More painting procesess and other works at:
So, yeah! With all the unseen words
floating around in clouds
and free spaces
and unwired four walls
real paper, pages, ink has become somewhat obsolete
and needed a Native Queen to bring them back to life.
And HERstory was made! ‘cause isn’t this how it’s always made?
Look around. It’s happening!
Femme: Literati Mixtape is an anthology due Summer 2019 conceived by Genre: Urban Arts. Anthologies are everything! Literally…everything! Creative Director, Nakeysha Roberts Washington (@nakeysha) together with authors/editors Rico Lowe (@panafrico) and Shimah Easter (@gonbeallwrite_mah) are preparing to present this opportunity to women creatives who are of the African diaspora together with their brown sistren, contemporary, informed and passionate. The anthology will feature a mix of written word, art, photography and fashion. If you are interested in this opportunity or know an artist who would be, please DM/contact any of the editors above or visit the ‘Opportunities’ tab at genreurbanarts.com. We are HERstory in the making!
Here’s the fatbooty on what we are looking for…
- Fiction or Creative Nonfiction
- 500 words or less
- 2-4 poems with 50 lines or less
- 500 words or less
1-3 images (file size no greater than 64MB)
5-7 images (file size no greater than 64MB)
- Bloggers, models and designers with impeccable style who want to call attention to his or her work. You are welcome to compose a write up on yourself; however, Genre editors would be happy to interview you and compose one for you.
- 5-7 Images (file size no greater than 64MB)
- 200-400 words
More about my work and process at
…And loving every piece is created in the process
Terror, an act of nature, yet brought on by our hands.
Terror from the sunken depths
a merciful journey, no test
bounded to rush and drown our mind
we resist and crawl, even climb
to rid ourselves of the fears we hold deep
like plunging bodies the sea keeps
hoping for a resolution Continue reading Terror Wavers: an Insight on Human Nature
The silence coming from your voice
Gets me through the day.
It helps me to see
The impossible situation we are in.
Too much in love to quit.
Too much in disdain to care.
I want to taste
His honeyed brown skin
Get lost in the strong musk smell
Feel the gentle power that permeates
I want to envelop myself
In his masculinity,
And his passion.
I want us to meet each other’s desires
In a primitive and heated way.
Losing all self-control
In our luscious lovemaking.
I want to hear him whisper sensual, desirable things
He wants to do to my body.
I want to taste his yearning in my mouth
Savoring every succulent flavor.
I want him.
Soft to the touch,
Salty to taste.
Enchanting to see,
The melanin is perfection. Continue reading my skin.
Emptiness echoes throughout the room.
Silence slides up the wall.
Pain swirls in the air.
Anguish blows from the window.
It surrounds the young girl.
Choking the life out of her.
He bathes in misery
He eats it for breakfast,
And washes it down with insecurity.
There is a pain behind her smile
That causes her to disconnect.
Her insecurities are hidden behind her laughter
Which causes her hurt.
There is a brokenness behind her joy
That causes her be uncertain.
Her murky thoughts are veiled behind her dancing
Which causes her roughness.
Tales from The Inferno Part 2: Hidden Treasure
The dragon guarded various treasures old and new. She had a particular fancy for photography and abstract paintings. A personal taste I enjoyed and disliked depending on the artist. She kept all her treasure under surveillance. Cameras and alarms throughout the gallery, an honest precaution, despite having no clue how to use any of them. Perhaps she was afraid someone would steal her treasures from right under her flared nose.
One day I came and found the door locked despite it was time to open. I knocked and texted a coworker and eventually led inside. My coworker hastily informed me that the dragon was having a little tiff with an artist. I never met him before, but I had done a little investigation of my own. He had originated from the far south and worked at the gallery years earlier, trying to get his citizenship and bring his family over. The dragon had helped him, his wife and two children. Plenty of personal photos depicted them in her steaming pool and fortress, relaxing and having fun. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad—hardly.
So the drama between them, none knew about, although they only told me he wanted his artwork back. The dragon ordered to have his work hidden in the basement, locked away so he could never find it. He called, badgering me on the phone, then banging on the front door, but we were not allowed to let him inside.
“For our safety,” she had stated as she exhaled a sordid billow.
It was his paintings why not give them back?
“We have procedure: we can’t just give them to him,” she said with a piercing grin. “And we don’t even have them.”
I saw the paintings downstairs. I know this isn’t right, but I can’t do anything.about them. I’m no knight or hero, so I sat my desk and got back to work.
Check out my Twitter.
No one knows the exact origins of the elders. They preached that they were nature formed as man. “For as long as the Stars have been in the heavens and the waters in the seas, we have been. Just like nature, we will always be.” Continue reading 🌸 HIRAETH pt.2 🌸
There are many things which go unnoticed and unmentioned around the world. One of these things is the rape culture in India. Recently, young girls, 8 and 9 years of age were raped. It is incredibly heartbreaking news. Below is a link to a petition against child rape. Please sign it. Please, let’s save humanity.
Morning Chat: Season 02!
Whilst going through different changes in life and within herself, Rochelle was having some time, to put out other types of videos, such as reviews on her own previous work and a short film entitled: Tomboy.
She is now back with the second season of her motivational series entitled: Morning Chat.
In this episode, she gives four tips on how to keep improving, that can be used for any chosen creative path, but videography is the main focus.
I want to let you go,
But I keep holding on.
Begging. Continue reading Let Go