Category Archives: Black Lives Matter
Happy 38th Solar Ascension David
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You knew your flame would burn fast that’s why you kept me on my toes and so close to your heart. Happy 38th solar ascension to you David. Trust you’re learning more than everything and receiving all my love out their in the cosmos!
#afrikanface #alter #ancestors #birthdaycake #brotherlove #girlrillavintage #imsunflowerssista #leoseason #mendepeople #mybrotherskeeper #restinlove #solarsoon #sunflower #westafrican #westphilly #723
Ode to Darfur: I move for Sudan
Today I celebrate my brothers legacy. He reminded me before he ascended that I should leave my legacy of Grace before I go. Thank you little bro for that burning reminder.
I digress…
Met a beautiful group of Sudanese Afrikan refugees today. They shared stories of the home they left behind, happy times, culture, language now plagued with oppression, genocide, violence. I move for Darfur. I resist for Darfur. Sending healing through dance to uplift in spirit and body. For ancestors songs!
In love and respect,
Gracie
#afrikanface #bethepower #blacklivesmatter #blackhistoryisworldhistory #darfur #girlrillavintage #IAmSudanTheRevolution #resist #sudan #sudanesecrisis #sudanuprising #theeamazinggrace
Happy solar soon: My sunflower-David Berry
To the person I love most in the universe. My brave side. Leo with the biggest Lion heart. Cheers to words, memories and a failed chocolate cake just for you! You would be reaching 38 young blood. 10 yrs. Damn! How time feels. Rest on little brother…
❤️
#afrikanface #alter #ancestors #birthdaycake #brotherlove #girlrillavintage #imsunflowerssista #leoseason #mendepeople #mybrotherskeeper #restinlove #solarsoon #sunflower #westafrican #westphilly #723
Still I Can Smell the Cesspool
Ancestors, we are winning despite how things may appear or feel. That our disappointments must be the source of our inspiration. That our lives are not defined by the problems we face.
Still I can smell the cesspool. All this really stinks. Thick air. Children in cages. Women groomed as little girls to never tell. Holding her brothers box of ashes with bare hands. White folk moving into the only hoods our black skin ever touched.
No time. No space for us to grasp or grip or grieve, yet we breathe, we hold you in high regard. Always. We know your truth leads our way. Rest in love and light to all those that have surrendered their breath. Thank you for this bit of peace you left behind.
—TheeAmazingGrace
#afrikanface #ancestorsspeak #ancestorssongs #girlrillavintage #mendewoman #mercuryretrograde #moondaymeditation #peace #pms #roothealer #selfiecorner #sierraleone #tbm #theeamazinggrace #westafrican #worldview
Sappy Tree Root
Take a breath. Life is beautiful. The weeds, flowers, sunshine, our perfect hearts. The sensation of skin touching. Fresh and supple and together. Deep. Slow sex in the morning. Footsies. These are just moments. And in-betweens. And I just want to never stop loving like my life depends on because well my life does depend on it.
—TheeAmazingGrace
#afrikanface #afrikanheritage #ancestors #blackjoy #blacklove #blackisbeautiful #changeisbeautiful #footsies #girlrillavintage #glow #ilovefeet #isaidthat #mende #nature #redsun #roothealer #sappytreeroot #sierraleone #sunshine #smiles #solopeace #soul #theeamazinggrace #tag #westafrican #westphilly
Rest in power Stanlee Allyn Holbrook
Stanlee’s death affects me deeply because so many black women and mothers aren’t given any love, support or breaks in this cruel world. We are left to our own everything. I think of my mother who had died an emotional death that she never recovered from long before she died physically.
My heart is broken today. A young mother of three completed suicide in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania two days ago. We all have a painful tune we carry. No one is exempt from a pain like this, the thought, a memory.
I took a mental health first aid course earlier this year. Most of the people in the class including myself used the term ‘committed suicide’ when recalling stories. However, as the instructor described that using the verb ‘commit’ when followed by an act is generally reserved for actions that many people may view as sinful or immoral. Someone commits burglary or murder or rape or perjury or adultery or crime or something else bad. Suicide is sad, for those left behind yes, but the person who completes suicide is not committing a crime or sin. Rather the act of suicide almost always is the product of mental illness, intolerable stress, or trauma.
Though taboo we need more love in this world. More love. ❤️
#afrikanface #blacklivesmatter #blackmothersmatter #mentalhealthisreal #noshameinmentalillness #ripstanleeallynholbrook #weneedmorelove
Calm is a whole new vibe when you ‘buy black’
Calm is a whole vibe when you #buyblack. 😍
As a black Afrikan entrepreneur myself 🙏🏾 @odundefestival for the abundance and having us all in one space! We need more. 🖤
Black Afrikans. We are the miracle! @odundefestival always fruitful and reminiscent of home.
