note, I am about to lead you down a dark path. If you don't want down this rabbit hole, now is the time to turn back.

When you create anything, be it a painting, a poem, a ballad, a story, or a child, you will expect people to have opinions about it. The more unsure of themselves they are, the more opinions they will have about what you should be doing with your creation and by extension your life.
Beyonce makes art about her marriage and everyone feels they have the right to comment on whether she stays married to Jay-Z or not.
There is a saying about giving someone an inch and they take a mile.
When you give the world a part of yourself, the result is apparently that they think they own you. That their opinion of you is valid.
It's not.
That's exactly why Rihanna will never claim Hassan in public. She ain't giving you nothin' to speculate about. It must be frustrating for all those so-called fans who spent their lives stalking the lives and Instagrams of any man she was associated with looking for transgressions.
The creator creates. They disseminate that creation into the universe. Recipients of that art consume it. They react to it however they do. That reaction belongs to them. It is none of the creator's business. The converse is also true. As a fan, you have no say over an artist's life or their work. You can accept the art, reject it, vilify it, worship it; but that doesn't mean you get to tell the artist what to do next.

Well...that wasn't as dark as I thought it would be.
"Where is all this coming from Annemarie?" You ask.
Well, since you asked...
I received a comment on one of my old stories on AO3. It was a question of geography. I - apparently - placed Mt. Rushmore in the Grand Canyon and this reader was very upset about it. Now when I say this is an old story...I mean years. So I wasn't really sure what the hell they were talking about. I do not recall in all my years of living, ever typing the words Mt. Rushmore.
"So Annemarie, why didn't you just read over the chapter and find out what they were talking about?"
"Well, because I'm busy and is it that serious?"
I always ask myself when I get a comment about some factoid in my story that someone says is wrong. My question is, "Does this factoid in any way change the direction or message of the story?"
(I have gotten a comment about factoids one other time about In the Shadow of the Styx. They were annoyed at the use of the word Styx in the title and also the appearance of Hitler in the story...never mind).
If the answer is no, then why am I scrambling around bending over backward for a person I've never met so that their hang-ups can be satisfied? People always want to tell you what to do. I stopped listening long ago.
Anyway, so I just thanked the person for their comment and geography lesson and kept it moving.
Then I get another comment on a different chapter from the same person. Apparently now there is a problem with the number of states. Again, I have no idea what they're talking about. I love this story. I know how it goes generally. The fact that I can't remember these details means they are less than irrelevant to the story. Anyway, her new problem with me was that not knowing these factoids indicated to her that I wasn't an American and that was jarring to her otherwise enjoyable reading experience...
Well, one comment...okay. Two is asking for trouble.

I told her that yes, I was not an American, she was right about that. Would she please go away and leave my fic alone?
A diplomatic answer? No.
But I kept it all the way real like you're advised not to do with readers. Don't respond or be polite. I think I was rudely polite. I said please. And thanks.
I think I've said it before; I don't understand the concept of letting people badmouth your work ad infinitum. I get that some people won't like it, and that's just great. We're not avocado after all - not everybody's gonna like you. But idiocy such as this above, man...you can swallow the irritation and let it give you ulcers or you can clap back and defend yourself.
When it comes to my creations; my son, and my books, you better be sure I will say something. I don't care who's right and who's wrong; you come for mine, be prepared to defend your position as vigorously as I will defend mine. That's why I look like a twenty-year-old with artfully greying hair. I don't let bitterness eat me up from inside. I let it out.
I'm not telling you to do what I do. I'm saying do you, regardless of what 'the experts' say.

Igniting the Creative Spark

Hello Russia, how are you doing?
I was just checking out my google analytics and y'all are number one reading my blog...this week. Also Kenya fell out of the top five countries for the first time in a while.
What?
Y'all can't relate to me anymore?
You don't care about my google analytics. Let's get on with some pontificating, edutaining, exposition from your favorite neighborhood opinionated writer/author/blogger.
That's me in case you were wondering.
And yes, I am your favorite.
*does not insert Kanye gif here because he's cancelled*

In my last post, I shared with you my admiration and gratitude for Dirty Computer and this week I want to tell you how much my life has changed because of one album.
So a day or two after I watched the video, I went to replenish my refrigerator following my son's departure for school. I was kinda hungry when I went to the supermarket and what that usually means for me is that I will buy myself some chips and chicken for lunch at the local chips shop. My body doesn't really like fast food tbh. I tend to er...release the hostages really fast following such a meal and they tend to be rather loose. Meaning my body ain't trying to digest any of it. But I still go ahead and do it because chips.
However, New and Improved, Body Appreciating Me was like, "Noup. Not today Satan. I'm gonna go home and eat something nice and nutritious."
I'm not saying chips and chicken isn't a nutritious meal. I read something the other day saying potatoes have a very high nutritional value. (I was so happy y'all...) but how it's cooked matters. If you want to enjoy a nice chicken and chips meal, make it yourself.
But I digress.
My point is, I wasn't tempted by fast food because being in love with my body means I want what's best for it. And don't misunderstand. This isn't about body image/positivity or 'staying fit and healthy' like the celebrities like to pretend they're doing when they just wanna be thin. Genevieve Padalecki, I'm looking at you. It's about wanting your body to be happy because you love it. Just like you want your partner or your child or your friend or your sister to be happy because you love them.
It turns out the best motivation to "stay fit and healthy" is to be in love...with yourself.

What the fuck, does that have to do with igniting creativity you ask?
Everything.
What inspires you?
What motivates you?
What even puts you in the head space to be inspired and motivated.
I'll tell you what doesn't.
Feeling miserable.
Feeling depressed.
Feeling tired.
Feeling ill.
I've been feeling all these things at one time or another this whole year. My body has been letting me down, my mind has been clouded. Ask my fanfic fans if you don't believe me. They are so patiently waiting for me to update while all I can do is slog through my paid work and hope it will do.
Hope it will do.
I'm not a 'I hope it will do' type of person. I like my creations to be epic whether or not they have my name on them. I have standards people. So I haven't been updating my fan fiction because they would not live up to my standards.
Until this week though.
Yeah, if you're interested in fanfic, click on the link and head over to AO3; got some new stuff on there.
The creative spark is ignited by being in proximity to creations that make me feel good about myself; that make me take another look at me and go like, "Hey. How you doin?"
I been looking at myself like Joey Tribiani looked at women. Last Sunday I wrote 7500 epic words like a joke. No strain, no effort, just finger flying over the keys. The client wants to kiss my ass, that story is so good.
So yeah my fingers are sparking, my brain cells are awake and alive. Yeah I'm still sick. Yeah my arm still hurts like a motherfucker sometimes. But it doesn't matter. It's all just details now. Let's get creating!

Another interesting side effect of being set free to be the best me I can be is that I don't have time for nonsense. You notice I haven't said anything about Kanye when normally I'd be all over that shit? It's because I don't care. Kanye's issues are personal and he wants to make them global and it's up to us not to let him. I told y'all his behavior is the result of hurt feelings and he confirmed it in the Charlemagne interview. I think it's an only child syndrome. They really do think they're the center of the universe. But the rest of us don't have to make it personal. We can just ignore him and focus on creative rather than destructive energy.
And there is so much creative energy out there right now. It's weird that living under oppression seems to be the fuel for creation of epic art in all it's forms. I'm just trying to do my best to add to all the good art in existence.
I see people in my writer's groups say things like they read someone else's work and it was so good it demoralized them.
Bitch what?
Those who came before are a source of inspiration, a challenge for you to put your best foot forward and match or exceed what has come before you. If it's a reason for you to turn away from your own art, then maybe you're in it for the wrong reasons. I can't wait for everyone to discover the epicness that is my stories but that's not why I write.
I write because I enjoy it. It gives me joy and satisfaction to take a story from mere concept to published novel. To see other people enjoy it, be inspired by it, take something from it that makes their lives better...
That's the icing on the cake.

Dirty Computer; An Epiphany

Wow.
I am deceased.
My eyes have been opened.
I have been reborn.
I have seeen the light! Can the house say Amen?