Shout out @thecarterbrand_ & @dohanyc for some of the dopest, quality black T-shirts I purchased in a minute! And the customer service is something to write home about. 🙌🏾
And to the beautiful energy the river walk is. Spiritual white for ancestors. Intentions. Manifestation of love. All that love in one space. Shared.
—TheeAmazingGrace
#afrikanface #ancestors #ancestortones #blacklove #blackjoy #blackeconomics #blackownedbusiness #blackwealthmatters #buyblackowned #calmingcorner #community #culture #culturevibes #girlrillavintage #happynewyear #healblack #mende #myson #odundefestival #odende2019 #orishas #oshun #philadelphia #offering #riverwalk #roothealer #sierraleone #theeamazinggrace #three #tree #westafrican #yoruba
I’m Sunflowers Sista By TheeAmazingGrace
Imagine pullin’ into an empty parking space
and totalin’ your car
Well das Me…
Wrecked. Totaled.
This elephant, remembers everything in its room.
Feels more like I been beaten. Mercilessly.,
Wit’ wooden bats. By vengeful
spirits from my ancestors past lives.
I’m aging.
So my bones done become more rigid.
I fracture more easily.
Bruise more easily.
Tears well up.
I cry out more easily.
Smells. Sounds. Buck toothed smiles. Flamboyant death drops.
All ignite my senses.
And my soul becomes clean when I cry.
‘Cause crying is one of my healing rituals.
Yet, ain’t no healing this shit.
I’m exactly where my brother left me.
On that uncommonly, cold, November 26th, dark street.
Had just spent all day working,
only to get home to cook food for a tortured friend.
Dished out larger slices of homemade sweet potato pie.
How bitter the taste.
I remember, as we sipped apple cider along side it.
How?
How bout the scene was loose with change.
And
Fresh newspapers strewn about the floor.
I can still smell the dead trees,
the moment they told me my baby brother had died.
Ran ALL out of myself.
Slid cross the floor on coupon adds.
Jumpin’ out of my skin wasn’t far enough
to get away from this.
The silence was so DAMN loud.
Louder than my screams and desperate PLEASE.
PLEASE! DON’T SAY THIS IS TRUE.
And the silence played tricks.
The silence was so heartless.
The silence acted like a fuck boy.
And wailing.
Wailing that hard only made my nose bleed.
Snot, mixed with blood m, and tears, froze to my face.
The mood was below 20 degrees.
No comfort. No crab legs. No fried wings.
No whisky. No heating pads. No yams. No deep dick.
No coochie grinds. No meditation. No cunnilingus.
No flailing arm dances. No deep talks. No nothing.
Not even self-soothing. No selfies. No usies.
No god. No nothing could prepare me for losing my brother.
My baby brother.
Second born.
My sunflower.
Smile as big as a sunflower.
And he loved to eat the seeds.
And I love him beyond forever.
Sunflowers senseless loss of life.
Bullet to head while he sat in the
comfort of his own bed.
And I remember the blood on his pillow.
And how I clinched it.
And tho’ he’s right here.
And won’t leave from right here.
I still feel pain right here.
Hard to breathe sometimes.
Replaying his last words
as he looked to the edge of his bed, “Mama.” “Mama?“
Thank you mama, for waiting.
And tastin’ his ashes pushed me to the edge of space.
Made us feel close again.
And I don’t wish for time y’all.
I wish for the world to love as hard as we loved
with no healthy examples of how to love.
How our love language STRETCHED.
IS etched into my skin, over deep contusions LEFT BEHIND.
Embedded beneath my bare breast bone, on the left side.
How I cant tell our scars apart or our sleepless melodies.
However, the wind grows me just a little, each day.
My big sunshine face, travels in the wind.
My Phoenix arose from the dust.
My baby brother flows in my DNA.
He is in the water too.
Mama Oshun. Bless baby brother with your rivers honey.
Mama Yemayah. Please nestle us both, in the safety of your oceans back bone.
Thank you for your sanctity.
For being a home.
Always.
—TheeAmazingGrace
I’m Sunflowers Sista shareable audio with music by The Nest Collective’s Walk to Tawaret. Thank you for listening.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1v1Jho0Vm5x3B6sWqUgdJsMUMdEYHs4KL/view?usp=sharing
Bathe Your Soul In Forgiveness
They say anger is an arrogant way of avoiding forgiveness. Bathe your soul in forgiveness. Bees and things and flowers. Living my best life in the sunshine. #afrika #girlrillavintage #girlrillalove #mylifeinthesunshine #royayers #selflove #sunlove #sunshine #sunkist #theeamazinggrace #wcw
❤
GirlrillaVintage the Blog 