You might have deduced that I have seen Dirty Computer by Janelle Monae. Remember when I said that Pynk made me jealous about the queers having an ode to their vagina, while straight folk like me are still struggling to be seen with 'Flawless' and 'Needed Me'? Well, clearly I had no idea.

Last night I got on YouTube and watched the 'emotion picture', Dirty Computer by Janelle Monae. It's free so go on and watch. One song in and I was already feeling like my life was wasted. By the time I got to the end, I was in crisis. I had to sit down and apologize to myself for the criminal neglect, all the dust I've been paying myself since forever. On Friday I wrote about the patriarchy becoming personal, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. From burning the bra to #Freethenipple, to #metoo it's all a struggle to get men to treat us as valid humans. It's like we need them to; in order to be able to validate our own beings...Today, I completely dismiss the patriarchy from my consciousness. They have taken up enough real estate in my life for too long. My son is grown, if he wants to believe the hype, that's his decision and his life.
 Not my monkey, not my circus. Let his future girlfriends deal with his shit.

As for me, I have my own journey to begin; so so late but it's never too late.
I wrote a post on Tumblr a few weeks ago about my infancy as a sexual being. 20+ years of sexual activity and I don't even really know what I like, what I hate, what works, what doesn't. I love myself as a person, as an intellectual, as a mother but do I even know myself as a woman? When I look in the mirror and I think, "Ugh, this v-neck is too low." while also thinking, "Damn I like the way it looks though." Then proceed to cover up my upper body with a sweater, or coat..who am I covering up for? Is it me? Do I dress with me in mind or with the male gaze and judgemental female gaze judging me for attracting the male gaze? Why the fuck can't I just dress for me? I'm not saying this right. I don't know how to say this right.

For the first time, watching Dirty Computer, I felt SEEN. Like just me, not as a factor of someone else's thoughts, feelings or expectations. I felt like my life was wasted because of the simplicity of Jane's relationships in those videos. The complete lack of artifice, the honesty, the looking at the other person and really seeing who they are. And I felt despair because as a straight person I felt like that possibility of that kind of relationship is closed to me.
But then the truth is that I also fell in love...With myself.
And I realized that I gotta look at myself like that. Really see me. Stop blocking the me that is a sexual being out because of things that happened long ago. Acknowledge the fact that me is enough. Everyone was enough in the emotion picture. Enough in themselves and so enough for each other. I want someone to wanna kiss my nose in the morning not just my vagina.
I even tried to make the case to myself about maybe being bisexual. But since I don't know what to do with my own equipment, I doubt adding another one to the mix will make things any clearer.

My queen, Rihanna, is releasing lingerie soon, all sizes included of course - you know she is the QUEEN of inclusion - and the promo is just coming out. And one of the models in the promo wore a bridal veil with white lingerie while being interviewed by someone off camera. She said she didn't see marriage for herself because as far as she can tell, guys just want to bust a nut and then they're done. And I was in so much agreement I might have tried to burst through the phone screen to scream "YAAASSS sis. Exactly."
That's why I am in despair of ever experiencing any of the joy and connection as depicted in Dirty Computer unless I can somehow convince myself I'm gay or at least bi. But even without the relationship part of it, I love the self-acceptance that the emotion picture gave me. Acceptance of all my glorious womanhood. I just ended my period (I think. You never know with these things. You think it's over and then ooop, there you are again) and the other day while I was in the loo contemplating the various ways in which menstruation is set up to torture me, I thought about writing a blog post about it. But then I thought, no, nobody writes about menstruation, it's a private, secret, disgusting part of womanhood that no one wants to know about.
Who is no one?
Is it women? Because all cis women be in this same boat with me.
But we don't discuss periods, or birth control or abortions or even orgasms except in secret away from the male gaze because God forbid they have to deal with all these tiresome women's issues right?
These issues are not important.
They're not valid.
But then Janelle Monae came and did a dance as a vagina and finally someone dared to show that oh, this is a great thing. This is womanhood. This is the core of humanity. Without this nobody exists.

And while I did indeed wake up like this, and he did indeed need me, I'm done looking for that validation. I'm breaking out of the patriarchy jail and embracing every aspect of my inner Savage. If you thought I was crazy before, you ain't seen nothin' yet.
Freedom!

Artistes As Inspiration

Kanye West wants to be water.
I went to bed just ruminating on that. Does that mean he wants to be adaptable according to his surroundings? Solid, liquid or gas? Or maybe he wants to be fluid and fit in any space. Is that the same thing? Anyway, I haven't figured it out.
Also, he said his wife is the Marie Antoinette of our time.
Does anyone know anything flattering about Marie Antoinette?
Because I've been trying to reconcile Kanye's dedication to his wife with him comparing her to a woman who could not relate to her subjects and was ultimately beheaded by them. But then it's Kanye. Maybe he means to say Kim can't relate to her subjects.
Except...
That's not really accurate, is it?
So I'm stumped.
But in a good way. I love figuring things out and this is a puzzle.

Hey guys.
How are you doing?
I know my posts have slowed down a lot. Life comes at you fast sometimes so I've kind of been paddling frantically trying to keep my head above water. It drains your energy; leaves nothing for the writing. I'm eaten up with guilt at how much I'm neglecting my WIPs. Especially the fanfics because I have people actively waiting for updates.
I'm so sorry guys. But I gotta take care of me first.
If you have some patience though, I will get to them.
Did you see Beychella? I just watched it and that's why I got up off my ass to write this. If that almost forty-year-old woman can dance and sing for one hour without being this guy...

Well, I have no excuse for not writing a damn blog post now do I?
Oh, a fun thing happened to me, twice in the last week. I fell off a boda-boda. That's a motorbike used as a transport from place to place for those who don't speak the language. I think it was even the same guy who caused both spills. It's been rainy and wet and I think this guy wasn't that experienced at balancing. So twice this week, I been found myself on the ground.
Covered in mud.
Joints stinging from when I reached out to break my fall with my hands.
Muscle injury, leg swelled.
Not very, just slightly but my body feels so battered.
Normally I'd have tried to play through the pain, get some work done, ignore it. But the new and improved me had a hot bath, took painkillers and aspirin, put my foot up on a pillow and went to bed.
Why did I put take an aspirin and my foot up on a pillow you ask?
Blood clots.
I heard that injuries such as the one I got can cause a blood clot to form and ultimately lead to DVT. Not on my watch though. I ain't dying till I've seen at least one grandchild born and raised. *knocks on wood*

Speaking of triumph over adversity, a story just came out about my number one fave. It details the fact that the record label she was on, Def Jam, considered dropping her together with Taira Marie (sp?) because their numbers weren't doing as well as the studio would have liked. So what Rihanna's manager, named Jordan did was use her money to finance music videos. For three albums basically, Rihanna was financing her own music while her finance managers mismanaged her. She almost went broke. Received minimal support from her label and here she is, the biggest superstar on earth.
People love to say that Rihanna is a record-label-produced star. That she's a puppet whose strings are pulled by others. I'm glad this story has come out to show that that clearly isn't the case. She worked hard, used her own resources, went on tour continuously for practically two years, sued her finance managers and got her money back, did seven albums in seven years while working NON STOP and doing Mac collaborations and River Island Collaborations and Puma and Moschino and finally Fenty Beauty...she did it all.
Through controversy and hateration in the dancerie and plowing every last cent into herself...here she is. Self-belief man.
You can't succeed without it.

I need to go finish at least one of my WIPs. I am not living my full potential y'all.
Are you?
Speaking of full potential, has anyone seen the Janelle Monae video for Pynk? That video made me feel things. Like what have I been doing with my life all this time that I haven't thought to celebrate my vagina in such a way? Clearly, I'm not living my best life. Something has to change.
I'm serious. I can't die before this happens. There has to be a way. Of course it does not escape my notice that Janelle is bi. Us straight girls be singing about 'Boy Bye' and 'You Needed Me' while the queers have Pynk. Something ain't right people. We need to reevaluate. @ me.

Okay so before I go into NSFW zone, I'm gonna stop. Have you visited my author page yet? It's author page April, so do so. You get a lot more choices there than if you just click on Amazon.